Man, I remember when there were going to be a lot more of these intermission chapters... oops.

Several Months Prior to the Events of the Story...

"Read 'em and weep."

Church, clad in a plain black T-shirt and jeans with an unwanted hole near the knee, leaned forward to eye the cards that had been placed on the cement between himself and his companion, an older brown haired kid in a green jacket named Ulrich. Thanks to the towering walls of the buildings that formed this alley, it was kind of dark and difficult to see.

They were playing Triple Triad, an extremely rare card game that they had definitely not stolen from an old video game. Played on a three by three grid, the objective was to have more cards under your control when the field was filled than the opposing player. Each card had a numerical value that corresponded to one of the cardinal directions. If you played a card with a higher value on the side that touched an opposing player's card, that opposing card became yours. Ulrich had just placed a pretty strong card down, with a value high enough to flip one of Church's own. Only the middle space on the three by three grid was still open.

Ulrich seemed pleased with himself. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to play cards with Church over the past two months or so, thanks to some unfortunate circumstances in the latter's life. The two of them really only hung out to play games like this in the first place, so without it, their relatively shallow friendship didn't have much else to go on. Either way, he was glad to even up the scoreboard, since he had lost their last game two weeks ago.

Church cocked an eyebrow at Ulrich's satisfied grin, then nonchalantly placed one of his few remaining cards in the middle of the grid, with values high enough to flip both the card to its left and under it. Needless to say, this put Church up by a few points, and Ulrich wasn't able to do anything about it other than complain.

"Man, how long did you know this round was a done deal for you?"

The relatively fresh seventeen year-old across from him shrugged, with only a bit of a smirk. "Since the third card was put down. But I didn't want to burst your bubble, so I kept it to myself."

"Ugh. Jackass..."

The two of them began collecting their cards, ignoring the sounds of passing traffic and pedestrians. It wasn't even noon yet, but Bethesda was a major city, so it still got pretty busy around this time. The conversation quickly moved away from cards, thanks to some concerns from Ulrich.

"So, have you actually eaten breakfast today?"

This question immediately put a frown on Church's face, though his voice stayed pretty level. "I got something from a soup kitchen."

"Something edible, I hope."

"It was close enough."

Leaning back against the alley wall, Ulrich folded his arms. "I thought you were out here making money. You couldn't afford a McDonald's or something?"

His companion scoffed at this. "I'd sooner starve. Besides, I'm perfectly fine with eating at a soup kitchen if it saves money."

"Is it worth it to save a whole eight bucks or so?"

Church didn't deign that with a response. The bills that he was saving up for were astronomical, compared to what he was feasibly capable of making right now. He had roughly three months to accumulate enough funding for an experimental medical treatment that might have the potential to finally bring his Mom out of that coma she'd been in for years now.

Normally that kind of burden wouldn't have fallen on someone who wasn't even eighteen, but the American taxpayer only paid to have someone remain on life support, provided the patient couldn't afford it themselves. The American healthcare system wasn't going to pay for an optional treatment. Moreover, no one else in the family was going to pay for it. That was probably because the only family Church even knew about was his uncle-in-law, a huge prick that had mistreated the aunt Church had never known. She'd died when he was too young.

Point being, the time frame for this medical experiment was three months. No one was going to pay for it unless Church managed to, and he needed tens of thousands of dollars.

So far, he had just over a thousand.

To say that it wasn't going well was an understatement. He'd mostly been making money via odd jobs anywhere he could get them, since a nine to five job wasn't feasible in his current living situation and wouldn't have made money fast enough anyway. He was tempted to give that fighting ring downtown a try, but knew that he lacked the martial skill to realistically make anything of that. For now, he just deflected Ulrich's question.

"Don't you have bigger things to worry about, Ulrich? Last time I checked, Yumi was still pissed at you."

The brown-haired boy across from him visibly recoiled at the mention of his girlfriend. "Hey, I had no idea she was going to flip out like that over a cigarette. I mean geez, I barely got to smoke it before she chewed me out..."

"Well, you deserved it. You ever see one of those comparisons between healthy lungs and smoker's lungs? No thank you."

Well aware that Church was trying to direct the conversation elsewhere, Ulrich decided against playing along. Church may have been his once-a-week-or-two game buddy and little more, but he was still kind of worried about his current living situation.

