Twilight felt her heart somewhere down in the ends of her toes all the way to the dizzying pounding that it created in her head, a marvel that she was even able to stand much less take steps into the crime scene that had become the research laboratory she called her workplace. If she tried to speak right now, she might throw up; if she paused to think, she could easily pass out. She didn’t know how on earth she was supposed to be of any assistance to investigators, or much of anyone, when she was in such a state of panic. Despite every phone call she’d made, every attempt to glean information out of her coworkers and superiors that had been in frantic contact with her, not one of them was able to tell them anything beyond the simple fact that her private lab had been raided. No culprit mentioned, no cause or time of incident, not even the slightest hint. And worst of all? Despite every time she’d ask, all the insistence and demands and pleading Twilight had lowered herself to committing, not one of them was telling her if it had been taken. That was her only major piece of research property she’d kept contained within the lab! Theft of data was one thing, they would work and tinker and come to the same roadblocks she had encountered- but if they stole the prototype and tried to replicate it now…

Don’t you dare be sick, Twilight told herself, and what iron will she possessed forced the rising bile in the back of her throat to remain stoppered. Today would be enough trouble on its own without conjuring fearful dread of the tomorrow. One piece of bad news at a time.

Everywhere she looked were reams of people, uniformed officers both EMS and Police in the midst those she called fellow employees, peers, and maybe one or two as friend. What sort of a disaster had been wrought here that would require medical aid? Twilight looked through the throng and caught a familiar face in the form of Mr. Waller, the day-shift security guard that ran security for the main gate. Usually jovial and merry, his face transformed into a ghastly pale color and seeming to struggle with breathing, heavyset body on the ground and being cared for with dedication by a team of medical personnel. “Oh my god…”

“Miss Sparkle!” The call of Dr. Vanda’s voice interceded before the horror of bloody violence could seep in and bring about shock, the young scientist distracted from the scene outside and turning to the sight of her superior striding towards her, grimmer and more distressed than she had ever seen him. “There you are, I was worried police wouldn’t let you through.”

“What happened here?” Twilight asked, aghast at the sheer number of personnel that seemed to be all about Ionis’ campus. Dozens outside, who knew how many more within, all of them busied with care of someone or investigation of some kind. The research facility was positively teeming with people, all of them displaying a strong measure of unease. “You said there was a break-in.”

“It was worse than that. Inside, now, we can’t discuss everything out here.” The older man motioned for his young worker to follow him indoors and the two strode hurriedly inside, walking through the main doors that showcased shattered, tiny punctures in the glass.

“Those are bullet holes-”

“That was security’s response to the assailant. Waller got struck when he couldn’t get to cover in time.”

“Oh my god.”

“He wasn’t the only one,” Vanda replied in a dark tone, “Dr. Mendel was shot in the head when he caught sight of the perpetrator leaving your office. He didn’t realize the man was carrying a gun.”

Twilight’s already-chilled blood was turning to ice. This had begun as a nightmare on the simple information of a break-in to her lab, and every new revelation she was being given was turning it into a catastrophe. “Dr. Vanda, you know I need to ask-”

“Not yet.” They’d been walking down the hall towards the personal research labs, a once-clean hallway down covered in grime of human refuse and the effects of excess activity, a team of policemen carefully at work to extract what looked like used ammunition from the walls, the flashes of photography all about them. The world was active and awake, eyes and ears peeled for anything that would be deemed an unknown.

“Doctor..?”

“Not yet.” Vanda’s words came in a short hiss, his pace turning rapid as they turned the corner. “We’re going to my office. The lead investigator on this case will need to talk to you about any details he’ll need to find the perpetrator.”

Was it meant as a warning? Vanda was unusually on edge, a man of calm who’d dealt with the stressors of wartime, and yet this ordeal was pushing the vein in his temple to a breaking point. Twilight’s portent of dread was only increasing in weight…

“In here.” They turned the corner and came upon a conference room, Vanda suddenly opening his stride so that he could reach its door before Twilight could pass by. He motioned for her to go inside, promptly sliding in behind her to see the quiet room sealed shut. Pushing his subordinate out of sight of the door window, a care was taken to see the door locked and that none had taken note of their sudden absence. “Alright, you need to listen to me-”

“Is Project Valiant in my lab or was it stolen?” Twilight demanded. Alone, her terror about to reach fever-pitch, no longer could the once-neurotic woman withstand the pressure. “Where is it?”

“Keep your voice down! You and I are supposed to be talking to investigators right now, I need you to listen to me or else it’s going to get worse.” Vanda’s voice was rushed, intense as though he knew he only had seconds to spare.

But Twilight was not to be swayed, or else her fear might see her worked into a frenzy. “Where- is- my- research?” She practically screamed.

Vanda bit his lip, hesitating to answer for a time. “It was the only item stolen from you entire lab,” he hurriedly confessed, “I ordered IT to run an emergency scan of your files to see what commands had been taken on your computer but they found nothing-”

Twilight couldn’t find a way to hear his words over the ringing in her ear, the pulse of her heartbeat as it went still and sent her legs to tottering. Her world had been one of calm and summer serenity only an hour ago, now it had been transformed into her ultimate nightmare and it was only just beginning. Project Valiant was gone- it was gone, stolen from her lab and it alone. That meant someone had to have some clue as to what it could do. But they hadn’t stolen the files! Partial information was worse than ignorance, someone might feel bold enough to put it into practice and act upon it! The idea of her most valuable, most dangerous work being out in the world and in the haphazard grasp of those who knew not the risks made her vision swim. Who knew what this thief might try to do with such a thing? What if it was activated and put to work inside a host? If they weren’t contained, it could easily go haywire and- and-

“Easy. Twilight, start breathing. You need to stay awake and listen to me!” Vanda’s words were louder, his hands on her shoulders and trying to shake her back into full consciousness. Her twisting, twirling vision returned from the shades of dark and light and found a way to focus upon the hard features of her superior. “You can’t pass out now, I may not get another chance to speak to you before this is over.”

“If the project is gone- someone might try and actually use it!” She managed to say. “That- they won’t know what it can do, how it affects the host-”

“I know. And neither do the investigators,” Vanda rushed. “Right now, there are only three people in the world who know about Project Valiant’s design flaws, and two of them are in this room. Mr. Abernathy has been informed of what’s occurred, but he’s up in Manehatten right now and won’t be here until tomorrow. So that means the people who are about to ask you a whole bunch of questions about the one item that got four men shot are completely ignorant about how dangerous that nanite is. And we are going to have to convince them of just how important it is that they get it back without telling them just what it can do.”

Twilight took a breath, exhaled, and then repeated the process before the words of her superior began to sink in. “We- we can’t tell- Doctor, they have to know, they won’t understand how bad the situation is if we don’t!”

