Over the next few hours, we were left mostly to ourselves; a time the other aliens used to talk amongst each other. I, however, asked the sectoid to leave me out of the psionic communications, for now, I needed to think. Without a doubt, it would not have been as easy as just staying put, despite the hope that our situation was sympathetic, the humans had already proven we were expendable, which was more than a little mind-occupying.

We surrendered, yes, but they had still shot and killed. Granted, Advent never taught us what the rules of surrender would be, so my only hint that it could work was the numerous times resistance had given up in fights against us. We restrained them, didn't hurt them beyond necessity, then shipped them off in the unmarked vehicles, to be interrogated in the next closest city.

But...had I ever seen these humans again?

Perhaps they were imprisoned, used as labor forces, turned into faceless troopers, or just killed. All possibilities, and with them came regret. Regret about complacency, about not having struggled; could I have? Had I just gone along with them for over a decade, did the psionic commands force me to obey, or did I just not want to fight it?

Regardless of any horrifying realization about the hurt and pain I had caused under Advent, I couldn't help but slowly letting my body relax against the floor. I coiled beneath myself and let my view wander around the tent aimlessly. Thinking, just thinking was how I spent the evening; self-reflection, speculating about the future, remembering the past. I sunk deep within the wonders of contemplative thought, dialogues in no language, weaving new nets of logical conclusion, associating old events with newfound emotion, and drawing out elaborate theories about the future.

Immediately, as the tent flaps slid to the side, revealing the moonlight behind four humanoid figures, I broke the latest train of thought. Instead of being alone this time, the scientist had three of the armored agents with her. For a moment, I expected to become riddled with bullets, that they would simply execute us on the spot, but their weapons remained at their sides. Still, my full attention was directed to them, while my muscles were beginning to tingle. The woman approached me once again, it seemed like I had accidentally made myself the representative of our group.

"We're relocating you. Keep still and keep quiet," the woman addressed us coldly.

The men approached, their bulky frames puffed up, even more with heavy ballistic padding. I had not seen Xcom uniforms like this, they also lacked the signifying badge on their arm. They handled me very roughly, pulling at my restraints unnecessarily hard, attaching me to a long line, which they fastened to each one of our shackles. We now had a piece of the high-density rope connecting each of us, so that, unless we all did at the same time, no one could move far. One agent to each side, one at the back, and the scientist at the front.

Painfully slow, our group was forced from the tent and out into the open. Despite the high risen moon, the camp's residents and Xcom agents were wide awake and active. The cloudy sky provided the long, abyssal shadows, with the occasional flicker of the half-plate. The deep dark of the incoming sky smelled of rain, which would assist the humans in their efforts at minimizing the damage we had caused.

Carrying water buckets from a well, they rushed to the outer edges, clearing the final bit of flames and embers, that still highlighted the distant ruined buildings and fields.

But as soon as our escorted arrival was noticed, everyone stopped in their tracks. Many dozens of eyes laid on of, shifting between us frantically. They felt scrutinizing, judgmental, and simply uncomfortable, but we weren't allowed to seek cover or avoid them. Some of us looked at the floor, others accidentally locked ourselves into eye contact, but I couldn't stop gazing into the glowing sky. Earth's moon was nothing short of fascinating, drawing my vision onto the lunar body.

"You're gonna fucking die, you hear me, you will die before the sun is up!" A bitter and deeply hateful voice cried out, ripping me from my gazing.

"Why keep these monsters around at all, what are they useful for?" A woman addressed the scientist to the front.

"That is not up to us, tomorrow is when their fate is to be decided," she responded matter-of-factly.

Without slowing, we passed the woman. Her arm was hanging in a bandaged strap, while she rested against crutches. She took a limping step out of the way for us, which I thought was somewhat considerate before she spat at the ground next to me. I flinched at the globules of spit and the expression of utter hatred, as she began limping away.

Similar exclamations of discontent about our status as alive were voiced all along the upper circle until our journey ended in the town's center. A wooden structure with a triangle-shaped roof, which rose even above the closely parked hovercraft. Wide, swinging doors laid open and allowed me to peek inside.

