He dived straight into the collection of blue and yellow lights and landed on the first portion of the virtual space, smooth as butter.

"Alright, you damn pod." He muttered to himself as the first wave of obstacles rose in front. "Let's see what you got."

He ran across the path, slicing his way through the crowd. In reality, the [Hacking] augmentation was hard at work, suppressing the cryo-pod's innate security and breaking through its password. The human brain is a supercomputer unto itself read a passage from the ADOSCH's manual. It is only right that we, the guardians of humanity, unlock its true potential and surpass its natural physical limits.

Why the tech-heads had chosen such an immersive interface, he couldn't begin to guess. It even performed a similar temporal dilation, like Esther's space. It was fun, Adam had to admit. Felt like living out those games at Steeldale's old arcade.

He cut through the last barricade. It dissipated into tiny polygons, and he stepped forth to reach the data storage at the path's end. The [Hacking] ended, his interface flashing up a green tick, and he was booted back to reality with only a mild pinprick of pain in his forehead.

Hacking of [Cryogenic Pod #A-456.01] was a success! All files have been transferred to User Adam Westfield's personal storage.

Experience (Hacking) acknowledged: +1%

He expected the pod wouldn't grant him much experience. Cracking it had been on the easier side; he only waited this long due to originally lacking the requirements to even begin. It was nothing compared to the door at the bottom of the beacon cave.

A lump gathered in his throat as he commanded ADOSCH to open the newest recovered file. This is it, he thought. The moment of truth, just like in the movies, where the music swelled, and the camera panned across the hero's behind, obscuring the contents of the truth until they made the big exclamative gasp. The Medbay room was darker than the contents of a tar canister and blocked off from even the faint ambience outside. Adam still glanced around before opening the first file.

A dozen files later, he found himself disappointed. Most of the files were simply real-time logs generated by the computer. The same lines repeated over and over. Occupant status: Healthy. OS: Functional. System: Neutral. The machine had recorded his pulse, blood pressure and brain patterns, then generated a set of graphs. None of it was useful to him.

He kept sifting through the files, his back leaning against the wall, utilizing ADOSCH's searching mechanisms to parse any oddities in the text. After the five-hundredth, he raised his eyebrows.

The logs were sorted from newest to oldest. He had reached the trailing end, close to the point where he'd been inserted into the cryo-pod. The problem wasn't that, though. It was the date. According to the logs, he had been inside the pod for fifteen whole years.

Sheesh, what a hell of a long time was his first thought. The cryo-sleep almost doubled his age… not that he felt middle-aged. The War Maidens were in the same boat, given their corruption, and neither Lucy nor Saria griped about their time gap, so he almost passed it over.

The number flashed again in his head, and he remembered.

Miriam.

She said she survived in this strange world for around a dozen years. That meant three years were unaccounted for. A thousand days where he was MOB Tifereth-56 before its dimensional transition, at the mercy of its personnel! He delved into the logs again, tearing through them as if throwing their paper forms aside, searching for any oddity, detail, explanation—anything!

There was none.

But that makes no fucking sense. My last memory was getting on the bus to Infantry Camp! Why me?

What, did Astraea invade the USA and kidnap him across the stars for a little snooze? He wanted to laugh, and instead felt shivers. They weren't from the cold.

He reached the bottom and read the last line.

Unknown occupant placed inside pod. DT: 001/012/189/007. Stated reason: ADHJORAP. Duration: Estimated 16.7 years.

ADOSCH beeped. Adam froze.

Incoming transmission detected. Source: Communications Operator Miriam Pereia. Would User Adam Westfield like to receive?

He debated with himself for thirty whole seconds before picking it up.

"What the hell, Miriam? You're still up at this hour?"

"It's not night-time where I'm at. Besides, I don't sleep very much these days." Miriam said. She sipped from a mug of steaming green liquid. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her loose shirt, then frowned. "Your turn, then. What are you doing in the Medbay in the middle of the night? I thought your watch ended."

"Don't think you'd accept the excuse of wanting a bit of exercise?"

"Boy, who do you think I am?"

Adam groaned. "I was hacking into my cryo-pod. The one I woke up in."

"Oh, that?" Miriam said. Her tone was causal. She took another sip of her drink, and put it down with a small grin. It revealed a row of slightly dirty teeth. She flicked her fringe back and continued. "About time. I wondered why you didn't do it earlier. Was it because of the security requirements?"

"Yeah. Needed a boost to my [Hacking] aug."

"Makes sense. Why now, of all times? Did you only think about it now while holding off yawns?"

Because I thought I'd discover something I need to hide from you guys. Adam thought. It was too late now. He knew Miriam would pester him about it, both as a professional operator and out of her personal curiosity, so he spilled. It didn't take long, and wasn't much to talk about. Miriam herself looked disinterested, holding her head up with her hand, until he told her about the recorded reason listed in the final log.

