Jefferson looked anxious as he watched the woman in the white doctor's coat with a small ARES insignia on its front typing away at her computer. The headgear he wore that was connected to her computer by a myriad of wires may not have been so heavy in reality, but he felt a growing pressure in his head regardless.

"Alright, Joseph, I'm going to start the test now," the ARES doctor said. "Remember, to stay relaxed. Just let the machine do all the work."

The former Syndicate member nodded, settling into the chair as the headgear hummed to life. He shut his eyes as the headgear's visor came down over them and tried to stay as loose mentally and physically as he could. A series of images flashed before his eyes - landscapes, objects, faces. At first, the test seemed routine, but as the minutes ticked by, the images grew more intense and more personal.

Memories from his time with the Emerald Syndicate surfaced unbidden. The things he'd seen, the things he'd done. ...The things he had done to him. Jefferson's heart started to race and his breath started coming in short gasps. Familiar memories he thought lost began returning gradually, but as their pictures became more vivid, more pain lanced through his mind as well. It was like his brain was being baked in a microwave.

"Stop..." he said through gritted teeth. "C-cut it off!"

The doctor's fingers flew over the keyboard while she studied the readouts on her screen. Progress was being made, but his brain activity was spiking erratically as if he was on the verge of Cerebral Snapping.

"…I said cut it off!" he barked while whipping his head about.

The doctor sighed as she complied. With a few quick clicks, the machine was turned off. Relieved, Jefferson slumped back in his chair, his face slick with sweat.

"We're done for today," the doctor said, taking the headgear off him and putting it aside.

She offered him a bottle of water which he gratefully accepted and took a long swig of.

“So, aside from the fatigue and headaches, how are you feeling now, Joseph? Are your memories getting less jumbled?”

“Uh… a little bit? That mental block that pops up whenever I try to remember stuff isn't as much a problem as it was before, but there's still certain things that make my mind scramble when I try to recall them. Like anything involving Torrez. I feel like… like there's something big in there about Torrez that Doyle locked away for me."

"Doyle's the neuroplugger who CT hacked you, right?"

"Yeah, and he tucked some important memories real deep in my cognitive. He must have been doing that for months without me ever realizing. Son of a bitch was trying to turn me into a dementia patient. Torrez has probably had him do that to a lot of other Emerald members who've 'known too much' too. I bet that's another memory I have that got locked away"

“I see. Well, it's getting late, so you should head on to the room the citadel's prepared for you. We'll pick up after your brain's had some time to rest. Oh, and there will be some officers who’ll be visiting the citadel to ask you some questions in the morning.”

“Great... More chats with the cops..." Jefferson groaned while he stood up and started for the exit. "Hey... Are you sure Torrez’s minions can’t reach me here?”

She sighed. “Joseph, we’ve been over this a dozen times now. Denver Citadel is the most formidable place in the Denver Metro area, possibly in the whole state of Colorado. It’s the biggest citadel in the Rockies region, and may as well be a fortress as far as Rogues were concerned. Teleporting in is impossible and trying to break in through brute force is akin to suicide with all the security and high-CL Hoplites in here. You honestly, couldn’t be in a safer place.”

The ex-Syndicate member let out a relieved sigh. “R-right. Thanks… Just need a little, uh… ‘reassurance’ from time to time.”

Jefferson left the room in an anxious state, the door sliding shut behind him. Once he was gone, the neurologist returned to the data on her computer screen, frustrated at the roadblocks that were taking seemingly forever to work through. Her thoughts were disturbed by the sound of the door sliding open once more and a new guest entering.

"How's the memory treatment going, Donna?" Donald asked as he entered.

The neurologist sighed, rubbing her temples. "Slowly. At first, I thought that his brain was mostly scrambled because of drug abuse, but it really is just the dirty work of one frighteningly skilled Rogue neuroplugger. Whoever this Doyle guy is, his ability to CT hack is scary."

"Okay. How would you describe how 'scary' he is specifically?"

“To make it a computer analogy – it’s as if he locked away certain memories within Jefferson’s brain and then took away Jefferson's permissions to access the folders that hold them. While the work I've been doing is making progress, you could speed the process up considerably by having ARES send you a competent neuroplugger of our own to mend some of the damage that's been done.”

“You and the other Pluggers at the citadel can’t manage it?”