Overthrown tables, shattered glass, blood splatter in the corner, and a series of cages propped against the back wall. I could smell the animals that used to be kept in the steel configurations, but it looked as if they had been somewhat cleaned. Still, the positioning of the contraptions, the threat of hurt and death, and the scent of fear radiating from the humans, all served to unsettle me.

The doors had been opened and we were promptly shoved inside. Two sectoids fit into a single cage, while the three mutons and five vipers (including me) were all separated due to size. I doubted that the bars could have held back a raging muton or the full power of our tail, but it would not go down quietly. The rope around our hands was taken back, leaving indentations that would have bruised if my body would allow such a reaction.

I coiled my tail around the entire floor, then overtop myself. The cage was small and I was on the larger side of my species. But I came to rest eventually, despite the uncomfortable tightness.

"This will be your residence until the commander decides what to do with you," the scientist looked us over.

Again, I could not speak to her in English, since I was tightly muzzled.

"For tonight, you shouldn't expect any more disturbances, I recommend you get some sleep," she concluded and turned on the heel.

She, along with her soldiers, began to filter out, after locking the cages with a solid metal key. Finally alone again, the atmosphere of the interior could settle in on us. Lit by open torch fire, much like the rest of this camp, the orange lighting flickered and shifted, drawing stretching shadowy shapes against the planks. Along the support beams were decorative pieces of cut paper, in shapes of stars, birds, and what I assumed were humans.

Eventually, with the small spattering of rain outside, came a growling within my stomach. Another new sensation, that of thirst and hunger. Back in Advent, we had strict routines, that we followed without thought, including cleaning, resting, feeding, and watering. But now that we were no longer being directed in our every move, we had to take care of these basic needs. The only problem, the humans never gave us food or water. And, thanks to our collective mouth restraints, we couldn't even voice the complaint to the guards.

Despite the unnerving dryness in my mouth and emptiness in my stomach, the soft drumbeat of the rain, that increased and softened periodically, lulled a soft melody into my mind. I suppose it was the first time I had actually listened for this kind of thing, a rhythm in nature, calmness in wether. Without my conscious observing, my tail even began to wiggle in unison, a process I observed with a fascinated expression. My body moving on its own, my mind being soothed, all this was simply fun to let happen.

Noticing that my sisters had already coiled up to sleep, I figured getting the most amount of rest necessary was important, no matter what would happen the next day. It was cold in the metal cage, but tightening around myself, until I had enveloped myself entirely, was comforting. The repeating rhythm of rainfall and distant thunder eventually made it possible to close my eyes and embrace my first true night of sleep.

I call it my first because whatever happened to us in the rejuvenation pods, was anything but restful sleep. Simple unconsciousness, a lack of mental presence, even less than the subdued state we were already in. We were deactivated. Now, if that was because biological units needed at least six hours of rest to maintain regular health, or if it was another way to keep us in line with a rigid routine, I do not know. But I can tell you, that this was the best night of sleep I had ever had up until that moment; despite its events.

I found myself awaking on soft ground. Slowly, I rose from my coils and unfurled. The constraining cramped space of the cage was gone and I stretch to my full length while taking in the unclear visuals around me. I was in a pine forest, the colors, the soft and mossy underground, and the slightly sweet smell betrayed it as such, but I could barely think. This strange sensation of being comforted by nature, of safety in this reality, overcame me.

I rested for a time, my scales gently shuffling against fallen pines and soft moss. I think the sun was above me, or at least I felt warm rays dancing across my patterns. I let my hood extend all the way and stretched my jaw wide. The fangs in the roof of my mouth pulled out of their sheath and my tongue collected chemicals, that reinforced my assessment of location.

Still, this was a dream. And dreams follow strange logic or none at all, that much I understand now.

I could not have questioned the reason behind my body beginning to move, getting lower to the ground, and slowing my breath, at that moment. Suddenly, the entire atmosphere seemed different, darker, colder: the colors were more muted, while sounds and sensations began to feel less pleasant. Thorns caught my scales, not piercing, simply giving sharp pressure. Still, I continued. My body slithered low to the ground, past high-reaching bushes, which seemed never-ending.