“I know. So we are going to have to figure out a way to warn them without telling them what it is they’re looking for,” Vanda insisted. “Right now, company policy is dictating that we cannot reveal insider information about any unapproved prototypes. Since Mr. Abernathy was going to the company’s HQ to get your work approved, that means the project is still pending approval. So right now, your work is a deep company secret, and if a bunch of people know that we’re working with DAARPA on a new kind of technology, a whole different kind of arms race opens up to the whole damned world.”

“I don’t care about that, we’ve got to get it back-” Twilight insisted.

“I know! And we will!” Vanda said. “But you are not understanding me. Twilight, your nanite is the first functioning nanite in the world. It can take data storage, follow commands, and actually perform the function- you’ve made one of the biggest leaps in scientific progress since probably the moon landing. But if word gets out that this country can produce microscopic tech that actually functions, then the whole world will have its eyes on you.” The older man’s vision was filled with cold, a harshness in his face as he tried to impress upon her. “Every country will want to produce their own, and that means they’ll have to have you. Not a word of this can leak out or else everyone in this company becomes a potential target, most of all you. Just because the Iron War is over does not mean that there can’t be another war after it.”

She hadn’t considered that. Of course she hadn’t, a mind made for progress and the betterment of others had no time to consider the political actions of shadowy elites. What sort of foul places would wish to claim her? A kidnapping in the middle of the night would be all too easy, a young woman with hardly much physical strength or ability to resist not able to offer a counter. Of course she would be under threat.

A nod came from her, one more soon following. “So what do we do?” She at last managed to ask.

“We tell them everything we can about the perpetrator. Everything we can about your work, why someone would want the prototype. We emphasize just how important it is that they get it back. But we do not,” Vanda implored, “tell them what the prototype does. If we can get it back before it’s too late, then all this worry doesn’t matter; we go on like none of it happened.”

“And if we don’t get it back?”

“We are not going to consider that for now,” Vanda said. “All you have to do is tell the investigative team enough of the truth. So be careful.”

It was going to be such a difficult line to fly, but what other choice did she have?

Twilight did her best to restrain her trembling as she entered Vanda’s office to find a pair of weary-looking men awaiting them, both in casual office attire and seeming none too happy to currently be present. Were these the investigators she was supposed to speak with? Why were they looking at her with such hostility? Surely there was nothing about her that had aroused their suspicion already! It was difficult not to feel like she’d somehow started off on the wrong foot right from the start.

“Miss Sparkle?” One of the men rose to his feet, a heavier-set man with light-brown hair that was starting to thin. Upon the right side of his waist sat a grim-colored firearm and a badge, opposite to the pens and notebook on the other. His gaze was emotionless and carried nothing that spoke to any friendliness, even as he gave Twilight’s hand a shake. “I’m Detective Zimmerman. This is my partner, Detective Hoskins. Take a seat right here, please.”

On unsteady legs did Twilight take a seat at the outer edge of Vanda’s desk, more or less kept in the corner by the two investigators and offered little chance of escaping. Were they trying to keep her prisoner here, as though they suspected her of participating in this foul play?

“Alright, Miss Sparkle… like I said, I’m Detective Zimmerman. We had a few questions that we’d like you to answer,” the balding man began, extracting his notebook and already beginning to set down a few scribbles. “Do you feel like talking with us today?”

“Uh- of course, yes,” Twilight stammered. I had a choice in the matter? I didn’t know they let you have a choice.

“Alright, so I was told that you were on paid leave when the incident occurred so that you could spend time with your brother and his wife as they were in town, is that true?”

Twilight nodded. “I was scheduled to come back into work on Wednesday, two days from now,” she said.

“And that’s been a long-term plan for a while?” Zimmerman inquired.

“I’ve had it on the books for about four months.”

“OK…” A few scratches there, the aging man working in haste to put his remarks down in ink. “Now, Miss Sparkle, are you aware of the details as to what occurred here while you were absent?”

“Only a little,” she answered. “Someone broke into my lab, a fight broke out, people got hurt… I haven’t been told much.”

“Alright. So at approximately 12:35PM, a man identified by your superior as a Doctor H. Mendel noticed a man exiting your personal research lab. As you were known to be on paid vacation, Dr. Mendel went forward to confront the man and ask him why he had been in your lab, which should have been left locked from your departure from the Friday before,” Zimmerman said, voice so calm he may well have been reading from a script. “When Dr. Mendel came face-to-face with the perpetrator, said perp extracted a firearm from his labcoat and proceeded to shoot Dr. Mendel in the head-”

Twilight couldn’t stop the intake of breath. “Ohmygod-”

“Upon discharge, the sound of firearm triggered the building’s security systems, which began ringing and alerting company security to the incident, as well as location. I believe you know how Ionis’ security system works…”

“Yes, it- it registers the incident on the nearest microphone and alerts main security to the location,” Twilight explained. “The intercom system will update for every new security violation that gets registered.”

“Good. So after security was informed of the incident,” Zimmerman continued, “they proceeded towards your lab and encountered the perpetrator still brandishing a firearm, one he proceeded to shoot twice more, killing a security guard by the name of M. Sandalwood and injuring a Mr. Trots. The perpetrator continued to violently push his way towards the building main entrance and forced the head of day shift security, a Mr. Waller, to open the door at gunpoint. When Mr. Waller tried to resist, the perpetrator then proceeded to expend several more rounds into the man. As he fled, out the door, the remnant of company security opened fire through the doors to no effect. When the perpetrator came to the roundabout outside the main entrance, an unmarked vehicle was there waiting for him and it sped off away from the building and has not been seen since.”

Twilight had just been slapped across the face with a menagerie of carnage, all of it read in a voice so calm and cold that Zimmerman may as well have been informing her of the weather. She’d expected something bad; this sounded horrible!

“You are aware that your lab has been found damaged, as well as contents removed,” Zimmerman prompted.

Twilight nodded- for far too long, she trying to jumpstart her voice into any measure of function. “I am aware that my most current project has been stolen, yes.” Voice tremulous, despite her efforts to prevent it. Of course she was scared, she had every reason to be scared, she knew the gravity of the situation better than anyone else alive. This much carnage already and who knew what else might transpire-!

“Do you know why anyone would target your lab specifically?”

“I had… just given a presentation of my latest prototype to our regional executive,” Twilight explained. From somewhere behind she heard Vanda shift in his seat; Steady now. “I was told that Mr. Abernathy’s been informed as to what happened-”

“He’s currently on his way back from Manehatten. Do you know why he was up there?”

“No work can go past the prototype stage unless given approval by the regional executive, or the board of executives,” Vanda interjected, garnering a pair of unwelcome glares from the two investigators. “Twilight’s project was of a more sensitive nature and Mr. Abernathy knew it would require a larger approval from the company before any further work could be done.”