“None of us specialize in things like Cognitive Terminal hacking, overseer. That’s a field where talented specialists are rare to find even in ARES.”

Donald sighed. “Alright then. Citadels in Texas and California should have a few skilled Pluggers to spare who fit the bill."

Donald and Donna's conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shives. Coming in after him were his daughter Tessa and his son Percival.

"Excuse us, overseer. I wasn't aware you and Dr. Russell were talking," Shives said.

"No, it's fine. We were just finishing up," Donald reassured. "What do you need, Shives?"

"My son here would like Dr. Russell to give him a quick Method Aptitude test."

"That's... if it wouldn't be too much of a bother, Dr. Russell," Percival said politely.

"Oh! Absolutely," Donna said, gesturing for Percival to take a seat in the chair Jefferson had used.

Percival sat down as Donna prepared the necessary equipment. She placed a headset on Percival and began the test, her eyes focused on the monitor displaying his results.

As the test progressed, Donald turned to Shives. "It's a surprise to see you bring both of your kids to the citadel, Shives."

"Percival is the one who asked to take the test. Initially, the plan was to schedule a test with a local neurologist, but I figured that we could simply ask Donna when she wasn't busy."

"Didn't make a whole lot of sense to bothering to go through that original trouble for a test that only takes a few minutes," Tessa added.

"Are you going to take the test too, Tessa?" Donald asked.

"Nah. I already know that I'm Aptitude-less. My CL is D2 too."

Donald made a face. "Really?"

"Why so shocked? There's no research that shows that psychic talent is inheritable."

"Well… Yeah, I guess that is true, isn't it? And it works both ways too."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my daughter Joey is pretty talented for her age despite my wife Sarah only being a CL-D4 and me being a CL-E4."

Tessa furrowed her brow. "E4? You've got a CL like that and you're an overseer? That's lower than me!"

"Tessa…" Shives said disapprovingly.

"S-sorry, Dad. I'm just, uh… surprised?"

Donald chuckled. "It's fine! I get where the reaction's coming from. The duty of an overseer isn't really related to being in the field with Hoplites, so we get passes for having low CLs. Joey's not like me or her mom at all, though. She's been gifted at pretty much everything since I could remember. If she did get it from anyone, it wouldn't be from me or Sarah."

Tessa blinked at the overseer a few times before returning her gaze to her brother. After a few more minutes, Donna removed the headset from Percival.

"All done," she said with a smile. "Give me a moment to analyze the data."

Percival stood up, looking a bit anxious as he awaited the results.

Donna studied the screen, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Interesting," she murmured.

"What is it?" Shives asked, stepping closer to the monitor.

Donna pointed at the screen. "Percival's got a high Aptitude for both Shaping and Shifting, just like you do, Shives. He's a Double-type."

"A Double, just like, Dad? Look at you!” Tessa exclaimed while ruffling her brother's hair against his will.

"Looks like you're a chip off the old block!" Donald praised.

Percival tried to play it cool, but he could only hide his pride so much. Few boys took greater pride in resembling their father than Percival Shives did.

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It was a merciless and almost sadistic lynching Renée was witnessing in the citadel's recreation room. Josephine and Kristopher were locked in an intense battle in the fighting game Fists of Absolution. Renée watched from a nearby seat, a bit jarred by how one-sided the bout was. The overseer's daughter was absolutely mauling Kris and had done so almost every match. His pride had made him request a 'best out of 5' with her.

It was not going well for him.

"You can't copycat your way out of this one, Kris," Joey teased while tormenting his character in the corner.

Kristopher gritted his teeth, his fingers furiously mashing the buttons and regain the advantage. Despite his best efforts, Joey's character unleashed a devastating final combo followed by a super move that depleted Kris's life bar empty.

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"No…" Kristopher groaned, dropping the controller and falling back in his seat, mortified by his defeat.

Joey grinned triumphantly from her side of the couch. "Better luck next time!"

"Looks like you've met your match, Kris," Renée said with a small smirk.

"Renée… You better not tell Arthur or Sonia about this."

"I won't. I'll just them the rec room's camera footage instead."

Kris clicked his tongue at her at her smug expression while Joey chuckled at their banter.