"Hey, Yumi may still be mad at me, but you know she offered to let you sleep on our couch. I'm pretty sure that still stands if you need it."

Seeing that his evasion was getting him nowhere, Church frowned again as he took a peek at the smartphone in his pocket to determine the time. He had one of those odd jobs to be at in an hour or so.

"I appreciate that, but I'm not so bad off that I need to intrude just yet."

"Dude, you're living like a homeless person."

"I'm not homeless, I'm a runaway. There's a difference."

Ulrich scoffed at this as he peered out to the street. No one seemed to care that the two of them were here. "Nah man, you're homeless. I checked yesterday: you know there's still not a missing persons report for you? And you've been gone from the Simmons' for how long now? Weeks? Two months or something?"

Church smirked, not at all surprised at the information Ulrich was providing to him. "Ah, fuck 'em. They never liked me, I never liked them. Who cares?"

"Well c'mon, they may have been lackluster foster parents, but at least you slept in a bed and ate food. What are they even going to tell CPS? Shouldn't a case worker have checked in by now?"

Now it was Church's turn to scoff. "What, Mr. Tucker? That dickwad barely did his job in the first place. No idea how he keeps it. Either way, he probably hasn't visited yet and if he has, he probably shrugged at my absence. Or maybe the Simmons' just told him I was in my room and he waved his whole inspection. Who knows?"

It was pretty obvious at this point that Church wasn't going to ask for help, at least not from Ulrich. So the older boy merely shrugged. He'd offered, so that was the extent of his moral obligation. Besides, he knew that Church had somewhere to be, based on the constant checking of his phone while they were playing Triple Triad. There was no real point in trying to extend this line of conversation any further.

"Whatever man, it's your life. But if you really are hellbent on making money on side gigs out here, have you reconsidered that government testing site? It's been up for a month."

This was not the first time such a topic had come up between them. Last time they had met for a game, Ulrich had brought this up. Apparently, some government agency had set up shop in a warehouse in order to run tests on volunteers. Allegedly, nothing bad had happened to anyone yet, but even though Church was far from a conspiracy theorist, he still thought it sounded shady.

"That again? C'mon Ulrich, it's either a scam or the beginning of horrific mutations for everyone that got involved."

"Yeah, you say that, but Jeremie walked away from that warehouse with three hundred bucks in cash. He says that all he had to do was sit in a chair with a bunch of gadgets. Nothing invasive at all. And if they like whatever it is they're testing you for, you get to go back. He got seven hundred bucks the second time. Maybe it's something to do with that big scandal that happened with our Infinite Stratos. You know, that thing that happened on the news?"

Church knew what Ulrich was talking about, but only a bit. He'd really just seen it in passing on the news at some point. Something about a military Infinite Stratos unit losing control and causing damage to foreign property, or something like that. Church hadn't really paid it any mind. After all, while Infinite Stratos had made a pretty big impact on the world in a manner of speaking, it actually changed very little about day-to-day life for regular people. The fact that military technology included gender locked flying mecha really had no bearing on the daily lives of 99% of the world's population. Church had next to no reason to really keep up with anything related to it. Heck, if you didn't fly one or go to school for one, Infinite Stratos may as well have not existed at all. Most people never even saw them in person.

As for the idea of a government testing site for any reason, he was a little wary of the whole situation, though Church couldn't deny that it sounded lucrative. At the very least, it seemed like an easy way to make a few hundred dollars.

"First of all, if it had anything to do with Infinite Stratos, they wouldn't have been running tests on Jeremie. Girls only, remember? I am curious though... what kind of information did they ask for? Did you have to be over eighteen?"

Ulrich shrugged. "According to Jeremie, they just wanted an ID. He also said he saw a kid younger than him for sure, so I guess they don't care if you're 18 or not."

Silent for a moment, Church calculated whether or not he felt the expedition would be worth it. At least one acquaintance had gone into the building and back out, so it wasn't like people were being kidnapped or anything. Admittedly, it still sounded a lot like some sort of criminal enterprise, but as long as he wasn't in danger of being arrested...

"Well, I have an engine to fix at two, but... where was this warehouse again?"

