"A White Knight and the Maidens of the Path" by Shadow Master
email: ryley[underscore]breen
(BtVS/A Certain Scientific Railgun/Terminator Universe/AtLA/FF7/Street Fighter/DCAU/Marvel/Others)
[A Rough Cut Diamond Story]
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore it would be appreciated if no one sued me or through some other legal process tried to take me to court over this. I can promise you that I don't have anywhere near enough money to cover the bill your lawyer/s would send you.
Note : This is part of the 'Rough Cut Diamonds' series of stories. I have made this series with the intent of updating them as regularly as possible factoring in RL(Real Life) and work on those other stories already in progress. In order to post new chapters as swiftly as possible I will be putting them online with only my word processor's own spelling and grammar checking function to ensure quality. Expect there to be a few mistakes but this is the cost of posting them ASAP instead of sending them to a beta reader to be polished to perfection.
Note 2 : If you really want to know who to blame for this story idea popping up then look no further than the fan fiction author dogbertcarroll and the latest chapters of his story 'Colors and Capes'. You see the idea of Xander taking into his care a young super villainess and through his efforts guiding her to the grey area of life caught my interest and got my muse considering possibilities. From there I thought of what other fictional characters were of a similar type to Ace from the DCAU and with a little help from Holyknight we managed to come up with a plot. It'll likely require some refinement, some fleshing out, and as long as it doesn't lead to massive rewrites I'm open to suggestions. Remember this is meant to be fun for me, a hobby, and is not supposed to resemble hard work in any way.
PS- This is a warning to all of you that the properties that will be involved in this story will not be 100% the same as the ones you're aware of. They will be more like AUs such as the various Earth realities that exist in the Marvel Universe such as Earth-616 or Earth-1999. In order to keep this from simply being a rehashing of existing stories I worked with Holyknight to distort things somewhat in each universe. It won't be to the point of making each of them unrecognizable but rather to make it so that you the readers won't quite be able to predict where things will go next.
A White Knight and the Maidens of the Path
The Castle Headquarters of the New Slayer Council
Office of the Director of Field Operations
Xander's POV
"I am NOT old enough for this SHIT!" he growled looking at the offensive piles on his desk like he'd been told to write 'Kennedy is so superior to me I am but a lowly bug' until there was no room left to write.
However at the same time he could not blame anyone but himself really for his present circumstances.
He had agreed to it after all.
It'd been a little over a year ago that the Scoobies plus the newly Called Slayers took possession of the Old Council's holdings and began to create what those old men should've been. From the very beginning they wanted an organization that would fully support all the Slayers from providing them with the information they needed to a support team should a serious situation arise. No more would Slayers be treated like expendable assets or forced to win with only minimal resources and assistance.
They started small at first seizing the castle property, cataloguing its inventory and then setting up the strongest defences they could muster. It was important to establish a strong foundation as well as a place where they could safely build the future they wanted. Giles had been fairly certain that with the destruction of the Old Council at the hands of the First Evil various demonic organizations worldwide would seek to take advantage of the end to the old status quo. More than that no demon or warlock that they'd seek to oppose would wait around while they worked to get stronger and would do all they could to strike them down. Even if the demons, vampires and warlocks knew that they couldn't end the Slayer line depriving the young ladies of organized support would make it a lot easier for evil to flourish.
Once they were confident in their new HQ they began to reach out to every member of the Old Council they thought might still be alive AND would agree with how they thought the Slayer Council should be run. Fortunately Giles was able to gain possession of Old Council records that contained the names of members who'd been disciplined by Travers in the past two decades. It'd been the theory that if the Watchers had been disciplined but not outright expelled from the old organization or imprisoned they might just be the same sort of Watcher as Giles. They still screened the files, did their homework on each possible recruit, since it was equally possible that the disciplined Watchers deserved their punishments or perhaps should've been expelled but were allowed to remain because they were 'useful'.
Once they had their HQ, the resources and enough Watchers they could trust they began to seek out every newly Called Slayer across the world. On the surface they did so to take responsibility for changing the lives of so many with Willow's awakening spell and to help the girls adjust as best they could. Unofficially however…they'd known that giving the power of the Slayer to so many could cause things to take a sharp turn for the nasty if they didn't take action to prevent it. Not only was having so many Slayers exist at one time going to provoke reactions from every organization that knew about them but not one part of Willow's spell took the potential's personality or living circumstances into account. All they'd tried to do was Call every potential on the planet both so that they could gain the army they needed to defeat the First Evil but also because they believed that choice needed to be a part of being a Slayer.
Every Slayer deserved the right to choose whether or not they'd take up the sword to fight the supernatural evils of the world. They had the God given right to decide if they wanted anything to do with the supernatural or the New Slayer Council at all.
However with that desire to give those girls the power of choosing came the risk that the newly Called Slayers would choose to use the power they had now for evil goals. With the things they could do it wouldn't be a leap for them to make a fortune as criminals since few non-powered humans could even come close to taking down a Slayer. Throw in modern technology as well as weapons and it was possible to carve out a nice little criminal empire for the Slayer who wanted it. Then of course there were those who'd entertain ideas of becoming sports superstars unfairly using the edge they had over the rest of the athletes to become rich and famous.
At the absolute worst a newly Called Slayer could draw up a list of people who'd wronged them or just plain pissed them off and begin exacting revenge in whatever way appealed to them. Eventually once it became clear that consequences were no longer some unavoidable outcome like it'd been when they were normal and he shuddered to think of the effect it'd have on their minds.
The job wasn't quite done, not by far according to Willow, but they'd made good progress in identifying each Called Slayer and getting an understanding of their plans for the future. For each one they'd made plans to train them if they joined, teach them control if they didn't and if they intended to adopt Faith's old want, take and have approach they were taken down.
What did all of this have to do with his present circumstances?
In the beginning he'd continued on as he had as just a Scooby rather than a founding member of the New Slayer Council helping wherever he could whether it was on the battlefield or off it. At the time they'd been pressed for manpower and so they'd needed every person they could rely upon to fight whenever some magical or demonic threat popped up. Naturally due to his missing an eye and lacking depth perception he'd been kept to the rear in a support position with at least one Slayer close at hand to bail him out if he got in over his head. Fortunately shooting a bolt from a crossbow didn't require a great deal of depth perception as long as your aim was good and the weapon had enough power to make the distance. The few times things had been forced into close quarters a lack of depth perception didn't matter since as long as the target was within arm's reach.
He'd been lucky for a while there but just as things usually went it didn't last and eventually a close call had landed him in the hospital for a few weeks.
