My parents had to sign some sort of guardianship agreement and helped me pack a bag. Several goodbyes later, I was sitting in a van with the two teens from before. Hillary grabbed a small bag from under her seat, and pulled out a small pill bottle, tossing it to Andrew. "Here." He poured a couple of pills out onto his hand before eagerly taking them dry. I didn't know what they were for, but I didn't ask.

I swallowed my apprehension, and asked "How many people are in the program? Are they all teens?"

Andrew looked up before nodding. "The younger you are, the easier it is to... adapt." He was watching his words, keeping something back. "There's five more besides us. You might not end up meeting them all though."

My concern was increasing with every word. What did he mean, adapt? Wasn't this just cool prosthetic tech, or mechanical suits? Why only five, and why would it matter if they were all teenagers? Teenagers grew and changed. Adults didn't change in size, so wouldn't they be a better option to design devices around? I stopped my thoughts in their tracks. I'm getting my legs... no matter how sketchy of a company this may be, I had that to look forward to. Besides, these two looked alright, didn't they? They would probably tell me if something was wrong or if they wanted to leave. "So Hillary," I started. The girl took a minute to realize I was talking to her, her mind in a different place entirely. Her look was akin to a glare, as though demanding I say what I was going to say and get it over with. "Your arm. Can you feel it? The prosthetic, I mean."

"Sort of." I waited for her to elaborate, but she never did.

The van had a window out the front, where we could look into the drivers' area, and one in the back. I could see someone in military gear in the passengers' seat, and a black van was following us. This must be some 'secret project'. I didn't put it into words, but deep inside me, I knew I had gotten myself into something far more dangerous than I had anticipated. Maybe it was illegal, and maybe I had made a mistake. But despite these thoughts, my resolve was too great. What I wanted to achieve required this level of risk; no matter what happened, I would cooperate and not stray from the end goal. Maybe, if I had known the situation more thoroughly, my resolve would have faltered. I might have pounded on the doors, begging to be let out of the van and return home, fear running through my blood; perhaps ignorance was a blessing.

We drove through Nevada for a couple of hours before reaching what looked like a military base. Except, all the soldiers I could see through the back window were dressed like they were in some kind of swat team. "Where are we?"

Andrew answered, "This is where we'll be staying." The van pulled into a hangar, and before long, I could feel the vehicle shift into park. Hillary and Andrew were on their feet before the doors even opened, whereas I had to wait where I was seated for assistance. The teens climbed out into a waiting group of armed soldiers. The boy turned back with a mock salute. "See you later Shilo." The two walked through the group, and out of sight.

I waited, and a couple of the soldiers entered the van to pull me out. They carried me out and unexpectedly laid me on a stretcher. I was expecting a wheelchair... but this was a military base. Did they just have stretchers? Given the nature of this 'program', it seemed unlikely. The stretcher started to move. "Hey, what's going on?"

The presenter from before wasn't here, and the soldiers ignored me. "Can someone explain what's happening please?! Where are we going?" They continued to ignore me... but then I felt a prick in my arm. My eyes went to the syringe being removed by someone wearing the same dark green most people here seemed to wear, and every inch of him was covered. He wasn't dressed as a soldier, but as some kind of freaky surgeon, with orange goggles... I tried to speak, but no words came. My vision blurred, then turned to black.


I jolted awake.

The room was more of a cubicle than anything else, with white curtains for walls. I was on a low cot with a heavy grey blanket in my lap. I sat up far too quickly, and the room spun in and out of shadows for a few moments, my head in my hands as I waited for equilibrium to settle. I found myself shirtless, with only underwear on under the blanket. Even though no one was in the room with me, I was grateful that I had something to cover up with... but my legs felt... numb.

I slowly lifted the blanket. On several places along my legs, there were 'sensors' similar to the ones the boy - Andrew - had along his back. But these certainly didn't feel like just sensors. I felt like I had been impaled with pieces of metal. I slowly became aware of the aching, reverberating pain, but it was weak, masked by the numbness. I leaned over to touch one of them, but that was a mistake. I felt a sharp jab throughout my back. I reached back, and the lower half of my back was partially covered with a bandage. I wasn't sure what was under it, but just reaching back for it made it ache. Luckily, it was in the curve of my back where I could still lay down without putting too much pressure directly on it, and that's what I did for a couple of minutes.

I was missing my mother and her comforting words. Every time I would go in for a test or come out of sedation, she was there to hold my hand. I wanted to talk to her, but something told me this would probably not be allowed. That's okay. I'll find a way to talk to her when all of this is over.