Zimmerman scribbled down a few notes, but seemed displeased at the interruption. “Is that why Mr. Abernathy isn’t here today?”

“I know he’d said he was going to get further approval for my work, yes,” Twilight said.

“Why would your work require further approval? What exactly is your field of research?” Zimmerna asked.

“Medical and biomechanics,” Twilight answered. “I’ve done a lot of work on prosthetics and human motor function since I joined Ionis. My project was in the same field.”

“So it was a new prosthetic,” Zimmerman offered.

She heard Vanda shift in his seat again. “Better than a prosthetic, if it worked correctly,” Twilight said slowly. “But it was unstable. I was asking the company for further funding so we could perfect the prototype.”

“So, the work that was stolen,” Zimmerman remarked, “It was unfinished. It wasn’t really a working item.”

“It worked, as in it performed the functions we asked of it. But it had flaws, seeing as we couldn’t get its functions to halt of our own accord.”

“Why would someone want it, then, if it didn’t work?”

“I… don’t know,” Twilight said, and she felt a shiver course through her at the admission of such a half-truth. “It had huge potential, but it likely required decades of work before it could be fully functional. I had only just completed the prototype a month before the presentation.”

“Did anybody else know what you had been working on, prior to the presentation?” Zimmerman asked casually, but Twilight would have sworn she saw a flicker of his eye to realms just beyond her shoulder.

“Only Dr. Vanda,” she said. “As the team leader for this lab, all progress has to be made known to him before any requests for a presentation. I had to show it to him first before anyone else.”

“So no one else should have known you had something worth stealing.”

“No, not at all.”

Zimmerman reached into a nearby briefcase and extracted a small plastic baggie, forcibly sealed and held fast with a tamper-evident seal. Setting the baggie down on Vanda’s desk, Twilight was gestured to investigate its contents and saw a miniature dot of metal within it. Small, hardly larger than a button- but one familiar, something she’d seen before. “Is that a transmitter..?”

“We found that in one of your labcoats hanging near your laboratory door,” Zimmerman explained, “Dr. Vanda identified it as a listening device currently being produced by your company.” He eyed the young woman. “Any idea as to why that was there?”

Twilight’s immediate instinct was to say no; of course she didn’t know, how could she have known? The whole of her focus had been upon that presentation, not on anything that resided in one of her pockets! Why would she be paying attention to whatever the outside world tried to distract her with? But then it registered in her brain; this investigator assumed she’d known of its presence within her labcoat. That she’d been a willing speaker for it to hear…

“You don’t think I put it in there!” She cried.

“Do you know of someone who would?” Zimmerman’s words were more akin to a challenge, he trying to shake the tree and see what fell out. And currently, he sat there staring at Twilight and saw something rotten.

“No! No one here would do that, what on earth would they do it for?” She cried. A cold shiver was somewhere in her heart, imagining that perhaps how she answered wasn’t very wise.

“Then why did you put the transmitter in your pocket?”

“I didn’t!” Twilight said, the tremor in her voice likely not helping matters. “I swear up and down that I don’t know who would have known of my work beyond the people I already told you about!” She wondered if they even believed a word she said; they could have easily made up their minds already and decided that everything she was saying was a farce. And if they had, what that meant for her was dire…

“OK. So, let’s assume someone was spying on you,” Zimmerman said, slowing his approach and letting his intensity die away. “What would be the benefit?”

“Miss Sparkle had worked on the most successful prosthetic the company has ever designed,” Vanda offered. “She is considered one of our brightest minds when it comes to research and development. If there was a person to spy on, her name would be at the top of the list.”

“So espionage would-”

Whatever Zimmerman had to say would be left to the wayside as a knock came at the door. A policeman pushed his head through and said, “Detective Zimmerman? We’ve got security footage here for you to look at. Clear ID of the shooter.”

Twilight’s heart skipped a beat. So they might know who had chosen to potentially doom them all.

“Awesome. What format do we have?”

“An SD card for you, Detective.”

“Perfect. Let me take a look.” Zimmerman took the offered piece of plastic and data in hand and procured a tablet from a nearby backpack, setting it on a stand so everyone in the room could take a look. “Alright, so we can take a look at exactly what happened when the shooting took place. Thanks to eyewitnesses, we have a pretty small window as to the timeline of events…”

Twilight felt sick to her stomach as she watched Zimmerman and Hoskins begin their work sorting through the card’s data until they reached the security footage, moving their way through the numerous hours before until they could at last reach the zero hour that has brought this nightmare about. She couldn’t help but wonder- who had fooled her? Who had been trustworthy enough to deceive her senses so easily and make her the foolhardy Trojan horse that had allowed such a disaster to transpire? And would they know what to do with her project?

“Let’s see… OK, there’s someone at the door of your lab,” Hoskins murmured, gesturing to the screen where a short, rather dark silhouette was standing, with something in hand that was attached to the numerical entrypad on the wall. “So the perpetrator didn’t know your passcode to enter if they’re having to use a cipher to get in…”

“It must be modified,” Dr. Vanda remarked. “Any outside technology would make the building’s security systems immediately give an alert as to the breach.”

“Alright, he goes in…” The footage was sped up to push through the empty space, the door to Twilight’s lab a hollow, darkened void that made its owner shiver. So much awfulness could come from that empty space, enough to-

“And here he comes… OK, pause it right there.” Detective Zimmerman called for the footage to come to a halt, his suspect front and center within the frame for the two researchers to inspect. “Can you ID this person?”

Twilight felt her stomach lurch. She most certainly could, and it was the person she never would have suspected in all her life. “Doctor Ngao!” She proclaimed. The senior researcher on the floor, second only to Dr. Vanda? The very idea that he of all people would commit this sort of brazen theft was unbelievable to her. She couldn’t even conceive of a reason why.

“You know him?”

“Doctor Nhất Ngao,” Vanda said gravely, a cold expression on his face that spoke to fury and extreme worry. “Been with the company for fifteen years, had just recently published a study on the applications of electrical-based medicines that would amplify the effects of prosthetics. He… is a foreign expat who’s been working with the company on a visa.”

“Was he aware of Miss Sparkle’s work within the company?” Zimmerman inquired.

“Only what had been made public knowledge. Her work on past prosthetic development was openly known to everyone.”

“I didn’t tell him a word as to what I was working on, I swear,” Twilight insisted. “He had even offered to help me several months ago when I had hit a roadblock; I didn’t say anything.”

“Do you use the same laboratory coat every time you’re at work?” Zimmerman asked.

“Yes… yes, I do. Do you think-”

“If he had been close enough to slip the transmitter into your pocket, that easily could have been the moment he had done it,” the detective guessed. “Can your transmitters survive washings, be put under water and still be effective after?”

“Without a doubt. The transmitters are meant to work in tandem with a person’s hearing aids,” Vanda replied. “Sonuvabitch, Ngao…”

“So he could potentially know the full functions of whatever materials he stole from your lab.”