Hours later, covered in a bit of grease and oil smudges after working on an old Mustang for a little over a hundred bucks, Church stood before a large, mostly unassuming warehouse on the outskirts of town, red brick and white rooftop standing in stark contrast to the afternoon sky. There was a banner pinned to one side of the entrance that read "official United States government testing area. Volunteers welcome, three hundred dollars compensation."

His hands in his pockets, Church peered around the area, trying to determine how willing he was to put any faith in this whole thing. Would a government sanctioned testing area really be in an old warehouse like this? Why not set up somewhere that was more in the public eye? They were letting people in and out, so it wasn't like they were trying terribly hard to hide anything. Heck, Church saw a teenage boy walking out right now, happily spreading a trio of hundred dollar bills in his hands. Everything seemed to be as advertised, on the surface.

Ultimately, Church decided that he should just roll with it. People weren't dying or disappearing, he apparently didn't have to do much, and it was easy money. As long as those things were true, he was probably just better off not asking questions.

Walking towards an open door, Church passed the boy he had noticed earlier. He couldn't see anything weird on his body, so perhaps these tests really were mundane. It was a small comfort, at least. When he entered the warehouse, he found that it was very well-lit, though mostly due to the addition of light fixtures that had clearly not been part of the original structure. There was brand new equipment everywhere: lots of wires, tubing, digital readouts, and a load of other crap that he couldn't possibly determine the use of.

Before he had a chance to look around too much, someone on his right called out to him. "Hello sir, are you here for the volunteer testing?"

Glancing in that direction, Church laid eyes on a young woman with short brown hair and green eyes. She was shorter than him, but clearly older as well. He hated to admit it, but the presence of a pretty woman put him somewhat more at ease: had he encountered a bunch of rough looking men, he would have been a little more wary about being here.

However, he did note the uniform the woman wore. It was mostly dark gray, with a few white accents. Obviously not a military uniform. Most interesting was the presence of the letters U.S. on the shoulder, something one would have ordinarily assumed meant United States. But usually, U.S. was followed by some moniker that specified how the organization was tied to the country. U.S. Army, U.S. Navy, stuff like that. This one just said U.S., and the opposite shoulder had an emblem that looked oddly reminiscent of the Earth with a veil of black partially covering it. Church had no idea what any of that meant: maybe this was some weird tech development agency? Even the average citizen knew that America was in a rush to find some new countermeasure to Infinite Stratos, now that U.N. sanctions had robbed them of their share of the things. It didn't do for a world power to lack the world's most powerful weapon, and even worse, to have no response to it.

That was pure conjecture on his part though. As for this brunette woman, maybe her charming smile was just a front for some extremely nefarious end. But for now, Church didn't feel like he was in any danger, so he decided to identify himself as a volunteer.

"Uh, yeah, but... may I ask what kind of testing this is? What's it for?"

Seeing that he was indeed here for what mattered, the young brunette stepped closer to him. It was then that Church noticed a similarly uniformed guy further in the corner with a handgun strapped to his waist. He tried to keep that from alarming him: if there was anything important to the government here, it made sense that there would be at least one guy with a gun around to protect it. The woman either ignored his discomfort or didn't notice it.

"This testing is to aid in the development of new equipment for soldiers. I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to reveal any more information than that. However, I can tell you that this test will only be monitoring and measuring physical data about your body. There will be nothing invasive and you will be paid three hundred dollars upon the test's completion. Would you still like to participate?"

That smile never fell from the woman's face, giving Church the distinct feeling that it was heavily practiced. But hey, wasn't that true of anyone who had to sell things to others?

"Sure, I guess. Is there like, a waiver I need to sign?"

"That won't be necessary. All we need from you is an ID."

The fact that they were asking for so little for something like this raised another red flag in Church's head, but it wasn't enough to send him packing. Maybe there was no need for a waiver because there was no chance of getting hurt or anything?

"I have a driver's license."

The brunette held her hand out, indicating that a driver's license was sufficient. When Church handed it to her, she took out some small scanner-like tool from a pocket and scanned both sides of it. To what end, Church had no idea. When she was finished, she handed it back to him.

"Thank you very much for volunteering for this test, Percival. Please follow me."

