CHAPTER 2: FIRST STRUGGLE

"Do you think it's wise, to send her?" questioned Agent Domino to her superior.

Standing off to the side in Giovanni's office, half hidden in shadow, she gazed at the leader in question. Her face had little emotion displayed upon it, though it seemed her eyes shown with…concern? But no, that couldn't be the case. She'd never felt a thing, save contempt, for Cassandra. The woman's relationship with Giovanni had always irritated her to the point of bitterness…. Jealousy even. After all, Domino was Giovanni's top agent…and no one should be closer to him than she should, in her opinion.

Not that she felt anything but loyalty and respect for him. Contrary to the rumors circulating around Agent 009 and the Team Rocket head, their relationship was strictly…military. The teenager had never felt anything alike to a romantic feeling for him. For one thing, he could be her father, with his age. The very idea was rather unappealing. And for another thing, Giovanni wasn't the type of man one could love. Though a mastermind, he was sadistic and had the heart the size of a pea. It was power, and money, which drove him. Those two things were likely the only thing he could truly harbor affections for.

She understood why this was, for the most part. She was one of the few that had access to those facts. His mother had abused and neglected him throughout most of his life, and his father…well; the man might as well have been a ghost. Inevitably, it had screwed him up (in a way), and his only present parent's nature had passed on to him…. The only time Giovanni seemed to show something that resembled humanity was when he'd been in college. He'd even had a few close friends, as difficult as it was to believe.…

Anyway, all that was beside the point. Cassandra was the topic she inquired upon. Her mission, to kill Mewtwo. Agent 009 didn't know if such a thing was a good idea at all.…

"It couldn't be helped. Besides, Agent Winters has never failed a mission. And she will not fail this one either." Giovanni responded, taking a sip of white wine. The perfect glass chalice in his hand gleamed, even though the room was lit only with a dull light.

"But…" Domino began to argue, not having those same thoughts in mind.

His dark eyes darted towards her then, "Have faith dear girl. Mewtwo, while made to be an invincible creature, has its weaknesses…," he trailed off.

He gazed at the large flat screen in front of them, watching the red dot that symbolized Agent Winters whereabouts as she flew in the city Mewtwo lived. The device around her neck had a number of uses…one of the most useful in tracking her. He watched as she darted through the map of squares and rectangles, the many buildings and more. And as she stopped in the clone's area, he smiled a small, satisfied grin….

The clone of Mew gazed upon the city that surrounded him in silence. He observed the small flicker of movement upon the metal and glasses surfaces of the skyscrapers, reflections of various people and pokémon. The multiple vehicles driving upon the streets far below, like giant beetles, snorted and gave short bursts of speed occasionally; seeming to eat up and spew out humans like poisoned food. He found the idea somewhat amusing. Indeed, humans, with their destruction and consuming attributes, seemed to be a plague, tainting the world around them…obliterating as much as they created….

This vast city that he'd chosen to dwell within was the world they'd made for themselves. When humans were discontent with what nature offered, they adapted, and created a place of their own. Tens of thousands lived here, swarming in and out of buildings like insects, ants, from how he viewed them so far above. He wondered if that's how their imaginary god saw them…as bugs that turned His world foul. But in their power, Mewtwo supposed, He also feared them…they, His own prized creation.

And Mewtwo was theirs'. Perhaps that was why he'd chosen this place to live. As much as he disliked being in the exact opposite of a remote region, this seemed a fitting place for him. The product of their science, of the intelligence that had made them the ultimate species on this world, living in the realm they'd made….

…Or…maybe that was not the case. Perhaps the real reason he stayed was not so simple. Was it because the void within him of…loneliness…seemed smaller here? The ache that had gripped him, even in the presence of his fellow clones, seemed to be somewhat soothed? He gave a small, almost unnoticeable wry smile at that thought, knowing that emotion would never cease to pain him, wherever he went. It was as inevitable as the fact that all living die.…

"Espeon!"

A cry from below made Mewtwo look down to the rooftop. At first, his sharp eyes only saw the many potted plants scattered around the area. His ears though quickly pinpointed where the sound had come from. A small, lavender feline; the reason for a variety of the flowers, and one whom he'd come to know well in the past few months; gazed up at him impatiently. A part of him felt vaguely annoyed at her interruption into his thoughts, and even more so at her commanding tone.

"Espe!" she called again, "Mewtwo!"

Closing his eyes for a moment, then reopening them, he jumped down from his perch, looking at the creature in irritation. She gave no signs of shrinking away from his menacing appearance, her chubby body relaxed. Her forked tail and large ears, the inner part black, twitched as he landed, her lavender fur darkening as his shadow fell across her. And what somewhat astounded, but annoyed him now, was the lack of fear in her eyes.

She seemed to be making a routine of this… Whenever he remotely began to muse various thoughts to himself, she would impolitely drag him from them. Perhaps she found it entertaining…though, her violet eyes never shown with mirth afterwards. Still, if it was possible for such a pokémon to smirk, he believed she would be doing so now.

"What is it Psyche?" he asked irritably.

"Espeon. Es-es?" the Espeon ignored his tone.

His eyes narrowed. "Of course not…but in a city of this population, people are bound to sight me whether I desire or not. To curl up and hide would be a pointless gesture."