It'd been at that point that the old Scoobies reassembled to try and convince him that this was a sign to retire from the battlefield. They'd done their best to convince him that he wasn't being asked to leave the Council but rather to accept a position that would keep him far from danger. Naturally some of his old defiance about being shoved into the fray adjacent area flared up but it'd been Giles who'd hammered home the truth. He'd pointed out various situations where a lack of depth perception would likely prove to be a real problem on the battlefield and how poorly such battles could turn out in the presence of such a weakness. The man had gone on to point out the numerous times that the world could very well have ended if even one of them had not been functioning at maximum capacity.
With every example that G-man laid down his defiance died down as even he was forced to accept that even if the spirit was willing he unquestionably represented a liability on the battlefield. It wouldn't take long for their enemies to figure this out and come up with tactics to exploit the liability for all that it was worth. Considering that the bad guys only had to win once while the Council had to win every single time it would be unbelievably selfish of him to insist on remaining on the front lines. He'd put the lives of every person he cared about in danger.
Thus he'd accepted retirement and been officially appointed the position of Director of Field Operations.
What this basically meant was that he'd become the Council's version of Nick Fury leading Slayers in the field from his C&C room. He'd take the information that came in from various sources and then based on them make command decisions about how to ensure they won. Giles had managed to call in a friend from the SAS to quiz him on commanding field operations and then instruct him in the areas he was lacking in. Coupled with weekly chess marathons he had with Giles to get him used to moving pieces around strategically and he was developing into someone worthy of his job.
With every mission where his development shone through he had felt a measure of satisfaction and it'd been enough to convince him that he'd made the right decision.
At least for a time it had.
However it wasn't until the beginning of last month that he realized that his moments to shine in the spotlight would be limited. Most Slayers at their assigned locations around the world could do their jobs without the need of someone from the main HQ controlling everything. Even if they did come up against something that they couldn't handle alone standard procedure was to request assistance from the nearest Council branch. According to the new rules they'd written up the only time he'd need to get involved was to command a situation within the castle's territory or if the threat had repercussions for three or more countries. That meant that aside from the yearly apocalypses and perhaps one other instance he would not be needed in the C&C but rather in his office.
Aside from the more apparent job of commanding field operations it was also part of his job to handle the logistics for the same thing. That meant he had to deal with two things that he was seriously beginning to hate with every fiber of his being: paperwork and meeting with representatives from every country where the Council would need to be able to operate. With the destruction of the Old Council many of the pacts and agreements that'd existed with the various countries were rendered null and void. However with it being an absolute necessity for them to be able to go wherever they needed to in order to keep the world spinning they'd needed to meet with representatives to hash out a new deal. Officially that was left in the hands of their new diplomatic division who had training in such matters but it'd become a common request for him to be present for the meetings. The country reps wanted to see who'd be directing Slayers within their borders during serious events and gain his measure.
Then of course there was the mandatory paperwork that came with running his part of a multi-national organization that even when limited to just what'd be relevant to his job was quite a bit. More than that he couldn't just sign his name on the dotted line and call it done. He needed to read through every single line and understand what he'd read to the point where if he needed to have a discussion with someone about the contents he'd be able to hold his own. Even though he'd been given a small staff to help keep up with it all there were still some matters that were for his eyes only and could not be avoided. He did his best, even took out dictionaries to explain words he didn't know, and for the most part could get through a meeting looking more or less competent.
It didn't make it feel any less like the schoolwork he loathed back in Sunnydale and barely tolerated when he got involved in construction professionally.
Looking at the stacks of reports, invoices and letters on his desk he couldn't help but think that it should be more than a decade before someone like him should need to worry about being tied to a desk. Jobs like this were for people whose body could no longer handle the strain of work in the field. He wasn't even in his late twenties yet!
Looking at his situation he had to wonder if there was some way for him to get his missing eye back so he could once more step onto the frontlines. Magic was the obvious option but almost all of the Old Council's practitioners of magic had been slain by the First Evil leaving only those not directly affiliated with the Old Council. Sadly only a handful of those could even be considered trustworthy enough to be approached and none could conclusively be said to possess magic capable of regenerating his missing eye in its entirety. According to Giles healing wounds was much easier than regenerating lost organs or missing body parts and doing the latter usually came at some sort of cost.
Another possibility was the various ingredients that could be obtained from the body of certain demons that according to records produced moderate to high instances of organic regeneration. The problem with acquiring these ingredients was that many of the could only be found in demons that were hard to find or would put up one helluva fight if you tried to take it from them. As much the old gang liked him they couldn't afford to be making enemies or pouring resources into an assignment that would likely take more than a few months to complete. In ten years maybe they would be established enough and have wealthy enough to follow up on this possibility without undue risk but not today.
With a sigh he got out of the comfy chair the others had gotten for him as a present when he was first appointed to his current role and made for the door.
In my official capacity as the Director of Field Operations I hereby call it a day and suspend all paperwork duties until tomorrow. He thought grabbing his jacket from the couch where he'd thrown it earlier.
The fact that it was less than two hours into his 'shift' would probably raise some eyebrows but what was the point of being a director if you couldn't occasionally use it for your own benefit so long as no one got hurt.
Stepping out of his office he turned to his secretary who likewise had turned to him upon hearing the door to his office open and gave her one of his lopsided grins.
"I'm going out for a couple of hours Shannon." He said pulling his coat on as he walked, "If anyone calls just take a note and I'll get back to them later."
"You got it boss." Shannon said with a nod, "Bring me back a snack and I'll even come up with a story that doesn't make it look like you're ducking out of work early."
"You got it." He said turning right to head down the hallway, "Same as always?"
"Same as always." Shannon said confirming their usual arrangement.
This wasn't after all the first time he'd ducked out of work and as long as he made it worth her while Shannon didn't mind covering for him though the price did go up parallel to the difficulty level.
Using a route that he knew would allow him to leave the castle without bumping into any of the other Scoobies he was breathing the fresh air inside of five minutes. From there it wasn't hard to get into his custom car that'd been outfitted with various knick knacks to enable even someone missing an eye to drive without getting in an accident. He didn't understand all of it but a lot of it had to do with sensors spread across the car that would let him know when to slow down and when to stop. So long as the system was kept in tip-top condition he wouldn't need to hitch a ride with anyone and neither would he need to walk to the nearest town.
Considering that they'd chosen the castle HQ because it was far enough from towns and cities to keep innocent civilians out of the crossfire the nearest town was further away than he wanted to walk.
As the scenery passed him by and he listened to his favourite music he directed his thoughts towards things other than work. He thought of his personal life and sadly had to admit that there really wasn't much to it when you got right down to it. Aside from lazing about in his room when he wasn't working or heading to the nearest theatre to see a movie he didn't really have much of a life outside his Director job. Sure the Scoobies still hung out when they could but he, personally, didn't really do much outside of work. No real hobbies or personal projects and definitely no love life whatsoever. For his love life it was the fact that he still didn't feel ready to let go of what he had with Anya but as far as the rest was concerned…he blamed it on never really thinking beyond a week or three.