Soon, my pace slowed considerably. Instead of a hasty slither through thorns that couldn't hope to pierce my scales, I felt small punctures and scratches against my body. Somehow, they got in between my armored hide, tearing into my flesh. At first, it didn't hurt, it was simply an irritating sensation, amplified by cold winds brushing against my exposed, bloody flesh. But it didn't take long, before I felt it tugging more sharply, tearing wider fissures into my tail, clutching onto anything that stuck out.

With the increase in intensity, my body responded in trying to push through the field of thorny bushes, that looked like it was stretching past infinity. Instead of a slow and deliberate slither, I propelled myself onward with my tail, trying to burst through the fauna. But the harder I struggled, the more tiny teeth dug into me, deeper and ripping off patches of scales. I shook and scratched at the vines, that looked as if they were trying to eat me alive, but failed to tear the plants.

My swings felt weak and exhausting to perform, my breathing turned into panicked panting, while I twisted and turned in an increasingly desperate attempt at freedom. But with each struggle, with every pull, the vines grew larger, gained more teeth, became more numerous. Needless to say, my mind raced with terror, as the green bushes crept closer, wrapping around my arms, then wrists, before somehow clutching around my torso. I wiggled once more, but my strength failed me.

"Help!" I managed to whimper out, as I saw the encroaching vine, slithering like a tentacle, slowly make its way along my stomach and to my face.

I tried to pull my head away, keep my face as far from the green tentacle as possible, but it was futile. My entire body had been fixed in place, only my neck, fingers, and tail tip remained moveable. The brownish thorny teeth raked across my neck, before snapping around my snout in an instant. It started as simple muzzling, but the entire construct began constricting, pulling, and digging into my body all at once.

I yelped in pain and fear, feeling the hundreds of thousands of tiny incisions through my scales. Yet I could not scream. The vine around my snout pulled tightly and I watched in horror it constricting tightly while feeling it tear apart my jaw and neck. I writhed and fought, pushing through the burning exhaustion of my muscles, but it was all in vain. I felt my blood running all over my body, smelled, and tasted it, too. The hundreds of cuts laid exposed to the unrelenting cold wind, digging its way into my flesh, stealing my strength, robbing me of my heat...

"Sister," it sounded hollow, muffled, as if through a wall.

"Sister!" More insistent this time, and much clearer.

Finally, a cold and sucking inhale of air filled my lungs, as my eyelids were pulled open before my eyes were even ready to perceive, my muscles tingled, and I shot up. As my vision extended in a vertical slit, I found myself already feeling ready to fight, all of my tiredness was gone, replaced by adrenaline. Immediately, my scent-tasting informed me that I was, in fact, back in the cabin. A shiver remembering the cold terrorized my thoughts, my tail rattling against the metal floor, as my view finally focused enough to make out the interior of the camp's main building.

It was still cold. Just not biting, my heart was still pumping blood through my entire body and the tingling electricity in my muscles remained, but I slowly settled in this shift of reality. My thoughts clarified, it was a little like how I felt after I was first separated, only faster and not starting from absolute zero. The first logical thought luckily came shortly after, finally allowing me to calm down.

One of my sisters was leaning against the side of her cage, continuously trying to get my attention. As I looked at her, I saw the faces of the others as well, they looked concerned for me. My first instinct was that somehow, my vision had inflicted actual injuries on me. I hastily scanned over my coils, forearms, and snout, but found no cuts, only the tight muzzle around my face.

"Sister, what is wrong? You were fighting, talking," the viper that had awoken me hissed.

"I...I was?" I repeated, trying to understand a very, very confusing concept quickly.

"Yes, asking for help, you looked in pain," again, a confused expression was met with my utter bewilderment. "What happened?"

"I don't know, but I am unharmed. I'm sorry for worrying you." They still looked at me with worry, but I remained in my stance.

"It is morning. They will decide our fate soon," another viper voiced, breaking the silence.

