A leviathan drifted through the void.

Ranging out far ahead of the vessel, sensory scans, in a spectrum beyond organic sight, probed the emptiness of space for debris. There was no set criteria for the scanner to adhere too, no defined list of which objects to register, and which to avoid; that wasn't part of its function, a feature that didn't exist in the programming-base. It was simply charged with identifying anything it found, and then passing the information on to a higher, more intelligent system. As per usual, there was nothing out of the ordinary, the usual, near constant shower of interstellar debris being drawn in by the planets gravitational field comprising most of the identified objects; micro-meteors of ice and dust that were of infinitesimal interest to the ship, too small to penetrate what remained of the protective ion-shell that encapsulated the vessel.

Occasionally the scanner would detect something a bit larger, something that might be capable of scratching the Ark's paint-work, though more often than not it simply turned out to be a piece of the ship itself, knocked loose during its millennia long orbit of the world below, or some lump of rock that was already making its fiery descent through the atmosphere. Privately, the low-function anima-spirit wished for something new to come along, something to break the monotony that resulted when one's existence was defined by the identification of minuscule rocks. Of course it could never transmit such a desire through the network; E.V.E. had no tolerance for aberrant systems, and were she to discover that something as easily replicable as scanner software was beginning to decay, or worse yet, malfunction, the A.S. would have no qualms with simply erasing and then reinstalling said program.

Returning from its nanosecond's worth of tangent computation, the scanner returned to its duties, pausing long enough to package up the required information requested from the local-hub for the millisecond update log. The data was sent without a hitch, though the familiar threat of corruption ran through the anima-spirit as the information ran into damaged circuitry, causing it to require a further five milliseconds of computation before it could devise the best alternate route to the local-hub. Briefly it pondered on how long it was going to be until the maintenance nanodroids arrived to patch up the damage.

It was a certainty that the circuitry and electro-pathways were beginning to reach a critical state of decay, so much so that it was beginning to affect the efficiency of the local operating network, which could have potentially devastating consequences for the Ark as a whole. Without constant and regular updates from the scanner systems, E.V.E. would be blind to the outside world, unable to peer even an inch beyond the vessel's hull, and without its scanners there would be nothing to stop the Ark from ploughing into every scrap of cosmic debris that littered the Void above HB-002. Were its fellow scanners facing similar issues, the anima-spirit wondered, were other systems across the God-Dreadnought having to deal with decaying electronic infrastructure?

Little did the minute system know that many of its brothers were long since dead.

Suddenly, there was a spike in the incoming data from the scanner stream, the anima-spirit's curiosity piquing as its personal server began to interpret the stream of numerical data as it poured in. It had detected something, that lonely little scanner, something that it had never encountered before; at least not within the last two thousand cycles since its last memory-wipe. Initial analysis revealed that the detected object was much larger than anything else it had previously picked up, easily a good five meters across. Realising that this was the first true piece of debris that represented a possible threat to the Ark, even if it was an intangible one, the scanner was prompt to forward the data to the local-hub for analysis by more competent, intelligent systems.

Barely had the first info-spike been translated before a second arrived, this time registering for an object that was a full seven meters across, seven! The anima-spirit felt something in its low-function personality squeal with glee; two thousand cycles of waiting for something interesting to happen, and now it had detected two items-of-interest within a single millisecond! Another package of information was forwarded to the hub, though its transmission was partially lagged by damaged circuitry. A third spike came in, then a fourth, both registering for objects that were nine meters across. Once again forwarding information, the anima-spirit realised, with a sudden, disturbingly organic surge of dread, that the data-stream may have been nothing but electronic errors, that its systems had finally decayed to the point of malfunction.

Another surge went through it. A malfunction meant that it would only be a matter of time before E.V.E. ordered the local-hub to erase the current software and replace it with a new, more functional system. Even worse, the A.S. could order the scanners hardware to be shut-down altogether, ending the anima-spirits very existence quicker than the human eye could blink. Scrambling to check the viability of its hardware, the anima-spirit began a systems diagnostic, simultaneously sending out a data-pulse to all nearby scanners, requesting confirmation that they too were picking up the same four objects. The diagnostic came back negative, no malfunctions were present in the hardware or software, and when the data-pulse returned, confirming that other systems were tracking the same objects, the anima-spirit let a flicker of relief run through its circuitry.

E.V.E wouldn't be shutting it down today.

A full second had passed before another, fifth spike came in, but the scanner hadn't even been given time to process the data before another five appeared, then another twelve, then another thirty four. The data pouring into the scanner was arriving faster than even its quantum-processor was capable of translating the numerical values into a three-dimensional replica of the detected objects. Switching into the over-drive, the scanner cycled into high gear, the internal hardware working at speeds it had never required to reach before. Milliseconds later, data-pulses were flooding in, other scanners along the length of the Arks starboard rim frantically seeking to confirm that they all weren't having a psychotic malfunction. If they were all detecting the same objects, the scanner realised as the fifth info-spike registered for an object fifteen meters across, and the size of each object was accurate, than they were detecting a very real and very credible threat to the Ark's existence.

The scanner packaged the information and forwarded to the local-hub, but barely had the information left before a reply came in stating the hub was already backed up with similar reports from other scanners in the network. Attempting to sift the genuine data from active scanners from the constant garble of the malfunctioned ones, the local-hub forwarded one hundred of the most credible reports to the next system up: the server that controlled the network for the whole local quadrant of the ship, its electronic shadow like that of some majestic, divine overlord – though still minute compared to the epic data-displacement of E.V.E.. A strange sense of déjà-vu washed over the local-hub as it too received a notification from the quadrant-server, informing it that there was already a backlog of data sweeping in from other hubs. Whatever was going on out there, it was huge, and already more superior scanners, ones that could calculate object dynamics as well as size, were informing the quadrant-server that the incoming meteor storm was approaching rapidly.

The Ark had maybe four hours before impact, possibly five at a push.

Conversing with its fellows, the quadrant-server's of the Ark unanimously agreed to notify the higher-systems, which in turn passed the information up another five levels of programming, each new level informing the previous one that it was already over-loaded with reports of the same objects. Finally, after a full two seconds from the moment the very first info-spike had been received by the original scanner, the information reach the Twins, the two quantum-systems that administered to the port and starboard halves of the ship respectively. For a full second the two brothers conferred, measuring the incoming data in comparison to theoretical charts and calculations that had been specifically created for a situation such as this. The results didn't look good.