Church fought down the urge to ask for identification by last name, mostly on the basis that it wouldn't matter with this stranger. He did a lot of things for his mom even though he didn't remember much about his relationship with her, but he had always questioned her choice of name for him. He'd never liked it.

Regardless, he followed his temporary guide into the warehouse, where she eventually led him to a chair not that different from a dentist's. "Please sit here."

With no one being overly fond of dentists, Church was a little nervous about doing that, but he ultimately did anyway. Once that was done, the brunette waved over some technicians in stereotypical white lab coats. They didn't say anything: clearly the smiling woman was the spokesperson here.

"We'll need to affix some equipment to your body. Have you ever had an EKG?"

"Once."

"Then it will be very similar. We will also need to place this virtual reality headset over your eyes."

She said that while one of the technicians held up something that looked like oversized binoculars.

"Uh, I don't mind, but what for?"

"Suffice to say, we will be using it to measure data related to your vision and eyes."

Frankly, Church thought that explanation was very vague, but he had already agreed to all of this, so there wasn't much to be done about it now. Ultimately, he was put through a whole process: electrodes were affixed to many places on his body, including his scalp. He assumed that was to measure brainwaves or something. The VR goggles and even some noise cancelling headphones were placed on his head. There were a few sensors placed on his extremities. What any of this was supposed to achieve or how it helped develop anything, Church had no idea.

When it was all said and done, the woman who had done all the talking so far signaled the beginning of the tests, and that it would take about an hour. When that was announced, Church was thrust into the virtual environment the test had prepared for him, though it was purely visual and auditory. Without the use of his limbs, it felt more like sitting inside a movie than actually being in a different location.

That said, even in such a scenario, the false environment ended up being very gripping, for one obvious reason: it was real combat footage. Church supposed some people doing these tests may have been convinced that it was all fake, or maybe digital, but Church could tell that it was plenty real. There was just something very visceral about it.

In the beginning, the footage had him following an infantryman in a desert city of some sort. Assuming this had been the real deal, Church assumed it would have been somewhere in the Middle East. Afghanistan, maybe. It started mundane enough: some sort of patrol through the streets. But within a minute or two of the test starting, a firefight broke out, starting with the soldier in front of Church having a hole blown clean through his torso and spattering blood all over the 'screen.' Lots of screaming and gunfire followed.

He flinched at that, because who wouldn't? But while he had no control over how his avatar reacted to the situation, Church's eyes immediately began scanning around for where the shot had come from. It felt a little weird, being invested even though he knew he wasn't in real danger, but watching a battle unfold through the eyes of a soldier in it kind of forced you to be invested.

Church spotted the enemy just before his avatar did, so he was treated to a first person view of gunfire. Video games didn't quite do it justice. As the battle unfolded, there was plenty else to focus on. He saw a grenade flying through the air that his avatar clearly hadn't, and spotted a few hostiles that went unnoticed by the soldiers until they started firing. He saw a lot of other people get killed: friendly soldiers, enemy combatants, even a few civilians, but at no point did he let it distract him from the situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure if it was good or bad that he could brush off real footage of people being blown away so easily.

Somewhere in the midst of all this, Church wondered what exactly this test was measuring. Were they tracking his eye movements, writing down what he did and didn't notice and how he reacted as data points? If so, why? He really didn't know what they were trying to achieve here.

Eventually, the skirmish in the streets came to a close, and faded to black. Church felt that it hadn't been an hour yet, so he was a little confused about this. However, as a new visual faded in, the question was answered. This time, he found himself following the experience of a pilot in a jet fighter. With some knowledge on planes from pure interest and little else, he easily identified it as an F-22. The presence of a wingman in the skies around him with such a plane helped on that front.

The process was much the same as it was the first time. Church was treated to a very real combat mission, though this one seemed a little more curious. He had no idea who the U.S. Airforce was actually getting into air-to-air combat with these days. For one, Infinite Stratos kept most air units at bay, even though the mechs were forbidden from engaging in open warfare. It was pretty odd to see jet fighters engaging each other these days. Then again, F-22s were decades old, so maybe this footage was from before Infinite Stratos was even around?

He couldn't help but wonder if this was a similar test to the first one, measuring his visual prowess, reaction time, or something similar. Maybe it had nothing to do with that at all, and they were actually measuring something related to his brainwaves or physical twitches. He had no idea.