Indeed, the softer sunlight of earth's sun peeked through the tiny cracks-and numerous bullet holes-of the housing. The scent of yesterday's rain still hung in the air but was slowly drowned out by whirled-up ash, now that it wasn't suppressed anymore. Birds chirped in the off forest and humans talked outside, while the torches had gone out over the night. The doors were leaned closed and I could assume that the scent coming from it was from our guards.

"I don't want to die," a whimpering hiss from the side.

"We're not going to die here, the humans have to see that we...that we weren't responsible for this," I tried to be reassuring.

With that, I felt my gaze be forcibly pulled toward one of the corners, where a sectoid stared me down. The black pupils forced my eyes to remain locked with it, while I felt the edges of its mind prod against my head. I knew it was simply a way of communicating, it just felt rude and intrusive. But as soon as I allowed myself to be dragged along the non-physical pathway and connected with the sectoid, it was a lot less quiet in my head again.

'Don't just do that again!' I scolded the lanky biped.

'Well, I can't hiss the way you do, can I?' The expression of sarcasm was obvious.

'Still, you could have asked one of my sisters to just tell me,' I finalized.

'Back to what you said, we weren't responsible,' it was strange, like hearing myself repeat in a recording within my thoughts. 'Were we not?' Doubt filled the connection.

The question had been on my mind before, and apparently on the minds of the others as well. 'We were controlled, that is just it. I know that I would have never done any of this of my own will.' The truth that I had come to not but a few hours before, was about to be put under peer observation.

'And how do you prove that?" Another indistinguishable intent of meaning.

I paused. How would we prove it? Our word alone meant very little at the moment, that was obvious, but they could not simply look into our memories. 'Maybe they have some sort of way to tell if we are lying. There has to be some way to show that we are different, that something happened. What if there are more like us, what if there is something that happened to the elders, that would be provable.'

'You have a point, I, nor the others, do not sense the neural network active anymore. This is not an isolated case, the elders have fallen.' The sectoid on my left, I presumed.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

'Then the humans know that we aren't puppets anymore,' I let my relief speak for itself. 'See, no one is going to harm us, they are reasonable.'

'They still treat us like enemies,' the muton rumbled.

'We still are, it just depends on how they act in the future. For now, it would be wise to play along with whatever they recommend, there still are humans here that want us dead-no matter whose side we claim to be on,' The sectoid suggested.

Right as the sectoid laid out its plan, the doors were pushed open. Once again, it was the woman who'd interviewed me previously, only alone this time. She took her steps with confidence and immediately made her way straight to me. I was still uncomfortable with the fact that I had been chosen to represent us since I knew there were vipers among us who had actual training in human interaction-unlike me. The human pulled a metal chair across the floor, spun it around and sat down, her notepad in hand.

"Lean against the bars, don't move," she ordered.

I obliged reluctantly, pushing against the metal and holding steady. She completed the mechanism, that I had fumbled with previously, with ease and the muzzle came loose.

"Alright, now. We have a bit of a problem," she began and the pressure of the room seemed to double.

"Advent has fallen, everywhere. Our squad here...was not informed of that quickly enough, leading to certain choices that have ended in a complicated situation. Since it is still very uncertain as to what this all means, Xcom has ordered a ceasefire on all alien units. This order is universal, even to resistance groups and no one wants to piss off Xcom right now. I will honestly say that I am out of my depth at this point, I do not know how far your...sentients reaches, but do you understand the problem here?" Despite her choice of words, I did not feel insulted by the remark.

"I do. And we have been talking about something similar."

A little bit of relief crossed her features. "Bottom line is, my commander is willing to take a chance here. You will be treated with decency and care, but we cannot allow you to leave just yet."

"And why?" I prodded simply, cocking my head to the side.

"Because we aren't that many agents here, the camp outnumbers us one-to-three. And they are not as willing to forgive this," she looked over her shoulder as if expecting the doors to be run in.

"So they still wish to kill us?" I conveyed a message coming from the psionic connection.