Most people when they were growing up usually had access to a multitude of things that helped them develop personal projects or goals. Whether it was to master a specific musical instrument or become as good as they could become in a specific sport they gave everything they had to achieve their goals. For him though he'd never had much spare cash to explore all the possibilities and Tony's treatment of him had made him wary of even trying. He knew that his old man hated how worthless he was and anytime someone popped up and proved superior to him the hate only grew stronger. Against others Tony couldn't do much about it without getting into trouble with the law…but with his son in the privacy of their own home…that bastard could do plenty so long as he planned his blows out.
Nothing to the face or the arms or any other part of the body that might be exposed for others to see and nothing that couldn't be explained away as an 'accident'.
Thus whenever it looked like he was getting his act together or an opportunity arose where he could outshine Tony the asshole did whatever he could to sabotage everything. Something need a parent's signature? Tony refused to sign it. Tryouts for something happen? Tony made sure he was stuck doing chores until the tryouts had finished. Make friends with someone? Tony's everyday behaviour made sure that if the students of Sunnydale High School didn't stay away of their own free will their parents would insist that 'they have nothing to do with Xander Harris'.
In the end all he'd been left with was whatever he could buy after taking the booze bottles to be recycled in exchange for money and his two friends who wouldn't abandon him.
When Buffy had shown up and he learned about the truth of the world he'd found a path to follow that'd allow him to matter more than he'd ever dreamed possible. Even if he wasn't the lead protagonist of the story the mere fact that he could stand next to one and fight the good fight was whole levels above what his future had held before Buffy had come. Even when Willow had tried to convince him of his potential he'd never really believed he'd be anything other than a minimum wage work horse. After Buffy arrived though he'd seen the chance to save lives and maybe help to save the world. How many people his age could honestly say they had a chance to do that?
It hadn't just been loyalty to Buffy or some basic desire to do good that'd kept him in the fight this long but the selfish desire to escape the fate connected to him by blood. Of all the ways he might've been able to distance himself from Tony Harris none of them had been as appealing as joining Buffy's fight against the magical and the demonic. All those normal things people might suggest could be done by anyone and weren't all that special. Compared to fighting monsters and people capable of tossing fireballs around those normal things didn't even register as far as he was concerned.
Why aim for something just anyone could get when there was something much grander crossed your path?
Unlike Buffy he wasn't obsessed with the word 'normal' or what it meant in connection to a person's lifestyle. He didn't want to go down the same pathways that countless others already had. He wanted to do something of note, to do something that'd matter, so that even if he never made it into the history books accessible to the public he'd definitely make it into the history books of the Council.
To be remembered and perhaps even admired…was that so much to ask for?
Parking his car a block away from the café that stocked a unique drink he'd become fond of he got out and locked up his vehicle before walking towards it. It wasn't one of those chain café's but rather a family owned one but that in his mind made it all the better since it allowed for more flexibility in their recipes. With chain businesses the cooks didn't have the freedom to experiment or devise their own variations of conventional dishes or drinks. For some stupid reason the people in chain establishments needed to adhere to specific recipes for trademarked menu items with any deviations considered to be failures at the very least or grounds for termination at the very worst. It sort of made sense since any failures would reflect on the chain as a whole affecting profits while for a mom and pop café they were more or less free to do as they wished.
Sitting down at one of the outside tables he didn't have to wait very long for a waitress to approach him and it was one that'd served him in the past.
"Your regular Xander?" Alyssa asked with a genuine grin rather than a fake practiced one.
"Yep and can you bag some of your delicious donuts to go?" he asked remembering what he'd promised Shannon.
"Shannon's covering for ya huh?" Alyssa asked rhetorically even as she nodded in agreement with his request, "Sure thing. I'll be back in five minutes."
With that he was left to his own devices and he chose to pass the time by surveying the goings on of the town lingering only on the things that caught his momentary interest. However when his gaze passed over the table he was sitting next to his mood sharpened and he slid his hand down to an emergency item all senior Council members possessed.
Why?
How else was he supposed to act when out of the blue the seat that had been empty less than a minute ago now had Lord D'Hoffryn of the realm Arashmaharr in it looking right at him?
D'Hoffryn's POV
"D'Hoffryn." Harris said in a cold and emotionless manner.
"Alexander." He said knowing that the young man would react poorly if called 'Mister Harris'.
"You here on business or pleasure?" Harris asked in a way that definitely implied the young man thought both possibilities were one and the same to a 'Justice Demon'.
Not entirely inaccurate since what his band of demons did for a living often did make him feel great pleasure.
However in this case business was sadly pleasure free.
"Business Alexander but not of the sort you're likely expecting." He replied with a bit of a grimace, "It would seem that with your last act in the field you have placed me in your debt. A debt I need to repay by the laws of my kind."
"You're going to have to clear that up for me Hoff." Alexander said with a raised eyebrow of inquiry.
"During your last mission in the field you and your friends were making an effort to shut down the magical black market trade of newly Called Slayers. Your group attempted to be stealthy but eventually a battle broke out involving not only those running the trade but also those who had gathered to buy what was being offered." He explained remembering the facts as they'd been related to him, "In all the confusion many on both sides attacked targets of opportunity rather than anything that was planned out. It was during this chaos that you targeted a blue skinned demon with rows of small horns in place of hair and by sheer chance pierced a critical point with a shot from your crossbow. Needless to say he perished quite painfully thanks to you.
"What you didn't know at the time was that the demon was an enemy of mine that had been making inroads towards taking over my realm and my position. Ever since I lost Anyanka and Halfrek he'd been meeting with the rest in secret to point out my various failures in order to get them to defect to his side." He said remembering the troubling times, "While I would've defeated him in the end and dragged out his suffering over the course of several millennia the cost in terms of assets as well as time would've been significant. By killing him you shattered his power base and ended the threat, however small, that he represented to my domain thus the debt that I owe came to be."
"I don't want to be owed anything by you." Alexander stated making it clear that he still held a grudge for the pain he'd caused Anyanka to feel.
"Nor do I want to owe someone who deprived me of two of my best but sadly neither of us has a choice in the matter." He said with a bit of bitterness in his tone, "My kind are ruled by the deal, the pact, as well as the concept of prid pro quo on a magical level as well as political. I've spent the time since you killed him trying to find a way out of repaying the debt but the rules that govern such things have been…refined over the centuries to make that impossible without costly consequences. As for you if the choice is between controlling the method of repayment and allowing me to come up with something on my own…well let's just say we both know you're smarter than that."
True.
If there was one lesson that all demon hunters learned early on it was what you didn't know could and probably would wind up getting you killed. Almost all those who tried their hand at the job while ignoring research died within the first couple of months and even those who learned as they went survived only a little longer. Alexander knew that leaving him to his own devices with regards to paying back the debt could lead to something of a 'monkey paw' repayment that on the service would appear fitting but underneath held the potential to cause him pain. However if Alexander actually stated what he wished for as a reward or at least was allowed to input his opinion on whatever was suggested a measure of control could be gained reducing the potential risk to some degree.