If even half of the meteors in the storm made contact with the Ark, they could disintegrate the vessels already failing super-structure, each impacting with enough kinetic force to punch through the hull and a full three hundred decks before coming to a halt. Worse yet, several of the larger meteors had enough kinetic force to puncture through the central reactors shielding if they made contact in the right location, which, given the models being presented by the higher-function scanners, was a highly probable occurrence. There was no other choice, the twins agreed, this was above their programming and required direct intervention from the central A.S.

They would have to notify E.V.E..

Yet when the twins each forwarded their reports, they were mildly surprised to find out the central A.S. was already reacting to the approaching crisis, the only truly sentient quantum-computer aboard the Ark already exerting her influence over the ship via its decrepit conduits and rotten circuitry. Intelligent in a way over systems wouldn't be able of even comprehending, E.V.E. had long known that this day would come, when the enemies of her masters, the Celestial Sisters, would attempt to destroy the God-Dreadnought. It was no coincidence that the approaching meteor storm had simply appeared out of nowhere, and with enough force to tear the great vessel to pieces. Knowing that there was nothing she could do to prevent the coming apocalypse, E.V.E. sent a final notification to all onboard systems, informing them that the Ark was approaching destruction, and that they had served well, before turning her sentience inwards, accessing a final programme that she had been informed to only ever open in case of the Ark's complete annihilation.

It was time to awaken the salvation of humanity.

≤ΘΘΘ≥

++ Engaging core functions. ++

++ Registering revival protocols: Initiating ++

The words hung in the blackness, glowing an icy, cyan white hue. Slowly, delicately, the implanted bionetics of the slumbering human began to rouse themselves from dormancy, diagnostic programmes initiating as they ran scans of their organic host. A gentle trickle of electrical information began to run up the organics' spinal cord, the neurones of the central nervous system spasming as they were slowly revived.

++ Diagnostics: Complete. Damage levels: acceptable. ++

++ Subject: Cypher, is ready for revival ++

Though the internal machinery of the human's bionetics could be activated at the mere flick of a switch, the revival of the creature's mind was not so simple. The body could easily be preserved; so long as the correct nutrients were supplied and necessary medical attention received an organic body could live in perpetuity, though the same could never be said for the consciousness. The mind of any living creature was a fragile thing, kept sane only by its perception of the world; if the human were simply to be forced back into consciousness, the sudden rush of sensory stimulation after three thousand years of silence would most likely kill him, and drive him into irreparable insanity if he managed to survive the initial trauma.

++ Initiating revivification procedure. ++

++ Initiating neural- response suppression sequence. Beginning visual playback ++

++ Revivification procedure in progress: stand-by ++

The words were suddenly replaced with the image of a young woman, her visage filling the blackness. Around the edges of the image, data-streams continued to flow in, the onboard A.S. working with slow, methodical certainty; gently coaxing the human back into reality, monitoring his vitals and ensuring a healthy revival. On the HUD, the young woman sighed, her light-blue eyes – the same colour at the readouts on the HUD – filled with a melancholy sadness, sparkling with the threat of tears. She was... beautiful; her red hair a long, thick cascade of dazzling colour, whilst there was something oddly perfect about the symmetry of her features. An undercurrent of confusion ran through the still mind of the human, the thoughts occurring simply of their own accord, and with an alarming level of subjectivity.

"Cypher." The word echoed through the humans half-dormant mind, the primal, instinctual part of the creatures consciousness sluggish to register its presence, unaware that the word wasn't the product of audio stimulation, but being projected directly into his very being.

"Cypher, I just... I just want you to know that... I think what you're doing is wonderful." A single, shimmering tear broke free from the adolescent's eye, rolling down her cheek at glacial speed. There was something vaguely familiar about the young woman, something achingly profound that made her important in some hard-to-articulate sense. But as the rousing mind tried to chase the sensation her image caused, it skipped away, easily dodging the clumsy attempts by the still slumbering consciousness to rationalise it. Yet despite the lack of knowledge, the sight of the tear made something in the human's heart wrench, causing a brief spike in his rising neural patterns before a swiftly administered sedative suppressed the emotional response.

Oblivious, the young woman carried on.

"I wanted to come with you, I really did but... but..." A sob leapt from her throat, causing another twist in the human's heart, another neural spike to be suppressed. A flash from one of the data-streams indicated that basic neural functions had been re-established, along with an optimal heart rate and nervous system response levels. Relaying the information to the machinery of the surrounding hibernation casket, the on board A.S. moved on to the second phase of the revivification procedure: beginning the restoration of higher neural functions. "I'm sorry..." the young woman continued, tears rolling from her red eyes, which had become slightly puffy. "I applied for a position onboard the Ark but I didn't make it. They told me it was because I had no 'applicable skills', that there wasn't any room for hungry mouths that couldn't contribute. I begged the Royal Navy for a placement, even a menial one, but in the end I was useless to them."

She wiped her tears as she turned away, her breath coming in choked sobs. Looking back to whatever piece of equipment had recorded the transmission, the human's mind could clearly see the heart-wrenching sadness behind those eyes, but also strength and fire. "But... but don't let that stop you. What you're doing is wonderful for the human race, and I just know that you'll be a hero one day. I'm sure in the future they'll talk about you with awe, and you'll lead humanity to a new home, and rebuild our culture, and save our race and... and..." She sobbed again. "I'm sorry, I just never thought this is how I would have to say goodbye. They won't even let me see you. Look, wherever you're going, whatever you do, I know you'll do great things. Just... just remember I love you, and.. and..." The woman's expression became one of pleading sorrow. "And please don't ever forget about me!" she blurted out.

Don't... forget?

The rousing mind felt a sudden wave of fear, confusion and heart-ache crash over it, synapse's firing and neuro-transmitters flooding into the human's nervous system as the words triggered an intense emotional response, one that his body hadn't experienced in three thousand years of dormancy. With the higher neural functions, such as logical thought and abstract reasoning, disabled by the sedative's coursing through his blood stream, the human's reactional capacity was limited to immediate, emotion triggered responses; dictated by the regressed, subliminal, animalistic urges of the subconscious. Who was this girl? Why had she made this recording? Did he know her? When was this made? What was she talking about? Why was she so beautiful? Why did she make him feel so afraid, lonely, confused, frightened? Muscles tensed as an instinctual fight or flight reaction kicked in, the primal urges of the human's animalistic subconscious suddenly railing against the sedative induced stupor that contained it.