"Yes. A lot of them are becoming more radical in their demand for violence. For now, we have been able to keep them in the dark as to our plans for you, but they are getting impatient. One option we have, however, would be to transport you out of here. Sadly, our ranger barely has space for extra passengers, and leaving even fewer agents here would be a bad idea. We can't get you all out at the same time, nor would it be good in the eyes of the residents, but we could evacuate six today," she proposed and looked to the others.

'Yes,' came from multiple minds at once.

"They agree," I translated quickly.

"That is good news. I will leave who else wishes to come up to you all, except the mutons, they have to get out of here-the residents are most unsettled by you," she addressed the three directly, though they were unable to formulate the English language, they gave a small nod.

Through the connection of thought and will, the rest began to discuss who should leave. A few remarked that they felt uncertain about separating, while others expressed that they wanted to leave as soon as possible. Eventually, it was agreed that two sectoids and one other viper would take the first flight. I pointed the ones out to the human and she noted them down.

"Agents will escort you soon enough, just stay put," she concluded and held the muzzle up demonstratively.

"Would it be possible to get food and water?" I asked quickly before she reattached the cable around my mouth.

"I'll see what I can do, don't expect a good meal from these people," she dismissed and exited.

Within the hour that followed, I was asked about my dream again, though neither I nor the rest could determine what it was at the time. I tried to explain what I had seen, even giving a fragmented memory via the psionic link as visualization, but the concept simply eluded us. Dreams are still so strange, but at least I now know I wasn't going insane. But the fact that none of my sisters had shared this unexplainable shift in reality, unnerved me even further.

As promised, a pair of agents entered with three solid metal constructs and something that smelled of food. They placed a plate of different meats on a table, before approaching one of the mutons. They looked more than a little on edge, as they tried to demonstrate how they were going to affix these metallic cuffs to them, but, the muton played along. After affirming twice over that they were permitted to shoot on sight if they felt threatened, they opened the cage's door and let the muton exit.

The alien's entire hands were encompassed in the black alloy, while pressurized machinery tightened around the forearms. The brute scoffed mentally, saying that they felt brittle, but he luckily didn't put that theory to the test. One by one, they were transported off, while the smell of cooked meat teased my sense of smell and taste. Perhaps if I was a little more hungry or a little less closely watched, I would have tried to snatch something with my tongue, but then there was that problem of still being muzzled.

When the last of the ones that would be taken that day were put away, the men returned. They spoke to each other in a human language I didn't understand, then made their way around the cages with the plates and a plastic jug. Without much care, they tossed pieces of what I could identify as venison, apples, bread, and bread into our cages, before making another round, in which they filled bowls with water.

At first, our collective stare was met with confusion, before they finally understood that none of us could open our mouths wide enough to actually eat or drink.

"Fuck, what do we do?" One asked the other.

"She said we have to watch them while they're eating, so we gotta take the wrapping off," the man responded with a shrug.

"You know the snakes freak me out, I'm not getting close to them without the muzzle," he threw a glance my way.

"Pussy." The expression confused me, though it had a noticeable effect on the addressed man.

"Ey, if you want to see them up close like that, go ahead. But I'm not helping you when they spit poison in your eyes."

"Hey, snake," He called out to me.

I couldn't respond with much more than raising my brow.

"Are you gonna bite poor William here if he gets close?" His tone sounded mocking, just not toward me.

I shook my head as adamantly as one could perform that gesture.

"See, it's promised to playing nice. You gotta confront them eventually, see it as a learning opportunity," he encouraged, though still clearly amused.

"No way, Erick, I'll take the sectoids," he tried to disengage.

"I'll tell the squad you're scared shitless by a bunch of snake-women," Erick chuckled.

The agent sighed deeply, rolled his eyes, then turned directly to me, rifle in hand. "I will kill you if I lose my hand to this," he retorted through his teeth.

I leaned down and stuck my snout out between the bars. His arm extended and a pair of clumsy fingers brushed against my scales. It was obvious he was trying to avoid actually touching me, but his uncertain and shaky fumbling only served to increase the contact. He struggled with trying to focus on my face, without actually looking into my eyes. I smelled his strange earthern odor, and much like most other agents, he also smelled of plasma.