“I hope he does,” Twilight said tremulously. “My work, it- it was volatile. If it was released out into the open, the damage could be catastrophic.” She didn’t dare imagine what would happen if the nanite was exposed to human flesh, how invasive it would be, how long it might take before it truly took hold…

“And if he doesn’t? What would the likely scenario be with your material in Dr. Ngao’s hands?”

“Selling it. And I’d bet every dollar I have that he’s taking it to Umbra Industries,” Vanda said bitterly. “Our top rival in the industry, and also beginning to fall behind. With Miss Sparkle’s entry into the company and her work in the medicinal field, we’ve been surging. Odds are, this is a targeted strike to try and glean from our best researcher.”

Twilight felt a chill somewhere in her heart. The idea of someone else having full access to her work without understanding an ounce of it- gods, what if someone tried to immediately leap to human trials with Project Valiant? “You have to get it back. Before it’s allowed into the open, it could- the damage would be-”

“What sort of damage are we talking about? Is your work lethal to the public?” Detective Zimmerman inquired.

“My work,” Twilight breathed, “Is currently lethal to everything.”

He ran. Of course he ran, nothing in the life that he led no could ever be taken at a slow pace again. Everything had gone wrong from the moment he’d left the girl’s laboratory, an overly friendly researcher there to be something decent and heroic rather than self-serving like every other human being on earth. God damn the decency that somehow still existed within humanity! Doctor Nhất Ngao rushed through the filthy vibrancy that was human traffic with eyes that darted about wildly, senses peeled for the moment he saw EMS lights of any kind. By now, they had to know what he was up to; a BOLO was out on him by now, without a doubt. A shootout at the most important research facility in the entire state was capable of that sort of thing. God knows how many he’d left dead.

It will be worth it in the end, he told himself, a constant mantra that had pushed through scourges of conscience and God knows what else that had tried to waylay his progress. Sell this prototype to Umbra and I can go back home. Hang will be waiting, just as she promised, with Linh and Anh… this will all be worth it when I have the money. Yes, the money; that was what had made this worthwhile. Enough money to buy an entire island, make himself the lord of a whole body of land. They would be able to buy everything they needed from the mainland for the rest of their lives without ever having to lift a finger; anything and everything in the whole world would be their oyster- he just had to survive until then!

For now, what he searched for was a parking lot; one miserable, dank parking lot attached to a shopping mall that refused to actually die, half-filled with cars that were tied to staffers and another half that had been left there as useless piles of junk. It was not a safe place, it was not a good place. But it was also not a place the local police force went, since it meant they were at risk of being killed by gang activity; a perfect place to make a criminal espionage trade.

“There we are,” Ngao muttered, seeing the mall’s parking lot come into view on the edge of the horizon. He’d been sensible enough to rip off the vehicle’s license plate and put it on the dashboard, less likely to be seen by prying eyes than the tail of the overlarge van. It hadn’t been the most inconspicuous vehicle, and he knew it; leaving it here with no plate was probably the best option he had available to him. Eventually, someone do-gooder with little better would do would spot the familiar colors from a police warning and call it in- but not yet, not today.

A slow, controlled turn into the lot as Ngao tried to keep his breathing under control. He was almost there, and the liason from Umbra would be forced to uphold their side of the bargain. He was so close to returning home with the riches of a king, so close! Only a few more moments before the offered bargain would be paid off!

From one level of the lot to the next, coming to the second to last before he was at the assigned space; left empty just as he’d been instructed, Ngao kicking his way out the door with a tremble. Goodness, his leg hurt. He was certain he hadn’t been shot, but such a stabbing pain! He’d have to check himself before it was over, surely excess exertion couldn’t be enough to describe this sort of malady-

“God’s sake, you really fucked this up, didn’t you?” The sound of a harsh, grating voice came to meet the wizening man’s ears and registered Ngao to his lack of solitude. From a nearby rustbucket of a vehicle came leaping forth a concealed figure of a man, covered in all the sorts of trappings that no sane person would wear in the days of early summer: dark hoodie, sunglasses, hoodie, pants and even a bandana across his mouth. Utter concealment was his goal, even if it caused him to suffer. “What the fuck were you thinking, going into that place and raising that sort of goddamn ruckus? Now half the fucking country is gonna be looking for your stupid ass!”

“I got accosted! I wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone!” Ngao said, hands up as the figure came rushing towards him. “God’s sake, you think I wanted to have to shoot my way out? I didn’t even alert security when I infiltrated the lab, I was in and out in a few moments!”

“Well now you’re on the fucking news, asshole!” The Umbra spy snarled, every inch of displaying a vehement displeasure. “So what you have had better be worth it, because now it’s gonna cost ten times more to get your useless fucking ass out of the country. God, maybe I should just fucking shoot you and take it-”

“I didn’t do any of it on purpose! A nosy employee got into my business and I had to shoot him,” Ngao snarled, more than frustrated by it all. “I would have been gone in less than five minutes if I’d not been held up, the plan was perfect!”

“Well now you’re everywhere. Everyone with half a braincell is looking for you, if you haven’t noticed!” The man grumbled, pistol still pointed directly at the man he saw as both asset and liability. “Jesus, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just finish this myself and kill you.”

“You don’t know where I kept the prototype,” Ngao said hurriedly, not at all certain that the man’s words were meant to be a bluff; he might really about to be stabbed. “I might not have it on me, I might have buried it somewhere.”

“Oh, bull-fucking-shit you don’t have it on you, there’s no way you had the time,” the man griped. “Come on, show me the goods. If I don’t see the item, I don’t call your security detail. No detail? You fucking get arrested.”

“God’s sake, fine! I have it on me,” Ngao roared, losing his patience amidst the stress. Never before had he been put under such a pressure. “And I’m guaranteed to be smuggled back to my family?” He had to know, had to be sure that the bloodshed he’d just endured was worth it. If he couldn’t ensure the future…

“That’s what we agreed, isn’t it? Hand it the fuck over!”

“And I will be wired the money in three days?”

“Fuck’s sake, you’d better show that shit now or I’m gonna blow your fucking head off-!”

“Fine! I have it right here, give me a moment,” Ngao said, one hand held up in a plea for mercy and the other digging into his pocket. Goodness, his leg hurt! As he pilfered through the pants pocket that contained his most valuable asset, he could only fiddle about and hope that whatever had struck him wouldn’t last for long. But then again, why worry? He’d soon have enough money to see it fixed forever, never again to concern him again-

Wait… His fingers were scraping against something sharp, a hardened piece in his pocket that did not resemble the smoothness of the vial that had been tucked inside. What had changed that would make it so uncomfortable to put hand into pocket? Unless…

“No…”

Emotion must have shown on his face, for the Umbra spy raised the barrel of his weapon to be parallel with that of the wizened man’s skull once again. “What the fuck is the fucking hold-up?” He demanded. “Throw me the goddamn thing or I swear I’ll take it from your corpse.”