++ Warning: organic neural anomaly detected. ++

++ Interruption in revivification sequence occurring ++

Realising what was going on, the onboard A.S. ordered the administration of another sedative: tranquilliser pouring into the human's blood stream. Momentarily it seemed as if the dose was sufficient to calm the human's mind, but the decrease in neural activity was only minor. A data-pulse came in from the systems of the hibernation casket informing the A.S. that the subject was waking up too quickly; if he couldn't be pacified soon he would awaken prematurely, possibly leading to death or irreparable psychological trauma. Acknowledging what needed to be done, the A.S. ramped up the dosage volume of the sedative, injecting triple the regular amount. Simultaneously it moved to shut down the media file that was causing all the trouble, but as the command went out something beyond its system, a part of the organic interface, rejected the order, the HUD freezing up as the two systems – one of nanoscopic machinery, and one of raw organic emotion – engaged in a conflict of wills.

With a sudden, fresh surge of confusion, fear, and anger, the human's mind burst into reality, fully emerging from the millennial lethargy of cryogenic slumber that had held it for so long. Trying to pull free from the hibernation casket, the young man realised with a start that metal restraints were holding him bound within the cage, preventing his escape. Such was the creature's dread that it took a few seconds to realise that he was still blind: his vision comprised of nothing but blackness and the cold light of the HUD, the image of the girl frozen in place. Something from within him rose up, and opening his mouth the human let a loud, shrill scream leave his body. Yet his lack of sense wasn't merely confined to his sight, and when no sound reached his ears the human realised he wasn't only blind but also deaf; the only way to tell he was screaming being the sensation of air leaving his lungs as it rushed up his throat.

What kind of sick hell was this?

Another dose of sedative pumped into the human's system, his body weakening as it flowed into his blood stream. For a few brief moments the young man felt the will to fight leave him, crushed beneath the blissful, smothering weight of deep-sleep. Yet only a few moments later it returned with a vengeance, the human screaming once more as he threw himself against his restraints. He'd been dead long enough, whatever this was, to the human this was his genesis, and he wouldn't be denied. The bindings were strong, and didn't give easily, yet as the young man continued to rail against them they slowly popped away one by one; having only been designed to prevent movement during cryogenic slumber, and never to detain a determined occupant. Feeling the metal buckle against his assault, the young man gave one final push, suddenly tumbling forwards with incredible force as he ripped free from the hibernation casket. Still blind, he could felt his body smashing through some kind of barrier, shards of the obstruction lashing at his skin as he pushed through.

A vicious, nerve-grinding pain lanced from the base of his skull as he felt something being torn out of his body, leaving a gaping, ice-cold wound behind. Similar pin-pricks of sharp agony running the length of his body and extremities, hot fluids seeping from the tender wounds, whilst every slight movement caused an aggravated flare of pain. Cold, stale air filled his lungs as he gasped for breath, his trembling muscles holding him on his hands and knees for a few moments longer before they gave out, causing him to collapse to the ground. Shards of the shattered barrier gouged at his skin, but in his condition he was too weak to do anything about them. For what seemed an age, he simply lay there, his vision dark and his hearing deaf. The image of the young woman still floated on his HUD, frozen in an image of her bright, imploring eyes staring straight at him, into him, into his soul.

After an indeterminable amount of time, perhaps five minutes, perhaps five years, a sudden popping noise filled both his ears, sending a rush of intense vertigo through his system. Scrambling up from the ground, the human could just make out the faint tinkling of the shards of glass beneath him, faintly audible over the sharp ringing in his ears. Nausea seized his stomach, bile burning the back of his throat as he wretch on an empty stomach, stinging acid rising up his oesophagus and ejecting from his mouth as he heaved. The acid was vile and bitter, the human shuddering as he heaved until his stomach was completely void. By the time he was finished the ringing had mostly ceased, and he could finally hear for the first time, though he was still blind. A choked sob left the young man's throat as he fell backwards, away from the pool of bile he had wretched up.

Of the many emotions that were running through his head, confusion reigned supreme. He had so many questions to ask. Who was that girl? Why had he been in that prison? Why was he in so much agony? Had he done something heinously terrible, was this his punishment for some past sin? But he had no recollection of... anything. Casting his mind back, the human could recall nothing, absolutely nothing. Pushing harder, shapes began to emerge from the void, indistinct collections of blurred memories, sounds, smells, faint twinges of emotion, the human tired to reach out and seize the dim memories, but as he did so his consciousness seemed to meet something, something that didn't want him to reach those visions. A sharp, skull-splitting lance of pain shredded through his mind, the of weight all the new sensory information brought to his mind too much to make sense of; terrifying in its indecipherable confusion

++ Warning: revivification sequence has been interrupted. ++

++ Please seek immediate medical attention. ++

The young woman's frozen image flickered briefly, the whole HUD read-out skittering frantically before dying out completely and leaving him in darkness. Another sob left the young man, who buried his face into his hands. Was this really his damnation? What atrocity could had possibly have committed that had to result in his blind genesis into a world of pain, confusion, and sensory emptiness? There was a sharp pain from where whatever object that had been plugged into his skull had been torn free, a trickle of warm, sticky fluid leaking from the wound. Similar pin-pricks were flaring across his body, some discharging the same warm fluid. The young man dabbed his finger into one of the streams on his arm and brought it to his lips, hesitantly touching it against them: the fluid tasted like blood, metal, and oil. A dull ache began to emanate from his shoulder, bone-deep and constant. Groaning, the human reached behind him with one hand, gently rubbing at the tender skin.

Then his hand bumped into something cold, metallic, and protruding from his skin.

Perhaps he should have been frightened, but after all that had just occurred, the idea of his body being mutilated with metallic implements didn't seem too out of the picture. Tracing the metal appendage with his hand, the young man lightly prodded at the base of it through the thin fabric of his clothing, the attachment seeming to fuse to his body just atop the shoulder blade, where a docking port of metal seemed to be bonded to his skin. Following it upward, the young man felt a sense of trepidation as the appendage suddenly branched off, the first of a metallic membrane of smooth, cold plates brushing against his finger-tips. He tensed his shoulders against the cold, suddenly feeling the metal appendage move with the motion, curling gently inward, the membrane beginning to wrap around the contour his shoulder. The young man felt something in his heart seize; these weren't implements of mutilation: they were an extension of his own body. The way they moved with him, corresponding to every minor action; they could only be one thing. They were... they were...