"Adam." Miriam said. "Repeat what you just said, please."

"I hacked into the cryo pod and discovered I've been in there for fifteen years."

"No, not that, although it is concerning. The other part!" Miriam cried.

"The what-was-it… ADHJORAP, whatever the hell that is."

The color drained from Miriam's face. She sat up straight, and she fixed him with a serious stare. "Adam, that stands for Astraean Defense and Humanitarian Joint Order Re-Acclimatization Program. Do you know what that is?"

He shook his head.

"It's a program meant to help victims of Scourge attacks!"

"Say what?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Scourge victims are affected physically, mentally, physiologically, ontologically or a combination of all four. Astraea hence devised a program to ease them out of their symptoms and help re-integrate them back into society." She cursed, her hands swiping across her keyboard. He saw the reflection of a notepad icon on one of her other screens. She slammed her hands on her desk and scooted closer, her chair making a faint screech across her bunker's floor.

"Adam! Listen to me carefully, and answer to the best of your abilities. Have you felt any physical abnormalities besides the wounds and plasma burnout? Skin cancer, extraneous blood vessels, mutated muscles, unwanted flesh, skin or any other organ?"

"Uh, no?" Adam answered. "That'd be obvious by now."

"What about mental abnormalities? Intense, random headaches? Periodic losses of emotion? The sudden urge to self-exsanguinate, an inability to recite the alphabet, homicidal intrusive thoughts?"

"Exsangu—what? No! None of that, unless you mean the headaches I've gotten from working as a Chosen." Adam said.

"And you had no experience with mystics upon awakening, so nothing there. Klavdia and Alcott both confirmed you to be a proper human. She wouldn't send a Scourge-inflictee to act as Her Chosen anyway, so… okay, okay. Good." Miriam moaned with relief. She still kept typing with one hand. "It seems like you're in the clear. You must tell us if any of those symptoms occur, understood? This is non-negotiable."

"Christ Miriam, are Scourge attacks that bad?"

"Adam, why do you think we, the ADO, want to eliminate them so much? They're not handing out flower baskets and free bread!" Miriam said.

"Alright, alright…"

His mind flashed back to the video about the War Maidens fighting the Scourge monsters. Okay, maybe black goo monsters were dangerous to civilians. The ADO soldiers must've been too angry to be corrupted, or something.

"So, what, the logs are fake? Or the staff screwed up?"

"It could be a simple mistake. Those happen. Adam, I don't suppose you can hack into the Medbay's main database?"

Adam shook his head. "I tried that earlier. [Hacking] wasn't strong enough. Plus, it required something called a biometric imprint. That's like a fingerprint, right?"

"Yes, it's based on DNA and other biological details. All humans have a unique one, and they're very difficult to circumvent. Hospitals all across the colonies redid their security systems from the ground up, thanks to a nasty scandal from ten, sorry, twenty years ago. Heretics took millions of medical records to create a terrible bioweapon… awful stuff. Even teen me couldn't stop hearing about it." Miriam said. "Sorry, off-topic again. Do you remember anything about the MOB, or Colony Lyralei?"

"Answer's no. Am I supposed to lose chunks of my memory from cryo-sleep?"

"That shouldn't happen. The basics of this tech were perfected fifty years ago. They might put you in one if you're suffering from a terminal illness, or a life-threatening injury in the field, but again, you don't fit either of these descriptions. That only leaves…"

Miriam went quiet.

"Oi, what's up?"

"Adam, this is only a hypothesis. Don't take it as official fact."

"Kinda don't like where this is going…"

"I remember you said your combat harness was a special, experimental type. If you were given such experimental technology—a combat ready one at that—and you weren't a victim of a Scourge attack, nor suffering from any other life-threatening illness, injury or affliction then there's no official reason for you to be placed inside a cryo-pod. That only leaves the illegal ones."

Adam stared, then his eyes widened. His hands touched the side of his head. Smooth, unblemished skin.

"Yes, Adam, it means our technology division may have taken you in as a test subject, without your consent."

"Why the hell would they do that?"

"Stars above, the reasons I could tell you. Your biometric imprint may contain an uncommon genetic code needed for the harness's algorithms, or you were in the wrong place and at the wrong time. I don't know. What I do know is if this happens to be true, the whole ADO will be in uproar."

Adam paused as he took the information in. "Y'know, I sorta figured something like that happened, seeing as I don't remember volunteering for ADOSCH or coming to the MOB." He grumbled. "Sure as hell didn't ask for any of it."

Miriam blinked. "You're taking this better than I expected. I'd thought you'd panic about potential defects in the harness."

"Ain't like the first time things were out of my control." Adam said. "At some point, you gotta put up or shut up. I'm more concerned about those missing three years. Christ, what if I did something stupid or terrible that's gonna bit me in the ass back home?"