But when it was all over, when they finally started taking all of the equipment off of him, he was hoping to get an answer of some sort. When he was allowed to view the present world again, he found that brunette woman with a clipboard in hand, still smiling. He spoke first.

"So, uh... did I do good?"

At this question, the woman's smile grew wider. "Very good, Percival. In fact, one of the best out of the people we've tested so far. That's why we'd like to ask if you'd be open to further tests."

"Oh, um... now? Will I get paid more?"

Glad to see that he was considering it, the voice of his mysterious guide was a little chipper. "Oh, much more. In fact, there's a whole series of tests we're conducting, but you have to pass a certain benchmark for each one to be eligible for the next. Needless to say, you are more than qualified for our second test, which we'll pay you seven hundred dollars for. If you make it beyond that, rest assured, the compensation will grow exponentially."

Church was obviously quite enthused with this notion. He easily forgot about asking what data they had even been recording. "How much more, exactly?"

"If you make it to our fifth and final test, we'll reward you ten thousand simply for participating. There's a total sum of twenty thousand for all five tests."

Considering his financial woes, Church was immediately impressed by that number. Sure, as far as medical bills was concerned, twenty thousand wasn't that much. But it was sure as hell a lot more in a lot less time than he was capable of right now.

"Alright, I'm in! Do we start now?"

"I'm afraid not. We'll need some time to set up the right equipment for the follow-up test. Will you be available at this same time tomorrow?"

Admittedly, Church had an appointment with another guy to change his spark plugs, but he was more than willing to write that off. "Absolutely."

"Excellent! Then we'll see you tomorrow!"

Over the course of the week, Church returned to the warehouse several times. The tests became more and more bizarre each time, but they also gave him more and more money for it.

On the second day, they hooked him up to more electrodes on his scalp, then set him in front of two mechanical arms that were somehow attached to the same apparatus. He spent three hours doing whatever the brunette asked of him, with the catch being that he had to command the mechanical arms with his mind. The tasks became more and more intricate as time wore on: it started with simple things like holding cups, and ended with him tying complex knots, threading needles, and all sorts of other things that required great dexterity.

When it was all over, she told him that the test had been aced yet again, and they gave him seven hundred dollars, with an invitation to come back the next day for more tests and a whopping three thousand dollar pay increase. At that point, Church had no idea what they were testing for, why, or why they were willing to pay so much for it, but he sure as hell didn't care.

On the third day, he finally learned the brunette's name, though only because it had slipped in an exchange between her and the technicians. Sasha, supposedly. It didn't matter much, since the relationship was purely practical and revolved entirely around Church being a guinea pig, but he was still glad. Maybe he was just weirdly fond of Sasha because he hadn't done much talking with girls in his teenage years. He'd gone on a few dates, but most of them had been shallow and ultimately fruitless. For some reason, being a bitter, angry foster kid who spent most of his time rebelling against his immediate authority had excluded him from making out with any girls. Maybe he had just been going after the types who weren't into that kind of thing.

The third test ended up being a combination of the first two. He was once again put into a virtual environment, but this time, he was able to interact with it. But like the second test, he was forced to control all of his actions through thought alone. He was once again thrust into a virtual battlefield, but now he had to actually fight in it.

By the time that test rolled around, Church believed that he knew the purpose of all these tests. Maybe the government was trying to build robotic soldiers that could be controlled from afar? Like drones, but human analogs. It made some kind of sense: if you could build robot soldiers, but being controlled by human soldiers like some sort of video game, you had the benefits of a machine that didn't feel pain or fear, but the ingenuity and willpower of a human.

Maybe robot soldiers seemed like small, pointless things with big flying death machines in existence, but the thing was, no one was allowed to use Infinite Stratos in open combat, so they were kind of irrelevant in actual warfare. Remote controlled robot soldiers wouldn't be.

He'd asked Sasha if he was right about that after the third test was over, but she hadn't confirmed or denied it, instead offering him a staggering six thousand dollars for participating in a fourth test the day after. Naturally Church had complied.

When the fourth test rolled around, Church was forced to rethink his theory on the purpose of everything he had done here so far. This time, he was not remotely plugged into any sort of machine that he would control from a distance. They had an actual exoskeleton for him. Not like a full on suit of armor or anything, but an amalgamation of braces, support struts, and other equipment that would feasibly enhance the physical abilities of the wearer.

