He might have been being all civil and stuff, but that was no reason to stop noticing how much of a control freak Mr. Agito Makashima was. "So, where's this safehouse of yours located, anyway?"

"For obvious reasons, that's classified information, Crouger," he said, still sounding smug.

It figures. Settling back into his place against the wall, Ryan let the conversation wash over him. It was pretty damned obvious that they were going to be moving out of this place, not that he'd miss it or anything. Still, the people who'd been living here were the ones who'd really be affected by that choice, so it was really best to let them make it themselves, no matter how much he was tempted to vote against moving just to spite Mr. High-and-Mighty.

For one thing, he'd be outvoted, so it wouldn't do any good. For another, he was trying to be civil. Voting against a good, necessary plan just because you had some personal problems with the guy proposing said plan wasn't civil in the least.

And he was going to be civil, even if it killed him.

Once Kenji had been settled back into their bed for his usual post-meal nap, Imakarum headed back down into Cloud Tower's lower levels. There had been some new scientists brought in from Brant Medical Technologies, and it was his duty as a loyal Zoalord to interview them, to weed out those who would not devote themselves to Chronos. It would not do to have any others like Drs. Halverson, Sanderson, Odagiri, Henderson, or Yamamura, after all.

In spite of what three of those humans had done for him personally – giving him the opportunity to bring Kenji into the ranks of Chronos at a very high position – no other traitors could be allowed to work their malice within Lord Alkanphel's glorious organization. These humans would have to pass his tests before they could be allowed to live. It was, at first, something Lord Hamilcal had asked him to do once. The idea itself was sound, and thus he had continued to perform the task even after Lord Hamilcal had said he could stop. If at any time Lord Hamilcal commanded him to stop, the situation would be different, but for the moment Lord Hamilcal seemed to appreciate his efforts at weeding out those humans who would not give their utmost efforts for Chronos.

As he arrived back in Sub-level 1, the first of Cloud Tower's research and development divisions, Imakarum paused on the threshold and surveyed the room. The reaction to his presence was not as dramatic as it had been last time. That was good; little fear meant little chance that anyone here would be involved in the kind of clandestine activities that they would have to be… punished for.

When Imakarum Mirabilis stepped into the room, it was all Walter Chapman could do not to run screaming for the nearest exit. He'd heard the rumors: those scientists who had survived that power-crazed Zoalord's "interrogations" would find ways of getting word of their experiences out to the others who worked for the company. That gave him and the other newbies a better chance of surviving.

Looking back at the Zoalord as he made his way into the laboratory, he almost found himself disbelieving the stories that had been told about what a holy terror Imakarum Mirabilis was. He looked… pretty harmless. At least up until the point where he hoisted some poor bastard up by the neck and hurled him across the room.

Or flung them down one of the incinerator chutes, or ripped their limbs off, or did one of the many other things that let you know just how unhinged this guy honestly was. He'd heard his share of horror stories about Edward Caerleon and his proclivities, which was what had lead him to request a transfer out of the London base so he wouldn't have such a risk of running into that guy, but Imakarum was a different story. People said he didn't have a set territory, meaning he could stalk and/or harass any of them as long as he took care not to step on the toes of the Zoalord whose Section he was actually in. Walter didn't know how he acted around the other Zoalords, but it was obviously good enough to ensure that he was able to keep moving from base to base the way he seemed to enjoy doing.

There wasn't any real question in Walter's mind that Imakarum enjoyed the power he held over the lives and – more importantly – deaths of the scientists who were unfortunate enough to work for Chronos. There were few people in his position who wouldn't, and the way he acted around the people he terrorized made it clear just how much he enjoyed the power he had over them. The man – or rather, Zoalord – was sick; Walter just hoped that he would be able to survive when his time came.

Not knowing exactly when they were all going to be moving out, Ryan opted to expect the cars – or trucks, or whatever they were going to be – to come at any time. This was the one instance when he was glad not to have had any time to pack: nothing from home meant nothing that could get lost on the way to wherever they were going to stay after they left this place. That was good; no matter how much he might miss his comics, his collection of books, or his Sega, not taking the chance of losing them was better than doing so. Still, that left him with nothing much to do while he waited around for the transports to get to the apartment so they could all get their butts out of there.

No one seemed to be too interested in talking, which was understandable given the fact that there didn't seem to be much else to do in this place, but kind of annoying since it didn't give him much to do besides catch up on the sleep that he didn't really need. Tetsuro had claimed the only TV, and Ryan hadn't seen much point in arguing with him since all the shows were in Japanese and he wasn't really capable of understanding that language, especially with the speeds those people seemed to enjoy talking at. Besides, most of what Tetsuro seemed to be interested in were news broadcasts.

Mizuki was cooking, and since his one attempt at that had ended with exploded hotdog all over the kitchen floor, he wasn't going to even go in there. His mom had always claimed that anyone could learn to cook if they were motivated enough, but after the hotdog incident she'd pretty much given up on him. Eating food he didn't mind; he could do it all day provided the stuff was good, but cooking it… not so much.

So now here he was, stuck in apartment with nothing to do, in a country where he could barely speak the language, waiting for some guys in trucks or vans or what-have-you to come and pick him up. Whoever first said that war was "hours of boredom broken by moments of stark terror" definitely had the life of a Guyver down pat. Of course, he was really hoping that the lulls in battle wouldn't all be this boring. That would probably drive him to do something drastic to escape the sheer monotony.

A knock at the door woke him from his apathetic dozing. Shit, what was that word Sho told me again? Aw hell with it. "Come in."

"Hey," said Howard, who had said he was some kind of a Zoanoid. Of course, when he'd first introduced himself, Ryan had been curious about why the guy was still alive if he was really what he'd said he was. He'd never gotten the chance to ask, but now was as good a time as any.

"Hey yourself," he said, grinning. "You're Howard, right?"

"That's right."

"Good; I don't want to go messing up a bunch of people's names. Makes a bad first impression, you know?"

"That's a good policy to have," the man said, chuckling.

"There is one thing I'm kinda curious about, though."

"You're wondering why two Zoanoids like Hayami and I are staying with Sho and the others, or why we're even alive. Am I right?"

"That's about the size of it. So spill, what makes you guys different from any of the other Zoanoids that we had to kill back in Colorado?"

"Well, to explain that, I'm going to have to explain some things about Chronos," he said, taking a deep breath. "Within Chronos, there is a certain subset of Zoanoids called Lost Numbers."