Chapter 15
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Fourth Month, Nineteenth Day, Celestial Calendar
As the hours had ticked on and on, Fyrenn had noticed a gradual change in the terrain below. Mile by mile the forests and fields of Equestria, and snow-capped mountaintops belonging to the Minotaurs, had fallen away into rocky crags and desolate canyons.
Since the sun had begun to set several hour previous, the only visible terrain features had been comprised of either rock, or crystal. Not a single plant or animal stirred in the dying rays of the evening's light.
Fyrenn rocked slightly, dipping first one wing and then the other, to waken Skye. The Unicorn had been quietly snoring since noon, and the Gryphon had let her have her rest. Having more or less arrived at their destination, he decided that an extra pair of eyes, and her razor sharp intellect, would soon be beneficial to their task.
Skye yawned, tried to stretch, and was forced to scramble to avoid falling off of Fyrenn's back, "Sorry!"
Fyrenn snorted, "What? Forget you were on the road? Err... Wing?"
The Unicorn snorted, "Not that your feathers aren't soft and all... But I'd really rather get my shuteye on a surface that isn't moving through their air constantly."
Carradan snorted, "You got no room to complain. You *got* to sleep. Some of us actually have to move muscles to get places!"
Kephic grinned, "Yes, but look at it this way; The more you work, the more buff you get. The more buff you get, the better chances you have with the mares."
IJ glowered up at the speckled Gryphon from her position at the bottom of the formation, "*Don't* encourage him."
Varan grunted, and gestured down to the sharp spires of granite below, "I hate to intrude, but I see nothing resembling an army down there. Unless the invasion involves battalions of eroded mineral formations."
Fyrenn turned his eyes to follow his brother's talon, and exhaled, "It is very quiet down there," he glanced over to IJ and raised an eyebrow, "How close are we?"
IJ squinted, looking concerned as her ears flattened slightly, "Very. The entrance to the Hive is just there..." The Pegasus motioned with a hoof towards an unassuming outcropping of shale.
Kephic whistled, "That's exceptionally well hidden."
Skye shifted uncomfortably, "So why no soldiers? Shouldn't this canyon be swarming with Drones?"
Fyrenn cocked his head, "In theory anyways. I don't like this. I do not like this one little bit."
Kephic shot a questioning glance at IJ, "Any chance the message was some sort of diversion? Or the time scale was off, and the attack isn't supposed to happen yet?"
The ex-Changeling's glare was more than answer enough.
Varan growled deep in his throat and chest, "We are not entirely alone. I believe there are at least two sentries below us."
Fyrenn glanced over his shoulder at Skye, "You think you can conjure that disruption spell of yours while in motion?"
The unicorn's eyes widened, and she fixed her friend with a suspicious glare, "Yyyyeesss? Why?"
The Red Gryphon smirked, "I'm thinking we should try the 'direct approach.' "
Kephic chuckled, "Ah yes. My favorite way to make new friends."
Noting IJ's confused expression, Carradan leaned in and spoke in a mock stage whisper, "By, 'make friends,' he really means, 'make bloody smears on the wall.' "
The white Pegasus merely responded by rolling her eyes.
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
March 18th, Gregorian Calendar
"Has he said anything?" Hutch tipped back his thermos, then shot a questioning glance at Taranis, flicking his eyes briefly towards the prisoner; Aland Triff.
The Dragon responded with a silent shake of his enormous plated head, "Nothing besides expressing a deep desire to retain all his limbs intact, and a feeble demand for legal counsel."
The General took another sip of his coffee, then shrugged, "Alright then. This shouldn't take long."
Taranis inclined his head slightly, "*You* intend to handle the interrogation?"
Hutch smirked and rolled his eyes, "Please. Just because I don't breathe fire doesn't mean I don't know how to put the fear of God into some thug on the other side of a steel table." He strode to the door, and paused, glancing over one shoulder, "Besides, this rat enabled terrorists to kill innocent people on my doorstep. I'm not shy about personally returning favors."
Taranis stepped to the one-way window and watched, with a detached interest, as Hutch entered the interrogation room. As he took his seat, with almost casual nonchalance, Klarien entered through the observation room's secondary access.
The Green Dragon paused, and raised one scale above his left eye, "Did I miss something?"
"No. But I suspect you won't want to miss what follows." Taranis pointed to the observation window with a single claw, and the two reptiles shuffled as close as they could, to get a view of the room beyond.