For the first time since the second test, Church forgot about all the money involved and got a little wary again. Were they paying him so much because this was dangerous? Would one wrong move in this thing snap his spine? Ultimately, he managed to suppress those concerns: he was apparently one of very, very few test candidates that had made it this far. maybe even the only one, by the way Sasha spoke sometimes. Surely they wouldn't want to lose him to some freak accident, right? That's what he told himself, at any rate.

As expected, he was instructed to enter the exoskeleton. Obviously, he would be unable to move its heavy metal limbs with his own strength, so he had to 'think' every action. Frankly, he was surprised that this kind of technology existed, but maybe it wasn't that far-fetched: there were teenage girls flying around in giant mecha with laser weapons these days. A powered exoskeleton seemed tame in comparison. Heck, maybe it had even been derived from Infinite Stratos.

The entire warehouse had been converted into an obstacle course of sorts for him to engage in. Once he was familiarized with moving the exoskeleton around, Sasha and her cohorts ushered him into the course as quickly as possible. It started off fairly easy, with the types of things one would expect from bootcamp: running, crawling, climbing, balancing, the works. Eventually, he was afforded a fake weapon a la laser tag, and asked to go through a mock urban environment, shooting at people who popped out to get him with fake guns of their own. Church didn't know if those people were volunteers themselves or employees of whatever government agency he was doing all this shit for. He supposed it didn't matter, because at the end of the day, he managed to clear the whole thing, only getting grazed a few times and outright shot twice.

He was partly amazed that he managed to do so well in that regard, because it wasn't like he had any real training to be a soldier or anything similar. But then again, the exoskeleton was being operated by his thoughts. It moved where he wanted it to move as quickly as he thought to want it, pulled the trigger on his faux gun the moment it crossed his mind to do so. When the exoskeleton did all the physical work, and you just had to think what to do as fast as you could, training didn't matter nearly as much as it would have otherwise. Besides, it wasn't like he had John Wick'd the training course or anything. He'd been shot a few times and he hadn't gone through it particularly quickly. But apparently, he did good enough to qualify for the fifth test.

In the span of just a few days, he had made ten thousand dollars doing a variety of weird experiments for some alleged government entity. He had been forced to go out and buy a backpack just to keep it in, since his benefactors preferred cash for whatever reason. Not that money was an issue for that small expense, especially considering that the final test was supposed to be worth another ten thousand all on its own.

Today was the day of that test. His, supposedly, final day at the warehouse. By now he was pretty familiar with it, even though it changed internal appearance every once in awhile. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that he hadn't seen anyone else coming in and out for tests for the past few days. It was a thought he ignored with intent.

Oddly enough, the testing warehouse was not in any sort of special configuration today. In fact, it was almost entirely empty, save for a table in the center that Sasha was sitting comfortably at. Right this second, Church was across from her. It was weird, seeing the place so empty. Almost like no one had ever been here at all.

"So, uh... what's the final test? There doesn't seem to be anything in here today."

As always, Sasha's smile never fell. Admittedly, Church didn't find it very charming at this point. It never fell. It was unnatural. Sasha didn't seem to pick up on his discomfort with the notion.

"Well, the final test is a little different from the other ones. We have to discuss it beforehand. Can't just jump right in."

Church cocked an eyebrow at this, wondering what was so special about the final test. He supposed he was going to find out. Sasha wasn't the type to waste time.

"This test... will involve live ammunition. We'll be putting a real weapon in your hands, equipping you with an armored variant of the exoskeleton from yesterday, and pitting you against other people vying for your prize. You will have to shoot them. They will shoot at you. Naturally, you'll have to agree to this if you want the money for participating in this test."

There was silence between the two relative strangers as Church took this ludicrous proposition in. Frankly, he was just having a hard time wrapping his head around this one. Sure, the tests had been getting more and more complicated and advanced, but this was something else.

"Hold on, you want me to shoot at other people, and get shot at myself? I'm not even going to ask about legalities, but you want me to kill or be killed for just ten thousand? That's crazy!"

