I was not too fond of our daily scans. It wasn't like anything would change day to day; they had me living in a highly controlled box for crying out loud. Every day, I had the same routine. Wake up, do simulation courses, eat, train, eat, simulations, sleep. I wasn't too far removed from being a robot at this point, living out my days as if they were only zeroes and ones.

Beep. Beep. "scan completed. Vital signs are normal. Silo count stable," a robotic woman called out from the speakers.

"Yeah, no shit, you dumb bot. You scanned me like 12 hours ago."

"Subject 3108, please refrain from insulting the automation," the doctors told me through the intercom.

I raised my middle finger to them.

They had me wearing only a pair of briefs as a dozen doctors examined my scan from behind bulletproof glass, but I was in trouble for insulting a damn robot.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off. Just let me back into my room—"

A violent shock overtook my body, originating from the tattoo on my neck: my identifier, number 3108. The ink was my welcome gift upon my arrival at Article C; it was accompanied by a handful of beatings and the stripping of my dignity. This place was fucking horrible, even worse than the shithole sector I was from.

The overhead lamps kicked on, and four caretakers entered the testing area. They grabbed me by my arms and legs and carried me out against my will.

"Wait," Dr. Amedia stopped them at the doorway, "subject, please remember to complete your simulations before the end of this week. We will be doing evaluations soon."

Out of all the doctors in Article C, Dr. Amedia was the most tolerable; at least she was easy on the eyes. She was domineering, like a drill sergeant but with glasses and a lab coat. Outside of this place, she was probably well sought after. She had long and well maintained blonde hair, pale green eyes, and tight cheekbones. However, her nonchalantly sadistic attitude towards her 'patients' was not attractive.

"Yeah, yeah. If I fail, I die. It's not so much a threat when it sounds better than living," I retorted.

She waved her hand, dismissing us, and I was dragged through the facility and back to my room. Article C was an old series of factories hodgepodged into a "research center." The grated iron walkways and exposed steel piping made it feel more like a prison built in a basement.

The caretakers wore all white, like actual hospital workers. But the white scrubs here were often stained with the blood of subjects like me if we acted out of line. It seemed odd that they wouldn't wear something darker until I realized it was an intimidation tactic. If they beat us and got blood on their scrubs, we'd be hit harder. So, most patients tended to not act out in the first place.

The caretakers scanned the card for my room and tossed me through the doors. I landed in the common area, just short of breaking through the coffee table.

"Is it too hard to just set me down? Fuck off!" I yelled through the closed door. But they left without caring about my angry comments.

"You'll never get used to it, huh?"

I turned back toward the common area to find Ordell sitting with his feet up on the table.

"How could I? You went through the same shit!"

"After your evaluation, it'll mellow out." He closed his eyes and laid his head on the backrest of the couch. "Besides, what can you do? Just stop antagonizing them."

"Fuck that, Ordell, I'm gonna break—"

"Oh please," he interrupted, jerking forward, "it's a nice sentiment, but do you know how many people have said the same thing? Every motherfucker in here."

Ordell was sensible but blunt. He glared at me with piercing orange eyes framed by middle-parted olive bangs. He had a stern look, but I wasn't intimidated by him.

"But, who am I to kill someone's stupid fantasy?" He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back into the couch once more.

"Heh. Were you a cynical asshole before Article C too?" I smiled wide at him, and he shot a small smirk back.

I took a seat on the couch across from Ordell, laid back, and let my bangs fall off my face. I closed my eyes for a moment, basking in the silence.

"Oh, Sylas! I didn't realize you were back!"

I opened my eyes to see Charlotte staring down at me, standing behind the couch. She had pastel pink hair that hung around her shoulders and icy blue eyes that forced me to collect myself before speaking.

"Hey-hey! I didn't hear you come out." I smiled as I looked up at her.

It took me a moment to notice her face was flush. Then I saw she wasn't returning my smile.

"Uh, is something wrong?"

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She turned her back, took a few steps away, and pressed her nose to the wall.

"You aren't wearing any clothes..." she murmured.

"I didn't catch that," I stood up, "what's going on?"