"Fine. What did you have in mind?" Alexander asked his one eye sharply looking out for any sign of deception or manipulation.
A futile attempt since the human was far too young to have the experience necessary to see through his efforts unless he WANTED them to be seen through.
"I have given this some thought and I believe that I've found an ideal way to clear my debt with you." He said with a confident smile, "What is the one thing you're lacking at the moment? The one thing you'd very much like to have but currently have no means to obtain without causing friction between you and your friends?"
"A steady girlfriend? A million dollars?" Alexander replied with humour that was unique in style to him.
Expected but no less amusing.
"No. What you're lacking but want very much is the sensation of usefulness, of mattering, and that is something I imagine you haven't felt in quite a few weeks if not longer." He said returning the humor with a sharpened version of his own, "I have been keeping an eye on you Alexander for quite awhile if for no other reason than to ensure that none of my other girls fall into your clutches. Ever since you lost your eye to the First Evil's enforcer you've found yourself steadily being pushed towards a position in the bureaucracy rather than remaining on the frontlines. Given your personality it didn't take much consideration to realize how dissatisfied you'd become with such circumstances as time passed."
"So what? You're going to give me my eye back?" Alexander asked almost scoffing at the idea.
"A good guess but no. My expertise would make such an act problematic for both of us." He replied with a negative shake of his head, "However while I cannot help you with that directly that doesn't mean that I cannot set the stage for it to happen indirectly while also allowing you to feel useful again."
"Cut the cryptic bullshit and give it to me straight." Alexander growled obviously having little patience for double talk.
"Very well. Being the powerful being that I am I have also lived for quite a long time and will likely be alive centuries after your body's turned to ash. While the actions of my employees help keep the boredom at bay I occasionally find myself looking at places further away beyond your quaint little reality." He said recalling how he'd been inspired when devising repayment, "It was when I was looking at several different realities that I found several young ladies in need of your sort of assistance. Each of them are living in circumstances that if left unchanged will inevitably lead to great suffering if not death depending on the role of the dice. Considering your 'White Knight' tendencies I doubt you would like to stand by and let that happen if you could prevent it."
"And the indirectly helping me part?" Alexander asked with a raised eyebrow of inquiry.
"Several of these realities are bound to the same rules as this one either mystically or technologically. It is entirely possible that in one of them you might find a means of regaining your eye during the course of rescuing these young ladies." He replied keeping certain details to himself, "Some contain a sort of mysticism that would make growing a new eye child's play while others would have technology that's at least two centuries ahead of what exists in your reality. Best of all the cost of the service would be well within your means to acquire without taking up too much of your time."
He was telling the truth for the most part.
Each of the realities Alexander would go to did possess a method that would result in the restoration of his sight and given the price tag the 'helpful people' would ask for in return it wouldn't take too long to gain the necessary funds. In some cases the service providers might even be willing to restore the missing eye for free if the process was experimental enough or Alexander did something to earn sufficient gratitude to cover the costs of the procedure.
"If these realities are so great then why do you think someone in each of them won't save these girls? Why does you think it should be me specifically?" Alexander asked probing for information.
"Simple. They won't be saved by someone local because they're either in a location unknown to the more moral elements or those inclined to do so would never put themselves at risk to do so. One is a city of science where on the surface learning and benevolent research is being conducted but if one looked underneath they would discover experiments you'd consider inhumane." He replied summarizing the best ones of those he'd selected, "In another a girl is a resident in a facility run by that reality's version of the Order of Taraka miles from anyone who might care to help her."
"If they're so hard to get to what makes you think I'll be able to rescue them?" Alexander asked sounding dubious about his odds, "It's not like I'm some kind of elite agent with Fifth Freedom privileges."
"Don't worry about that. In anticipation of your agreeing to my proposal I've been able to make certain preparations in each reality. They'll be at your fingertips soon after your arrival and should make the rescue efforts significantly easier." He replied not quite lying but definitely leaving certain details out, "So long as you treat the matter with the seriousness it warrants I don't foresee you having much difficulty."
"You're up to something and it's not repaying the debt." Alexander said with a frown developing on his face.
Leave it to 'the one who sees' to recognize an unseen agenda when he sees it. He thought putting on an end to the diplomatic and trying to 'stonewall' the human, However that doesn't mean my plan has failed but rather that it can be accelerated.
"I don't know what you're referring to." He said playing the 'innocent' card, "It's not like I have anything to gain from repaying my debt to you aside from avoiding violating certain rules of my kind."
There.
The seed had been planted and all that was left was to see if the human was insightful enough to separate the wheat from the chafe.
He could see the human was thinking through several possibilities, recalling past encounters with him and his employees, but then a spark of realization became visible.
"You're looking to recruit them. You've already mentioned losing Anya and Halfrek then you tell me about young ladies in fucked up situations." Alexander said with a rise in hostility accompanying the 'discovery' of the truth', "You're hoping that some of them will choose to follow me home and once they're here you'll show up with your job offer. You're counting on them still being pissed enough that dealing out vengeance for a living might catch their interest."
"Please! There are women all over your Earth alone that have the potential to be fine 'JUSTICE' demons. I even have a few prospects under surveillance as we speak." He said scoffing at the idea that he would expend such effort for mere replacements.
"Maybe but I'm betting these 'young ladies' are special in some way. Special in that they blow your 'few prospects' right out of the water as far as what you could do with them as employees." Alexander said growing even more angry at being used as a lure for reeling in new talent.
"If they were as 'special' as you think they are then I'd approach them myself." He said downplaying the value of the young ladies he had in mind, "Why risk failure sending inferior envoys when you can handle the matter in person?"
This sent Alexander's mind whirring once more as the one eyed man tried to figure out all the angles and come up with plausible theories. Seeing this was rather pleasing since it indicated that the human was capable of thinking and analyzing facts rather than just charge in head first without a clue. Alexander Harris had obviously grown since the early days of the 'Scooby Gang' and might just be smart enough to overcome the hurdles he'd encounter should he accept the proposal.
"Because you can't go. Every reality probably has its own set of powerful beings and mystical rules." Alexander said grasping the desired thread quicker than expected, "Those beings probably wouldn't appreciate you poaching people from their domain and the rules might interfere with your own powers. So you need me to act as a go between to get around those obstacles."
"Theoretically, if you're right, then it wouldn't matter if you agreed to my proposal or not." He said trying to make it look like refusal wouldn't impede him in the least, "You're hardly the only potential 'recruiter' I can call on to visit these ladies and bring them back here. You're simply the one with the highest probability of succeeding. I am prepared to accept lesser 'contractors' if necessary."
There.