Hutch pulled a small container from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, and upended the contents onto the table. The small black objects rattled against the steel, and their plastic-like smooth surfaces gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lighting.
Triff squinted down at the small ring-like articles, before looking back up at Hutch, "Are these supposed to prove something? I want my *lawyer.* I have rights..."
The General dipped his head towards the mystery objects, "Go ahead. Take a closer look."
The accused man picked up one of the rings of material, and fingered it briefly, holding it up to the light, "So?"
"So the way I see it, you get one life sentence for each. That's four consecutive one hundred and ten year periods, incase you missed it."
Triff raised an eyebrow, and held up the object clutched between his thumb and forefinger, "For a couple of bomb fragments that you can't tie to me?"
Hutch took a deep draught of his thermos, speaking just before he did so, "Finger fragments actually."
It took Aland a full two seconds to comprehend the words. Once the reality of what he was touching dawned on him, he fumbled wildly, and dropped the bone back onto the table, shivering in revulsion, "GEEEZ!"
The General lashed out with his right fist, slamming Triff's shaking hand down on top of the bone, and then applying a constant pressure. His voice was calm, but laden with an obvious disdain, and controlled fury, "We have proof that you sold the HLF classified microcomputer devices that were then used as components of an IED. You're facing charges of terrorism, treason, disseminating classified information, theft, industrial espionage..."
Hutch sat back and folded his arms, "You're in a *world* of shit son."
Triff rubbed his bruised hand, and glowered sullenly, "You can't prove even one of these assertions. You arrested me just because I worked on the factory floor the chips were stolen from, and decided to get a drink at a bar you didn't like. You're going to lose *your* head over this. *I'm* going to go back to my job; And I'm going to bring civil charges against your unit."
Hutch began to chuckle. Triff tilted his head in confusion, and in response the General held up a hand, and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, "No no... You're right. We don't have enough evidence to convict you in an Earthgov court. But you're going to plead guilty to the lesser charges anyways."
Aland snorted, "And why would I do that? Whatcha gonna do? Break my knuckles?"
The General tilted his head back and forth, as if considering the offer, "As tempting as that sounds? No. I'm just going to sign this." He snapped his fingers above the table, and a holographic interface appeared, displaying a short official looking document.
Triff leaned forward to read it, as Hutch continued to speak, "Here's a fun fact you may not be aware of. Bureaus are considered partially the sovereign territory of all the species involved in the Conversion Accords. Now I'm sure you remember those two fine scaly gentlemen who initially arrested you? Well it turns out that your mere presence in a known HLF establishment is enough evidence to convict you by *Draconic* law."
Aland sat back and raised an eyebrow, "I'm an Earthgov citizen. I don't give a rat's ass what their laws say."
Hutch chuckled, "Oh, well you should. You see this document is an extradition order. I'm going to sign it, and you're going to be remanded into their custody. By the time any legal action is taken against me on your behalf, they will be punishing you according to the dictates of their laws, that you seem so very nonchalant about. Do you know what Dragons do to enemies who commit terror attacks on their soil?"
The General reached out with both hands, snagging Triff's left hand in a firm grip, and a finger bone in the other. He pressed the charred and blackened object into Triff's hand, and grinned, "By the time they're finished with you? This is all that'll be left. For genetic identification purposes, and such."
Hutch rose and made his way to the door. As he pressed his thumb to the exit control, allowing it to sample his DNA to disengage the lock, he glanced over his shoulder, "I guarantee you though, whatever they do to you won't be nearly as quick as what your bombs did to those fingers. Dragons prefer their food slow-roast. Can I get you anything for your last meal? We have lots of nice fresh Equestrian produce in the kitchens---"
"ALRIGHT!" Triff slammed his fist into the table, and took a deep shaking breath, "Alright. I'll tell you everything I know."
The General stepped calmly back to the table, and tapped its surface with his index finger, "And you'll plead guilty to the charges of industrial espionage, and theft. Ten years in max-sec lockup without parole. You give us what we want, you serve time, safe and sound from any of your former comrades I might add... And you stay in one room-temperature piece. I'll even throw in the fresh high-class meal to boot. Deal?"
Triff nodded morosely. Hutch smiled, and sat down in his chair once more, "Good choice. How about we start with your contact in the HLF."
April glanced up at the concrete girders and sighed as a maglev whisked by overhead, it's bright halogen headlights sliced through the midnight drizzle as though they were solid gleaming blades of luminescence. She allowed herself a brief moment to fantasize about stepping onto one of those trains and trying to make an escape.