"I can't imagine anything too serious, seeing as the Goddess chose you. There might be a silver lining, however. If the harness's designers kept you in the MOB, then it's likely they stored complementary technology inside the Research Labs or the Armory."

"Lucy and I tried those. They're under that reality-bending security thing."

"Yes, I know. The Stabilizer Keystones are hard to come by, but…" Miriam projected the map of Grassruin Valley onto her screen. Numerous blue lights twinkled in various spots. "Check this out. Signals from ADO markers, similar to the ones that allow me to track you and the others. It's entirely possible to that these belong to deceased fellows, or aren't in possession of the Keystones, but a slight chance is better than nothing. I suspect you'll want to collect as many lost ADO personnel, anyway."

"And once we unlock the two rooms, I can boost myself up even further."

"Precisely!"

"Sometimes you do have good ideas, Miriam."

"And a big thank to you too, civvie." Miriam said, smirking.

There was nothing else to do here. He left the medbay and returned to his bunk in the dorms. He lay there in the dark, stripped down to a shirt and shorts, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. It was a tiredness that gripped his body, but failed to hold his mind. He rolled over, facing the wall.

Three years. That was the span of middle school. Half of puberty, three-quarters the length of the US Civil War, a hundred percent of Mary's run with Sally's old gang. A third of the age he'd been when Mary passed away. He cradled his pendant as he closed his eyes. The familiar notches of the gemstone reminded him of the bumps on Mary's hands. Scars, dints and minor burns, a collection of marks from her jobs to feed and provide him as a small child. She was proud of them. Said they were a hard worker's hands. Better than those uppity pianists from the all-girl's private school. The gemstone itself was a gift from an old friend who escaped Steeldale and hoped Mary would do the same.

The confined silence of the MOB's dorm contrasted with his room in the old orphanage. The roof leaked, the kid above him kept tossing in his sleep and dogs barked through the night.

He didn't miss any of it, except for a single room in its wretched confines. Sneaking into there, holding Mary's pendant, snuggling under the woolly covers as if her warm, strong body was still there…

An orphanage worker had tried to throw him out because of that. He bit her fingers until they bled.

"Are you still awake, Adam?"

"Yeah." Adam said.

The frantic energy inside Miriam had quelled. She looked tired. "Want me to keep what we learned today a secret from the War Maidens?"

"I dunno. Would it matter much?"

Miriam laughed. "They'd explode with rage, Adam."

"What? Because of the whole test subject thing? Or because I'm the Chosen?"

"Both. The ADO is supposed to be impenetrable, a shining beacon of humanity's defense against the overwhelming apathy of the greater universe and so on. The colonies rely on us so much, that any corruption inside our ranks is to be smote with extreme prejudice. And let me tell you, no-one wants be the unlucky sod who dares harm the Chosen, of all people…"

"Come on, it can't be that big of a deal. I'm just a civvie, right?"

"Adam, a Chosen is a near-mythological existence that occurs a few times every epoch. To witness one, never mind meet one up close, is a massive deal. Even more so if it's a Chosen that's reached the end of their journey. Only Apostles are above you, in theory." Miriam said. She laughed again. "I can imagine it. The War Maidens barging through the center of HQ, dragging you along for the ride, demanding a full-scale audit of those damn tech-heads and their little projects. You'd have young maidens lining up left and right to meet you, especially those daughters from the high-born families. Hope you like fancy gatherings!"

"Oh god…"

"What? You never thought of meeting a nice woman and settling down? Now's your chance, young man. All you must do is purify all the War Maidens and hope none of them fraternize with you first."

"Christ, if that's how girls want me, I'd rather stay single. It sounds like a fucking insult."

"It was only a joke, Adam."

"I know. I still don't like it." Adam said. "I'm not a piece of meat."

Miriam closed her mouth. An awkward silence passed. "Adam."

"Yeah?"

"You don't actually like being the Chosen, do you?"

He didn't answer that. Let Miriam think he was sleeping now or whatever.

"Okay. I understand. You don't have to talk about it now, if you don't want to."

She sighed, tapping her desk.

"I never wanted to be a Chosen either, growing up. The Lexicon speaks much of the past Chosen's deeds great deal, but all I could think about was how much they must have suffered in accomplishing them. Being taken away from their homes, wandering into dangerous lands, risking their lives to save others, and so on. I probably contributed to yours by acting like such an unco-operative bitch." Miriam said. She ran a hand through her hair. Rubbed her eyes. Placed a palm on her face, above her regretful grimace. "I'm sorry, Adam, and I should've said that earlier. It might not mean much coming from me, but I'm truly glad you're here. As extreme as the War Maidens are, they're still my comrades and you saved two of them. It means a lot to me."

"…was only doing what I had to do." He mumbles back.

"I know. Thank you, anyway." She smiled at him. "Goodnight, Adam."

The night passed, and dawn rose. With it, his new mission began.

It was time to return to Grassruin Valley and find Madeline Alcott and Penny, either alive or dead.