Charlotte slowly turned, glaring at me from over her shoulder, her cold eyes shrouded in a malicious shadow.

"You are naked."

Oh shit. I hadn't been paying attention since I was tossed back in here. Ordell didn't even bear my nude body any thought, so it had completely slipped my mind.

"..."

How could I respond? Charlotte was facing the wall again, gripping the bottom of her dress so tightly her knuckles were white. Meanwhile, I was still staring at her, just as naked.

"I'm gonna...go get dressed."

"Yeah, good idea. Very quick to come up with that plan," Ordell mocked.

Why did I remember all this now?

"Sylas, focus!" Eclaire shouted to me."

I'd been daydreaming again, but why now? The red beam concentrated horizontally through the limousine.

WHIRRRRRRR.

The light moved slowly from the back to the front. Raust was first, then Calico. I gripped the leather of my seat firmly as the light cascaded over me. It felt warm.

No. I felt warm.

I caught a glimpse of Raust in my peripheral, with his crown activated. His eyes were trained on me, and a ghostly crosshair burned in bright red in front of his face. He was heating my body with his arma, slightly, but enough for me to have noticed. He was laser-focused, his eyes calm but fiercely precise.

As the light finished its pass over me, Raust shifted his focus to Eclaire.

Raust, are you—?

Sylas, quiet. Let him concentrate. Calico thought back to me.

Eclaire sat calmly, letting the red glow wash over her. She was in tune with Raust, and they spoke volumes to each other without uttering a word.

WHIRRRRRRRrrrrrrrr.

The humming of the drone trailed off into the distance and took the red light with it. Raust released his crown and leaned back into his seat, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve.

"Do you think we pulled that off?" He asked.

I could feel the exasperation in his tone; his words were shaky.

Projection-based arma required more fine-tuning than other classifications, having to channel silo through your body and output it to a specified location. It made me sweat just thinking about it.

"We shall see. Good work, Raust," Eclaire responded.

The guard approached the limo once more, and Eclaire moved her crown back below her chair before rolling the window down.

"Any issues with the scan, sir?" Eclaire asked.

She was like a statue. Her demeanor was as terrifying as it was impressive.

"Everything seemed normal. Sorry for the holdup Miss Elliott."

The gates ahead of us swung open, and we rolled through. The guards watched us meticulously as we passed, and the gates shut behind us.

"That was nervewracking. What the fuck just happened?" I asked.

"Darling Raust saved us!" Calico cheered.

"Well, I felt him using his arma. But what did you do, Raust?"

I turned to him as I asked, to find him laid out on the seat, sleeping.

"Oh..."

"Raust's arma lets him control the heat energy of atoms," Eclaire answered for him.

"Well, I know that much."

"Ahem, If I may continue. The drones used by the military specialize in Cambion detection by scanning the area for silo alongside heat signatures."

Silo was found in the space between atoms, microscopic particles that made everything aside from matter in the universe. To Cambions, silo was what gave us access to unique abilities that separated us from humans. Naturally, silo flowed freely through our bodies, unlike humans who had silo flow around them.

"The issue with using void to expel silo from our bodies is the drop in body temperature wCambions suffer while using it. Raust raised and manipulated our body temperatures in time with the scan to appear human," Eclaire continued.

It was astounding. I'd been amazed by Shugr's acute usage of his smoke, but that amount of concentration and precision was on another level. No wonder he knocked out afterward.

"Did he learn that kind of thing at Dead Circus? How do I develop that level of skill?"

Eclaire walked to the bar and refilled her teacup.

"Of course. As our operatives, we devote quite a healthy amount of effort to the development of your skills."

She took a sip and returned to her seat. Calico chimed in.

"But Raust is special. We're not sure where he came from, but wherever it was, he already had a solid base of training."

Raust was boyish, with a baby face for his age. However, he was still a teenager. Despite his childlike inclinations, when I looked at him sleeping now, I saw no comfort. I saw someone like myself, worn by the world and cynically sharpened by it. I wondered what his story was. Was he like me? Or maybe he'd been through a different kind of hell.

"Miss Eclaire, we'll be arriving at the requested destination shortly," our driver announced to us over the intercom.