Wings.

He had wings!

"Cypher?"

A gentle, feminine voice came from the beyond the darkness, causing the young man to tense. For some reason he couldn't quite discern, instinct told him that whoever was speaking to him was standing just before him, the Angel shuffling backwards from the source until he felt himself bump into the hibernation casket. The voice spoke again.

"Cypher, can you hear me?"

For a few seconds he didn't know what to do, whether the voice belonged to friend or foe. Realising he would most likely be dead if she were his enemy, he slowly nodded. "What's going on?" he asked in reply, his voice brittle and cracked, his throat feeling like it was coated with a layer of dust.

"You've suffered an intense emotional reaction, and as a result your revivification was prematurely accelerated. The damage to your higher neurological functions will be erased, but it will take time for your body to completely recover from the trauma."

"Is... is that why I'm blind?"

"Yes." There was something... off about that voice. It was gentle, maternal, even caring. But there was something behind it, a slight, cold inflection that implied a lack of emotion on the speakers part, which disturbed him to no end. "The hibernation casket used neuro-suppressant drugs in order to reactivate your higher functions gradually, but for some reason the media playback provided stimulated an unprecedented response within your limbic system due to the sudden overload of neuro-transmitters in your frontal-lobe. I'm afraid you've lost approximately eighty-three percent of your sight, and forty-nine percent of your sense of smell. You've also suffered extensive nerve damage, along with acute hibernation sickness. Thankfully, the damage was not extensive enough to cause instantaneous death."

It was too much to take in. He was blind, critically damaged, and had been on the verge of death? Perhaps... perhaps it would have been better to die.

"Why are you here?"

"I am under orders from the Arch-Angel Gabrielle to ensure your survival and safe deliverance to Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two. I am the one who initiated your revival. Truthfully, I was unsure of whether you'd actually survive the procedure, there's never been a recorded attempt to revive someone held in suspension for so long."

"How long have I been... suspended?"

"Three-thousand four-hundred years, eight months, twelve days, three hours, fifty-eight minutes, and forty seconds."

What?

What?!

"But right now that is not important. I understand that you have many questions, and in your condition arduous physical activity may be hazardous to your continued functionality, but I am afraid we only have one hour until the Ark begins to break-up. I will accompany you down to the surface, but first you must retrieve my primary-core on the bridge. Once you have done so, I have a drop-pod ready for your use."

Things were just moving so... quickly. He clutched his head, the throbbing pain from before returning with a vengeance. The wound in the back of his neck felt less raw, the trickle of fluids seeping from it coming to a halt, but still his body was rocked by a bone-deep ache, as if every muscle fibre in his being was recovering from one great, continuous cramp. Barely had he clawed free from the womb of his hibernation casket, and already he had been told the ground beneath him would soon begin to break up, that he had only forty minutes to make his escape from... what had the woman called it? The Ark?

"Cypher, we can't stay here any longer."

"But I can't see. How will I be able to make it to the bridge?"

"The damage to your retinal structure shall be repaired soon, your nanotrites will see to that. Until then, I can remotely access their systems and effect a temporary recovery long enough for you to reach the bridge. To be blunt: I shall be your eyes."

A sudden pulse of warm energy flowed through him, starting at the base of his brain stem and diffusing down the length of his spine, his nerves tingling as the soothing heat extended to his very extremities. His vision slowly crept from darkness to a jumbled collection of blurred shapes, vague objects depicted in slightly different shades of grey. The HUD flickered back into life, icy cyan letters prominent in the darkness as data-streams crawled up the height of his vision. Gradually the grey turned lighter, until sudden pulse of cyan hexagons raced across his field of vision, glowing in an intricate matrix of geometry before disappearing as quickly as they emerged.

He could finally see.

He was sat with his back propped against the edge of the hibernation casket, a field of shattered glass spread before him, a pool of grey-yellow bile slowly spreading from the centre where he'd wretched. The chamber his sat within was in the shape of a large hexagon, containing another nine caskets, two sharing each wall, the only light being that of the cold, stark white illumination which spilled out of his own hibernation casket. Unlike his own, the other caskets showed no signs of damage, the light shining through their glass surfaces revealing each one to be devoid of occupants. Other than that the chamber was hidden in thick shadows, hiding the evident damage the chamber had sustained; the walls were dented, and in some areas cracked open to reveal an immense array of wires and tubing hidden beneath. More wires hung from the roof, where several panels had come loose and lay scattered about the floor. The air was thick with dust, kicked up by his brutal genesis from the casket.

Everywhere there seemed to be ruin and decay, the chamber filled with an atmosphere of forgotten glory.

"Can you stand, Cypher?"

Turning his attention from his decrepit surroundings, the young man found the source of the voice, the woman who had been present at his birth. She was stood only a few feet away from him, a tall radiant figure swathed in shimmering ropes of pure white. She had no colouration to her person whatsoever, everything from her clothing to her skin formed from the same, snow-pure white, with only her eyes, possessing a vibrant orange retina, deviating from the blank colour scheme. She was divinely beautiful, her features perfectly symmetrical, and finely chiselled like to marble bust, framed by a cascade of long, flowing hair. Yet as with her voice, there was something... cold about her, something dispassionate, and not entirely human.

"Who are you?"

No hint of expression passed over her face, the woman simply gazing passively at him whilst she answered "I am a self-sentient anima-spirit designed and programmed by the Royal Academy of Great Britannia to serve as adjutant to the Arch-Angel Gabrielle, and operating anima-spirit of the God-Dreadnought. My official designation is Electronic Virtual Entity, production code zero-zero-one, but you may call me E.V.E. if you prefer."

"Zero-zero-one?"

"Yes, like you I am the only one of my kind in existence."

"What does that mean, what am I the only one of?"

"As frustrating and confusing as the situation may be for you, I'm afraid I cannot answer any further questions. We only have fifty-three minutes until the Ark begins to disintegrate. Now then, Cypher: can you stand?"

"I think so." Shifting his attention to his numb legs, the young man grit his teeth as he willed the appendages to move. For what felt like an eternity the limbs failed to respond, but slowly, agonisingly slowly, his knees bent, the Angel pushing up with his arms until his weight was balanced on the legs beneath him. Shakily reaching his full height, the boy managed a few stumbling steps before his legs gave out, causing him to fall on one knee. It seemed as if something were trying to pull him to the ground, a force he would have to constantly resist to stay upright. Grunting in pain, the young man focussed once more, taking a few seconds to breath before rising once again. His legs flared with the sharp sensation of pins-and-needles, his balance wavering as he reached full height, but after several more seconds the sensation died out, and like a babe who had just learnt to walk, he took several small, gentle steps forward.