"So, this is what American Hoplites get up to when you're not fighting Rogues?" Tessa teasingly commented as she and her brother entered. "With as 'reputed' as North American Hoplites are, I thought you all would be a more serious bunch."

"Well, look who is," Kris said while glancing back over the couch "It's little Tess and Percy."

"C'mon now, Kristopher. I'm not 'little' anymore. I'll be turning sixteen this year."

Kris snorted as he gestured with his hand. "Please, you were this big when I met you for the first time at London Citadel; shorter than Jojo is right now. And your brother there was so small he was still riding on top of Shives's shoulders. I can't say I'll ever get over you kids being, well… kids."

"It's been a while you guys," Joey said, turned around and leaned over the couch. "What've been up to?"

"Nothing much. We're just strolling through the citadel while our father is discussing a few things with yours," replied Percival. "Say… how's your injuries?"

"Everything's great! Well… except for the migraines. They just won't go away. And they get so bad I can't even do stuff I used to do like gymnastics or martial arts until they go away. I've just been coming to the citadel with Dad more in the meantime."

"There's nothing wrong with your brain, is there?"

"Was that a rib?"

"N-no… I was just asking."

Renée came over and playfully ran her fingers through Joey's hair. "Nothing's wrong with this girl except she won't stay still like the doctor keeps telling her to. Her dad's complained about it a couple times now. That and how she hates taking her medicine."

"I keep telling Mom and Dad that medicine doesn't even work half the time. Plus, it makes me drowsy."

"And? You're an eleven-year-old on summer break. What do you need all that surplus energy for anyway? Just relax for a few days."

Joey groaned. "While I'm stuck 'relaxing', Matthias and Leon are going to run circles around me. They're already ahead as it is."

Percival put on a quizzical expression. "Who are Matthias and Leon?"

"Friends of Joey's that are her age," Renée explained. "The former's her neighbor, the latter does gymnastics with her, and both of them go to her gym."

"Apparently, they're both really talented for their ages" Kris added. "Jojo said that Leon kid is the most gifted acrobatic she's seen in her age group. And her next-door neighbor of hers…" The Hoplite shook his head. "I kinda can't believe some of the stuff Jojo's told us about him. He's the smartest kid she's ever known, and the second-strongest kid at their gym, and good at every sport, and can already use a bit of telekinesis and psychokinesis. Hell, he can apparently even teleport."

The Shives siblings' eyes widened as they listened. Was this boy really supposed to be only eleven? These were not the feats of a pre-teen psychic.

"You see now why I don't like having to 'relax' so much?" Joey asked. "I'm not trying to get left behind by those two. They'll leave me in the dust if I become too much of a potato!"

"And just how behind are you, anyway? Overseer Holloway said you were talented for your age too actually," said Tessa.

Joey shrugged. "Dad and Mom just exaggerate stuff like that because I'm an only child."

Kris snorted while Renée just shook her head.

"Please… You're better at athletics than I was at your age," Renée told her.

"Your PEC is insane too for a girl who's only eleven," added Kris. "I don't think you're nearly as far behind those boys as you think you are, Jojo."

"Outside of athletic stuff when I have equipment on, I can't do all the crazy things Matt and Leon can do normally," Josephine argued.

"That's because your PEC is really weak when it comes to the 'C' part. The day you figure out how to actually control your psy-energy, you're probably going to leave most of your peers in the dust."

Josephine eyed the Hoplite skeptically. Eventually, she shrugged and got up from the coach.

"If you say so. But I still think you guys are just playing me up because I'm the overseer's daughter."

"And why would we do that? For promotions?" Renée asked incredulously. "Donald would give any of us recommendations if we just asked. You don't need to kiss up to a guy like him."

Joey snorted while she set her controller down. "Well, I'm gonna go find Dad real quick. I've got to ask about dinner."

"You're not going to eat here? Isn't food always free at the cafeteria for family members of citadel personnel?" Percival asked.

"Dad says he was going to take me and Mom out to a restaurant downtown again — the Aegean Grove. It's owned by Leon's granddad, and the food is amazing. He said he would take us again tonight, but with the way he is, either Mom or I've got to remind him or else he forgets and gets lost in his work. Can't even call and ask him because he doesn't keep his personal phone on when he's at the citadel. Anyway, I'll see you guys."