"Very good, thank you, Watts," Eclaire responded.

"What's the story with Watts?" I asked.

"Beg pardon?"

"I mean. Is Watts, you know, with Shugr's company or..."

"Young master Sylas. If you intend to inquire as to my positioning, know I am an ally of all master Shugr's endeavors," Watts responded over the intercom.

I hadn't seen Watts when entering the limo. The driver's compartment was segregated from the passengers by a divider with a mirrored window. I imagined him as an old but intimidating man, like a secret vigilante's butler. Or, maybe an old veteran from some corporate militia, someone unassuming but deadly when crossed.

"Precisely. Watts will assist us if necessary in our recreational endeavors. But, for now, please think of him as our driver," Eclaire stated.

The limo stopped on the curb, a couple of blocks from our destination. R3 was closed off to us by massive walls, the standard landscape feature of Concordia, though, they were shorter than the walls in the main city, only about 50 meters. However, they were immaculately detailed with golden adornments and gemmed accents. The gates had no guards outside, and no drones posted that I could see.

"The security seems a little light, doesn't it?" I asked.

Calico responded while lacing up her boots and strapping up her body harness.

"Good observation. Raust might've given you experience points if he was awake," she mocked.

"Indeed, Sylas. Please stay here with Watts and Raust while Calico and I scout ahead."

"Isn't Raust our usual scout? Shouldn't we wake him—"

"No," Calico and Eclaire responded together.

"Alright, I guess I'll just watch him sleep then."

"Very good. Calico, let us go."

Eclaire and Calico exited out the butterfly doors, strapped their harnesses together, then leaped away to the top of a nearby building. The door lowered down and pressed in flush to the sides of the vehicle, giving off a slight hiss as the cabin re-pressurized.

Raust was still sleeping. I could've raided the snack bar, but I wasn't particularly hungry or thirsty. The thought of not being shot at or attacked was comforting, but I had to admit this was more boring than I anticipated. I hadn't imagined this return to the hell from my memories would be anti-climactic. I'd had nightmares about this place for years, even while I was still locked up there. Now, I was staring at the gates in the face, and I didn't feel anxious.

I was angry.

I was furious, even.

I was tortured inside those walls, and now I had to sit and wait as my team scouted without me. What good would that do? We knew what it was. It was a concentration camp for Cambions that needed to be buried in the dirt. What good was scouting out somewhere like this? I knew what it was, and my team was being too cautious and taking it too lightly.

"Watts, I'm going to do some scouting of my own on the lower wall. Let Eclaire know if they get back before me."

Chhhhhhhk, the intercom flared.

"Master Sylas, I believe this to be a foolish endeavor. Your vice-captain gave you directions, and I recommend you follow them."

Man, here I thought this guy was some badass, and it turned out he was just a scared old man.

"I'll be fine, Watts. Just keep an eye on Raust. I'll be discreet, no Calico type moves or anything."

I opened the door and left before Watts could protest any further.

The streets here were vacant, not a soul in sight. Our limo was even the only vehicle anywhere to be seen, taking up the curb independently. Did no one live here? I know we were close to R3, but I didn't remember seeing another soul since coming through the gate. Maybe only the royal family lived here.

The buildings along the road were even nicer than the ones in the capital. But, they all seemed so lifeless—apartment buildings and offices with blacked-out windows and unused doors and walkways. I continued down the street, craning my neck to try and find where Eclaire and Calico had gone. I figured they'd be close enough to see over the walls, to try and gauge what was within.

I already knew.

I stopped at the base of the wall, looking directly up. I was out in the open, no cover, no security, nothing to hide me. My teammates should've been able to see me, but it didn't trouble me for some reason. I stood in the road, staring at the doors, and as I placed my hand against them, the world seemed to collapse around me.

My head spun, and the wind around me spiraled.

My knees became weaker as gravity bore on me and tried to drag me down.

My hand trembled against the cold steel plates of the door as I struggled to keep the form of fingers rigid.

Then, I found myself back in my old room, hand on the door out into the facility. I was frozen, my body cold but covered in sweat.

"Sylas, what are you doing?"