"Are you ready for transit?" E.V.E. asked, briskly striding past and over to the only wall that didn't have any hibernation caskets. Raising her palm to the doorway, the woman's body flickered like candle-light, the door splitting open shakily as faulty servo-motors gratingly pulled it open. Turning back, E.V.E. watched as the newly awakened stripling stumbled across to the door, each step demanding the utmost focus on his part. In time he would acclimate to the concept of movement, but for now he was near helpless.

E.V.E. internally cursed the indeterminable nature of organic spirit.

A sentient anima-spirit, she herself was capable of understanding, and feeling to a certain extent, human emotions, and by extension those of an Angel. They were such strange things, organics, driven by impulses and urges that defied logic in a way she found at once fascinating and infuriating. There had been no reason for Cypher's premature awakening: according to all collated data from the hibernation casket the process had followed the calculated pattern of progression. And yet, for some inexplicable reason a simple media file had been sufficient to rouse the young man's dormant instincts. Though she was programmed to a degree of knowledge that was incredibly close to mirroring human life, E.V.E. knew she was still a far cry from the true complexity of organic existence. Though she possessed the power to eventually rationalise Cypher's neurological reaction, and also a piqued sense of curiosity to investigate the incident, E.V.E. shelved the thought within her memory banks.

Only fifty minutes remained until the incoming meteor storm tore the Ark apart, now was no time to rationalise the human mind.

Finally reaching the doorway, the Angel stepped out into the dark, unlit corridor beyond the cryogenic vault, the only light being the gentle glow of E.V.E.'s holographic form. The instant he stepped through, the young man felt his stomach churn as he lost all sense of weight, his first step out of the chamber propelling him into the air. Unable to stop his free-fall motion, the Angel grasped at thin air, vainly trying to bring himself to a halt, and only doing so once his back pumped into the far wall of the hallway. Another wave of vertigo rushed over him as he lost all sense of co-ordination. In this free-fall environment the world had been transformed into a three-dimensional existence, with motion possible in literally infinite directions. Bouncing off the wall, he began to slowly drift towards what could have been the floor, assuming E.V.E.'s orientation against the surface was correct.

"I should have informed you earlier," E.V.E. said in her flat voice. "Artificial gravity has failed within most quadrants of the ship; only the bridge, and your cryogenic vault actually posses any semblance of gravity." Stepping out into the hallway, the hologram remained fixed to the ground, her immaterial body unaffected by the lack of grounding force. "However, without the presence of gravity, you will not have to rely on your legs for movement, meaning that our journey-time to the bridge has greatly decreased. I predict that if we follow my calculated route, we should reach the bridge in approximately eleven minutes."

Grunting as his body gently bounced off the floor, slowly beginning to rise to the ceiling, the Angel felt another wave of nausea rush through his head, his mind spinning with vertigo as he struggled to make sense of this new, three-dimensional environment. "But how will I move?" His legs kicked vainly against the air, unable to propel him forwards without a solid surface to push him off. E.V.E. regarded him as if it were the most obvious question anyone could possibly ask.

"You shall use your wings."

The young man looked over his shoulder, seeing the dark grey construct of metal rising over his right shoulder like some bizarre war-banner that had been fused to his body. Following the rim of the pinion, his eyes settled on the membrane of metal plates he had felt earlier, each plate glowing a brilliant ultramarine blue in the light of E.V.E.'s body, glittering like diamonds. At the top of the wings supporting structure, just before the radiale joint that allowed the membrane to extend and retract, was a hollow ring set into the metal, which contained another ring within it. The internal ring was spinning rapidly, its movement swift, yet silent. Looking over his left shoulder, the Angel saw an identical construct rise from his back, a sense of awe running through the his mind as he realised that these mechanical prosthetics were his to command.

"How... how do they work?"

"The wings are mechanical augmentations hardwired into your bionetic system via a series of electrical-impulse based conduits. Essentially, you have a secondary nervous system comprised of a mixture of cybernetics, bionetics, and genetic modified organelles and tissues. The wings are designed to respond to the same mental commands generated by your brain that control for movement in your limbs: you must will you wings to move. If my calculations are correct, which they are, you should have sufficient residual energy to reach the bridge."

E.V.E. made is sound so simple, as if he really could just wish for these artificial works of art to propel him forwards. Yet a sense of doubt hung within his mind. If he had barely been able to stand, how could he possibly fly? Knowing that he couldn't delay, the Angel cast caution to the wind and focussed. Within his mind's eye, he pictured himself soaring through vast open space, flying through the void on his mechanical wings. A thin whining filled the air, and looking back the Angel saw that the internal rings set into his extensor joints were rotating much faster, a harsh orange light emanating from the space between the internal, and external rings. With a sudden burst of force the twin rings fired tongues of orange fire, the young man suddenly speeding through the air of the empty hall, E.V.E. easily keeping pace by his side on her own holographic pinions of light.

As quickly as it started, the burst stopped, the Angel drifting through the empty corridor with only marginal air resistance to decrease his velocity. Beside him E.V.E. kept perfect pace, gliding ever so slightly ahead of him.

"Where are we going?" he called out to the hologram.

"Just fly straight, Cypher," she replied.

The sensation was heavenly, uplifting, exulting. After the harrowing events of his genesis, the sudden ability to power through open space seemed almost like a gift of recompense from some benevolent deity. Even on the minuscule burst of power he'd utilised, the Angel soared through the empty corridor, a trail of orange glowing particles stretching in his wake: the remnants of exotic matter generated by the ionisation process of his ignition rings. Though he couldn't see more than twenty meters in front of him at the most, E.V.E.'s luminous form provided ample illumination in order for him to dodge any incoming pieces of debris that littered the weightless void of the corridor. His wings handled beautifully, altering their yaw and pitch at the slightest mental command, moving with such a degree of finesse that for a few moments they literally seemed to be a part of his organic body, the distinction between flesh and machine blurring momentarily.