"Es…." She stated, looking up at him. "True…."

He walked closer to her, "Now I take it that wasn't the only reason you wished me to come down?"

"Es…es…." She blanched. "Erm…uhh…."

"…You are worse than a child," Mewtwo commented after a few moments. "Seeking attention whenever you're bored…at least they have an excuse. At that young age, they know no better. You however…."

"Espeon?" She hissed at him, bristling. "Are you calling me old?"

"Not at all… You simply aren't a kitten anymore, are you?" he stated, the question rhetorical. He gazed down at her swollen stomach, making his point more evident.

The creature flushed a bit at that, looking as well. She winced slightly at the small jab of pain that came suddenly. And yet, she also delighted in it. For it was proof of what awaited her very soon…. Still, with a sharp "meow", the large eared feline pounced at him, with the intention of giving him a few scratches, despite her condition. However, she never got the chance. Mewtwo caught her midair, holding her telekinetically. She slackened for a second, before struggling to make him release her. Mewtwo watched her pitiful attempts, a tiny bit amused. She would never learn….

"You won't win Psyche. Do stop before I have to force you." He said seriously, thinking of how her physical and psychical "thrashings" might jolt the kits. If they were accidentally harmed in any way….

She gave up quickly enough with his words in mind. Still, she hung there with an angry expression on her face, her almond eyes glaring. The clone silently brought her closer to him, cradling her in his arms gently, and let his psychic hold on her go. She didn't bother to try to attack him then…the little 'fight' was over. Psyche curled up comfortably, enjoying the soft strokes to her head and back, which Mewtwo was hardly aware he was giving her.

Not that he would have much cared, in the event that he did notice. This procedure had become common in the past few months. Without much jarring, as not to disturb the very pregnant cat that was now resting lightly in his arms, he sat down on the cement, leaning back against the cold wall behind him. The room on the other side served only the purpose of housing the stairway, which led into the building he'd made his residence.

The construction was, basically, a several story warehouse with a penthouse at the very top (for the owners of the company). However, the structural plans had been ill thought out, and very soon, weak ceilings and foundations had become an issue. This, as a direct result, abruptly forced the business to move elsewhere because of the danger risks. The abandoned shipping building then, for the most part, had been left alone. No one thought of buying the lot and starting something new, and so it was never destroyed.

And whenever someone approached it recently, usually teenagers looking to steal some of the remaining items, the strange things that happened in their presence had a tendency to scare them off. These 'mysterious circumstances' had led many to believe the place to be violently haunted, even though actual injury had always been at a minimal. All the same though, no trainer would come near anymore, to attempt to catch a supposed ghost pokémon that was said to live there.

In truth, the only occupants of the place were a super-clone pokémon whom hated to be disturbed, and his sole companion, an Espeon with no trainer. There were also wild pokémon in the lower floors, which kept the two relatively alone. They all were more-or-less responsible for the unfriendly supernatural acts, not specters as most believed. Of course, that latter fact wasn't known…so rumors instead spread, keeping humans away far better than any shield.

And this suited Mewtwo just fine. He enjoyed the solitude given to him, the peace it brought. When he'd come here only a scarce time after he'd left Mt. Quena, finding this place had been a stroke of good fortune in his otherwise afflicted life. After fixing the issues in the building's design in secret, it had become quite a comfortable place for him to reside. As Psyche stirred in his arms, purring softly, his hawk like eyes gazed down at her, reminded of how she'd come to be in his company. He shook his head minutely, amused by the memories now. No matter…he was stuck with her at any rate. That fact was not likely to be altered anytime soon.

Looking at her, he mused her presence was not such a horrible thing. While she could have a horrible temper, like that of a teenager's, she could also be quite an interesting person to have around. She was mischievous, energetic, and sometimes quite thoughtful…. And even though he would not admit it aloud, she'd become quite dear to him.

He gently scratched the Espeon behind her ears and the small tuffs of fur underneath them. For a brief moment, the red jewel on her forehead, a perfect circle of ruby, glittered, reflecting the feeling of enjoyment she received from that. After a time though, she opened her eyes, as though detecting something Mewtwo did not. Perhaps she smelled a Murkrow…she'd become quite fond of chasing them around….

If he'd asked, she would have told him that wasn't the case….

Something else, much worse than a crow, was coming.

Cassandra crouched on one of the many roofs in the city around her, gazing at a point a scarce few hundred feet away. Folding her wings, she watched contemplatively from her perch, the glow from the neon lights and the moon above not touching her. For now, watching, like a panther in the bush, was enough for her.

As she spotted the odd figure, sitting on a roof with another feline in his arms, she silently checked her knives, making sure they could be flicked out at a moment's notice. It hadn't taken her as long as she'd believed it would, to find him. She supposed then that she wouldn't need all the clothes she'd packed. She'd thought he'd keep himself hidden better, that it would take her a good week to track him down. At times, she'd had to infiltrate certain buildings on other missions to get close to her target. To memorize the layout of their homes so there would no escape for them when she struck.

But no, she'd found Mewtwo in but a few hours…this would go far quicker than she'd thought!