Joey hurried on her way, not at a run but not at a leisurely gait either. A girl like her simply couldn't move too slowly unless she was forced to.

"Boy, she really can't relax, can she?" Tessa asked, an amused expression on her face.

"Hoplite Krohn, you said her PEC was 'insane.' What exactly did you mean by that?" asked Percival.

Kris hummed while he thought up a proper response. "What's an easy way I could explain… Ah! Percy, you know about Method Aptitudes right?"

The boy nodded. "I just had a test for mine done here at the citadel."

"Oh, cool. So, you should already understand that the average person either doesn't have an Aptitude for any of the Five Methods or just has one. Like me — I'm a Single-type with an Aptitude for Shaping. Renée here's a Double-type with an Aptitude for Projection and Tuning. Sonia is another Double-type with Aptitudes for Projection and Shaping. Ellie and Woodie are both Single-types; Ellie being a Tuner and Woodie being a Shifter. And your father's a Double-type too: a Shaper and a Shifter."

"Percy recently learned his Aptitudes are Shaping and Shifting too, actually," Tessa interjected.

Renée hummed impressively. "A Double-type and the same Aptitudes as your dad. I bet Shives is excited about that."

Percival tried to not show how much he was blushing, but he could barely hide his pride. Being a Double-type was a big deal in a world where most psychics didn't even have one Method Aptitude.

"Double-types are rare, right?" Kris continued. "But what's the only thing that's rarer?"

"A Triple?" Percival answered.

"Exactly. Three Method Aptitudes is the most a person can have, barring some Virtu like mine which technically lets me use all Five Methods at their optimal output depending on who I'm mimicking. You understand how rare Triple-types are, right Percy?"

The boy nodded before holding up nine fingers. "I can count all the Triple-types I've ever known personally known on both hands."

"Guess you're about to run out of digits then," Renée said.

Percival and his sister both gave her a perplexed look. Kris quickly clarified.

"You guys met a Hoplite called Arthur McBride before?" he asked.

"The Hoplite who's hunting down the Rockies Ripper?" Tessa asked. "Yeah, we met him on the day he caught that football coach who killed those two girls."

"Well, Arthur's a Triple-type. His Method Aptitudes are Perception, Projection, and Shifting."

The revelation was a shock for the Shives siblings. They shouldn't have been so surprised. McBride was apparently a CL-S1 who, despite his dicey record, had a reputation as an amazing fighter. Even their father, who took jabs at McBride quite a bit, acknowledged that the Hoplite's combat ability should never be understated.

"Still, he's such a… What's the word?" Percival muttered, trying to think of an accurate but not overly offensive adjective. "He's a very unserious man. Compared to father, he doesn't carry himself as a person as gifted as he is. Still, that's only nine Triple-types I know now personally. I can count all of those on both hands."

Renée smirked. "You don't know ten Triple-types personally, Percival. You know eleven."

"…Excuse me?"

"That red-headed tomboy who just left the recreation room? Yeah, she's a Triple-type too," Kristopher confessed.

The revelation made Percival's mouth drop.

"Are you serious?"

Kris nodded. "Projection, Tuning, and Shifting are her Method Aptitudes. Jojo's problem, as long as Renée and I've known her, is that she's got too much fuel in the tank if that makes any sense."

"She'll jump way higher and run much faster than other kids without meaning to. If she's not extremely focused or wearing a limiter that makes her psy-energy going erratic impossible. Even gymnastics and martial arts, which she's really good at, are impacted by the fact that she has a hard time keeping her powers under control."

"It's like a bundle of energy inside of her is trying to break free. She thinks me and Renée are always buttering her up when we say it, but she really is going to be a genuine monster five to seven years from now."

Tessa muttered in amazement. "Overseer Holloway wasn't exaggerating when he talked about Josephine being 'gifted.'"

Her shock paled in comparison to Percival's. He had been hailed as a young prodigy back in England, considered even more talented than his father at his age. Now he learned there were peers like Josephine and her friends Matthias and Leon who might be more gifted in PEC than him. If they outworked him too, how would he fare among these fellow prodigious youths?

"Percy? …Percy!"

Annoyed at her voice going ignored, Tessa shook Percival's shoulder to bring her scatter-brained brother back to earth.

"H-huh? What is it, Tess?"

"I was asking if you're alright."