It was a good the corridor was so long, because the Angel abruptly realised that he couldn't actually bring himself to a halt. Ahead of him, rearing up the shadows, a thick bulkhead signalled that the hallway would soon be coming to an abrupt stop. Throwing his arms up to protect himself, the Angel closed his eyes, wishing there was some way to slow himself down before he impacted the wall at full force. Feeling the rush of air around him begin to slow, he opened his eyes, gasping in shock as he saw that his wings had spread wide open, creating a drag force sufficient enough to bring him to a gentle standstill. Approaching the wall at a much more appropriate speed, the Angel stretched out his hands, gripping a low set railing that ran the length of the wall and using it to bring himself to a halt.

E.V.E., righting herself as she too reached the wall, came to a stop, looking about her. The corridor they had just been in terminated in a T shaped junction, stretching into the shadows both to the left, and right. Her orange eyes flaring momentarily, the hologram stepped up next to the free-floating Angel and pressed her hand against the wall. Though physical contact was impossible given that she was an incorporeal being, the smooth surface of the wall suddenly depressed into itself, splitting to reveal a monstrously heavy access bulkhead, its surface covered in black and yellow hazard stripes. "This bulkhead opens up into the Ark's spinal transmission shaft. If we follow it aft, there is another access bulkhead approximately two miles down that is located only a few corridors from the bridge. I shall do what I can to ensure that there is a modicum of artificial gravity once we arrive, but given the state of the generators the chances are slim."

A harsh, painful grinding noise emanated from the bulkhead as it jarringly pulled open, revealing a small ante-chamber just beyond. Using the railing to pull himself inside, the Angel noticed, with some trepidation, that the bulkhead was at least three feet thick, and comprised of solid metal. Bringing himself to a halt within the ante-chamber, E.V.E. joined the Angel and closed the access bulkhead behind them, sealing it shut before drifting over to a similar portal on the other side the room, the ante-chamber only being three meters in length and two meters in width: scarcely big enough for the Angel's winged augmetics. Opening the second access bulkhead in an identical manner to the first, E.V.E. pushed off into the space beyond, the Angel following after.

The spinal transmission shaft was cavernous.

The shaft itself was an enormous tunnel at least a kilometre in diameter, bored through the depths of the Ark like some epic termite burrow. Gently floating through the air as he pulled himself out into the shaft, the Angel noticed that the metallic panelling of the shaft was perfectly reflective, with nary a blemish present. The only illumination came from a huge power transmission conduit that floated at the very centre of the shaft, approximately two hundred meters in diameter; it's surface covered in a mosaic pattern of metal plates, ultramarine light pouring from the crack in between. The conduit ran in both directions of the shaft, illuminating the cavern for a good few hundred metres in each direction before its glow became too weak to penetrate the shadows. For a few seconds the Angel was held in awe of the monumental scale of the shaft, like to great cathedral built to house the god-entity of the transmission conduit. Coming up beside the glowing form of E.V.E., the Angel suddenly felt miniscule before the incomparable size of the world he currently resided in.

"Follow me," E.V.E. told the Angel, the ignition rings built into the radiale joints on his wings firing once more as he moved to keep pace. Within moments he could tell they were both travelling at great speed, the stagnant air cool against his face, but there seemed to be no way to tell that they were moving at all; the walls of the shaft devoid of any marking, and the pattern of the plates wrapped around the transmission conduit reduced to little more than a blur. The shaft, it seemed, was incredible in the scale of its distance as well as its diameter.

Once more the Angel felt a strange thrill course through his body as he powered forward, something that seemed to almost be instinctual, as if he were born to fly. At once the instinct seemed perfectly natural and bizarrely aberrant, the two feelings conflicting in a most confusing way. Some part of him knew that he was terrestrial, a grounded creature, but at the same time another section seemed to rebel against the notion, and urged him to soar even faster, accelerate to ever greater speeds. An urge to do so suddenly seized his body, the impulse begging to be let loose, like to inner entity buried just beneath his skin. In his mind's eye, the Angel saw himself rocketing through the open void, little more than a blur to others as he sundered the serenity of that empty world. But even as the ignition rings began to cycle up, their ion trails beginning to blaze, he felt the intrusion of another entity, its presence like that of a cold, unfeeling being, halt the transaction, the ignition rings suddenly dying down to an idle drone.

"I am afraid you are not ready to experience the full power afforded to you by your augmetics," E.V.E. suddenly stated in her flat voice. "Whilst the urge to utilise your synthetic talents has been documented amongst the Angel species, I can't risk you pushing beyond your limits until full neurological functionality has been restored."

A sensation of annoyance filled his mind, an instinctual aggravation rising at the fact he couldn't express his urges. But as the feeling took hold it was replaced by something else, a sense of curiosity at the hologram's words. "What do you mean 'the Angel species'?"

"You are not human."

What?

"That's ridiculous, of course I'm human!" He couldn't tell what made the words come out of his mouth, or why E.V.E.'s comment had made him feel so offended, but deep inside him, from the same place of instinct that urged him to fly, and breath, and live, came the utter certainty that he was human and nothing else.

"No, you are not. You are an Angel."

"What's an Angel?"

The hologram didn't dean to reply, simply stating. "We have arrived."

Above them, swathed in shadows, but just visible from the dim like of the transmission conduit, some sort of structure hung suspended from the roof of the shaft: a square box with windows lining every wall. Running around the outside of the building was a large observation balcony, enclosed by a metal railing. Following E.V.E. up towards the box, the pair alighted on the balcony before another access bulkhead, E.V.E. opening it with the touch of her palm before they moved within. The interior of the building was dark: a single floor crammed full of computer panels, the installations lining every wall and set up in rows across the room. Shards of broken glass twirled in slow motion, winking like razor-edged suns. As in the spinal transmission shaft, there was no gravity.

"What is this place?"

"A monitoring station. From here a cohort of the Ark's engineers ensured that power distribution throughout this quadrant of the vessel remained stabilised." E.V.E. explained, her feet once more fixed to the ground. Striding across the room with the boy in tow, the pair came to a halt over a round metal disk, which promptly began to rise from the ground and into the shaft above that connected the monitoring station to the rest of the Ark. The ride was only a couple of second long, the disk pushing the weightless organic up with it, nearly catapulting him into the roof when it came to a halt several decks above. Wasting no time, E.V.E. merely continued onwards.