"Fuck's sake, you gotta press the button on the back simultaneously with the release," the other man educated from a distance. At that moment, my eyes went wide and I realized only moments after, they had just made a potential mistake; they just showed me exactly how to detach my muzzle. I had observed before, tried to feel the movements and replicate them, but not being able to see it for myself had caused it to fail. Now I had direct instructions.

Just as instructed, the agent disengaged the locking mechanism and pulled back. The other, meanwhile, had already taken it off the restraints of three other units, clearly more experienced and not as afraid. William took a few steps back, his eyes transfixed onto me before he turned and helped free us of the binds. I noticed how nervous the other units were, whenever they were touched they flinched, constantly signaling a level of distress over the psionic connection.

Soon enough, however, we were all free to eat the provided food. Now, the paste of calories, protein, fat, calcium, and vitamins that had been forced down our throats in Advent had never registered a taste on my blanked mind. But, despite the hardened bread, cold meat, and slightly squishy apples, this tasted better by measurement of galaxies. Instead of simply gulping down the piece of venison like my sisters, I tore it into smaller pieces as began chewing, while taking in all of the pleasing tastes. The only problem with enjoying food in this manner was that my teeth were meant for biting and holding, instead of cutting food, so I was left munching on the pieces for a prolonged period of time.

The humans observed us out of their peripheral vision while unpacking a set of cards onto the table. They shuffled them, then handed out sets of six to each other, before turning one card and beginning to play. It was obviously a game of matching either the previous card's number or symbol, with extra effects on the one with a J and the number seven. Each time one person was out of cards, they grinned widely and began to tease the other with their imminent victory, to which the other usually responded with an insult; I was surprised with how many times humans threw obscenities around.

Around thirty minutes later, I finished, though some had picked up on my different way of eating and even replicated it. We collectively agreed that human food was best enjoyed this way, while others just welcomed the time they spent not muzzled. But our moment of joy and slight freedom would have to end eventually.

"You ready to get up close and personal again?" Erick teased.

"Shut up, let's just get out of here," the other dismissed and grabbed his share of mouth restraints.

This time, I was a little less distraught at being muzzled again, since I had a true way out of it. I held tight, tried to look at the floor, and suppressed smelling the air, as the nervous man fumbled with the lock once more. As if just knowing the series of steps, I was able to feel exactly what hand movements the man made to lock it.

"See, wasn't that bad," Erick sighed, as they finished their work.

"Still don't like it. Come on, let's get some food," William suggested and they both stepped out.

Through the slit in the swinging doors and the small windows at the side, I could make out that it was going to turn noon very soon. But with a filled stomach and, despite the circumstances, a rested mind, I was ready to try something. Something potentially stupid.

Over the next couple dozen minutes, I located the locking mechanism on the side of my jaw and tried to visualize its parts, while the other Units chose to relax in their cages. It was mainly comprised of a metal ring, with a button on the back and one at the front. My claws made it a little difficult trying to get my fingers into position, but I managed to get the tips of my nails into the grooves. Whereas I previously tried to pull the straps off from this position alone, I pushed inward this time.

-Click-

The strap came loose and my eyes went wide, as the pressure seized. Immediately, I was questioned how I had done this, what I was thinking, and warned to be careful. But I mostly ignored the voices in my head, as I stretched my jaw and body.

I let my tongue exit, lapping up the air's pheromones and chemicals, then froze. I smelled a human, too fresh to be a lingering scent.

"I don't think you're supposed to do that," a male voice came from one of the building's corners.

Within the moment that he announced his presence, I shot around towards him. Brown hair, green eyes, bulky frame, unkept beard-stubble, and sideways cocked head with an intrigued expression. Despite his fixed arm, bandaged torso, and limping step, he had completely eluded my and the gaze of my compatriot up until now. 'How did I miss him entering?'

"I...Uhm," I stammered, desperately hoping this was another one of those strange visions.

"I recognize you," he interrupted, his gaze affixed to mine.

The way he was staring at me, no, not staring like the others, he was observing calmly, his hands crossed at the chest. All of the other humans had this undeniable sense of discomfort, fear, and disgust in their demeanor. But not this one. He seemed almost infatuated with me, while his eyes were shifting in thought.