"I'm fine. It's just… I'm going to study and work much harder than I thought going forward. I know we've traveled a lot, but still… the world turned out to be much bigger than I initially thought."

Kristopher and Renée exchanged a knowing look. An interesting seed had just been planted. The Hoplites both knew that the coming generation was going to be a very interesting one.

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Jefferson tossed and turned in the bed, shivering. He knew his chills and goosebumps weren't from the AC being too high. They were from withdrawals. He hadn't had a 'lick' since he first entered protective custody, and it was taking its toll on him. Eventually, he became sick of endlessly tossing and turning in his bed and got up. Antsy, he anxiously paced around the room ARES had temporarily provided as his living quarters.

"Shit… I need a lick," he muttered while running a trembling hand through his hair. "But there's no way I could sneak anything in here without them noticing. Can't get it delivered, and I sure as hell can't leave. Torrez probably has half a dozen hitters ready to take me out the second I'm two miles from this citadel…"

Jefferson almost shrunk into a ball as he ruminated on the sorry state of his life. He got into the Syndicate world — a realm considered dark and ugly even from the perspective of regular street gangs — because he was dishonorably discharged from the military and it beat the hell out of waging his life away at a regular job. But he had underestimated how 'grimy' this world could be, got too cocky and complacent, and ended up losing everything.

Including his girlfriend.

"All because I talked her into helping me steal some Witch Venom. Goddammit, man…!"

The plan was to steal some product, make a quick buck, and then leave the US and his old Syndicate life behind by settling in the Philippines or somewhere far away and with plenty of beaches. That plan went horribly awry. His girlfriend was caught and made an example out of. Jefferson knew that Torrez and her captains knew he had a hand in it, and were just awaiting a moment to string him up and have him 'take a trip' just like his lover had.

Had he been any slower to escape and unwilling to become an informant for the authorities, Jefferson had no doubt he'd be cut to pieces and scattered in various landfills throughout the Denver metro. So, he was alive… but at what cost? Now he was a pathetic snitch dependent on witness protection who couldn't leave the citadel unless he wanted to run into an Emerald assassin before the next morning. But worse even than that were the withdrawals he was suffering from.

"Dammit, man! I need a fix…"

Jefferson's eyes widened as a realization struck him. ARES citadels as large as Denver's always had personal pharmacies. He scratched at his chin while considering the possibilities.

"…Maybe if I tell them I'm having bad migraines, they'll give me a painkiller or something?"

The thought made him feel pathetic, but in his current state, a little more shame meant nothing. He left his room and headed for the in-citadel pharmacy, following the directions from a holographic map of the building that could be found on each floor. The ARES personnel he passed eyed him suspiciously. He knew what they thought of a Syndicate snitch turned scumbag like himself, but his withdrawal symptoms were too severe at the moment for him to care.

Once at the pharmacy, Jefferson noticed the ARES pharmacist was absent.

"Hello? Anyone here?" he asked at the counter.

The lack of a response made the informant smile. After a quick glance around, he hopped over the counter and sneaked into the back. Security was lax here as no one expected an insider to pull such a stunt. Using his phone as a light, Jefferson scanned the shelves until he found the persecution he sought. It wasn't the type of stuff he normally used to get his fix, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Jefferson's hands trembled as he shoved the pill bottles into his pockets. He was cold again. Extremely cold. At first, he chalked it up to the intensity of his withdrawals, but then he saw his own breath misting in front of his face.

"Shit, it's cold back here! Like a damn freezer," he said while rubbing his arms. "I gotta head back to my room..."

Jefferson finally turned to leave, but as he did so, he froze. A stranger stood before him blocking the exit. Somehow, they had entered the room without Jefferson ever noticing. This was not the pharmacist. The stranger was not part of ARES at all. The hooded coat he wore did not bear the ARES insignia anywhere on it, but it did obscure the stranger's face with its shadow. Jefferson's eyes darted to the blade gleaming in the stranger's gloved hand, and immediately knew what this person was there for.

Even if he had time to plead with them, he wouldn't have bothered. There would have been no point. People affiliated with Syndicates never showed mercy when business was involved, and ending Jefferson's life was obviously this stranger's business.

All the informant could do was let out one final shriek as the hooded figure slashed their blade at him and painted room's wall of the pharmacy red with splatters of his blood.