"Now…" the gym teacher spoke, slurred voice resonating around the gym. "We won't have any more of this."

Hayley grimaced, glaring frustration at the man, as she struggled to free her arms from the teacher holding them behind her back. All around her, the other band members had been similarly constrained, with the audience watching in dazed confusion.

"You jerks," Jess howled, her eyes dark balls of fury. "We're not harming anyone! We're just giving them a concert! It's one of the only ways students can actually enjoy themselves at these stupid schools!"

The audience started to rumble in agreement.

The gym teacher glared out at them, and they were silent. You didn't mess with the man who controlled how many laps you ran. "That's enough," he proclaimed, turning around to chastise the students. "This school will have order. Now, all of you get back to your dormitories, right now!"

At the back of the gym, Angel turned away. Her work was finished. With silent, gliding steps, she began to traverse the path back to her room.

"Handsonic," the caption read. When Fred clicked on it, a pixilated 3-d image was generated, of a thin, stout blade materializing on the hand of a computer-generated figure. At the side of the screen, an uncomprehend able stream of programming followed the materialization of the weapon.

"Defense applications, Guardskill:" Elly read incredulously. "Handsonic, Delay, Distortion, Return…"
"Wait a second," Richie spluttered, scratching the dome of his head heavily. "Angel's powers are controlled by a computer?"

"Quiet," Fred snapped tersely. She moved through the program, under each Guardskill caption was a short description of the application, and off to the side, an endless stream of programming.

"Interesting…." Leo murmured, leaning in. "it appears that-"

He was interrupted by a buzz of static. "Fred!" Bridget's voice called out. They all tensed, she spoke with urgency utterly alien to Bridget. "Fred," she repeated, "the distraction team has been taken out, they're all down. Angel's disappeared. She could be there any moment!"

"We're out of time," Hannah muttered, pulling the curtains back as she gazed out the window. The spotlights at the gym had gone still.

"Shouldn't we leave, like, right now?" Luke asked nervously.

"But, we just started looking at this!" Elly protested. "We have to find out what it all means, where Angel's method of divine communication, the source of her power is held! If it's this program, then we need to understand it."

Despite his feeling concerning their presence in someone else's bedroom, Mike couldn't help but agree with Elliot. As he examined the curious program, his curiousity only mounted.

While the others bickered, Fred had continued to search systematically, navigating from menu to menu. But you could tell she was only becoming more frustrated. The program was loquacious, few words were under three syllables, arcane symbols and mathematical algorithms were littered everywhere. None of them could make hide or hair of it, beside the fact that it was somehow connected to Angel's abilities.

As every moment passed, the sense of grim anticipation pervading them mounted, they could feel her drawing near, step by step. Finally, Winnie stood up.

"All right, let's go," she muttered.

"Should we take the computer?"

"No. Now we know a little more about how she operates. We don't want her to change things around. Let's go."

Bumbling and bumping, the Battlefront skittered back into the dormitory hallway, and back down the stairs. They were almost at the door, escape in sight, when Winnie spoke.

"Stop," she whispered, and her army froze at the command, concealed in the shadows of the hallway.

There, standing in the open doorway, was Angel. She stood perfectly still, listening.

"Shoot," Harry cursed, whispering. "What now?"

"F*** you!" You moronic slime balls, just f*** you!" Jess screamed.

Hayley watched her friend, worried. She knew Jess had anger issues. And she knew being forcibly constrained by a someone stronger than her, an adult teacher, would be putting her through a lot. Hayley looked around, desperately thinking of what to do. Something felt wrong, she felt like something had to be done. The audience shifted, watching the scene playing out with a horror. And there, peeking out with that silly pink hair was the girl, the member of the distraction team. Julie, Hayley suddenly remembered. Julie was gaping up at Girls Dead Monster, anguished.