Ngao barreled through each and every pocket he had with the ferocity of a man in utmost panic. No, it couldn’t be- he was sure he’d put it in his right-hand pants pocket, the one least likely to lose anything! He knew for a fact he had, he remembered checking three times on the way here! But why did he not feel the vial beneath his fingers? Gods above, all he felt was a sharpness, and when he brought his fingers up for an examination, all he could feel was… was blood.

Cut fingers. Trembling, terrified, Ngao reached into his pocket and saw it rent inside-out, sending shards of broken glass that had once been the vial housing Twilight’s prototype down onto the parking lot floor. Glass that had cut his fingers, cut into his leg in all the terrible hurry, glass shattered and let free the prototype God alone knew where.

“Where the fuck is it?” The Umbra contacted demanded? “You’ve got three seconds-”

“… I had it in my pocket,” Ngao began, voice so hoarse and cold that he hardly knew himself to be in physical form any longer. “I had my hands on it, I swear-”

“What do you mean you had your hands on- oh for fuck’s sake, you lost it?!” The man was absolutely livid, staring down the aging doctor before him with a fury so powerful that it may well burn them both. “You had one job- you literally had one goddamn job! How could you lose the one thing you agreed to bring?!”

“I had it in my pocket, I was moving fast-”

“Like that’s any sort of fucking excuse-”

“I can retrace my steps! I can find it again!” Ngao pleaded, looking at the pistol and feeling more mortal than he’d ever felt in all his days. “I know it was only for a moment, it can be fixed-”

“Like fuck it can! There’s too much heat on you, how long before someone finds you? Where are you gonna go?” The contact retorted. “Fuck this, if you get traced back to Umbra then the whole thing goes to shit. Something that small can’t ever be found again and you know it- I’m calling you in before you can rat anyone out!” Without another word, the faceless figure of a man brought out a cell phone and began to dial away-

He only had one moment to prevent disaster, and Ngao took it. Rushing towards the man, he flung his hands out against the pistol and tried to wrest it from his aggressor’s grasp, forcing the barrel out towards open air if he could not manage to point it back against the attacker-

“Fuck!” One shot was enough to deafen, then another; Ngao brought hands to cover his ears by instinct as the raging sound screamed in his ears uncontrollably, too close for any sort of protection to be offered. It was a natural move, subconscious, but enough to cost him; the heavy weight of the pistol’s grip fell upon his head and rendered him broken, barely conscious and at the feet of the one who had been his only source of salvation.

Ngao tried to raise a hand. Tried to stop it, but no such strength or ability was available to him. He could only lie there on the hard cement of the parking garage floor as he heard the vile creature he had tried to bargain with ring up those that would be his doom.

“Hello, 911? I saw the BOLO on that doctor- Nhất Ngao? Yeah, I’ve got him in an old parking garage off Lyndon Road…”

She didn’t know one could feel so wretched. Childhood terror and trauma had been rendered insignificant in comparison to the nightmare she currently dwelled in. How was she supposed to eat anything, even if her body was begging for her to crave it? Sleep was clearly not going to happen, not anytime soon. Her whole world was fixated on the one object she couldn’t put her eyes upon, desperate for it to be seen and see her dread relieved. What she shad endured as a girl seemed so small when faced with the fact that her willful gift to better her world might now be used to annihilate it.

Please… please, she begged, reaching out to anyone and anything that could help soothe her fretful spirit. Let this end well. We have to find it. Don’t do this to the world, please, not through me.

Once her interview at Ionis had been concluded, Twilight had refused to return home. Going back to Shining and Cadance in such a state wouldn’t have been of much use to anyone, anxiety and pure fear more than capable of rendering her to some inert state of blubbering heartbreak. Better that her family didn’t know what currently transpired than be beset by the same misery as she. Now, sitting in the police department and awaiting news as to what might have happened, all she could do was stew in her nerves and pray desperately that her worst fears wouldn’t be realized. Gods, what would happen if Ngao had already sold the protytpe? What would become of its powers when unleashed, untested, upon a world that wasn’t ready for it? Worse, what if someone tried to weaponize its faults into something deadly? It seemed too unimaginable for words.

Twilight sat alongside a corridor of cubicles, watching and listening, listening and watching. She could only sit there and huddle, not emotionally capable of being a productive aid to the investigation. God alone could have produced Vanda’s steadfast aid, the elder man speaking with police continuously so that she might catch a break from the trauma. Had he stayed so that she might escape the misery for a moment? A blessing upon him, if so. She needed it.

She could already imagine the horrors, her mind conjuring nightmare scenarios of Project Valiant out amongst the unprepared world. What would it look like when subjected upon human flesh? She’d only ever seen it turned against test animals, not anything quite to potent as a human being. How could it proliferate, transmit between hosts? Could it change hosts and still surive? How would its replication process work when no longer connected to its progenitor nanite? There were a million questions she simply didn’t know how to answer, not when a human being was involved. Rabbits and lab rats were only so complex when compared to the dynamism that was humanity. Gods, what if it transferred to something massive, like a shark or an elephant? Could it infect grass and soil? The whole planet could be terraformed.

Young Twilight gave a shiver and tried not to think about the direst of possibilities. She knew not how to deal with them just yet.

So engrossed with her own thoughts was she that the brilliant researcher didn’t realize that her world had become a flurry of activity. Officers and staff were moving this way and that, Vanda currently speaking with Hoskins in a hurried tone and still bearing an expression of worry. What had happened that she had just missed? There was only one way to find out.

“Did they find him? Do they have it?” She asked, moving from her seat on the guest chair to the detective’s cubicle, hoping for a fair answer. “What’s going on?”

“Someone called in on the BOLO for Ngao, out at the St. Matthews Mall parking garage,” Detective Hoskins answered. “We have Dr. Ngao in custody, but whoever called it in managed to evade custody. First responders reported a man heavily concealed by clothing jumping the fence and proceeding on foot…” the heavyset man gave a sigh. “Due to our prioritizing Dr. Ngao and the absence of any accurate description on this unknown party, he is still at large. The doctor was thoroughly searched, but we have no evidence that he carried your research on him.”

“Project Valiant still not accounted for,” Vanda said grimly.

Her heart sank. So many different outcomes were still on the table and she had no idea which was more likely than the other. “Where’s Ngao now?”

“We’re bringing him in. Once we’ve searched him again, Detective Zimmerman will question him thoroughly,” Hoskins answered. “We’ll have a TV available so you can watch the interview, whatever Ngao says you’ll hear live. If something sounds off, I want you to let me know immediately. Anything and everything, understand?”

Twilight nodded. Of course she’d cooperate, why wouldn’t she?

