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Silph Co.

"Alert the World Government," Silph said, his hands clasped in front of his mouth.

["I have already contacted them, President Silph,"] Aegis said through a speaker
in Silph's desk. She was projecting holograms that showed security footage of
the intruder. One tracked him as he moved through the second floor, walking
through corridors and rooms, while another hologram replayed the recording of
the massacre in the lobby.

["I estimate their response time to be approximately 30 minutes. It appears they
are stretched thin."]

"Very well," Silph stood up. "Brady?"

The tall, slender assistant stepped forward, hands behind his back. Despite all
the carnage, he still appeared proper.

"Is Doctor Spencer's special project complete?"
"I had him show it to me earlier, Mr. Silph. It is ready to deploy."
"Do it," Silph said. "Aegis, tell Harrock he needs to fortify the server room."
["Yes, President Silph."]

Silph swallowed but his throat was dry. He wiped his sweaty face down and
stood up from his chair. This was the first intrusion since the Rocket terrorist
group had seized control of Silph decades ago. He could only hope that Aegis
was capable of stopping it.

---

"Elizabeth," Blake said, his voice distorted by his helmet, "I want you to do
exactly as I say. We're going to head up through the elevator and get to
Katelyn. After that, I'm going to take you to Captain Harrock. You'll be safe
with him, trust me."

The woman nodded and Blake felt relief wash over him. She hadn't seen what
he'd seen through the image projected inside his visor, so he'd feared that she
would protest. Aegis was showing him footage of the intruder in real time; it
was a little rectangular, grey image just in the corner of his helmet.

["I will unlock the elevator for you, Guard Regiel, Mistress Elizabeth."] Aegis
said, her voice shifting from speaker to speaker as Blake led Elizabeth towards
the elevators.

One of them opened up as they approached and the two ran inside. Elizabeth
looked apprehensive as the doors slid shut. Blake didn't know what to say, so
he just concentrated on the number on the interior panel. Silph Co. had been
restructured over the last several years and now had over 40 storeys. Katelyn
was on floor 36.

The metal box jolted and started to ascend.

---

Bullets shot at Ratio as he raced across the corridor. He had expected vent
technology. It made no difference to him. But to the spy who had misreported
the information, it would mean everything. There were two automatic guns
mounted in the wall ahead, tracking his movements as he sped forward at an
inhuman pace.

He held his sword partway out of its sheath and radiated, creating a bubble of
force that the bullets ricocheted away from. As he sprinted past the two guns,
Ratio released the force bubble and swept his sword through the air. It discharged
a single bolt of electricity that bounced between the two guns, frying them into
useless chunks of metal.

As he turned the corner, the entryway to the staircase came into view. There
was a row of elevators next to it, and the sensors in his mask detected motion,
highlighting it with a small blue, flashing circle on his visor. His spies hadn't
been able to uncover the location of their target, so he was forced to work his
way up the tower one floor at a time.

However, if there were guards heading to a specific location, then it was possible
that they were gathering a defence team to be ready for him. He ignored the
stairs and with one swipe of his sword, he cut open the elevator doors.

He kicked the slanted halves of metal away and they fell silently down the wide
open elevator shaft before clanging on the incoming elevator.

Ratio took one step forward and dropped down.


---

Something heavy hit the roof. Elizabeth dropped back to brace herself against
the wall while Blake removed a vent gun from its holster. It was a specialised
weapon that shot out high-pressure bolts of air at a target. The weapon was
designed to be non-lethal. Guns that fired live bullets were banned by the WG
except for certain, high level security systems like the one at Silph Co.

"What was that?" Elizabeth gasped, looking at the ceiling. Blake put his hand
to her chest and forced her down low, pointing his vent gun upwards.

["The intruder is on the roof of the elevator,"] Aegis said, ["Please do not panic,
but my abilities are limited in this situation. Would you like me to stop the
elevator from moving?"]

"No," Blake said, "If you do that, we'd be sitting ducks."