"Yo, new kid!" I looked over to see a girl - she looked around 13, maybe - peaking her head in through a small gap in the curtains. She was wearing some sort of nightgown.

I instantly dropped the blanket back over my legs. "Yeah? Who are you?"

"Kasey. What's your name?"

"...Shilo." She giggled. "What?"

"That sounds like a dog name."

I glared at her. "It's not. It's Hebrew or something like that."

Kasey glanced over her shoulder, then back at me, entering the room a bit more. "Did you get here yesterday? I know they sent Hillary out, and she normally doesn't come back alone."

"There was Hillary, and a boy named Andrew," I answered. Yesterday? Had I really been out that long? "I got shot up with something that put me to sleep when I got here. I just woke up."

"What did they do to you?" The girl gave me a long look. Her hair was cut short like it had been buzzed at one point, and there were small bags under her eyes. "When I got here, they checked my brother and me over, and that was it. But sometimes they take new people away for a while."

I thought it over, but there was no reason to lie to her. "They put weird pieces of metal in my legs. It only hurts a little." I lifted the blanket just a bit to show her. "My legs don't work very well, and they promised me they'd help me walk again. Did they promise you anything?"

"I don't know. My brother and I were out of state on a field trip when something - happened to our parents. Instead of taking us to foster care, someone drove us here two weeks ago. I bet this entire place is illegal but it's not like I can do anything about it. They took our cell phone."

I nodded. I never had a cell phone, because I didn't need one. But even if I had one, it would be with the rest of my things, and I had no idea where my suitcase was put. "Did the surgeon guy hurt you too?"

She shook her head. "I haven't met him yet. Normally people are sedated when they go to him. I haven't been. My brother has, but he doesn't remember anything."

We heard a whistle blow, and Kasey jerked her neck toward it. "Come on, we have to line up. This happens at least once a day. We just stand there for a bit."

"Wait! I can't stand."

"Oh. Well, I gotta go though." She dashed from the room. I could hear movement behind one of the curtains, like people shuffling into place. Then, a few moments later, there was the thump of boots as someone approached.

"Silas. No casualties to report."

"Good. How long until we can commence stage two of project Halfblood?"

"We're nearly there, sir. We need four more days to ensure stage one is completed properly."

Someone flipped through a clipboard. "I see only seven subjects, doctor. Was the retrieval unsuccessful?"

"No sir." the voice was almost nervous. "The eighth is the partial paralysis case. He's unable to stand yet. Do you need to see our progress?"

"That won't be necessary." I could hear him walk the line, and I eyed underneath the curtain to see a large pair of boots stop in front of a slightly smaller pair. "Andrew, I'm taking you off of retrieval. Hillary, you will be working with Agent Carters alone tomorrow."

"But sir -" Andrew protested. There were several moments of deadly silence. I could feel the tension build in the hangar even though I couldn't see the cause. I could hear myself breathe, and was almost scared that the man could hear me from behind the curtains.

Finally, I could hear 'Silas' turn and finish walking the line. "Dismissed." No one moved until the bootsteps had retreated to elsewhere in the hangar. A few moments after that, one of the curtains was yanked open. I expected to see Kasey, but it was Hillary instead. She was wearing boots, cargo pants, and the same green tank top as yesterday, blond hair once more pinned into a neat bun.

Suddenly I was even more subconscious about being mostly naked under this blanket. "H-Hi Hillary..." I nervously shifted the blanket into the least-revealing position possible.

"Seems someone wasn't smart enough to get you set up," she said as she dropped a small crate at the side of the cot. She pulled out a green shirt with a pair of loose gray shorts, and threw them right at my face, which I thankfully caught. She showed me a bottle of pills before tossing it back into the crate. "It's painkillers. Don't take more than a couple at a time, if you need them. One of the kids ran out of theirs on the third day and they haven't gotten another one."

I looked into the crate, and it was pretty bare, with none of the things I had packed with me. "Can I get a pair of cargo pants too?"

"What? No." I gave her a questioning glance, and she sighed as though annoyed before answering. "They need to access your legs idiot. You need to wear something they can cut off easily. It's lucky you got anything at all. It's probably more for their benefit than yours, so they don't have to see anything they don't want to see while they're checking up on you." She balanced her prosthetic arm on her hip. "You have any other urgent questions before I leave?"

"Lots. What do I have to do to get food in this place?"