“It would help if we had a better description of what to look for…” Hoskins offered-

“You have to get it back or else the consequences are dire,” Dr. Vanda simply said, offering no more than what he had right from the beginning. All either of the researchers could hope to offer.

“Hell, say something encouraging, why don’t you?” Hoskins muttered, pushing past his scientific victims and addressing the department as a whole, fully officer and offering nothing else. “OK, our mark is coming in! Once he’s been physically assessed, I want eyes on him at all times. Any sort of unusual eye movement, strange tone or cadence in speech, keep a look out. What we’re working on is getting reported to the FBI by this time tomorrow so we’d better have something worth taking a look at to send up in the first place! We haven’t had an investigation go cold under my watch, we aren’t about to start now! Get to work and make sure to feed me and Zimmerman every bit of support you can, we are not going to lose this now. And keep your guard up! Ngao has killed multiple men, we are not going to make mistakes now!”

Twilight felt a horrible chill in her blood as she watched the world about her prepare for the arrival of her unexpected adversary. There was so much at stake, especially since there was still no positive confirmation on the whereabouts of her prototype. What had he managed to do with it? Was it in some stranger’s hands, with Umbra Industries? Gods, what if it was already being applied to someone in the hopes of seeing the nanite’s abilities firsthand? She didn’t even dare imagine the outcome. Behind all the worries that lurked at the forefront of her mind was a prickling unease, a queasiness in her stomach. Ngao had actually murdered people. Shot them dead, drawn blood… she’d never seen a murderer with her own eyes before. Much less known one.

“Make way, make way!” The call came from further down the hall as a pair of officers, still adorned in ballistic vests and all their weaponry, pushed forward a limping and miniscule man ahead of them. Ngao had clearly not enjoyed himself, features covered in grime and sweat, even what seemed like blood trickling down from his hairline and coming to a halt just above his nose.

“Did… did they do that to him?” Twilight asked. She turned her head away, not keen on meeting Ngao’s gaze so soon. The gaze of a killer made her skin crawl.

Hoskins shook his head. “Police found him already injured. Unsure whether it was received during the assault at Ionis or if the person was meeting with struck him.”

“So he could have been double-crossed?”

“We’ll find out.” Hoskins continued to arrange himself, turning back to his partner so that they might discuss strategy in their approach of their suspect. As more of the investigative team joined in, the more Twilight found herself shunted aside, forgotten in the face of the more urgent priority. Taking note of Vanda’s motion for her to join him, she withdrew herself as a spectator of their work and came to take a seat by her superior.

“Have you ever seen an interview with a suspect before?” Vanda asked her, his voice willfully low, a quieter rhythm meant to be difficult for ears to hear.

“Only in movies and stuff,” Twilight answered just as quietly, quickly catching on to her boss’ intent. “It was always… intense. And violent.”

“This could possibly take hours to conclude,” the older man said. “Even a typical murder interview could go for several hours. With this, and the fact that the FBI is now getting involved… it could be quite a while before either of us can go home.”

“What’ll happen once we have to start speaking with the FBI?” Twilight asked. “They’ll have to know what Project Valiant is, won’t they?”

Vanda nodded, but remained silent for a little while longer. “Probably, yes,” he muttered, features scrunching as he tried to plan for that next hurdle. “Which means details of Valiant will have to be accessed. Your research will likely go under federal control for a period.”

“Could they seize it from us if they want?” Twilight asked fearfully. The idea that anyone other than her working with the nanites terrified her. Without the utmost care and control… “Even start working on it themselves?”

“Possibly, but that would mean DAARPA would have to renegotiate their contracts with Ionis. The most likely outcome is that your work would halt for several years.”

Twilight gave a nod and turned away. It was at least better than Project Valiant being taken from her hands immediately…

Chairs squeaked and movement came to their ears. Hoskins and Zimmerman readied themselves and entered the interview room where Ngao awaited, the rest of the investigators turning towards a nearby TV screen that displayed the room interior for them to watch. One of them caught sight of the two researchers observing from the corner and motioned for them to join their circle.

“Say as little as possible,” Vanda warned her, and the two outcasts took their seat to watch the game begin.

The interview began methodically. Hoskins and Zimmerman asked a litany of basic questions, collecting information from Ngao to help them have a basic profile. Questions about his life, his age, his home, his work, things that seemed to have no effect on the investigation at all. A constant flow of queries and information as they wrote notes endlessly. Though battered and weary he was, Ngao was at least not an unwilling suspect, answering dutifully without the need for pulling teeth to get the most basic of information. His profile was soon apparent for his interviewers to see: an intelligent man, a foreign expat that had come to work in the US on a long-term visa and missed home, aged and aging all the more with every single year that passed him by. And likely the best of his work behind him rather than ahead…

She didn’t know quite when, but somewhere in the stream of constant questions, the investigation took a turn. Current-day issues became the forefront of their intent, forcing Ngao to turn to the shooting at Ionis and all the death he had dealt there. To Twilight’s surprise, the man seemed legitimately displeased with the outcome, regretful that his actions had caused such harm. “It was meant to be so quick,” she heard him say numerous times. A simple theft and gone before anyone would know something had been stolen. Clearly whatever he had been planning had not gone in any of the ways he had hoped.

“How did you know about Doctor Sparkle’s research project?” Hoskins asked. “Had she mentioned anything to you about it, or to anyone else?”

“I had… bugged her labcoat,” Ngao answered dully. “A microphone so I could hear her words. I slipped it into her pocket so I could keep track.”

“Why would you do that? Did you have an idea of what she was working on?”

“Doctor Sparkle’s last project had been a breakthrough in the field of prosthetics. It was also her first one. I believed she was going have a much greater item in her next stage of research, and I was willing to take the risk.”

“What would motivate you to spy on her?” Hoskins asked. He sat comfortably in his chair in the interview room, in his element as he demanded further info.

“A promise. Pay, more than I would ever have accumulated in a lifetime’s worth of work at Ionis,” Ngao said.

“Who offered you? Or did you reach out to someone?”

Ngao looked around for a moment. “… I was contacted by someone. Working as an intermediary for Umbra Industries. They had lost contracts with the Department of Defense when Doctor Sparkle’s last prosthetic was released for general use.”

Twilight gave a small gasp and turned to Vanda, finding him completely unsurprised by the revelation. The work truly had been espionage.

“So they saw her as someone to keep an eye on. Why not simply try to offer her a job instead?”

“She was offered, one month after her prosthetic was released. She refused. Umbra decided to spy on her instead.”

“And they found you willing to help. What did they offer you besides money?”

“Transportation back to my homeland. Protection for me and my family,” Ngao answered. “If I succeeded, I would be guaranteed safety so we could not be extradited back to the US.”