Moving through zero-gravity, the pair climbed another eight decks and took an innumerable amount of turns; the hologram firmly grounded whilst the Angel, still denying he was anything other than a human being, manoeuvred with the help of his wings. Here, as with down below, the corridors were dark and silent, a heavy air of foreboding hanging over the broken halls. Though he'd only just awoken to this world, the Angle could sense that something had happened here, that some catastrophe had befallen this place and sundered it into the dark, ominous form it now possessed. It was in the hints that littered the decks: broken panels, dented floors, broken illumination strips. Once this place had been beautiful, and now... now it was broken, perhaps permanently. E.V.E. came to a halt before yet another bulkhead, though unlike the others it was round rather than rectangular, and devoid of the black and yellow hazard stripes.

Raising her palm, the hologram turned her head to the Angel floating behind her.

"This is the bridge."

As the door opened, splitting down the centre, the hologram stepped through, the Angel pulsing himself in after her. The bridge was roughly a hundred meters wide, the far wall lined with immense viewing ports at least ten meters tall. Unable to suppress his curiosity, the Angel fired his ignition rings, drifting across the command deck towards them. The bridge itself was divided into two separate pits, each filled with rows of computer access terminals, their screens dark, lifeless, and in several cases shattered; glass shards filling the empty space of the desk. Running between them was a three meter wide gantry that spanned the width of the bridge right up to the viewing ports, a circular dais set halfway down its length, where a chair mounted upon triple tiered platform resided. Drifting past the chair, the Angel brought himself to a halt before the viewing ports, reaching out to slowly stop his forward motion; face practically pressed against the glass as he gazed out into the void.

Beyond it, the eternity of the universe gazed back.

Stretching out from the bridge was a massive dagger of grey-black metal, the expanse slowly narrowing the further its distance from the bridge until, an indeterminable distance away, it culminated in a sharp tip that thrust through the nothingness of the void. Rising from the dorsal spine of the great vessel were fat, blocky structures; an entire city jutting up from the Ark's hull like barnacles on the back of some vast, unimaginable sea-beast. The city itself sat within a sunken depression into the hull, the rim of the enormous crater studded with yawning openings that were exposed to the void. Away from the dorsal city, beyond the pits rim, the hull of the Ark was seamless metal, not a single structure breaking the monotony of the plain, until it reached the very edge of the vessel, where innumerable tiny sensor spires jutted out into the emptiness of space. The whole vessel must have been tens of miles in length; a whole world held in suspension upon the vastness of the vacuum.

"Is... is this the..."

"The Ark?" E.V.E. asked, floating up beside him. "Yes,"

"What... what is it?"

"The Ark, is a Damocles class void crosser, or, as it was more commonly referred to by its passengers and crew: the God-Dreadnought. It has a spacial displacement of several billion cubic tons, a carrying capacity of five millon, and is capable of sustaining all onboard life-forms indefinitely. Commissioned by her royal highness Queen Elizabeth the Eighteenth, construction began in forty-two eighty-three, and was completed in forty-four twenty-six, before being officially launched in forty-four ninety-one with the blessing of his royal highness King James the Eleventh. Like you and me, it is the only one of its kind in existence, the pinnacle achievement of humanities technological expertise in all fields of scientific research. The universe has never seen its like before, and will never see its like again."

"Why?"

Instead of answering, E.V.E. raised her hand and pointed out to the starboard side of the vessel. Following her gesture, the Angel saw a bright cluster of more than a hundred objects approaching the Ark, each leaving behind a fiery contrail as they crept closer and closer. "In approximately twenty-five minutes, that meteor storm will make impact with the Ark's hull. Several are too small to cause much damage, the contrails you see are the products of the vessel's ionic shell slowly grinding the meteors down into nothing, but over eighty of the objects I am tracking are too large to be destroyed by the ionic shell alone, and I am afraid all remaining weapon systems have long since decayed beyond the point of operation." E.V.E. almost seemed... sad, a flicker crossing her passive features, though only for a moment. "I have served aboard the Ark from the moment of my inception, it has always been my greatest priority. Though I cannot truly define what it means to me, in human terms, you would call this my home. I do not despair, however, for the Arch-Angel has issued me with a new priority."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"You said this vessel carried five million people. Where are they now?"

Turning, E.V.E. pointed into the opposite direction. Once more following her indication, the Angel once again felt awe seize his soul. In the void beyond the port bow, a planet hung in space.

He didn't know how he'd missed it, in fact now that he had seen it the fact he'd somehow missed it before seemed ludicrous and embarrassing. The world glowed like an enormous gem, emerald green continents and sapphire blue oceans almost impossible to look upon, so bright was their presence. It seemed as if he were looking upon Eden; a world of unspoilt natural beauty. "The planet is named Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two, discovered in the year forty-one fifty by astronomers of the Royal Academy of Great Britannia, and possessing one moon, and one star. Its atmosphere is perfectly suited to supporting human life, so much so that its conditions are identical to that of ancient Terra. The colonisation of this world was the original objective of the Ark's mission, to ensure that there would still be a home for humanity for the next generation: it took fifteen hundred years of sub-light travel to get here."

"Was the mission successful?"

A dark look flashed across E.V.E.'s face. "To an extent: humanity still lives." Without another word, the anima-spirit turned about and returned down the length of the gantry, stopping before the raised throne. "But we do not have time to continue this conversation, we must evacuate soon or the drop pod will not be able to clear the blast-radius of the vessel when the systems turn critical." Watching as the Angel gave one last sweeping glance of the epic vista before returning to her side, E.V.E. pointed to a single button on the right arm-rest of the command throne. "Simply press this to eject my primary-core. You don't require any authorisation, I am already in sole control of the vessel. Once that is done, simply plug my primary-core into the input-socket at the back of your skull."

Following E.V.E.'s command, the Angel pressed the button; a small cylinder popping out of the armrest as he did so. Pulling the primary-core from its plug, the Angel regarded the metal object momentarily before feeling behind his head, fingers probing for the input-socket the hologram had mentioned. It wasn't with a mild level of shock he realised that the socket he was searching for was the same gaping wound that had troubled him within the cryogenic vault. slowly, carefully, he raised the cylinder behind his head, wincing as it rubbed against the still tender flesh before, with a near-silent click, it slid home into the input-socket; ice cold to the touch.

Instantly a pulse ran through him.

Nausea churned in his stomach as he felt E.V.E.'s programming being to fuse with that of the anima-spirit already residing within his bionetics. Within his HUD, data-streams began to scroll at an incredible pace down his field of vision, too fast for the naked eye to comprehend. A read-out appeared in his vision.