Elizabeth felt Aura radiate from above. Blake didn't seem to notice it - he
didn't have any kind of Aura infusion. Elizabeth braced herself against the wall
and kicked Blake in his side. He was thrown into the wall opposite just as a
black, rectangular-looking sword stabbed through the ceiling, pointing right
where Blake was a second ago.

The guard caught himself and aimed his vent pistol at the weapon, firing off
two short bursts of air. They struck their target, which seemed to recoil,
shimmering a translucent shade of orange before withdrawing out of the roof.

A moment later, sparks exploded as the sword pierced the ceiling again, this
time carving out a semi-circle. The sword slipped back and a set of armoured
fingers busted through the gap, tearing the sheet of metal away and revealing
the intruder stood against a backdrop of speeding elevator doors and rushing
air. His cloak flapped in the intense draft.

Blake unloaded his gun, but the powerful bolts of air pressure simply bounced
off the intruder's chest plate. The intruder looked down at him, his face
completely hidden, but looking bemused all the same. He was going to kill
them both.

"Stop motion, Aegis!" Elizabeth shouted. The AI understood her intent and
slammed the breaks on the moving elevator. It threw the intruder off balance
for a second. Elizabeth took a step forward but Blake beat her to it, leaping up
through the hole.

He grappled the intruder, keeping the sword in the air, gripping hold of the
killer's wrists to stop him from using his hands. Blake was slowly forced
down, his battle armour beaten in strength by the combination of synthetic
muscle and Aura Infusion.

The intruder dropped his blade. Elizabeth watched in horror as it span around
in the air, hanging as if held up by strings, its tip pointed at the base of Blake's
back. It shot forward, stabbing through the guard's spine. The intruder kicked
off the floor the moment Blake lost his grip, leaping over the man's head as he
was sent crashing through a pair of closed elevator doors.

Cloak floating around him as he landed on the roof, the intruder held out a hand
and the sword shot back to him. He didn't even bother to look at Elizabeth
before walking intently through the broken doorway.

---

Blake gasped, blood spluttering from his mouth. He couldn't feel his legs, but
everything above that was radiating agony. He felt his skin pinch as Aegis
administered painkillers, but it was a drop in the ocean. Footsteps echoed behind
him and Blake forced himself to turn over.

Blood was already spilling from his wounds. His spine was severed, his gut
punctured. The synthetic muscle of his suit, though damaged, constricted to
stem the flow of blood, squeezing it to a dribble.

The security guard breathed shallow as the intruder walked calmly towards him,
blade ready to finish the job. Blake dragged himself back, his body feeling
heavy despite his augmented strength. His elbow slipped in the pool of his own
blood and he crashed down to the floor.

"Aegis," he grunted, teeth grit as he fought through the pain. "The elevator. Get
it moving again."

The intruder's legs filled Blake's rapidly darkening vision, his cloak like death's own.
He kept his eyes open for a moment longer, just in time to see the elevator
rise past the ruined doorway. Despite the pain, Blake forced himself to smile.

And then it all went black.

---

Elizabeth pounded her fist against the door, begging Aegis to stop, to go back.
To do anything except leave him there. She sank to her knees, head bowed.

Aegis watched her. She had a million eyes, a million ears, a million viewpoints
and mouths to speak. She could hold conversations throughout the building
with countless different people, she could control minute aspects of one thing while
solving complex problems with something else entirely.

She wasn't alive in the traditional sense of the term. She wasn't even, really, a
"she". Her voice had been programmed to resemble a human female and that
was how people regarded her. She had no true emotions other than a drive to
fulfil her purpose. If she could be content, she supposed she probably would be.

But not now. A machine couldn't truly value human life, so the loss of it here
today did little to affect her. Even Elizabeth, knelt down in despair, failed to
stir a real emotion or judgement. Her problem was this intruder. A man who,
despite her fulfilling her program, she could not subdue.

Not yet.

The elevator stopped on the 36th floor. Elizabeth looked up as the doors slid open.

["The intruder is on the floor 31,"] Aegis informed the woman, ["Please move
quickly and rendezvous with Captain Harrock."]