"You didn't kill me yesterday, right?" He continued speaking.

I was unsure if I should respond, maybe just keeping quiet would lessen whatever punishment was surely in store for us. But he didn't seem aggressive, nor was he an agent. And I did, in fact, recognize him too.

"Yes," I responded quietly. I tried to look to the floor but failed to tear my eyes off of him.

"So you do speak, good. I wanna have a conversation and you seem...eager to talk, considering you got that thing off already," he motioned down to the wire. I knew he was signaling me to cooperate, making sure I understood the amount of leverage he had in this situation.

"I am not with Xcom, I am not trying to threaten you. There is just a lot happening and I want answers. Are you gonna help me explain some of this?" He maintained his sideways expression, though it shifted slightly with a smile.

"I will," I managed to produce, after swallowing.

"Great, then let's start at the beginning," he pulled the chair to the back of my cage and took a seat. "Why did you surrender?"

I was still taken aback by the situation, if anyone walked in right now, I would be in danger. "Because we didn't want to fight a battle we had no say in. The elders have subjugated us all and forced us to fight, using psionic power to keep our minds suppressed. Yesterday, their connection snapped and we were freed." The same story I had told the scientist, just in case this man was some sort of spy.

"And you particularly?" He prodded further.

The question was strange, why was he interested in my opinion on this? "Because I was scared," I responded calmly.

He still kept that overly intense eye contact, locking me in a staring contest. "Scared of what?"

"I-I was scared of dying, we were being slaughtered without a way to defend ourselves," I admitted, though I still couldn't see where this was going.

"Are you scared right now?" His voice was calm, non-threatening, and somehow, assuring.

"Yes," I let out a sheepish whisper.

"Of me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Of all of you, of this situation, of the camp," I listed off.

"You're a big alien snake, what have you got to be afraid of?"

"I'm not a snake," I retorted.

"You look like one," the man chuckled. "What else are you supposed to be?"

"I am not related to your terrestrial reptiles, that is all. It is strange to me too, seeing another planet's fauna have similarities to my own species."

"Huh, that's a new one." The human finally broke eye contact to observe the other aliens, who were all staring at our interaction. "Why are they looking at us?"

"Because you have the power to tell Xcom that I tried to free myself, they are worried for me," I explained the constant voices in my head.

"Oh, I'm not gonna tell them shit, I'm here for personal business. Has Xcom been threatening you the entire time?"

"Not directly, they promised to escort us out of the camp, get us to safety, but they keep mentioning that they are the only barrier between us and death. Is it true that the camp wants us killed still?" I turned back to question him, prompting an intrigued look from the man.

"As far as I can tell, yeah. Granted, I woke up less than an hour ago, so I might not be up to date with everyone's opinion," he seemed amused by the situation.

"Can I ask you a question?" I wanted to get something out of this, time to see how far this man's personal business reached.

"You just did," pure and utter smugness was plastered all over his face when I adopted a look of bewilderment.

"Y-you know what I meant," I tried to salvage my lack of human conversation training.

"Yeah, go ahead, what do you wanna know?" He sighed and leaned back.

"Why are you talking to me, really?" I hoped he didn't see this as me doubting him, I simply wanted to prod further.

"Hmm," he mused. "Curiosity," he finalized.

"What are you curious about?"

"I want a different perspective on this, see how you talk, see what you tell me, then check if it lines up with my expectations and the things others have told me. And I have to admit, I did not expect it to go this way," he huffed.

"Do you know if they will hurt us?" The question came not only from me but also from the desire of the rest.

The man paused, then glanced about the room in thought. "I can't say, really. But I would be surprised if humans were able to overlook something like this, we don't have the biggest track record on forgiveness."

An answer I had already expected, but hearing it confirmed by one of the humans only settled my fears even more deeply.

"What about you, do you hold resentment toward us?" His green eyes shifted from mine slightly, something which I knew signified that he was thinking.