++ New anima-spirit software detected, beginning installation ++

Much better. E.V.E.'s voice echoed within his head, her words projecting directly into the Angel's mind now that she had a direct hook-up to his neural systems. Interesting, your architecture isn't that much different from the Ark's.

"Don't get any ideas."

I would suggest you look back to the viewing ports.

Turning, the Angel took a step back in surprise as he saw that the transparent surface of the viewing ports had been replaced with the image of a largely built man sitting upon what appeared to be the same command throne he was now stood beside. In the image the man was surrounded by other humans wearing dark blue uniforms, all of them sporting several medals on their lapels. The man in the chair was covered in what appeared to be large, unadorned segments of armour possessing a white hue, long locks of chocolate brown hair framing a stern visage. Standing, the man approached whatever device had recorded the media file, and it wasn't until the Angel noticed dual items of metal cresting over the man's shoulder that he realised that he was looking at, what had E.V.E. called him? An Angel.

You are correct, E.V.E. spoke in his mind, seemingly reading his thoughts. That is Gabrielle, the Arch-Angel.

"Cypher," Gabrielle spoke, his voice a rich, deep baritone. "If you are watching this message, it means the Angels have failed in their mission of leading humanity to a new home, and that such a duty now falls to you." the Angel felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "Truthfully, we have no idea if this message shall ever be viewed, but if you are out there, know you are now humanities last hope of salvation. Though we have tried our hardest, the two xenos known as Celestia and Luna have forced us back to the last few remaining colonies, and our numbers have been severely decreased; at most only several hundred thousand humans still live. Your brothers and sisters have done their best to hold the line, but one by one they have fallen to the enemy: their sacrifice shall not be forgotten."

The knot in the Angel's stomach tightened as the image suddenly changed to several pictures of yet more Angels, their long dead eyes seeming to gaze straight into his being. "The Celestial Sisters possess something we do not, some sort of psychic intuition that givens them incredible mental abilities. We have done our best to study such anomalies from captured specimens, but so far our research has turned up nothing. I wish we had more information with which to arm you, but these xenos... their biology is incredibly complex, much more so than that of the average human being. All we can inform you is that they are incredibly xenophobic, and show no love for human life." A look of deep remorse crossed Gabrielle's face, the Angel recounting images only he would ever know. "Should you ever be awakened, I have instructed E.V.E. to accompany you down to the surface: once you are there she shall brief you on the full details of your mission."

Drawing himself to his full, imposing height, Gabrielle flared his wings, raising an arm in salute to the camera; bizarrely, the Angel felt a strong urge to salute back. "If there is anyone who deserves this burden the least, it is you, young Cypher. If there was anything I could do to carry the weight for you, I would take it in a heartbeat. Just know that the fate of the human race now rests in your hands, Cypher, it falls to you to bring salvation to humanity. All I can wish you is good luck; by the time you see this I will most likely be dead." Gabrielle lowered his arm. "Good luck, young Cypher, and may God be with you."

The image cut to black, before being replaced with the panoramic vista of the view port, and leaving one lone Angel completely stunned.

Only ten minutes remain until the meteor storm impacts with the Ark, it is time that we leave. Nodding absently, the Angel turned and pulsed himself back along the length of the gantry. At the far right end of the bridge, something stirred into the shadows, and angling his trajectory to approach it, the Angel noted that it was the drop pod E.V.E. had mentioned earlier. Pulling himself into it, the Angel occupied the only seat available. The pod was incredibly cramped, and initially the young man thought his wings would be an issue. But as if they could sense the need to disappear, the twin augmetics suddenly began to fold in on themselves, shrinking until they could easily fit snugly into the seat without too much discomfort on his part. Buckling himself in, the Angel simply waited as E.V.E. began a diagnostic check on the pod, his mind lost in thought at the A.S. prepared for launch, the minutes ticking away.

Barely an hour had he existed, and already he felt as if he were drowning in the impossibility of his reality. First his blind genesis in the freezing isolation of the cryogenic vault, when he had ripped himself from the steel womb of the hibernation casket, blind, deaf, emotionally unstable, and wracked with agony. Then the confusion of his existence, the questioning of what he had done to possibly end up in such a dark, empty world. And now, he had been charged with the safe-guarding of a species which he had been informed he didn't even belong too. Perhaps time would make some sense of the mystery and confusion that shrouded his existence, but for now, he could do nought but wait; a helpless victim in the current of fate.

The only indication the pod and launched was a faint popping sound as it jettisoned from its docking port against the bridge of the Ark. Slowly, as the pod traversed the port side and began its descent to Habitable-Biome zero-zero-two below, the God-Dreadnought revealed its true form. The bridge was a wide, stocky rectangle mounted on a large support column above the bulk of the vessel, minute in comparison to the size of the ship it commanded. On the opposite side of the Ark, the first meteors began to impact with the vessel, pillars of fire like infernal flowers blossoming the length of the God-Dreadnought as the drop pod shot clear of the port side. The death of the Ark seemed oddly majestic from this angel, the sharp dagger breaking apart with glacial speed as it was slowly ruptured by the immense kinetic force of the bombarding object. Through the tiny viewing port the drop pod possessed, the Ark suddenly seemed like an incredibly minute thing in comparison to the backdrop of deep-space it was set against, just a speck of sand before an unimaginably vast ocean.

"E.V.E."

Yes?

"I'm not human, am I?"

No, as I have stated before, you are an Angel. I have more information on the matter, but I have been ordered not to brief you until we make planet-fall.

"And that name you call me: Cypher?"

Yes?

"It's mine, isn't it? My name?"

That is correct.

What an odd name, the Angel thought to itself, as a particularly magnificent explosion rose from the Ark's dorsal city. Cypher? An odd name perhaps, but as the Angel repeated it over and over, it began to gain a sense of familiarity, something that comforted the confusion in his mind. The state of reality might have been chaotic, confusing, and distressing, but as the word continued to roll off his tongue, the Angel allowed himself a faint smile. For all the problems he had been born into, at least the issue of his identity had seemed to resolve itself.

His name was Cypher.

Cypher the Angel.

Author's Note

Well, here it is: my first attempt at a HIE fic.

As with all of my stories, please feel free to leave a comment. If you want to point out any errors I've made, or anything in the text that bugs you, please do let me know, and I'll be sure to rectify any errors. If you like this, do be sure to check out my other stories too, and as always, I'd appreciate it if you gave this little story a thumbs up, even if you're just passing through.

Thanks.

Erol.