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| - A simple injection of sedatives administered at regular intervals had taken care that the two prisoners would not wake before they were intended to. Oh certainly they could have drifted awake as they were being taken to their new quarters, but only now were they allowed to wake back up. The room they were both put in was in truth not much of one, the outside sky, a muggy, cloudy day by the grey tones, allowed in at several points as the durasteel had rotted away over the years. An odd screeching sound could be heard, not quite that of nails dragging on chalkboard but certainly no less annoying. Small cameras in the room, invisible to the naked eye, gave those outside the room a great view of the two within and at the first sign of them stirring, Rainier comes back from his daydreaming. The man was leaning against a far corner, the task of keeping an eye over the monitors left to others. Brek sits at the monitors, his white-armored fingers gliding over a keyboard to alter the focus of the cameras. Every so often he does this, zeroing in Myiari's face. For whatever reason, the sight of her unconscious form seems to continually draw his contemplation, though for what reasons seem entirely uncertain. His expressions every time he allows himself a look range between anger, grief, and no small amount of fascination. Now, finally, he glances over his shoulder to Rainier, his featureless helmet clicking as he speaks through the metallic filter. "Sir, I know it isn't my place to ask this, but I don't understand why we haven't taken them off-planet. It seems to me that places like this would be some of the first the Rebels would search through, and it's not as if we couldn't get them through the spaceport. What are we going to do with them here?" Within a few seconds of waking, the full gravity of the situation hits Myiari like a brick of duracrete to the head, her face going pale and her expression shifting into one of abject fear. She quickly shuffles herself into a corner of the room - presum, drawing up her knees and clamping her hands over her ears, whimpering softly and shaking her head all the while, trembling. "This isn't happening," she murmurs to herself. "This isn't happening. Not again..." The screeching noise doesn't seem to help calm her nerves either. Within a few seconds of waking, the full gravity of the situation hits Myiari like a brick of duracrete to the head, her face going pale and her expression shifting into one of abject fear. She quickly shuffles herself into a corner of the room - presumably furthest away from the door - drawing up her knees and clamping her hands over her ears, whimpering softly and shaking her head all the while, trembling. "This isn't happening," she murmurs to herself. "This isn't happening. Not again..." The screeching noise doesn't seem to help calm her nerves either. The first thing the Senator notices as he comes to in the chair he had been deposited in is a throbbing headache that wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Looking around the room, Tokoga surveys their new surroundings. No doubt they were being watched, that would just be a question of where from. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. "This isn't the time, Myiari," he says, frowning slightly at the curled-up medic with her hands clamped over her ears. "We have to stay focused. We need to know where we are...do you recognize that noise?" The last part is added more of an annoyed afterthought, but the source of that screeching might be a valuable clue. "What am I supposed to do with a Senator and a medic? Imperial politicians are quite tedious enough without having to import enemy ones, and our doctors are good enough.", Rainier answers, a yawn let out before he begins to stretch, first his arms then his body turned this way and that and lastly, a few wild leaps first on one foot and then the other to end it all. All in all, a rather ridiculous show, especially with how lanky the man looks. "Let's go then.", he says at last before walking towards the door that leads in, the doorknob turned and the entrance swinged wide open, walking past it, the task of closing it left to Brek. "Greetings, your dreams were pleasant I hope?" Brek accepts the explanation in silence, following Rainier in wordlessly. He turns to shut the door, sealing it with a loud clang before retreating to stand at its side. His demeanor is crisp and military, his uniform utterly faceless and devoid of any individual characteristics. Unlike before, now he's just a stormtrooper, stoic and silent in a sheath of white plastoid. He scarcely moves, and any expression he might have in reaction to the events unfolding are obscured completely by the helmet. His posture remains utterly unchanging. Myiari says nothing in response - not to the Mon Calamari's questions, and not to Rainier's - still cowering in her corner, and attempting to make herself appear as small as possible, pressing her back even further against the wall she sits against. Though her whimpers have lessened somewhat, she still seems stuck in her own little world, oblivious if not outright ignoring everything going on around her. "Oh, yes. _Completely_ refreshing, it's been far too long since I last took an E-11 to the face; you'll have to do it again sometime." Tokoga quips, his words acidic with his distaste for the Imperial officer corps. "Just who are you, and what do you think you're getting out of capturing civilians on planets that don't belong to you?" He gestures pointedly at Myiari through the latter part of his sentence. "Senator, please, we are not criminals, we do not kidnap people. Consider this a, what would be a proper term for this?", the question asked of the stormntrooper beside him and Rainier turns to look to Brek, although after a moment of staring at the unmoving features carved out on the helmet, he simply shrugs. "Your friend and yourself will be allowed to go very quickly, for that matter within a handful of hours if you cooperate. You have my word on that, but my word means little to you. Check on her, trooper, see that she isn't in real harm.", the slight interuption in his train of thoughts offered without so much as a glance to either Brek or Myiari. "Will you answer our questions and provide the information we want freely?" Wordlessly, Brek strides forward to examine Myiari. Leaning down to look her eye-to-visor, he circles around, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder and give her a vague shake. "Cut that out," he snaps, his voice soft yet