Now the option of keeping him from the young ladies by simply refusing to take the proposal has been nullified entirely. Alexander now had to choose whether to remain ignorant of what would happen to the young ladies after the second choice in recruiter brought them back or agree to the proposal thus being in a much better position to steer the ladies away from him. Seeing the look of anger on Alexander's face downgrade to a smouldering scowl he knew a choice had been made and it wasn't one that pleased the young man overly much.
"Fine. I'll play white knight to these ladies but ONLY under certain conditions." Alexander said in a tone that made it clear the terms were non-negotiable.
"What are they?" he asked doing an admirable job of feigning exasperation.
"Free will and choice will be absolute. Whether they choose to come back with me or not, choose to become 'Justice Demons' or not, it will be their choice and you WILL abide by whatever they decide." Alexander replied bringing up what was no doubt considered the most important point, "No attempts at coercion, blackmail, mind mojo or manipulation from start to finish. Their lives are their own, their futures their own, and I won't have you taking that from them."
He'd expected as much.
Unlike some people none of the 'Scooby Gang' liked the concept of destiny, fate or any other concept that compromised individual free will. They also knew that demons like him were hardly trustworthy as humans defined the idea and would do whatever could be done to twist or warp a situation to their benefit regardless of the morality of the method involved.
So be it.
"Done. I D'Hoffryn, Lord of Arashmaharr, to swear by my power that I will take no action to infringe on the free will of the mortal females involved in this proposal and neither will I use any methods considered underhanded by humans to bring about a favourable outcome for myself." He said internally taking special pleasure in how he was leaving so many holes in the wording to work with, "So I have sworn, so shall it be!"
Then like most magical promises a brief light show occurred visible only to him and Alexander proving that what he had just sworn was binding. He knew that the young mortal was familiar with magically binding promises but that he lacked the education needed to specifically determine which one he'd just used or how binding it would be. All the mortal would be able to do would be to take past knowledge into account and make an educated guess.
"Secondly for the duration of my 'mission' you will provide what support or information you possess to my friends that could help them save the day with whatever demonic or supernatural problems that crop up." Alexander said showing firmness but with a little leeway present, "Think of it as indirectly harassing the competition or ruining the day of a demon or warlock you don't like. You don't even have to hand off the data yourself. Just pass it off to a Council source in the demon community and let them deliver it."
A true friend if ever there was one.
It almost sickened him and probably would've if he hadn't seen numerous examples of it throughout his long life. Sure walking through a slaughterhouse and experiencing all that the senses could convey was nauseating at first but if you did it a thousand or more times it would merely be unpleasant rather than something compelling you to vomit.
"I will see what I can do but I will not compromise my own safety or that of my employees." He said not bothering with a magically binding promise.
"Didn't expect you would." Alexander said snidely at the mindset most demons had, "Lastly in the event I don't make it back you will explain things, ALL of it, to my friends. They deserve to know and I won't have them go through hell looking for someone they'll never find clinging to false hope."
"Done. Is there anything else?" he asked even as he fondly imagined the pain Alexander's friends would experience should he perish on his journey.
He was a demon after all and the suffering of others brought him a warm tingly feeling.
"No. As long as those conditions are carried out then I'll go." Alexander said the evident resolve enough to make him glad that only a handful of humans possessed anything like it.
Few had the resolve to step onto a human battlefield but even fewer had the backbone to fight things that looked like they'd come right out of their darkest nightmares. Most would be happy to remain ignorant of the darkness and live their happy little lives being none the wiser of the threats that existed all around them. If all of humanity were to possess the resolve he saw in Alexander's eyes and chose to fight the various breeds of demon that were a threat to the human race…well…he might well have been forced to remove his operation from the planet Earth entirely.
"Very well then. As repayment of the debt I owe you I will send you on a journey to aid the young ladies and free them from their current circumstances." He declared even as he gathered the necessary power for what he wished to do, "In doing so you will be useful once more and perhaps find a method by which your missing eye can be replaced. Upon your success off course I will bring you back as well as any of the ladies who wish to accompany you so that you can resume your life here."
As the energy of the reality displacement spell began to visibly manifest it was to Alexander's credit that he did not flinch or show signs of retracting. Then with a nod of his head the human vanished leaving only an empty seat behind and nothing more. He expected that he'd have seconds at best before Miss Rosenberg appeared to investigate his bit of magic so he did the only two things he could.
He used his power to horribly contaminate the area thus making it impossible for Miss Rosenberg to identify who or what had been behind the magic she'd sensed.
And he left enough human money on the table to pay for the meal Alexander would not be here to enjoy.
It would be rude not to compensate Alyssa for the meal.
Earth-1042010
An Alleyway in a Major City
Xander's POV
For a moment there was calmness, stillness, with nary a breeze to be felt or a sound to be heard.
Then…crimson energy crackled into existence a few feet above the alleyway floor bearing a close resemblance to electricity but at the same time arcing outwards in a pattern unlike anything anyone had seen before. Starting at the size of a basketball it expanded with every pulse until it finally reached the size of a wrecking ball and then without any warning the energy condensed into a spherical cage of a sort. It only lasted for two or three seconds at the most before exploding outwards and dropping to the ground someone who had not been there before.
One Xander 'no middle name admitted' Harris.
"O-kay! Not the ride I was expecting but at least the bastard dropped me off close to the ground." He grumbled as he picked himself up off the alleyway floor.
Indeed the landing hadn't been much worse than falling out of the top bunk of a bunk bed. Sure it was painful and he probably had some new bruises to deal with but it was better than broken bones or worse a broken neck. Standing up and looking around he found himself in an alley and based on past experience it wasn't one you'd find in a small town but rather a major city. It was a little comforting that he hadn't been dumped in a reality that was far removed from what he was used to since it'd make navigating everything a lot easier. Sure there might be some language problems but the amulet all Council members wore around their necks would solve that problem easily enough.
It'd been one of the early problems when they'd been working to found the New Slayer Council in that many of the newly Called Slayers were in countries that spoke languages the Scoobies did not. Sure they could've tried to find an interpreter but finding one that was also in the know about the supernatural and demonic was a lot harder than it sounded. In the end Willow had just created the amulets that were magically enchanted to act as a universal translator for them like the com-badges did in the Star Trek TV shows. It'd only work with languages Willow had been able to get books, tapes and the like on but the redhead had promised that she'd work on making a model that could learn new languages given enough raw material to work with.
Walking out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk proper he was taken aback by the design and advanced nature of the city he was now in. It wasn't exactly the city of tomorrow with everyone flying around using jetpacks or anything but there were trash cans on wheels zooming about taking care of the trash and a blimp that had writing appear on it without a screen being attached. He also thought he saw someone with what looked to be a palm pilot but bigger and much more advanced if the glimpse he'd gotten of the screen was anything to go by. Put it all together and he figured either this Earth was at least a century ahead of his own or the city was some sort of test bed environment for new technologies.