Elizabeth climbed to her feet, wiping tears away with her sleeve. Aegis supposed
she looked determined, although she had never seen a look quite so intense.

Aegis shifted her priority to the assistance of Elizabeth Redgrave.

((Did you earn the right to survive another week?))

Emily sat in the chair, metal helmet over her head. The slit across the front allowed her to see, to watch the idle face before her. There were no distinct features - the lips appeared to just be lips, even the eyes were drained of colors, barely recognizable shifts told her the iris' moved.

Each movement mimicked her own. The device over her head restricted her speak, she had been instructed merely to think.

This is uncomfortable.

"This is uncomfortable." The lips spoke as she thought. A man cackled in the background.

"It's a new method for information extraction," The Scientist said. It hadn't actually been new, tinier versions of the device existed all around the lab, allowing the man to keep experiments alive long past the time in which they had a body. Brains floating in fluids was all that remained.

"Without destroying the body?" Emily thought, the lips speaking for her.

"Yes, I was told we needed a way to extract information directly from the brain while allowing the promise to live to appear genuine."

"They wouldn't let anyone go", Emily thought, "they would kill them in it was over."

"Most certainly." There was a cackle to each word, like he laughed with every enunciation. "But that is not my concern. Whatever psychological tricks the soldiers wish to add to their ever growing list of torture methods is of no concern to me. I merely need to be sure that once they think it, it will be sounded out."

"And if they fight it, think about everything else?" Emily narrowed her eyes at the lips that spoke for her. It was completely unsettling.

"This isn't a replacement. They can always move to other methods to extract information."

He stepped around behind her and undid the latches, freeing her of the helmet. It rose, connected to a mechanical limb that suspended it to the ceiling. Emily sat up in her chair.

"And what of the other experiment?" Emily asked, glad to hear her own voice even if she hadn't lost it but for a few minutes.

"We'll need to wait overnight for the results," The Scientist said. He'd already moved on to another experiment, eyeing a pink liquid in a vial at his desk.

"And what's that?"

"A neurotoxin. I'll be testing it on tomorrows shipment."

Emily stepped over to the desk and eyed the copy of the request. For one fat one, one healthy one and one skinny one.

"I'm going for lunch," Emily said as she set down the copy and The Scientist laughed.

"There is food here."

"That's an arm," Emily nodded to the arm inside of a tank labeled 'Food Storage'.

"Of a man?" The Scientist laughed again, cackled in a voice that echoed through the acoustics of the room. "With no rights, he's less than a Pokemon - which I might add you do eat."

Emily cringed. She hadn't, not since she'd started working here. Emily rolled her eyes as the man moved back to his experiments, in his own little world. Surprisingly sane, she thought, for a man that cackled madly and butchered himself as much as he butchered anyone else - but he did it for fun.

Suddenly Emily's vision cut out and she tripped, hitting the floor hard. It came back, perfect as it had been when the initial process had begun. A process that was originally an excuse, to make sure she could see perfectly in the lab lest she accidentally ruin something. Emily had obliged, if only to keep up her role as his assistant until he slipped up. "This was the experiment, wasn't it?" Emily growled.

"Bridgette didn't come back with eyes." The Scientist looked over at her. "I would conclude that it is a success - it is indeed terribly inconvenient for eyes to turn off at critical moments."

Emily narrowed her eyes. "Fix it."

"Don't look at me like that," The Scientist said, pressing a button on a remote he now held.

Emily's eyesight disappeared again.

((Just checking before i post, but N is still walking away and Henrietta is having Bastion attempt to stop him, right?))

One day prior

Before the day ended one of them would have to die. The massive underground city, hidden so far underground that the World Government would never find it, generated its own electricity. Ceiling white with bright lights, given random weather patterns by Pokemon.

A fight that started half a week ago. There were many prizes, many hidden things. They'd been shipped in, a dozen of them, drugged and placed around the city. Woken up at midnight and told the terms.

Only one could survive, they could only leave when they adorned every piece of the armor, and they could defend themselves by finding weapons hidden throughout the city.