“What made the project so important that they would take such a risk to get it?” Hoskins inquired. “Is the field of medicine that competitive?”

Ngao again squirmed in his seat. “This was something totally new. A replacement for prosthetics. Doctor Sparkle’s work would be able to manufacture a replacement limb directly from the host’s body without the need for a detachable limb. The nanite would fuse with its patient and create a new flesh. Doctor Sparkle’s work was a marriage of engineering and medicine that had never been attempted before.”

“Oh, Jesus!” Twilight’s hand flew to her mouth from the horror of the admission, loud enough that everyone in the room turned their attention from the interview and instead over to her. Never in a thousand years had she thought that Ngao would actually be foolish enough to blurt out the secret!

“Ngao, you goddamn dumbass,” Vanda breathed, quieter in voice but just as furious in spirit. “Do you have any idea of what you just did?”

“You called it a host. Is it a virus?” Hoskins asked.

“A nanite. A microscopic machine that would be injected directly into the body, identifying places of repair and injury in its hosts. Its programming would then direct it to delete and remove any infection or dead flesh, replace the missing limb, and replicate itself until the limb and any other injury was completely healed.”

“So no need for a prosthetic,” Hoskins offered.

“Ever again. It was worth the risk for Umbra to pay extravagantly for it.”

“You had it,” the investigator offered. “We searched you before you came in, and according to Doctor Sparkle’s testimony, the… you called it a nanite?”

“Yes-”

“- The original nanite… was in a small glass vial. We didn’t find it on you.” Hoskins’ looked square at the man. “Where is it?”

Ngao didn’t even try to hold his head up, sagging completely in his seat. “… I lost it.”

“He what?” Twilight breathed. Ngao had been telling the truth so far, how had he managed to actually lose something so vastly important?”

“Bullshit. We found another person fleeing the scene when officers arrived. You just got made a fool of and don’t want to admit it,” Hoskins challenged.

“I did not surrender the nanite!” Ngao asserted. “I found pieces of glass in my pocket where I had kept it. The vial broke and the nanite is lost. I was never able to complete the transaction. The man who I was meeting with attacked me and called the police.”

“And why would we believe that?”

“You searched me and found the shattered glass in my pocket, put a bandage over the cuts it had given me,” Ngao insisted. “How else could I prove it? Why would I even try?”

Twilight hardly bothered to listen after that, more inwardly focused than anything someone would have to say. She felt sick, felt ill; how was reality simulatenously worse and better than what she’d prepared for? Ngao seemed absolutely insistent that he didn’t have the nanite, which was a relief in regards to its use. There was no way a foolhardy company with limited knowledge of its contents could put it to wicked ends. But all the same, it meant she would have to start right from scratch. Manufacture a new nanite progenitor, find a way to begin her research again. It would be a long, miserable process…

When Hoskins and Zimmerman left Ngao to wait in the interview room, it was of little surprise that they sought out the mild-mannered woman who had been at the epicenter of this crime, a look of more than mild frustration on both their faces. A quick, forceful jab of a finger towards their cubicle was all it took for Twilight and Vanda to be summoned.

“So… the stolen item being a mechanical bug might have been nice to know,” Hoskins began. “Was there any moment where you were gonna tell me this?”

“No,” Vanda answered flatly, speaking on behalf of his younger colleague lest they direct their anger at her. “It was only needed to be known that is was a high-priority item that had been stolen. What it was mattered not.”

“So a sci-fi superbug wasn’t something worth mentioning?” The detective demanded, red-faced from anger. “You yourself said it was critical that it be retrieved, now what the hell am I gonna tell the people who are scouring the investigation site to look for? Are they gonna use electron microscopes or some other made-up bullshit?”

“They won’t have to,” Twilight said quietly. “The nanite can’t perform its functions without having first been put into contact with the inner layers of a body. It’s made to react only to certain proteins and cells within living tissue.”

“So that’s what I’m supposed to be worried about? Holy fuck, you made it sound like some Armageddon shit,” Zimmerman remarked, glaring daggers at both the researchers. “Jesus fuck, I thought it was something dangerous. Ngao made it sound like the best thing since sliced bread.”

“It is dangerous,” Twilight insisted. “The nanite hasn’t been fully corrected, it’s barely beyond the prototype stage. If it came into contact with living tissue, it would immediately react.”

“How, then?”

“It would correct all broken or deficient physical issues within the host, for starters,” Twilight began-

“And that’s supposed to be bad?” Hoskins said drily.

“- Then it would continue to assimilate the host, correcting every bit of the person the programming deems to be a deficiency,” the young woman continued. “I can’t make the programming complex enough to see anything other than the work the nanite’s performed as something deficient. It replaces all biological tissue while elevating aggression levels within the host so that it tries to attack and kill everything around it. It makes the host become extremely violent while also consuming the host entirely.”

The two detectives shut up quickly after that, Zimmerman biting his lip as his mind went over the implications of what that would mean. “It basically turns the person with a nanite in it into some kind of monster,” he offered.

“An extremely invulnerable one. It couldn’t withstand extremely high voltage, but that was in its early stages,” Twilight explained. “It’s possible that it could withstand more if it had longer periods to gestate.”

“Which is why this information cannot go beyond the ears of the FBI,” Vanda insisted. “If word gets out about such a creation, the whole world is going to enter into a new sort of technological arms race.”

Zimmerman and Hoskins looked at one another and groaned. This was far worse an issue than any sort of usual murder investigation, and working with federal investigators could eat up months of their time. This was the beginning of a long and painful process in their lives.

“And it wouldn’t be able to just… enter into something and correct it? Make, like, a slab of sidewalk, come alive?” Zimmerman inquired.

“Not that I know of.”

“Then we might have just gotten super fucking lucky,” the man breathed. “Shit-damn…”

Where he lay in his cell, Ngao shivered. Or did he shiver? It could be a tremor for all he knew. Everything in his world felt so incorrect, and he couldn’t even begin to tell anyone why.

The day of his arrest, his world had become brutality and misery. The police had not been kind to him; of course they hadn’t, he was a murdererer. Even his pragmatic sensibilities knew what he had done to try and buy his family’s lifelong happiness had come at a reprehensible price. So much blood, so much more than what he’d intended to shed… when it had come time for his interrogation, it had been something of a relief to admit to his wrongdoing. Not once had he really wanted to cause harm, much less steal from someone as naïve and pleasant as Doctor Twilight. She’d only happened to be the one with the best research available that he could hand over to Umbra. When it meant that he could guarantee his family multiple generation’s worth of riches, he had to take it. For his grandchildren who still dwelled back in Vietnam, barely above squalor, he had to take the chance. Even if it damned his own soul he would do it.

But now, he felt damned.