Either way it pretty much guaranteed that his time here would be a memorable experience.
Well better get down to business. He thought seeing no reason to delay his new mission at all, Time to find the damsel in distress and see just how difficult rescuing her is going to be.
It was then though that he realized that D'Hoffryn had left out a crucial detail that without it would make accomplishing the mission impossible.
He hadn't been told WHO he'd be helping, what she looked like or even a rough idea of where to look for her!
Asshole! He said he'd done some groundwork for me but then drops me here with nothing! He thought angrily at the impossible mission he'd been given.
Without a picture, a name or even a general area the only way he'd be able to find the young lady in question would be to literally trip over her or blindly attack any shady looking operation he found. Needless to say that'd take time and it'd probably result in a long list of enemies that he'd have to deal with. At the moment he was about ready to let the whole world know what he thought of the Lord of the Vengeance Demons when he noticed something that had him on guard in seconds. Looking at all of the drainage points on either side of the street he began to see bits something gaseous flowing out of them and he didn't think it was natural. During the course of his time with the Scooby gang and then later during his limited field time with the New Slayer Council he'd seen quite a few different kinds of gasses but what he was seeing now didn't quite fit.
However when he noticed the first person begin to sway on their feet he immediately labeled it as something bad and potentially harmful.
As much as he wanted to do something to help the growing number of affected people he couldn't risk getting affected as well. He didn't exist in this reality so he was pretty sure that there'd be quite a few pointed questions sent his way when the authorities tried to identify him only to come up with nothing. Moving to put as much distance between him and the odd gas he made it all of ten steps before his body began to feel sluggish with his movements following suit. Like he usually did he tried to push his way through it and get clear of the affected area but when his right leg gave out on him entirely it was all he could do to put his arms in place to make sure he didn't hurt himself.
Must be a paralytic of some kind. He thought since analyzing the gas was all he could do at the moment, So either whoever's behind this wants to kill a helpless victim or this is a kidnapping.
If that was the case then the wide coverage area must've been to eliminate the possibility of escape while also fogging up who the target was in the first place. Unfortunately if the latter was indeed a part of the operation they'd need to grab more than just their true target to avoid giving themselves away. Hopefully he was far enough away from the perp's true target that he wouldn't get pulled in with the rest of the false victims otherwise he day would officially have gotten worse.
It was a little over a minute later when three black panel vans with tinted windows came speeding around a corner before screeching to a halt in the midst of the afflicted citizens. The second forward motion stopped the rear doors opened up before thugs with gas masks on hopped out and began going to work. There wasn't quite the randomness he'd been expecting when it came to who they picked up and tossed into the back of the vans but he still got the feel that whatever guidelines they were working with weren't very restrictive. In the space of thirty seconds the thugs seemed to have reached their quota and he breathed a sigh of relief that he'd been far enough away not to be included. With a bit of luck they'd terminate the source of the gas and he'd regain enough mobility to get out of the immediate area before the authorities arrived.
"Hey Shingen! Grab that gaijin and toss him in." the grey suit wearing thug yelled at the bald guy with a perpetual scowl on his face, "The boss'd probably like some foreign blood in the mix."
"Fine. Probably be dead in a week and one less gaijin in the world is always a good thing." Shingen said with clear distaste in the word 'gaijin' making a grudge a very real possibility.
Regardless of the motivation he quickly found himself thrown over baldy's shoulder like a sack of potatoes then tossed into the van to land atop some thirty-something lady in an informal ladies business suit. Both of them let out an 'oomph' upon impact but that was pretty much all they could do thanks to the effects of the gas.
It didn't help that thanks to Shingen his face now rested squarely in the middle of the woman's respectable bosom with only just enough room for him to breath through his nose.
While he wasn't opposed to the idea of using a woman's bust as an improvised pillow he was fairly sure that the woman in question found the situation quite embarrassing and anxiety inducing. He'd been around long enough that with the exception of wild child's like Faith most women would immediately retreat if someone's face came into contact with their chest and expect that someone to do the same. Anyone, especially a guy, who did not retreat immediately automatically got the label 'pervert' and 'bastard' pasted to their forehead usually treated as being lower than shit for years to come.
Seeing as how most of his friends were female he'd caught on very early that if he wanted to keep those friends he'd have to do his best to avoid acting like your stereotypical male.
Hard but he'd gotten the hang of it eventually.
Too bad he wasn't able to use his years of conditioning at the moment thanks to his paralyzed state but he was fairly sure that if it came to it the woman would be somewhat forgiving towards him. He was a stranger who was as paralyzed as she was so there was no control involved that would make his position intentional anymore than his continued physical contact.
"How long do you think this batch will last?" the man in the grey suit asked from the passenger side seat.
"Dunno but hopefully a half a year at least." Shingen replied sounding a little nervous, "People might buy the 'illegal slave ring' or a Skill-Out terror attack if it happens once or twice a year but anything more and the pressure'll be on Anti-Skill to get more aggressive."
"Yeah but what can he do. It's not like he can grab cannon fodder from anyplace else and have them all shipped here in crates." Grey Suit said agreeing with his comrade, "Anti-Skill'd definitely pick up on that and that'd lead to trouble. As long as it keeps me off of the boss' slab I'll grab however many people he wants."
"Same here. Guess all we can do is wait and see." Shingen said with resignation in his voice, "Not like they tell us what they're planning on using the people for in the first place."
"Curiosity killed the cat Shingen and I for one plan on living for a VERY long time." Grey Suit said making it clear he wouldn't make waves anytime soon.
Huh.
So the whole scheme was basically kidnapping test subjects for some mad scientist to use in his experiments.
Honestly as horrible and heinous as it was he'd been expecting something a little more elaborate like the kidnapping of a VIP or someone capable of giving them leverage over someone important. To find out that he along with everyone else that'd been paralyzed chemically were just going to be lab rats for whatever needed testing was a little anti-climactic. Still it meant that he'd need to be as observant as possible from here on out so he could take in enough info to make escaping as feasible as possible.
Everything from counting the number of armed guards to what weapons they had along with the construction of a rough mental map so he'd know how to get out of whatever building they took him into. It wasn't like he had a great deal of experience with such things but all the Scoobies had learned to make the most of what little was available to them in terms of info or resources. He'd do his best and when that failed he'd fall back on the method that had become Buffy's signature over the years.
He'd improvise by the seat of his pants and do whatever seemed like a good idea at the time.
It'd be better than doing nothing at all.
The Primary Lab Assigned to Project SYSTEM
An Hour Later
Doctor Kihara Gensei's POV
"Mmmmhmmm. These will make fine samples for the next series of tests." He said observing as the unimportant subordinates strapped the samples to medical gurneys before taking them to the assigned holding area.