The desire passed almost as quickly as it came. When the first evacuation orders had hit in lower Manhattan, she and Sonya had tried to make an exit in the confusion and hustle. But the spikes betrayed them.
The nanites that saturating their blood, produced by the array of metallic objects buried in their spines, were infallible tracing beacons. Sonya had the scars to prove it. The men in armor had stopped the train before it even made it to the city limits. Then they had gunned down everyone else onboard.
The sisters had barely escaped with their lives, and Sonya had nearly lost an arm.
April knew they were in no danger of being caught by the bubble. They were too valuable to their handlers to be left to die. Yet, she grimly reflected as she picked the lock on the container in front of her, not so valuable as to be left unmolested.
When she had been younger, she hadn't understood why those who commanded them were always pursuing them, and were even willing to kill them if they failed to escape. Then she had been spiked, and it began to make sense.
Using the spikes was not something that could be taught. It had to be intuited. Fear, it seemed, was the strongest and fastest motivator to induce the brain to achieve proficiency. April had seen others her age who had failed to learn the spikes. Sometimes their corpses contained useful resources. Money, food, water.
Sometimes resources were harder to come by, and more drastic action was needed. Sonya had found a container yard several days prior. It had been setup as part of the evacuation efforts in midtown.
April and her sister had returned under cover of darkness to discover that some of the enormous metal boxes contained relief provisions. She finished picking the lock, a trivial exercise, and swung open the container's main doors, gesturing to Sonya, who was hiding in the shadows of the next container over filling the role of lookout.
The pair darted inside the ten meter long steel crate, and found themselves facing row upon row of packaged dry goods;
Non-perishable food, water purification tablets, and medical kits.
Sonya grinned, "Perfect!"
April hefted a small trauma care package, "We should take as many of these as we can carry. Food and water are easier to find..."
"Riiiight. Meds and stims, less so." Sonya pulled the pack from her shoulders, opened the top flap, and began to rapidly sweep medkits into the empty space with her left arm.
April shifted uncomfortably as she picked through the food and water supplies, "Are you sure we should be doing this? It's not as if this stuff is just lying around... There are evacuees that need it too."
Sonya snorted, "There's a million of them, and only two of us. Besides, dontcha think the high and mighty government can afford to replace what little bit we need to keep going? They produce this stuff twice as fast as people could ever consume it, even in the worst case."
April sighed and hefted a packet of iodine tablets, "Do you think they're all like the ones who chase us?"
"No. Worse." Sonya finished with her pack, snapped the lid shut with an angry finality, and moved to help her sister sort through the foodstuffs, "They're willfully blind. They know that some of their underlings do horrible things to innocent people, and they let it pass because in the end we're 'useful' to them. They choose deliberately to know nothing about us, except that somewhere, somehow, an 'asset' exists that does a job as part of the great machine of 'progress.' "
"Where do you suppose they'll send us when Manhattan is swallowed?" April made a dour expression, and kicked over a small stack of food packets in a combination of disgust, and frustration that spilled over into her tone.
Sonya shrugged, "Another big city. Maybe Vancouver, or San Francisco."
April sighed, sank to the floor, and hugged her knees, "How do they keep finding us? Do they track the nanomachines with communication towers maybe? Do you think---"
Her sister held up a hand, "Don't get your hopes up kiddo. This is Earthgov we're talking about. Each of us probably has a dedicated personal SatVision on-orbit that does nothing but keep a close watch on our every move and vital signs. Unless you can figure some way to get the nanites out of our blood entirely, the most we can do is keep running and keep living."
April glanced up and tilted her head, "There's always potion, right? "
Sonya nodded, and smiled wanly, "When you're old enough? Yeah."
"But nine years is a long tiiiiime! Can't we get some off the street?" April's lip jutted out, and she injected as much pout into her whine as possible. She knew that it was a losing battle. She and Sonya had the same conversation on an almost monthly basis, and it always ended the same way.
Her older sister shook her head vehemently, "Nothing has changed since the last time we went over this April. Conversion doesn't work like that. Without proper treatment the Potion will do to us what it did to Simon."
April sighed, hugged her knees close once more, and wiped away a small tear from her right eye. For almost a year, Simon had been a friend to them both, and travelled with them all over the city. He was kind, selfless, and secretly she decided he had been in love with Sonya.