Stacy wore most of that armor now. It enhanced her, not like government armor did. This was mechanical, each piece separated so it didn't function solely as a unit. Strong but dated, one might call it. The first day they'd all been apprehensive, kids like her. Forming allies, making friends, until the day drove onward and some realized the gravity of the situation and had begun to kill. Stacy's first had been in self defense. By the end of that first night, that was no longer the case.

The boots she'd gained from an archer who had jumped from building to building, through the windows of the highest floor. She'd watched him, timed his jumps, and had cut him down mid-jump, using a fire escape to catch herself.

The arms she'd gained from a boy who had spent the second day tearing people apart with the strength it gave him. By the time Stacy found him, however, he'd hit so many people with such strength that his little hands were crushed, unable to take the strain. Broken fingers unable to bend, bones jutting out of his hands, he was bleeding to death. His expression spoke of fear but his quivering voice had asked to die. Stacy obliged.

The legs she'd gained from a boy who had begun setting traps. She found him on the third day, as he'd trapped a few more people in a mine field. She tracked his route as he set more, predicted it and cut him down as he expanded his traps.

The chest was from a boy who survived her sword slash. He'd hidden it under baggy clothing, protected himself well. So, she'd cut his throat and he died.

The girl she faced now was a sniper. On the fourth day their duel had begun - the last survivors of the battle. The girl sat on a roof top, changing position frequently, using the helmet to track signatures, using the gloves to reflexively pull the trigger at super human speeds. Stacy was curious how the girl had gotten them. Curious enough to wonder, not enough to ask.

The trap was simple, at each exit was an Electrode, ready to self destruct if anyone ever got close. To remind them of the futility of escape. Stacy sat, huddled, having spent most of the day crawling and hiding and running, until she got to where she was now. One of the outer buildings, close enough that, if she used the strength the arms gave her, she could fling an object to the Electrode, to trick it. Set it off. The distraction would be enough.

It terrified her that all her opponent needed to do was look down, to see her heat signature - if the helmet tracked that - and know where she was. She'd seen what those bullets could do, if the rifle angled down, she'd be dead in seconds.

So she acted, throwing the plate and then waiting. The couple seconds felt like agonizing minutes, but the Electrode did as she suspected - it exploded. Stacy didn't waste the only seconds she'd have, she grabbed the windows edge and hoisted herself up and over, grabbing her sword from scabbard as she looked at the girl, faced unreadable behind the helmet.

Stacy cut her down.

It was only as Stacy took the gloves and helmet from the girl that she noticed her shoulders. Dislocated and broken beyond hope of ever repairing - likely from repeated shots with the rifle. She'd just been waiting to die, in agony, using ploys to trick Stacy.

It dawned on her in that moment that the girl hadn't been waiting to find Stacy, she had likely been praying that Stacy would lose her cool, try and escape and be destroyed. The expression Stacy saw on her face was of horror, but she could imagine it seconds before Stacy appeared before her - one hopeful that she'd live to see another day.

Dropping the helmet, Stacy puked over the side of the buildings.

After that she carefully approached the exit, wearing the full gear and the Electrode rolled away to let her through. The door opened and she was hit with an incredible darkness. The visor switched to night vision and a figure approached, remote in hand.

"Congratulations," he said and then he pressed the button. The suit shocked Stacy and she fell over writhing.

The rest of the trip was a haze. She was stripped, washed and clothed. Between nightmares and waking up hazy and drugged once more, she caught only glimpses of her surroundings.

On the fifth morning she woke up in a bed, sober and out of it.

"I'm surprised," said a voice, the voice of the loud speaker that had introduced the 'game' to them, "that you slept during the trip over."

Stacy looked over at the man, aged with graying hair. It fell from the top of his head, unkempt and thin, reaching down to his shoulders in curls, twists, poofs and tangles. It littered his face, side burns, beard, mustache, making him look even older. He was, despite this, big. Muscles stretched his t-shirt - which was covered in blood - the sleeves too small, the definition of the muscle on his chest clear through it. Jeans - also covered in blood - looked worn and old. Faded from blue to white, with threads torn here and there taking small patches him it. His boots, worn but hard, looked heavy and black, frayed at the toes and exposing just a hint of metal underneath.