He had a powerful psychic signature, though he seemed to have a tendency to keep it well concealed. Had she not known what she was looking for, she might have missed him completely. Apparently, he didn't want to be found…not that she could blame him for that, considering her very reason for coming was to terminate him. Though, he wasn't aware of her presence yet…and she intended to keep it that until she attacked.

But that would not be now. She had no intention of making a loud ruckus and drawing attention to the area. Her eyes quickly scanned the structure, looking for a way in where she'd be undetected. Then, her gaze catching on something, she slid off the ledge where she stooped, allowing herself to fall into the alleyway below. Only a scarce ten feet from the ground, she opened her wings, bracing herself for the resistance, and caught a pillow of air. It slowed her down drastically, allowing her to land in silence. Her legs bent under the impact, but it was something she was well used to.

She stood up then, walking over to the edge of the street. Waiting for the cars to pass, so she could cross without being seen, she stepped out as the last one drove by. Her stride, quick and purposeful, got her into the next alley before the light turned green. Gazing up at the building where Mewtwo resided, she sighed, knowing it was going to be a long way up. Hopefully, she wouldn't be detected before she was ready.

"What the hell…?" a loud voice questioned behind her.

Cassandra spun, seeing a group of young men standing at the alleyway entrance, staring at her, mouths gaping. She mentally cursed, thinking of the clone above. He could probably hear any loud shouts, even from way up there. She certainly did not need that type of attention!

"Halloween isn't for another few weeks, chick," said one of the men suddenly, approaching her.

She reassessed the group, not liking the way they were gazing at her, their bearings back. The shock of seeing the angelic woman, whom they thought to be dressed up to match, had worn off. Cassandra's expression hardened as she saw the way their eyes were beginning to probe her, almost greedily. They all, in almost complete unison, began to edge towards her.

What did they plan to do? Mug her, and rough her up a bit?

"I don't have time for this…," she hissed, more stating a fact then talking to them.

The young woman moved suddenly with an unexpected agility, slugging the man closest to her, and then high kicking the couple of friends that came to his aid to the ground. Another came near her, flicking out a small knife. She kicked it out of his hands, kneeing his groin, and swiftly struck him in the head as he fell. The last two began to run, abandoning their friends, muttering something about calling the cops. Now that she couldn't have. She flew at them quickly, landing in front of them and slammed their heads together, knocking them out of well. Satisfied they wouldn't be up for another few hours, she quickly gazed up at the sky, expecting to see a feline figure coming down to investigate.

Nothing. The fight hadn't been noticed.

Giving one last look at the unconscious figures, she turned towards the boarded up side entrance, and delivered another forceful high kick. There was a distinct sound of crashing as they broke, leaving a hole large enough to walk through. She blinked at the dust, figuring the place hadn't been occupied for quite some time. Though, as she entered, red eyes followed her, watching her cautiously. She half expected them to attack her at some point, but they left her alone as she strode up the staircase to the upper floors. Almost to the top, they gradually disappeared, murmuring not a cry. Perhaps it was the way she'd beat up the guys below, or the aura of deadly confidence when concerning her abilities that surrounded her. Either way, they left her be.

As she entered the top floor, she stared solemnly, taking it in. Unlike the crowded clutter in the floors below, pokémon and boxes so multiple, the large room was rather scarce. The moonlight that drifted through the windows by the ceiling far above showed a few bits of furniture, as well as a large, flat screen TV to one wall. To her left was another, holding shelves filled with various books, stretching up to a height where one would need a ladder to look at some. Across from where she stood, she could see the entrances to other rooms, and a small kitchen. And on the last wall was an opening that showed a staircase to the roof, short in length.

Knowing detection was only a matter of time; she memorized the layout quickly, and crossed over the gym-sized room to the doors. Her boots made little sound on the wood floor. To the far right was an almost completely empty bedroom. The one to its left was the bathroom, useless to her. Next to that was a far more colorful, and messy room, one in which she couldn't imagine to be Mewtwo's from what she'd read about his personality. So, the last one had to be….

His. Spacey and bare, and of a dark grey color, it seemed incredibly cold. There was a hammock set up, extending from one wall to near the center of the room. It wasn't particularly big, but it didn't seem likely to fall either. Near that was a stone nightstand, holding a few candles, which she presumed to be scented. And there was a book as well…. Closing the door behind her as it had been, knowing all she had to do was wait now for him to return, she crossed over to the table. Unable to read the title in the dim light, she picked it up, holding it closer to her eyes….

The sound of padded footsteps outside made her place the book back quickly, in the same position it'd been in. She whipped out her blades, clutching them firmly, and retreated into the dark shadows of the room….

Mewtwo set Psyche down in the pillows of her bed, having calmed her alarm quickly enough. Now napping lightly, on her side, for her enlarged stomach gave her little other choice, she seemed content. Still, something was bothering her he knew. Perhaps she would explain later….

The clone considered going back outside, to return to his musing, but recalling the chill in the early autumn air, thought better of it. He would go to his own room, and try to sleep some. Considering his insomnia of late, it would likely be good for him. Sighing, he kept the door open a bit behind him, knowing Psyche couldn't reach the doorknob to get out if she wished. And it wouldn't do, to anger her when she awoke from her quiet resting. Outside her room, he stood for a moment, gazing out at what had become his home.