The three had decided on a plan to escape their tormentors, by taking illicit street potion distributed by the PER. Simon had volunteered to go first to test the process.
Sonya and April had been forced to watch as the nanites produced by his spikes fought against the nanites in the Conversion serum, and vice versa. In the end his body had liquefied to base carbons before the serum could overpower the spikes, and finish taking effect. Simon had died in agony. Just another in a string of innocent people who had suffered trying to help the sisters.
They had sworn an oath afterwards; Never again would they allow another to sacrifice on their behalf.
Sonya leaned against the container wall, then slid down into a sitting position beside her sibling, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders, "Hey. Look at it this way sis; You've survived with me this long. We can make it through nine more years. The day you turn eighteen? We'll march right into the nearest Bureau and get treated and Converted on the spot."
The plan was a long shot, but it was all the sisters had. The ACACIA law had lowered the minimum age of Conversion consent to eighteen, assuming the Bureau didn't ask too many questions about why the siblings needed augmentation removal treatment pre-Conversion, they had a small chance of actually managing to go through with it before their captors could intuit what was actually happening.
Once free of the spikes, and the nanites, they would be able to cross over to Equestria. The word itself had come to be synonymous with Heaven for Sonya and April. The fabled Elysium Fields. Eden unspoiled. A place where their captors could never hope to follow them.
A place where they could be free.
"Think about this," Sonya smiled down at April, clapping her on the shoulder, "Eighteen is really young for a Pony! We'll have a long, long, long time to forget all this. After a decade? It'll all seem like nothing more than a bad dream."
Sonya stood, and pulled April to her feet, "We'll get there."
April forced a smile, "Promise?"
"I promise."
The pair swiftly filled April's pack with an even mixture of food, and water purification supplies, before making one final survey of the container's interior to ensure there was nothing else worth taking.
As the siblings exited back out into the Manhattan drizzle, Sonya glanced over her shoulder, "I thought I saw a cooking equipment label on one of the smaller containers, maybe we should---"
To April's confusion and dismay, her sister froze mid-sentence. The next telltale warning sign appeared too late for April to take any action. She could already feel the tingle beginning in her own spine.
The sensation was all to familiar, like a limb going to sleep, but over the entire body; Skin, bones, and muscles alike. April froze, unable to move anything except her eyes. All other muscles save her heart, and lungs, were locked down by her own nanites.
A hologram appeared over Sonya's back displaying the word 'LOCKED' prominently, much like the hologram April knew to be hovering over her own back.
she could feel the exterior plating of her spikes irising outwards into maintenance mode, a process she could see occurring on her sister's back. A blue glow emanated from her spine, and there was a disconcerting ripple of movement under her shirt as the protective plates opened, granting access to the spikes for repair or upgrade purposes.
"Girls. I hope you're having a pleasant evening..." The voice, like the horrifying sensation of nightmarish immobility, was familiar. Sonya and April knew their 'handler' only by his codename. 'Minos.'
The man stepped from the shadows beside the container, grinning wickedly. The rain gave his unmarked black armor a reflective aspect, matched by the oily dampness of his dark hair. He was young, likely no more than thirty years old, and he held a small DaTab that had complete control over the sisters' nanites.
Aside from that, the only other fact they knew about him was that he was their immediate superior, and responsible for the soldiers that chased them.
He always met them alone, and unannounced. He seemed to feel no need for guards of re-enforcements of any kind, and why should he?
No matter how hard Sonya and April tried, they could never budge so much as an inch in 'lockdown mode.' The nanites that filled their bodies were physically blocking all neurochemical impulses to their muscles.
Minos strode out to stand between the siblings slowly, his smile widening.
"Well well well! I see you two have picked up a new bad habit." He clucked softly, and stepped in close to Sonya, brushing his hand against her hair in a sick imitation of affection, "Girls your age shouldn't be stealing. You're setting a bad precedent."
He slowly extracted the backpack from Sonya's shoulders, then stepped over to April, and did the same, shouldering both packs himself, "I am impressed with the lockpicking job though..." He stepped over to the container, and pushed the doors closed casually, resetting the magnetic lock with a tap of the keypad, "But as of now you have other concerns, and we have need of you more... 'Tactical' skills."
Minos finished with the container, and made his way back to stand between the sisters. He pulled a second DaTab from a pouch on his belt, held it up and wiggled it for emphasis, then dropped it to the pavement. It was clearly a hardened military model, and suffered nothing from the impact, nor the dampness.