For the first time since he had met her, Church saw the smile fall from Sasha's face. Not that she was trying to intimidate him. Her expression was just far more neutral than he had ever seen it. Maybe it was because she was getting serious.

"Don't be so dramatic, Percival. As I said, you'll be wearing an armored variant of yesterday's exoskeleton. The chance of you or anyone in the test being killed is very low. Besides, there's more than an extra ten thousand at stake here."

"Such as...?"

"Percival, we're not conducting all of these tests in order to develop new equipment. We're looking for an... agent. An ideal agent. These tests have been conducted all over the country. My organization wants to hire the perfect candidate to represent a particular interest. The ten thousand is just for participating in the final test. But if you win, we'll give you whatever you want to work for us. Money will be no object. Covering your mother's medical expenses for the rest of her life would be simple."

Church's eyes narrowed at the mention of this. "How did you-"

"We're with the government, Percival. You showed me your driver's license. We know everything about you now. Not to track you or anything: we just wanted to be sure that you fit the mold of ideal candidate for what we have in mind."

"Then you must also know I'm a runaway foster kid. There's all sorts of legal bullshit to wade through there. Not to mention, I'm only seventeen. Why me? You can't seriously be telling me that someone my age is the perfect choice for... whatever the hell it is you're trying to get me to do."

At this, Sasha's smile finally returned. Church almost wished that it hadn't. "Your legal status will be of no concern in our employ. We'll take care of all of that. As for your age, it's just a number. We're not going to ignore a viable candidate because he's just shy of what this country considers adulthood. You can enlist at sixteen. This will be similar."

Silence reigned between them for another minute. Sasha seemed happy about that: maybe because she knew Church hadn't completely turned down the idea yet. The boy was still thinking about it, after all.

"...what exactly are you people trying to hire me to do? Based on all these tests, it sounds like you're trying to turn me into a soldier or an assassin or something."

"Not quite. Truthfully, the role we wish for you to fill may include some fighting, but the intent is not for you to fight specifically, at least not to a life-risking extent. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but that would be foolish before knowing if you'll be working with us in the future."

Frankly, Church found that explanation pretty concerning. They didn't want him to risk his life specifically, but the final test was a live fire exercise where he had to shoot at other people? What would be the point of a test like that other than to determine whether or not he was willing to be put into dangerous situations, and if he was willing to potentially kill others?

Maybe Sasha read the consternation on his face, because she tried awfully hard to sell the idea to him. "There's more than just money to consider, Percival. My organization is a very privileged arm of the U.S. military. Your life is going nowhere right now: a young man struggling to make ends meet for an impossible goal..."

Even though that was true, Church couldn't help but glare at the woman. He would have preferred for it to be worded a little differently. Sasha didn't seem to mind, instead continuing on with her point.

"But we can take care of that for you. Any treatment you want for your mother, we'll cover. You can have an expensive ride. Foods no one has ever heard of, escorts rich men would kill for. Makes no difference to us. But even beyond payment, you'll get to do something worthwhile with your life. See foreign lands, engage with the cutting edge of technology, experience things few people in this world ever do... this is well and truly a once in a lifetime opportunity. And all you have to do is trade some lead in a relatively safe environment. It will be hardly any different from a video game."

Church knew that last part was a lie, because if it was no different from a video game, he could have just played a video game. But as much as he hated to admit it, the whole thing did sound pretty enticing. He was living in a pretty hopeless situation right now, as far as what he was trying to achieve. Even if he walked away now with the ten thousand he had earned, that was going to amount to very little in the long run, especially in the world of medicine.

And while the rest of that stuff sounded like a brochure of some sort, if it was true, it sounded pretty good. Well, he didn't need women that had been paid to hang off his arm, but he had always wanted to see the world, and he liked the idea of being a part of something innovative and important that helped his country. Heck, maybe Ulrich had even been right. Maybe this did have something to do with Infinite Stratos: just not with flying one, was all.

And all he had to do was get shot at. But supposedly he would be safe, so it would be like paintball or something. Yeah, just like paintball...

Taking a deep breath, Church prepared to make a decision that would alter the course of his life. "Alright, I'm in."

At one point, these details all came out of nowhere in this story. But thanks to the final revision, there have been many hints about all of this stuff along the way. Hopefully it had all culminated in a satisfying revelation.