However, his eyes soon narrowed at bit, and odd feeling draping over him. Something seemed…wrong. Out of place. But spying around, he could see nothing different. Dismissing it as a figment of his tired mind, he walked the small distance to the door to his room, entering and closing the door behind him. As his sharp eyes gazed around, he vaguely noticed that a cluster of shadows seemed far darker than the others, but again dismissed his thoughts.

Settling down in the comforts of his bed, he closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet for a moment. And yet, the sounds of the city penetrated it. He could hear people walking along the streets, engines of cars revving, sirens wailing in the distance…and close, quiet breathing? A small movement, a whisper of moving air, caught his attention after a few minutes. He opened his eyes slowly….

Psyche…?

The shadow above him was no pokémon though. His eyes widened as a glint of metal caught his eyes, darting down towards his neck. He quickly rolled off the bed, just managing to escape the knife that was now cutting a deep hole into the fabric that had been beneath him. The feline stood quickly, bracing himself, his mind trying to compute this sudden occurrence. Deep, dire surprise though made that difficult, jerking his stomach unpleasantly. He gazed at the figure one the other side of his swinging bed, feeling a sharp bolt of shock go through him. How…why…wings?

Cassandra used his confusion to her advantage, jumping over the bed quickly and thrusting at him with a knife. Mewtwo leaned back, the blade just missing his neck, only to have to dodge another calculated stab a half a second later. These slashing motions continued a number of times, only to be dodged by the backing away clone. In an attempt to find an opening, the assassin fleetly flew over his head, landing behind him, and spun, hoping to inflict a harsh, bloody gash in his back. However, Mewtwo was fast as well, turning around to meet her, and leapt away just in time to miss being perhaps fatally injured. But in his haste, he miscalculated where the nightstand was, and tripped over it clumsily. The book and candles upon in scattered around him with dull thuds. Seeing the opportunity, the young woman fell towards him, knives at ready.

Mewtwo got his bearings back quickly however, and managed to move with a balance and speed completely inhuman, and unexpected. In squatting position, he fired himself at her, managing to catch her around the waist, the momentum of this tackle making them crash into the door. It banged open loudly; and roughly, they fell into the larger room of the house. The two fleetly broke apart, and stood facing each other, several feet of distance between them. Hearts pounding, emotions racing despite attempts at self-control, neither knew what best to do under the circumstances. Who would attack first, resetting the fighting match they'd started?

But Mewtwo, it appeared, did not wish to continue this at all, "Stop this! I don't wan-"

Cassandra charged at him before he got a chance to finish. Crouching down to attempt to slash Mewtwo across the stomach, she perhaps hoped to manage to go deep enough to hit an artery. But Mewtwo leap back a few inches, making her miss, and exchanged a variety of blows with her as she stood, even though she still held her blades firmly. He soon crouched down in a similar fashion as she, spinning around fully, tail and leg extended to try to knock her over. Getting out of the way, Cassandra quickly jumped, adding a wing-beat to increase her height, because of the extra limb trying to trip her. The clone joined her in the air, grabbing her ankle and spinning her about, releasing her with the intent on making her crash.

"Have it your way…," he murmured. Seeing little other option, in hope of knocking her out quickly, he swiftly created a psychic ball of energy, its black depths flickering, and shot it at her.

It hit her in the stomach, sending her back into the wall with enough force to crush it. On impact, smoke rose up from the collision, hiding her from view for a moment. There was a distinct shush sound, and then, a whistling. A glint of silver suddenly broke from the dark depths of the cloud, shooting at him. Mewtwo only just manage to lean out of the path of the flying knife a quick second, even with his incredible speed…and much to his astonishment, the weapon still managed to cut him across the shoulder…dangerously near his neck.

Cassandra, apparently, had proven she wasn't an ordinary human in the least. Midair, being thrust away from him, she'd done a graceful flip a split second before impact, freeing herself from the psychic attack, and had opened her wings to steady herself. The ball had collided then, hiding what she'd done and herself completely from view. As she landed feet first, skidding backwards on the floor before stopping herself, she'd seen the one immediate option given to her. Quickly, she'd arched her right arm back, and shot the knife in her hand forward at him, guessing his position through the dust, with the intent to spear him with the accuracy she'd practiced for years to achieve.

Presently, as Mewtwo heard the sound of metal and stone colliding, in a sharp sweet note, he figured that blade at least would no longer be a problem. Unless of course the woman managed to retrieve it. Still, as he smelled a wisp of a metallic scent, his eyes darted to the cut he'd been dealt. It was beginning to bleed…the young woman had managed to draw blood. His already fierce eyes narrowed, anger beginning to well up in his chest. She'd managed to actually hurt him…that was unacceptable!

As Cassandra appeared through the smoke, he flew at her swiftly; prepared to do her some previously avoided harm. His only goal had been to make her faint, not to kill her. But now, a little damage seemed necessary…though this decision did not come from fury. However, his eyes caught on to a small movement coming from near the bedrooms. In the semi-shouts and crashing sounds of the fight, Psyche had unavoidably awoken. She now stood, staring wide-eyed at what was going on, as stiff as a marble statue. Mewtwo's eyes widened with alarm, an order to leave at the tip of his telepathic tongue.