And then there were the scars. They covered his body, making him seem more pale than he was in the light of the room, tiny ones and large ones. A million scars to match a million battles.

"Where am I?" Stacy asked as she sat up and backed against the corner. The bed allowed for it, sitting in the corner of the room. The man smiled pleasantly, his unkempt appearance betraying his perfect posture as he rose and strode over to the bed.

"A prison." Stacy gulped. "Your parents rescued you from the World Government. If they had not informed us of who you are, we would have left you in Nimbasa City, and the World Government would have taken you by association, tortured you for information and, inevitably, killed you."

Stacy could feel her heart racing, beating against her chest as if trying to escape. She gripped the blanket close to her, feeling her nails through the material.

"I decided to make use of you. This place holds no daycare, we are not allotted that luxury. As the World Government punishes the freedom of those that oppose it, taking their freedom to have children if they are of opposing views. I see it more fit to arm the youth, prepare them for the day when the Government comes to their doors, to take them and torture and kill them. As they hit our bases, it invalidates them as safe places. So, as you have experienced first hand, I saw fit to turn you into a weapon."

"Why?" Stacy felt her voice quiver.

"Why? I just explained why, dear."

"You made me kill other people."

"Yes, well, who do you think those kids were? They'd lost parents, friends, families. They wanted to oppose the World Government, they signed up for this."

Stacy didn't believe him. The look of terror and confusion on their faces. They spoke of escape, of survival. Even as the place hardened them, they were still afraid.

"As I understand it, you have too."

"What?" Stacy asked. No, her parents were alive.

"Your parents died at the stadium."

Stacy sat shocked. The man rose. "You can hate me for what I have done, but what have I taken from you, Stacy? Innocence? Would you like to have retained it for a few hours longer, before the Government took you away, tortured and killed you? I give you the opportunity to be a weapon, to gain revenge and change the world."

Stacy whimpered when she spoke, "what if... what if I refuse?"

"Then you may leave."

Stacy didn't believe him.

"I will return you to your home. But you will die, without ever having the option for change. You may come with me, become my sword, and change the world or you can wait in your house to die. Or," he held up a finger, "you can also run, and hope that the group that monitors the whole world never catches you. Sadly, they will, and you will still die."

"So no matter what I die," Stacy said.

"No, you may endure. I will test and train you, and reforge you, and you will become strong. I will let you decide, I will give you time." He produced a knife, Stacy gulped. "I have another meeting to take care of."

The man snapped, and through the walls floated a Pokemon foreign to Stacy. "This is a Gastly."

Stacy observed it, afraid of it. However, it didn't stop her from noticing that it stayed away from the man as well, floating along the walls of the room - just as afraid of him as she was.

"Become friends, build a bond with it, and it will serve you well. I recommend starting with a name."

The man moved to the door.

"Who are you?" Stacy squeaked out, her voice a whisper. The man stopped.

"Jean-Pierre, you may call me Jean."

"Relax, TK," Wayne said, smiling as he fiddled with his Xtransceiver, "N's probably
just making all this up anyway. What would Plasma need a king for? They're an NGO."

((Ah, I totally missed the last Entralink post. Sorry! sweatdrop ))

Entralink Base

Jacqueline wrinkled her nose at the way Jump was acting. "It was just a turn of
phrase, Jump."

She looked away. This job had killed her mother; the weight of it had finally proven
too much and she snapped. People died to their line of work. How naive was Jump
if he thought 'the rest of their lives' meant dying of old age?

"Besides..." she said quietly, "In our line of work, we're probably going to die
sooner, rather than later. Getting old isn't really a big issue for me."

If Norbert hadn't been fast enough, Robby's voice would come from close behind. Henrietta's voice was echoing around them, and he would speak almost as soon as it ended.

"She's right Norbert." He would say calmly, looking at the green haired trainer. He would intend to at least keep pace, not close the distance, but keep it at what it was.

"Ya don' dine 'n dash on friends."