The first day he had been booked in had been unpleasant. So many bumps and bruises, enough to make his aging bones struggle against movement. How many times had the police forced him to move along at a pace so roughshod? From his unpleasant arrest to the beating he’d received prior, the whole affair hadn’t been easy. But then had come the strangest part… Ngao had been booked into the city’s facility with multiple cuts and scars. The very next morning, none were to be found. He was given a clean bill of health by the jail’s resident medical professional, who seemed entirely unsure as to how he’d managed it.

“Did you take any prescriptions before your arrest?” The tired man had asked, a creature more aged and unhappy with his lot in life than Ngao had been.

“No.”

“Any antibiotics?”

“No.”

“Anything steroids?” the doctor pressed.

“None at all,” Ngao answered. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Nothing at all. But your mugshot records multiple scars that are completely absent on your current visage,” the man reported, even offering a mirror for his patient to see. “You should have a laceration across your arm, a swollen lip, and multiple obvious bruises. Yet, as you can see, not a single one of them is there. That is clearly going to raise questions.”

Ngao was not a skeptical man, nor did his senses lie to him. But what the medical official said to him was bizarre, his own eyes trying to reject what he saw in his reflection. If anything, Ngao found himself to look… younger. As though he’d regressed several years.

“Was I injected with something?” Ngao asked.

“You tell me,” the man said, clearly seeking some sort of response that would explain this. After years upon years of drug addicts and numerous other supplement-addicted animals, he looked upon his aging patient and expected a justification. “You certainly seem in excellent health by my standards…”

The next day had come, and Ngao had found his step practically crispy when he had entered the courthouse. His stride was strong and healthy, the weakness of his knees long departed and made whole in place of something else entirely. What a strange thing it was, to almost be half-smiling as he heard his charges. But why did he feel so light and gay compared to just the other day? His body felt more whole and itself than it had in decades, like that of a young man. He could only offer a chance to focus on it in lieu of the nightmare that was transpiring in front of him. His light countenance earned him several strikes from the uniformed officers around him, but it seemed to bother him not for very long. The man had thought he’d felt a tooth fall loose in the hours after his initial charges, a punch from a man as he’d been booked into the county detention center. But when he had gone to see his mirror that night…

“Better than new,” Ngao breathed, taking note of the canine’s pearly whiteness in comparison to its brethren. So strange, so stark… but it had felt so much better.

He took note of his physical health that night as he’d gone to bed. Better joints, better overall health, injuries were repairing swiftly… it was as though he’d turned young again. He had been so delighted with the changes that not once had it occurred to him that it might mean something was amiss.

And then came the next day. A sore day, a strange nausea in his bones that wouldn’t fade. Steps were difficult to come by, breathing a chore. In his ears was a pulsating, constant buzzing sound as though bees were in his brain. Forced into movement by county staff and fellow prisoners alike, Ngao had suffered.

“Hey old man, you need a cane or something?” Some called. “Weak-ass bitch got real cold the moment he got around real men,” jeered others. They threatened him with punishment and far worse, like sharks drawn to blood in the water. Ngao tried to rise to their threats and show his strength, but what strength he had seemed to intensify his illness.

The next day, he had felt worse. A plea for the facility’s medicinal center had somehow been granted, and all the doctor had found was an elevated pulse. Bedrest and tips on how to de-stress was all they’d been able to prescribe him. Elevated pulse? Nothing to explain the mystery of his weakness? Gods, how Ngao’s insides churned; if he could vomit, he would have. Everything felt so wrong. And still, there was that miserable buzzing that kept his world so distorted and difficult to keep balanced…

But then, there was now. And as Ngao lay on his bed, he wondered what was wrong. He could feel things ripping apart in his chest and somehow healing only an instant later. His world was distorted, upside-down and everywhere all at once. What was happening to him? How had it begun? Everything about his life felt like it was being reverted or transformed, or… or something! What was he supposed to think? He just wanted to make it stop.

“Hey! Fuck-ass! Medical wants a check-up on you.” The sound of an unfriendly voice outside his cell somehow came through the buzzing that was in his brain, Ngao barely able to move his neck over to see the burly officer outside, looking down on the man he deemed a murderer with ill regards. “Come on, get the hell up. Doc wants to see you! Looks like he thinks you’ve got some Weak Heart Syndrome.”

Ngao had wanted to respond. Say something, anything at all; truth be told, a smart remark had been in his brain. But when mouth opened to speak, he retched something horrific that swiftly became stuck in his throat. Oh gods, he was choking to death!

Perhaps his distress was something visible. Clutching, grasping at his throat, Ngao tried to pull whatever it was that had become lodged in his gullet out into the open. But his fingers couldn’t reach! Almost as if what was within him was alive, it pulled back and continued to tear, sear at his body. Panic overtook him…

“Hey, quit fucking around, you’ve got- oh, Jesus! Hey, I need this cell open!” There was a rattling of bars and then a sudden rush of mechanized movement, the feeling of hands on his body coming soon after. “Easy, you’re- you’re having a seizure! Ease back, I’m gonna take control of you for a moment. I’m putting you back on your pillow-”

Ngao tried to scream, but no sound could make it through the bile in his throat, so thick and hot that it may as well have burned his throat. The aging doctor pulled and tore at his skin, trying to give it a place to flow-

“Command, I’ve got a situation here- come on, try and breathe, try and breathe… don’t start acting crazy, let it just pass by. No-! No, don’t try and hurt yourself!”

Ngao was bleeding. Dying and being reborn in a million moments over, his whole world writhing with every second that passed. His world was afire, his body afire, everything aflame and grinding and buzzing! He reached out, trying to find something that would stop this insanity that had become the ecosystem of his human form. Everywhere did his fingers reach, looking for a place of safety that would see this torment come to an end. He couldn’t even feel the guard’s hands on his body, the attempts to quell this misery that was eating him alive. Oh gods, his body was alive and it wasn’t his body!

“Command, I’ve got an extremely elevated pulse, I think he’s having a severe seizure. I need you to talk me through what’s going on,” the guard reported to someone far away. “I’ve got- oh, fuck, something’s moving in his wrists-!”

Ngao’s eyes were only open long enough for him to register that everything in his world had changed. The darkened skin of his tropical heritage was replaced by something ashen and grey; his limbs flailed and contorted in ways that surely had to break bone, enough to wrend his body into unbelievable torture. How the skin pulsated, like waves across the ocean; colors of red and blue and white and so many others rippling beneath the pallid tide that was his own flesh.

For one last moment, he recognized that his body was not his own. And then he watched himself be lost as his own nervous system shot out from his left arm to latch onto the aiding guard’s face, all of its biological facets consumed and replaced by writhing wires.

Author's Note

And now, it really begins.

Sorry for this taking twenty-thousand forevers. It takes a bit of a different mindset for me to write this stuff. I have to like the thought of people suffering, and I deal with too much of the real thing to enjoy that much. But I think this turned out OK.

Enjoy, if you want.