But that warning never came out, for in his second of distraction Cassandra struck, using that chance. She didn't stab him however, but delivered a rather vicious blow anyways with a swift kick in the stomach. Mewtwo partially crumpled at this, and she continued her assault, giving him an uppercut him hard in the face. Beginning to fall backwards, she took him by the shoulders, kneeing him forcefully in the ribs, turning to elbow him in the neck. As she released him, he fell the rest of the way, slamming into the ground painfully. She flew down at him, striking him in the gut, before letting up and landing.

For a brief second he gazed up at her, far more stunned than in pain. After all, his body could take far more than this before giving out. As a creature of muscle and bone for the most part, that was inevitable. He'd been created as such, a fighting machine. As his body turned to the side, his tail leaving no other choice, he heard her step towards him.

Then, he felt a hand, human, grasp his injured, bleeding shoulder, turning him over to face his attacker. He inwardly hissed at the sting. A knife in her other hand, poised to strike, he managed to catch on to her thoughts for a brief second. She was wondering why this had been so easy, to kill him. After all, he was supposed to have almost god like powers. He should be able to kill her with one mere blow, one thought if he wished, correct? Oh yes, he mused, that was true. It wouldn't take much to crush her like an insect, destroy her without even using all that much energy. He could have done it already if he'd desired. And yet he hadn't…why?

The knife fell towards him, glinting silver like her eyes….

"Espe!"

Very suddenly, Cassandra was pushed away by an invisible force, a bubble of a shield being raised around the clone. Mewtwo sat up, ignoring the pain he felt while doing so. Psyche stood there, beside him, hissing furiously at the young woman, all her power going into the defensive barrier around them. They watched as the dark angel stood from where she'd been knocked down, looking at the fat feline angrily. The Espeon bristled, only relaxing slightly as Mewtwo placed a paw upon her back.

"You need not have done that," he whispered quietly to her. "This isn't your battle, Psyche. It's not only dangerous for you, but your offspring as well, if you get involved."

"Espeon." Psyche gave him a look. "Friends helps their companions. Besides, you're getting your ass royally whooped."

Mewtwo remained silent, a comeback coming to mind, but didn't answer because of the approaching winged human. He quickly teleported a protesting Psyche away, into her room, shutting her in quickly. The shield shattered shrilly as Cassandra thrust her blade at it, the remnants of energy sending sparks. The clone was ready however. He jumped at her, grabbing her wrist hard, digging a finger into her pressure point. She gave a small cry at that. While the woman had been trained against releasing her weapons, the pain and forcefulness of this one action made her do so. With a clatter her other blade hit the floor, leaving her virtually weaponless. But she had physical strength in her body, as she'd proved before. She would use it again.

As the feline lifted her by a wrist, her feet off the ground; she twisted in his grip, launching his feet into him. He instinctively dropped her; then spied her glance at her knives. Mewtwo hurriedly teleported them away, to an area unknown to her. Fully accepting the fact that this fight had become physical, the Team Rocket agent jumped at him, fists ready. She managed to get in one good punch before Mewtwo grabbed her wrists, holding her firm for the moment. He proceeded to quickly knee her in the stomach, head butting her forehead before she'd fallen back. Then, he spun around, catching her in the side with his tail once more, watching solemnly as she crashed into the floor. As she rose halfway from the lying position, he saw her fingers curl, her breathing coming harder…she spat blood….

But persistently, never minding the pain, she stood again. Mewtwo almost felt sickened by this, finding it unbelievable and repulsive how she still desired to fight. He had become something of a pacifist in the recent couple of years, and to injure a person like this went against his currents morals. He only fought when the circumstances insisted. And while this certainly qualified, he wished she'd just give up, surrender. If the will gave into the body's desires for once, he'd be glad….

As she came at him again, they began to spar in an array of blows. Punches, kicks, chops, blocked and otherwise, coming in a quick and flowing pace. It grew gradually apparent however that the clone would likely be the victor. Despite her training and creative abilities, Cassandra was losing. Her mind scarcely tracked him as he teleported, some of her irregular abilities beginning to awaken, but far too late. She felt him strike the tendons of her wings; pull upon some of her feathers. Scattering like dark snow, the down began to come out as well. Little droplets of blood came from both of them, like red drizzle. A demonic angel, slowly being worn away by an angelic demon. The irony was almost humorous….

Cassandra had never been one to give up though. Even if it killed her, she intended to win this fight. To complete the mission that had been given to her. Digging into the reservoirs of strength inside, she let go of thoughts, emotions. They all threatened her in this task. If she was a machine, incapable of feeling fatigue or pain, she could still triumph. It was what Giovanni had made her into over the years, despite the obstacles in the way. Her past agonies had only helped make her into something bloody, dark, a killing shadow. His weapon….

The angel quickly struck out at Mewtwo, ignoring the fact that she was being hit more than he. Just one precise, deadly blow, could kill. All she had to do was make one, and then perhaps, she'd give into the exhaustion that was taking her. She soon distinctly heard a faint, cracking sound as he punched her in the ribs, at the same time she twisted his other arm harshly, trying to dislocate it. However, that didn't work. She continued though, intent on damaging him in some lethal way.