As it was the final individual of the last batch of test subjects had lost all usefulness this very morning so by the time that he finished the last of the closing notes of the previous tests he'd prepared to make the request for more. The arrival of new samples moments ago was ideal timing that he could scarcely have planned out better himself since he despised being idle for any length of time. He was already an old man and he knew that at best he might have another decade before his weak flesh fell victim to the maladies of old age. He'd already taken advantage of quite a few treatments in order to extend his life and maintain his mental acuity but the latest prospects for further lengthening of his life did not look anywhere near as promising as those that'd come before.
Thus he'd devoted a little bit of his time to devising one of his own.
It might not be his field of expertise and interest but that just meant that it proved to be something of a challenging hobby for him to indulge in during his spare time. Off and on for almost a year he had attempted to devise a method by which he could extend his life ranging from slowing the division of his cells and thus his aging all the way to reversing the aging process altogether. Though he hadn't expected to gain anything useful he'd requested all previous papers done on the subject of age retardation and age reversal. With an intellect of his caliber it wasn't hard for him to discern if the paper had any value or not within the first few lines and so the garbage was tossed where it'd belonged. After a few weeks worth of inspection he'd managed to whittle down the papers to a mere four that had been written by people who appeared worthy of the benefit of a doubt.
Once he'd gleaned everything he could from the papers as well as the inquiries he'd made to the writers through indirect channels he'd started his own experiments in earnests. Naturally he didn't do anything that'd affect Project SYSTEM instead reallocating funds and resources from the projects that he deemed a waste of time. With most of his time devoted to SYSTEM and doing the bare minimum required upkeep of his body he'd still managed to find a few hours every day to work on his hobby. In the end he'd chosen a route that would best suit his needs as well as provide him with funds for all of his future experiments.
Namely the creation of an anagelectic drug or as some dimwits might call it a fountain of youth drug.
It was an idea that had been around since the beginning of recorded history but had only appeared in scientific circles once a sufficient understanding of the human aging process had been obtained. The idea that by mixing the right chemicals or coding a retrovirus the right way one could turn back the clock and once more be as young as they desired. Whether to relive their childhood or merely be restored to their physical prime it was all centred on the creation of something to give them back time lost. However those that had attempted it before had met only failure and ridicule by those who chose to accept limitations of all sorts in order to be considered 'moral'. He on the other hand would only ridicule them for taking on a goal that their puny brains had no hope of accomplishing even if they worked themselves to death.
Only a scientist of his caliber and intellect could even begin to unravel the secrets of an age regression drug and producing a viable prototype.
Indeed for the past month he'd been testing the first series of possibilities on the surplus test subjects and while they'd all ended in failure they had nonetheless proved to be quite informative. The one thing that the plebian minds that called themselves scientists had correct was that failure could prove to be even more valuable than success in acquiring knowledge. In learning what didn't work and determining WHY it didn't work variables could be removed from consideration and new possibilities could be created in order to further advance his research.
Given a bit more time the next iteration of his experimental drug would be ready for testing and he could see what more he could learn after injecting it into the test subjects. He expected there to be great progress with the new version perhaps even the first glimmer of the finish line if his new theories about the process proved to be accurate. There was nothing more thrilling then to know that you were on the verge of an achievement that placed you head and shoulders above the rest. Indeed with a discovery such as this it would be child's play to bribe politicians, businessmen and lawmakers with a single injection in order to gain full public recognition of his achievement.
True he prioritized the advancement of science above all else but he was not above rejecting the possibility of rubbing the faces of his scientific enemies in his grand successes.
They who considered themselves superior to him for no other reason than the fact that they adhered to a moral code.
They who had not accomplished even one hundredth of what he had with all the chains they voluntarily wrapped themselves in!
They who DARED to call him MAD!
He would prove to them that all their slander and short-sighted condemnations mattered little in the face of the scientific miracles he would bring into the world!
"Hmmm…what is this?" he asked upon seeing the next acquired test subject.
He was aware of the vague outline of the procurement method, fake an attack of some lawless group to disguise the truth, however all he'd expected was the usual assortment of Japanese with perhaps one or two foreigners. To find a young man in his mid-twenties with an eye patch indicating that that the socket was empty and a build that implied significant physical conditioning…odd was the strongest word he found appropriate. While he was sure that statistically it was not impossible for such a person to be living in Academy City a place devoted to knowledge and discovery was an odd place for such a person to be found.
Without hesitation he reached out and removed the patch to confirm the absence of the eye but upon confirmation he had an epiphany of a sort.
While a regression in age would be the ideal result of his drug he had to wonder what effect of any it would have on an injury that even now would be considered permanent even to 'Heaven Canceller'. Would the permanent injury persist even if the body reverted to an earlier physical state? Or would the injury be undone to the point where none would be able to find proof that it'd existed in the first place? An interesting question and one that placed this test subject higher up than any of the others if for no other reason than he would be able to learn more than he would from a perfectly healthy subject.
"Take this one to room 2-A." he ordered the hired muscle on either side of the gurney, "Implement preparation protocol six delta."
"Yes doctor." The man said wisely choosing not to question the order he'd been given or hesitate in following it.
"The rest are to be taken to storage." He ordered to the rest of the drones present, "Ensure that they remain docile and immobilized. I'll get to them in due course."
Nods all around were given to him but he did not respond.
There was no point.
All of them knew that their lives were no longer their own either because of a choice they made or because certain 'incentives' had been placed inside of them. They knew that if they disobeyed or failed to live up to their responsibilities they would go from being cogs in the machine to something that got ground up in between those cogs. None of them had any value that would protect them from consequences. None of their positions were one hundred percent secure and he could easily order them all killed as easily as he breathed the air around them.
Thus their only hope of survival and some measure of profit was through prompt and efficient obedience.
Just as it should be between those who were superior and those who were inferior.
Hours Later
Room 2-A
Xander's POV
Well this is a fine mess I've gotten myself into. He thought even as he continued to work the leather restraints to coax some give in them, Gone from trying to save someone to needing to be saved myself.
Even with the paralytic losing its hold on him he still wasn't in any sort of condition to break out of the place he now found himself in. The problem with that was that he wasn't sure if he had the time to wait for the drug to wear off entirely given the scrub down they'd put him through when he'd been brought to this room. He'd been stripped completely before being thoroughly cleaned using a combination of disinfectants, soaps and gels that quite frankly left him feeling the opposite of clean. Given what he'd managed to put together so far he guessed that they were trying to make him as clean as possible so that when they started experimenting on him there would be a minimum of taint when the results came back.
For him though not only did it mean that he'd have to steal clothes once he got out of the restraints but he'd also have to fumble his way through the Japanese language both written as well as spoken since they'd taken Willow's universal translator amulet. Sure he wasn't a complete amateur when it came to understanding Japanese since he'd been a fan of anime for years but no way could he hold a conversation with a native speaker or read the language. It'd be guess work and he was pretty sure it'd be too much to hope that he'd somehow run into someone who spoke English. Thus his mission had gone from impossible to a complete joke in less than twenty-four hours.