The man glanced from sibling to sibling, "We'll be sending you orders on that within the next few days. I don't suppose I need to remind you what happens if you fail to follow those instructions, but what the hell eh? I want to be able to sleep well tonight, and I figure you need the reminder, since you've already shown a willingness to steal."
He leaned in close to April, his hot breath pushing up against the skin of her face and triggering a maddening flight response in her brain, "If you fail to follow orders? My men will stop playing 'hide and seek' with you, and start playing 'whack-a-bitch.' I have not specified which of you should die first, but one of you *will* be forced to watch while they have their fun with the other... And they're an imaginative lot if I do say so myself."
Minos leaned back, smiled, and held his hands up above his head in a gesture of subtle contempt, "Do your job, or lose your value. It's that simple."
As he moved back towards the shadows, he tossed a final sentence over one shoulder, "And don't think about breaking into any more containers. My men will be here in less than five minutes. Your lockdown will rescind in four. You're going to have a very busy night."
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Fourth Month, Nineteenth Day, Celestial Calendar
"Hello there!"
The sentry drones whirled to behold the last sight either of them expected; A speckled black and white Gryphon, striding jovially out from behind a rock cropping, a smile plastered to his beak.
The drones tensed, and readied their wings, crouching forward into a combat pouncing stance. Both tried, simultaneously, to raise their voices within the Hive to sound the alarm, only to find that they were abruptly cut off by a sharp pang of head pain. The constant thrum of the Hive vanished, and it was only then that they realized they had made a grave mistake.
Kephic snorted, "Funny thing isn't it? Magic. Another funny thing? At least I find it funny. Creatures that live in a Hive are reliant on it. Take that away..." The Gryphon's grin changed from jovial, to predatory in one terrifying smooth second of transition, as he drew his glittering sword, "...And you lot aren't quite so good at the whole 'staying alive' thing."
The lead drone hissed, his fangs glittering in the sunset, "Two of us. One of you. Foolish Gryphon."
Kephic tapped the side of his head with his free claw, "Gryphons can't cast magic. Where did the disruption spell come from?"
As the drones' eyes widened in sudden recognition of their plight, Fyrenn descended from above, claws outstretched. The surprise attack robbed the lead drone of any chance at survival whatsoever. Changelings were strong and durable, but not immune to a crushing all out assault.
The armored being put up a valiant resistance, but most of his internal organs had been crushed when Fyrenn stooped onto him, his weight augmented by the mass of Skye clinging to his back, and projected forward into his fisted claws.
In the end, the Gryphon was too swift to his task for the drone to have any chance at regenerating, or escaping the crushing grip of the avian's claws.
The second drone turned to bolt, doubtless hoping to warn the Hive of intruders, but found his way abruptly blocked by Varan and Carradan. The former tapped his mace against one claw, "My brothers are very good shots. You could try to fly..."
Carradan inclined his head, "...Buuuut you'd also have a long way to fall. Cry uncle?"
The drone squinted in confusion. Kephic tapped him on the shoulder, and smiled as his chitinous head whirled in surprise, "Means 'do you surrender?' "
The drone hissed, and backed away towards a defensible corner of craggy stone. Fyrenn shrugged, "Guess that means no."
"You should have really taken them up on that." The drone didn't even have time to turn fully, before IJ's back hooves connected firmly with his skull.
As the drone collapsed, Fyrenn whistled, "That was quite a shot..."
IJ raised her left eyebrow, "I knew precisely where to aim."
The red Gryphon shrugged, "Touché."
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
March 18th, Gregorian Calendar
"I don't suppose anyone can tell me why we're actually here? Seems like a fat waste of time to me..." The Blue Ridge's tactical officer slumped into his seat, and raised an eyebrow.
The LCA's entire senior staff had been requested to gather in the vessel's conference room to await a JRSF envoy. The chamber was more well appointed than its counterpart on older naval vessels, sporting actual carpeting and a faux-oak main table. The ceiling was pleasantly arched, and the space was well lit overall.
The captain glared, "You know why we're here. The JRSF asked, we answered. It's what we're here for. For the duration of the mission, I need not remind you. My advice to you? Can the attitude and stow it where no one will see. 'Envoy' in this case probably means non-Human, which means you could end up breathing out of your colon if you mouth off."
"I prefer making my holes between the eyes. But it's really a matter of personal touch." All heads turned as Neyla's voice filled the room. The tactical officer blanched momentarily, before realizing that she was being darkly humorous. He chuckled sheepishly.