Mewtwo realized, as things became direr, what the woman was doing. Determined to win, she'd rather die than give in. Slowly, the girl was allowing herself to be killed, making this into a suicide run. …Had this not been expected?

Much to his alarm, she managed to get behind him, reaching up, and grasping…his second neck. Her other arm quickly went around his neck, in a headlock, her wings beating to keep her in place even as he struggled against her. Naturally, after a few seconds, he began to feel faint, dizzy, in her hold….

The neck she now held so tightly helped to support his head; and gave extra oxygen and blood to his brain. If it was severed, or damaged in any way, paralysis, a psychic disability, or death was eminent. It had been an apparent mutation, a replacement for the scruff of his neck. Useful in itself, it helped in the task that his first neck alone, too small, could not do on its own. While he didn't think she had the strength to tear it, to give a harsh twist would be far more destructive than her likely half-working mind was aware!

He quickly teleported out of her grasp, enjoying sweet release, and appeared behind her. This fight, in his mind, had gone on far long enough. It was time to end it, to cease toying. He swiftly struck the side of her neck hard, sensing her surprise and agony…and the feeling of failure that wafted off her. Then, she slipped into unconsciousness, a small moan of pain escaping her lips. As she fell, Mewtwo quickly caught her in his arms, and held her surprisingly gently, close. Sighing, gazing at her face for a moment, he shook his head at the thought of something, and crossed over somewhat weakly to Psyche's room. He could hear her insistent, worried, angry mewing, the sound of her claws unsheathed and scratching upon the inside of the door.

The clone opened the door telekinetically, his arms full. The Espeon ran out of the room as quick as her legs could carry her, even under the weight of the unborn children inside. Gazing up at Mewtwo, tired, injured, but otherwise fine, her muscles released their tension, her form sagging slightly with relief. He'd won…he was safe. Her eyes narrowed at the limp form of the woman in his arms however, but nonetheless cocked her head curiously, creating quite a comical expression.

"Espe?" she asked dubiously. "You're keeping her alive?"

Mewtwo nodded. "Indeed. There is no reason to extinguish her life, especially when there are questions that need to be asked of her. And she is in no condition anymore to cause real damage."

"Espeon?" Psyche seemed to accept that as an answer, though still inquired upon something. "So, what are you going to do with her now?"

Mewtwo answered her question in monotone. "First, she'll need to be firmly restrained. A repeat of this is not desirable in the least. And then…."

"'Espe'?" Psyche urged him on, trailing behind him as he began to head towards the couch, a rope and chair coming out of various spots at his will, "'And then'…?" she echoed.

He glanced down at her, almost seemingly amused at her words, even under the circumstances, "And then we will have to find out why she tried to end my life. Is that not obvious?"

Psyche felt a bit irritated at his words, but said nothing. She watched in silence as he set the woman carefully on the couch, seeing him look at her oddly before his eyes hardened, back to their usual icy coldness. Still, it bothered the Espeon, that split second in which he didn't gaze at the woman in contempt. She had tired to kill him after all…could it be possible he felt compassion for her? But no...that was impossible. A trick of the dim light perhaps.

Mewtwo himself gazed at the woman with fierce eyes for a moment, trying to ignore something in the back of his mind. Brought back to the present by Psyche's movement, he scanned the angel, taking everything in. The wings had to go first…for how could he tie her up when they got in the way? There was also the fact that she could flee, escape, if the chance ever arose. But to physically remove them seemed far too harsh. He wordlessly gazed at the collar she wore, taking note of its strange energy signature. He put a paw to it, fiddling. There was a small click as he found the dial and turned it, retracting his paw quickly as it worked. Watching in satisfaction as her wings disappeared in a flash of dark light, he tried to avoid Psyche's stare….

"Espeon?" she questioned loudly anyhow. "Huh…how did you know…?"

"Molecular disrupters are rare devices, but have a distinct bioelectric energy signature. This one could be improved truth be told, but is still quite ingenious in design. I suspect it took a small fortune to make," he explained.

"Espeo?" Psyche didn't fully grasp what he'd just said. "'Molecular' what?"

He gave her a bored look, and picked up the woman again, beginning to tie her to a chair in a tight and firm manner. "Molecular disrupters are exactly what the name implies. It scrambles the cells of her wings and compresses them, storing them inside the small pocket here, in this 'gem.' Once the dial is turned, they rearrange themselves and become a part of her again."

"This device is obviously essential to her… Without it, her wings would bring her unwanted attention. And to her superior as well," he stated, tightening the tie around the girl's wrists.

"Es…espe?" Psyche said as she absorbed that information. "Oh…so couldn't see just throw away her wings then, if she got rid of that thing?"

Mewtwo shook his head, "No. Body heat is essential for this type of device to work, as it's a type of energy. A battery or microchip would be too easily damaged, and this couldn't last long on any other accessible energy. If she were to take this off, it would lose its power and use. So, her wings would come back, whether she'd like them to or not."