Even for him this was terrible luck.
Still he wasn't about to throw in the towel even with the odds unfairly stacked against him. He had friends waiting for him back home and if the young lady he was meant to save was in a situation that'd make her receptive to the path of vengeance then he could not abandon her.
He could not abandon any of them.
Hearing the door open he turned his gaze towards it to see several people in lab coats coming in with what looked to be some sort of equipment that reminded him of those medical dramas where the patient was hooked up to every sensor under the sun. Since they wouldn't need so much equipment if he was just going to be carved up for organs the only conclusion he could come to was that this was an illegal experiment thing. In a way this could be considered to be a stroke of good luck because with a demon's sense of humour he wouldn't be surprised if D'Hoffryn had plopped him into the path of the same mad scientists holding the one he had come to save.
If so all he'd need to do would be to break free of the room, find a way to access the test subject files and focus on the ones with the highest security protection. True it was possible that the person he was here to save was just an ordinary person or someone that the psychos thought of as barely worth of note but he doubted it. D'Hoffryn was definitely using him to scout for replacement talent to replace Anya and Halfrek and perhaps even boost his influence even further. So if he was here to save anything it'd be for someone with a skill or ability that was either quite powerful or would prove quite useful in the area of being a 'justice' demon. Even if these people had no comprehension of the supernatural they'd have to recognize someone with power or a special skill that set them apart from the rank and file.
Such people would be quite valuable and thus their information would require a certain level of cyber-protection.
Once the lab coat guys had put the last of the equipment into place and hooked him up to it the predictable mastermind showed up in the form of an old man with a creepy smile on his face. With a birthmark on his right temple the man definitely gave off the creepy vibe of chief mad scientist and the fact that the geezer had no trouble moving about without ever opening his eyes more than a slit was impressive.
He surely hoped that the guy was like most mad scientists who liked to talk a lot to flaunt how superior he was to everyone else because that could be useful.
"I don't suppose any of you speak English?" He asked looking at each of them in turn hoping he could get a conversation started with at least one of them.
"Ah, an American if I'm not mistaken." The old man said looking at the displays in turn, "Good. Since there are very few from your country here in Academy City it's doubtful that anyone knows you're here or will even be looking for you. It's such a tedious detail fabricating false identities and consent papers."
"Yeah. Paperwork's no fun no matter the reason you have to do it." He said keeping up a conversational tone, "So what's with all the machines? I feel pretty fine so I don't think there's anything wrong with me."
"Quite so. You appear to be in quite good shape." The old man said with a confirming nod, "The equipment is so that we can obtain a detailed record of the changes you're body will likely undergo over the next twenty-four hours or so.
"Changes?" He asked not liking the sound of that.
Anything that would result in such changes tended to be a bit serious and held the very real potential of killing him if his luck went the wrong way.
"Yes. You are to be the first test subject to receive the latest version of my anagelectic drug." The old man replied sounding optimistic about the results he would get, "In laymen's terms it is a drug designed to reverse the aging process in a human being returning them to a physical state comparable to what they were five to seven years ago. Naturally it's possible to push for even further regression by increasing the dosage but it'd be a waste of materials if you expired simply from the strain. Better to start out small and identify what if any harmful effects the drug has on the human body before attempting to achieve more."
He was being used as a lab rat for some sort of fountain of youth drug?
Huh.
"You'd think people would be lining up for something like that." He said not being able to figure out what else to say.
"Oh I'm sure they will be however it's still quite experimental." The old man said upon being satisfied that the equipment was in order, "The test subjects of the last iteration did experience some regression in age however it wasn't uniform throughout their entire body. Instead the parts of their body centred around hormone production would regress whereas other areas would undergo unexpected growth. Sigh…I suppose the only saving grace would be that they all expired with a minimum of screaming and soiling themselves."
Trying to imagine the test subjects in his head it really reminded him of some of the mutants of Mars in the movie 'Total Recall' and he shuddered at the possibility of an entire hospital ward being filled with the 'failures'.
"There's gotta be a few things in this place you're happy about." He said sounding like he was trying to cheer the man up, "One experiment or another that's coming along well."
"You're quite right subject zero-zero-one-omega." The old man said with an especially creepy smile, "As a matter of fact Project Fulgora is coming along swimmingly. The container has remained stable and has been modified to maximize its potential while minimizing any negative side-effects. As for the acquisition of the cognitive components and their integration into the neural matrix it's proceeding at an adequate pace."
He didn't get everything about what the old man had said but it sounded like part of it was to take thoughts or maybe parts of a group's minds and incorporating them into a new whole. However whatever they were putting the newly made mind into there wasn't enough information to determine if it was something living or mechanical. Personally he was leaning towards a mechanical body since most mad scientist operations like this had goals centred around immortality or war. A flesh and blood body would be too fragile for anyone to be satisfied with the results even if it'd been genetically modified to be more durable than a natural human body.
Doesn't sound like a 'young lady' to me unless they're planning on making the mind of the machine female. He thought a bit disappointed that he hadn't hit pay dirt right away.
"Now the drug I'm going to give you needs to be introduced into you at a set rate in order to keep expiration from occurring due to sheer shock." The old man said taking out a rectangular container that he opened to reveal an advanced looking capsule, "Fortunately I've already calculated the proper rate of introduction for the drug so if there is any failure it will be more because your body was somehow defective."
He wanted to exclaim 'HEY' at that insult but he could already tell that the old man wouldn't care one little bit and would just continue speaking.
"I doubt you'll be all that coherent at the time but when a subordinate of mine comes to check on you periodically I would appreciate it if you would describe any sensations that you experience." The old man said off hand before inserting the capsule into one of the machines, "It would be quite helpful to my experiment."
With the press of a few buttons all the machines began to go to work including the one that the capsule had been inserted into. Almost reflexively he looked to the transparent tube connecting the capsule machine to his right arm and watched as the contents of the capsule worked their way towards him. Like he'd experienced many times before waiting for something to happen was almost always WAY worse than the actual event itself. Seeing the mixture of golden fluid with blue specks advance likely through some form of air pressure towards him his imagination came up with dozens of possible futures awaiting him ranging from mild tingling to the sort of pain that'd impress D'Hoffryn.
The truth turned out to be something that defied description, something that made time cease to have cognitive meaning for him, but rather than pain it felt like his entire sense of feeling was getting tossed about in a hurricane. Chaos and randomness was what directed what he would feel as well as when he would feel it. Amidst it all the thought that he might actually prefer the traumatizing pain to this formed for a split second before being torn to shreds by the chaos.
In the end though it proved to be too much for a conscious human mind to endure and so gratefully he allowed himself to fall into the sea of unconsciousness.
He prayed that when he awoke both he and the world would still make sense.