Behind the Gryphoness, General Sorven entered the room, a DaTab clutched under one arm, "Ladies and gentlemen. Captain. Time is short, so I'll make this simple," The General strode to the front of the room, set down the DaTab, and crosslinked it smoothly to the main screen.
"This," she gestured as a map appeared, "Is an HLF compound. We found it by running analytics on military and civilian shipping manifests with a unique proprietary JRSF AI. For obvious reasons, a facility of this size inside the city is a serious concern given the guest we expect to have here within the week."
Neyla nodded, "In short; We can not allow this facility to continue to exist. We're going to wipe it off the face of the planet."
Sorven tapped the main screen with one finger, "Unfortunately, we don't have the luxury of simply bombing the complex.
The location was carefully chosen to make it all but impossible to use heavy weapons, a drone-strike, or Draconic assets, without causing extreme collateral damage to nearby apartment complexes."
The Gryphoness moved to stand beside the General, "As such, this will be a precision boots-on-ground strike. Our forces are stretched thin, and we will be in need of tactical support by way of light air vehicles, troops, and AI processing power, from the Blue Ridge."
The Captain nodded, "That's what we're here for. Action plan?" The rest of the senior staff shifted subtly, straightening and leaning forward.
Neyla grinned, "I'm so glad you asked..."
Earth Calendar: 2117
Equestrian Calendar: 15 AC (After Contact)
Fourth Month, Nineteenth Day, Celestial Calendar
"This... Is a categorically bad idea." Skye glowered down at the tiny air shaft, which was little more than a well disguised irregular hole cut into the side of a razor-sharp rock spire.
Fyrenn winced, "I'm not one to shy away from dangerous pastimes... But I have to agree wholeheartedly. This is a *bad* idea. Unfortunately it is also the only way into the hive."
Varan nodded sagely, "We have little choice, save to enter unseen and see this supposed invasion force for ourselves."
Carradan grimaced, "Is it too late to cast a vote of 'neigh?' "
IJ responded by jamming her right hoof into his side, knocking the wind out of him. The salmon Pegasus coughed, managing to wheeze out the words, "Geez! The pun wasn't *that* bad was it?!"
IJ narrowed her eyes, "That was meant to be humorous?"
Fyrenn groaned, " 'Neigh.' Pony. *Meant* to be humorous... Not especially so in practice."
The white Pegasus shifted her glare back to Carradan, and delivered another jab with her hoof. Carradan collapsed onto his side in a wheezing fit of equal parts pain, and laughter, "I think..." He coughed for several seconds before regaining partial control of his breathing, "...I think she likes me."
As Fyrenn stepped over his groaning companion towards the airshaft, he smirked, "I warned you about this Stan. Anything seriously injured?"
The Pegasus grinned, and wobbled back to his hooves, "Just my pride."
Kephic gestured down the rough rock tube, "Remember; After we're inside, *absolute* silence."
Varan nodded in agreement, "We enter, we reconnoiter, we leave as soon and as silently as possible."
As the Gryphons began to clamber down the air shaft, one by one, Skye sighed, and cast a wan look at Carradan and IJ, "Brace yourselves. Nothing ever goes exactly according to plan in a place this creepy."
IJ raised an eyebrow once more, "For once? We are in complete agreement."
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Why can I only like once!?
2961934
You could always make another account and like twice.
2961934
2963513
I don't advise that.
It is a generally frowned-upon practice by the administrators.
mweeeheeheehee... Now that I've caught up on my reading... oh Neyla... so scary. So utterly, utterly scary...
... and I'm not sure who I'm interested in more as a 'squad', Fyrenn and crew, Neyla and Sorven, or Sonya and April.
Speaking of the last, their handler gives off Albert Wesker vibes. Maybe I've been watching too many Resident Evil movies...
*She
And so we learn that their handler is named Minos. Husband to the Minotaur's mother, enslaver of Icarus and Daedalus, and adjudicator of the final resting place for all of hell's souls. That's a name steeped in meaning.
3040919
Let's just say he's 'a very bad man.' And the image of him as an enslaver, overseer of hell, and master of a maze, is a very apt one.
3604064
My thoughts exactly!
Is it bad I found it funny how Hutch "accidentally" failed to mention that Triff was going to Rikers Island?
8837345
Honestly, might should have just let himself get roasted. The pain would have been over faster. Slightly.