She watched as Mewtwo's eyes glowed, and smelled the distinct scent of burnt plastic, a small wisp of smoke and a spark coming from the device. Was he…wrecking it? But no, he explained again, he was only making it so it could no longer be turned "off." So, unless the angel managed to get a knife and tear it away, thoroughly damaging it, or the clone fixed it himself, the woman would be stuck wingless. And both of those things seemed unlikely in the near future….

A handful of hours would pass before anything else occurred that night….

Cassandra awoke groggily, her form aching. It seemed as though she'd gone through a torturous labyrinth, each wrong move she made giving her a horrible blow. As the images from the fight played through her mind, she mentally groaned. Then, silently, she swore colorfully at the fact she'd been knocked out. Vaguely, she wondered how much time had passed since the struggle…and why Mewtwo, in her unconsciousness, had not killed her.

Knowing it best not to let it be known that she was awake yet, she minutely twitched her wrists and ankles; checking to make sure everything was in order. To her immense irritation, she found that her wings were gone. How had he known about her collar? Had he gone through her head? But no, she had made defenses against that sort of thing long ago….

And, further annoying her, she found herself to be bound to…a chair. Her mind dully thought how unoriginal that was. She was in the presence of someone with an IQ over that of a super-genius, and yet he couldn't think of anything more creative than that. Still, she cursed him for binding her.

Damn his soul to the depths of hell….

She couldn't really recall the last time this had happened, at least not clearly. While she'd been trained to know how to handle being captured, her actual experience with it was minimal. It was a mark of how good she was at her job. But the fact was that her target hadn't been a frail human being. No, her prey was a super-clone pokémon with almost legendary-level powers. The thought was almost enough to make her smirk a bit. When she beat him, she could rest assured that no one could ever defeat her, make her submit….

"I know you're awake. Your psychic traits, as useful as they might be to you, aren't strong enough to hide that from me." A deep, masculine voice entered her mind then, seeming both annoyed and amused.

How does he know…?

The answer was rather obvious. Being a psychic, he could sense it on her, as much as she tried to conceal it. A part of her wished her skills were sharper, but it wouldn't have truly mattered if they were. After all, outside of defensive uses, she had very few other psychical abilities. The strength she'd gained from regular training made up for that well enough.

Realizing that little advantage was gone, Cassandra opened her eyes, fixing a glare on the clone. There went the thought of taking him by surprise, breaking from her bonds and…. Well, she was stuck, so that wouldn't work. At any rate, her target was sitting in a chair across from hers, paws on his knees.

The teenager had to note that the pictures in his file didn't do him much justice. They'd been purely for study, observing how his body worked. His weak points and strengths. And during the fight, in such dim light, she hadn't gotten a very good look at him. In truth, he was actually quite a handsome creature, a work of art perhaps. Scanning him up and down, she observed the mix of humanoid and feline features.

His thick legs, like the back limbs of a cat, balanced upon two toed feet, a spherical ball upon where the ankles were. A thick, deep violet tail, ending in a mound, smoothly melded with the area below his waist, the color ending at his midriff. For the most part, his torso and above looked almost human, save that over his chest and upper back was an armor like plate, made to give extra protection to his large heart and lungs. This feature, as it went over his shoulders (one of which, to her satisfaction, had been bandaged from the earlier fight), gave his thin but muscular arms the appearance of having been inserted in the sockets post-birth. Like a Lego or Bionicle figure that many children seemed to enjoy playing with. He had a thin neck, the jugular veins pronounced, that kept his head attached, as well as a second neck that extended from between his shoulder blades to the back of his skull.

His head also held a number of features she took note of. The ears on top, looking alike to horns, and the small but sleek muzzle he had, housing both his nose and mouth. His brows were rather pronounced also. But his eyes…they stuck her as the most interesting feature. Pure amethyst, exotically shaped and fierce. Like a hawk's, boring into hers….

Seeing the way she was observing him, Mewtwo's eyes narrowed, "Come to gawk at me have you? Kill me, then observe? That doesn't seem terribly wise."

Cassandra remained silent, though his words visibly aggravated her. She knew perfectly well how to do her work…. She shifted in her chair, wondering if any of her concealed weapons were still on her.

"Don't bother, human. I removed them a good while ago. They, as well as your original blades have been well hidden," Mewtwo told her honestly.

Agent Winters stiffened at that. While a majority of those weapons had been located in the cuffs of her sleeves, there had been one snug comfortably in a far more private area of her shirt. To think that this creature had removed that as well, meant that he would have had to touch her….

"You perverted, son of a-" she began to shout.

Very suddenly the clone stood, placing a finger on her lips to stop her from making such an insult, "Considering that you likely know of my origins already, you should understand that that phrase doesn't apply to me. If you insist on attempting to anger me, at the very least get creative in your insults."

By god, he seemed amused.

Infuriated by this, Cassandra quickly snapped at his tri-fingered paw, hoping to give him something to curse about. Unfortunately, the clone was too fast, swiping his hand away before she had a chance to sink her teeth into him. He vaguely mused whether this girl was an avian or a viper. All things considered, she was probably both.

"Don't you dare touch me, you bastard freak," she hissed at him, further making her snake-like attributes seem more fitting.

Now those last few words had the potential to sting. However, Mewtwo found he couldn't take offense, as they were true, "Likewise." He responded nonetheless.