"Yes," he turned back to me. "You killed a lot of people here, that is just a fact. The camp is done, the survivors are disbanding, there is no doubt that you did this. But from what you're saying, maybe there is someone else to truly blame. Tell me, not-snake, did you want to kill us?" His manner of speaking remained calm, not passive, simply indifferent.

"No," I retorted quickly. "None of us did, nor do we want to continue hurting anyone. We only want to live, we want to make right by the ones we have affected."

"That wasn't exactly the question, what about you, do you hold resentment toward us?" He repeated my question, which threw me off for a moment.

"I don't," I responded without thinking.

"Bullshit," the man interrupted.

"What?"

"I'm calling bullshit on that," he repeated, his tone sounded lighthearted. "They muzzle you, stick you in cages, and you're clearly fucking terrified of them. This isn't a situation you could hold back on resenting humans, so you are definitely trying to just appeal to me. I would be not nearly as interested in talking to you if it was that way. So once again, truthfully this time, what do you think of the humans here?" He locked eyes with me, clearly satisfied with his assessment.

It took me a while to realize that he had actually hit the nail on the bullseye, or whatever the expression was. There was no way I would have admitted it openly right away, but the way the humans treated us spoke of nothing but discontent and judgment.

"...You are right. It would be dishonest to say that we are being treated with respect or care at the moment. And I do hold the humans responsible for this, I expected them to understand more quickly, to ask questions, and see the truth. But instead, they lock us away because they do not want to see us, take us away, and prevent us from explaining ourselves."

"And you think they would understand," the man surmised.

"I hope they will, with time, I trust that we will be given a chance to show what really happened," I maintained the lock of our eyes, perhaps because I was trying to show genuineness, maybe just because his eyes were nothing short of fascinating to observe.

The man smiled. I couldn't help but theorize as to his true goal, if he was earnestly attempting to make conversation, or if this was all an elaborate scheme. Still, his expression seemed genuine and his words sounded true.

"Well, regardless of what happens to you, I won't be around to see it." The man stood up.

"Why?" I engaged in the obvious bait.

"Because I am leaving this place, there is nothing more here for me," he pushed the chair back, making his way away from my cage.

"Wait," I called out, sounding more desperate than intended.

The human turned with a surprised expression and I immediately shrunk in size.

"Can you help us?" my voice sounded hollow. I knew he had little authority, he had explained that he wasn't with Xcom, but perhaps my plea struck a nerve, as he glanced over the lot of us again.

"I can't. This stopped being a matter I can change, when Xcom showed up, now, you are their responsibility. The only thing I can tell you is that there are talks of letting the people here decide your fate partly. If that is true, then I will do what I can," his tone sounded apologetic.

"What's your name?" I added, just as he got to the doors.

"We'll get to that," he flashed a grin and disappeared.

I stood in my cage, completely dumbfounded by what had just transpired. So many more questions I would have liked to ask, so many more things I would have wanted to express. But it was quiet again, at least in the physical realm. Meanwhile, the psionic network, we were all a part of was scolding me for risking myself like this, for revealing too much information, but I remained in my disposition.

'They will let the villagers decide our fate partly, what is that supposed to mean?' One of my sisters expressed.

'I don't know, but we might have just gotten an ally,' a sectoid concluded.

'Really? Seemed more like he was trying to satisfy his own curiosity, said that himself,' the scoffing remark echoed.

'Maybe, but she did a good job in talking,' the feeling of being praised felt nice, despite my own assertions of my social incompetence.

Within the next few minutes, I transferred my knowledge of how I detached the locking mechanism of my muzzle and the others replicated my success. Everyone stretched their jaws, rubbed along the marks that remained, took in deep breaths, then reaffixed the cords. A little more loosely and less threatening, now that I knew how to free myself.

Soon, the constraining interior of the cage forced me to confront another new aspect of consciousness: boredom. I counted the separate wood planks, listened intently for every single noise outside, wrapped myself in my tail, played with the muzzle, ran along the lines and design of my scales, and drank from my bowl. Without a way to tell time, other than observing the shift in light, I do not know how long it took before I lulled myself into another dosage of sleep; though this time, it was undisturbed by unexplainable dreams.