"…simply disgraceful," the P.E teacher was going on, kicking the equipment out from under him. "This is a school, not a circus. Here, what about this…" he picked up the old acoustic, and perused it contemptuously. "Where'd you even find this piece of junk, it looks ancient… I'm sure no one would mind if we threw it-"

"No!" Hayley screamed a desperate need to protect filling her. Her cry startled her captor, and his grip loosened. She slipped out of the teachers arms, and was able snag the guitar from the startled adult's hands, before backing away.

Jess took advantage of the opportunity. With a snarl, she snapped down on her constrainer's heel. Before they could react, she was off, racing across the stage to the wings. One of the other teachers started to follow, panting as his long legs began to shift. But as he reached out to grab Jess back, he suddenly came tumbling to the ground with a grunt.

Before anyone could react to Bridget tripping the teacher, she had nodded meaningfully at Hayley, and disappeared back into the crowd of students.

The P.E. teacher shook his head with a grunt. "Leave her," he said, turning back to Hayley. "Give it up, Miss. All of these instruments are going to be confiscated. Let go of it."

Back stage, Jess hadn't fled the gym. She sprinted through doors, up stairs, and into the sound room. Jess glanced down through the glass window at the stage below. Her friend stood with her back against the wall, her guitar the only thing between her and the staff.

Go for it, Hayley, she thought, turning the speakers back on, then linking the sound to every speaker throughout the school.

"Come on, give it here," the teacher growled at Hayley again. He was tired, and it was far too late for him to have to deal with this kind of thing. He made a grab for the instrument.

In reaction, Hayley's arm flew up, and he flinched, anticipating a blow. But all that came was a sweeping chord. The teachers relaxed, confusion giving them pause. Behind them everyone else watched, astonished, and listened as Hayley started to strum, the earthy acoustic sounds floating through the gym.

"A new song…" Julie breathed.

"Grey skies, Angry morning. Blood on the wall, I'm still learning

I shout, you cry, it still hurts, and I'll still try

Hatred floods in, a dirty world eats

Our innocence, our pride, our feats

But oh, I'll still sing, sing my song

For you. And for me."

The Battlefront paused in their worrying, confused. Angel had turned away from perusing the room, and was looking outside, at the cool night sky. As they did, they heard a lilt of words, humming through the air on invisible wings.

"You're crying for sure, you're lonely for sure

For living as human, there is no cure."

Mike in took some breath as he recognized the notes drifting from the distant speakers. It was Hayley's rejected ballad, My Song.

And, with a deliberate movement, Angel left the door frame, and began to wander away, towards the music.

Hayley continued through her song, holding the world at bay around her. As she went in further, and further, the people around her became less clear, until she was alone, just her and the instrument wrapped around her arms.

I'm so happy, she thought suddenly. This world gave me a chance to do it all again. And, even before I died… I guess I'm happy about before, as well. It was tough, yeah, but… Sad Machine, those guys, they reached me. Thanks to them, I found something I loved. Thanks to them, I found a way to be happy regardless of what my home had become.

"There's a door, waiting at the end.

I'm waiting for you, here is my hand…"

She smiled to herself, eyes shut. For Sad Machine, their music had become more than a source of pleasure. It had reached her, had touched her life. They had saved her.

Hey, she realized suddenly, her eyes blinking open suddenly. The thought of Julie appeared in her head. That's what I want to do. Not just create a feeling. I want to reach someone, to touch them.

"This world is ugly, burns in its hatred.

But because it's where I've met you

It is beautiful, a miracle.

Thank you."

Everything Hayley could see was disappearing, blurring into beautiful white. That's what I want, she thought again, swallowing.

I want to use my music, to save someone.

Just like I was saved.

Ah…

With a heavy clunk, the guitar fell to the floor, it's rattling echoing around the silent room as it settled onto the ground. Everyone stared, utterly silent, at the spot where Hayley had stood. She was gone.

Angel blinked, and then turned away from the door. She… she hadn't been expecting that, there had been more to that punk rocker than she had realized. Tonight, there was nothing more for her to do.

A/N End of Mission Three. Thanks for participating, everyone who's come this far. If anyone has an any thoughts on the story, feel free to let me know. I can always use guidance.