Cassandra was quick to retort to that, "Shut it."

Mewtwo leaned over her, paws gripping the edges of the chair behind her shoulders. Cassandra gave him an equally intense glare, not backing down. A six foot seven, two hundred and sixty nine pound creature above her, and she didn't even shrink away. Hell, she'd been in far worse situations before. A LOT worse. This unnatural kitty was certainly not going to succeed in frightening her.

Mewtwo's voice displayed anger this time as he spoke, "I do not take orders from humans…you had best keep that in mind."

Cassandra remained silent, twisting the ropes that tied her wrists together. Damn, she needed a piece of glass, a sliver of wood, anything sharp. She had to get out of this goddamned chair! As frustration began to mount in her as the seconds past, the young woman shortly tuned out Mewtwo's deep voice, concentrating instead on escape. If she could just get away, she could retreat to a safe distance and think things through again at a different angle. Surprise of course, would no longer give her the advantage. However, she could get her bearings back and make a more affective plan. And most importantly, she could heal….

"…Answer my question. Who is it that wants you to kill me?" the clone's voice came back.

How do you know I just don't want to kick your purple furry ass? she wondered sarcastically, but instead sniped, "Oh right, and I would tell you that why exactly?"

Seeing his growing aggravation, Cassandra twisted her wrists again. It seemed the clone knew how to tie a knot rather well. It wasn't a type she knew how to undo….

Without warning, Mewtwo's paw flashed towards her from where he stood, almost touching her forehead. The lightning fast movement was enough to break her from her thoughts for a moment. She stop squirming, wondering what he planned to do. Was he going to put her through interrogation? Well, she could deal with torture…she knew that from experience. She looked up at him almost calmly, thinking for him to do his worst.

Mewtwo, in that second, intended to deliver a rather nasty psychic shock to her system; his pacifistic self having withdrawn. To make ever fiber of her being, ever cell, flare with pain, would be a good motivator. However, that thought sourly reminded him of what Giovanni himself had once done to him. So, to do so would mean to be alike to that demon of a man…and that made the clone's stomach turn over in revulsion, disgust. And to add to that, several other elusive facts swirled about inside him, rebelling against the idea.… He slightly retracted his paw, hesitant….

No…he could not go that far.

"Psyche," he called his companion over, hoping she would accept his proposal. Damn his petty morals and weaknesses to oblivion….

"Espe?" she questioned.

"Bring Buzz here and interrogate this human. …I don't care how you get the information! Just find out what you can about her," he ordered, his voice harsh, before he paused. "…Will you be all right doing this?" he asked after a moment of second thought, glancing down at the feline's round stomach.

"Espe," she replied, inwardly disapproving of how he wished to do further harm to this woman. Then again, she'd tried to kill him…. "I'll be fine."

Mewtwo, ignoring the shocked emotions he was picking up from his friend and captive, for not going through with such inquiries himself, left the room, leaving the Espeon to do his work. As soon as he entered his own room, shutting the door behind him, he sighed, placing his face in a paw. He re-erected his table psychically, the items that had once been on it floating back to where they'd been before.

Knowing every inch of the room, he waved his free paw to the few candles, lighting them with a thought. They shown dimly, dancing peacefully, happily, unlike his own emotions. Their scents, various, combined to form a soothing aroma alike to that of a breeze, one that lingered in a place untouched by man, a pine forest so distant and eluding. A sea as well, the somewhat salty smell also present, attempted to wash away his own weariness from the night's occurrences, among one thing.

He settled down into his hammock then, his eyes still closed, covered with a paw. The stone bedside table that stood some few feet from it, held the single book upon it. Not knowing if it was even wise to do so, he brought it to him telekinetically, cracking it open at a certain page. Opening his eyes finally, he took out a small sheet of paper, of what appeared to be an old photograph. Too old, surely, to be something of his? Yet, dully, something flickered in his tired eyes, invoking only sadness.

Shaking his head mentally, he put it away, wondering why he hadn't rid himself of it long ago. He should have burned it…it was only poisoning him as the years past. Placing the book back in its place, he sighed, leaning back into the soft, comforting blankets and pillows of his bed.

As he heard electric shock begin to sound back where he came from, he guessed that Psyche had come back with her Elekid friend. The pregnant feline had surely opened a telepathic link between herself and woman, questioning her. He'd sensed that the angel would be able to understand, if only prodded correctly. Inwardly, he felt a twinge whenever the girl's self-control faded, and she moaned in pain. Still, he knew she'd remained silent.

She'd been trained that way.

The irony of it all made Mewtwo's feel ill, causing him to frown bitterly. This had come too unexpected, so completely unwelcome. His life, as fate constantly continued to remind him, was completely harsh and unfair. Perhaps it'd be better to slip away into the nothingness, into death's sweet embrace, to let her succeed in her task. Surely, it would be far kinder than this….

"Giovanni…you despicable viper," he whispered quietly to the man, even though he was too far away to hear, "I should have expected you to elude my powers like this, to overcome them in some way. But I would have never thought you'd go this low…is your sense of humor truly so twisted…?" he wondered aloud.

Then, hearing another moan of agony, he closed his eyes, wishing the world away….