menacing as it echoes through his helmet. He gives it a moment or two before looking back up to Rainier, reporting somewhat unnecessarily, "She's in shell-shock, sir. Seen it before. She's barely even here." His voice is cold and dispassionate as he rises, returning to his post instead of lingering by the medic. Again, Myiari scarcely responds. She shies away from Brek's hand when he grabs for her, her body becoming more tense for a few brief moments before she further wedges herself into the corner, her whimpering resuming. "I will do no such thing," Tokoga crosses his arms defiantly. Rainier is quite right--he's had experiences with the Empire before, and the word of an Imperial officer is worth less to the Senator than the time it takes him to hear it. The room itself was not particular large, but as he looked back at the doorway, it swinged open, or rather it opened a few moments later. A pair of men in outfits similar to Brek's enter, one of the stormtroopers carrying a small table and the other a pair of chairs. One chair is placed beside Tokoga, the table in front of that and the second chair on the other side of that. Rainier taking the one facing Tokoga's. "Sit down please, I will explain to you what the rules for the time you are under my care." The grey-haired man turns to Brek, "Please go ahead and bring the medic to the living. But do not be too rough with it, it wouldn't serve our purpose to have her sustain critical damage yet." Brek steps aside to permit the entrance of his compatriots and returns to his place by the door. One hand settles onto his E-11, squeezing tightly as though for reassurance. His helmet turns, first to Myiari and then to the Mon Calamari Senator. Then his focus returns to the wall opposite, his demeanor suggesting that he, as well as the medic, is taking a backseat to the events occurring in the cell. Even his breathing can scarcely be heard through his filter. Only when he is given the order does he march forward in silence, grasping Myiari by the shoulders. "Focus," he commands tersely. "It'll go better for you if you do. We don't want to hurt you if you don't have to. I know you're listening, even if you don't want to." Unlike before, Myiari reacts this time. Violently. Her eyes snap open, wide - almost fearful - as she frantically attempts to shrug Brek's hands off her. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" she screams, her hands rising to shove the trooper away. At the same time, she kicks out at his right leg. "Get away!" "I prefer to stand," Tokoga says, remaining where he is and obviously refusing for the sake of not going along with Rainier's request. "I don't trust furniture that has to be brought in by someone with a gun." Rainier's order to Brek unsettles the Senator, but it doesn't come as much of a surprise. The fact that he can't do anything about just makes it worse, but he can't complain about her treatment too much or they'd just start using her as leverage to get whatever it is they want from him. Still, the violent reaction from Myiari is enough to push the Senator over the edge. "Let her go, Rainier! She is of no consequence to you or your business with me!" "That is rule number one, Senator. Her presence is a direct consequence of her relation to you, and yours to her. Powerful people cannot afford to let themselves get close to others not of their blood, it represents a particular soft and vulnerable underbelly for others to get at. And what happens to her will occur because of your refusal to answer my questions. Now, sit down Senator, or must I demonstrate just what it is that I mean.", Rainier replies, his voice remaining normal, banal even, despite the rather chilling warning he has just issued. He tilts his head slightly to the side after Myiari's kick, the interactions between the erstwhile...friends observed with some amusement displayed. "No. Sorry." Brek's armor absorbs the kick with an audible clatter, and he responds by slapping her lightly across the face. "You need to get up. Don't make me hurt you. It would be inefficient, but my superior has given me leave." He hesitates, smacking his glove lightly against Myiari's cheek as though to emphasize his point. "I'd rather you cooperate." Despite the metallic compression the filter enforces on his voice, the genuine nature of the statement shines through, and he hesitates, even as he draws his gauntletted hand back. "I said STAY AWAY!" she says again, emphasizing her last two words with another violent kick. Myiari curls up on herself, her arms rising to cover her face, her fingers gripping tightly at her head. "It's a lie. You're lying," she adds, a bit more quietly, shrinking back against the wall and trembling once more like a trapped animal. "You're all the same." By now the medic is bordering on hysterical, looking almost on the verge of tears, though the panic seems to prevent her from breaking down completely. Defeated, Tokoga takes a seat across the table from Rainier. After watching the melee between Brek and Myiari dejectedly for a few seconds, he looks back at the officer, regarding him with an impatient, annoyed air. "This is where you tell me what it is you want, and I'm going to tell you it isn't going to happen. Can we skip that part and move on to what's next?" "Your friend is not doing well, I can considerably worsen her physical and mental state of being, Senator, so please, enough with the bravado.", Rainier replies before turning once more to observe Brek aqnd Myiari, for a moment, a brief one, his lips part, as if on the verge of issuing some command or comment before finally he shuts up, no sound having come from him. "You are a member of the Defence Council, you are known to have a professionally warm relation with the Chief of State and a few other things. We will need all your personal access information to the defence council's databases, both physical access codes as well as the computerized ones. We could have broken in with time, by why risk it when we could have just asked." "No, I'm not. I'm being entirely truthful." The kick, once again, bounces off of Brek's armor with a hollow clatter, and he grabs Myiari forcefully, lifting her up to her feet in a smooth, yet forceful gesture. "Our sameness aside, Ms. Oerstead, we need you to be cooperative. Keep it together and give us what we want, and this will go very, -very- smoothly. Don't make me hurt you." He glances over his shoulder to Rainier, remarking offhandedly, "She's responsive enough, sir. I think she's enough in the world of the living to be useful." Myiari says nothing, even as she's hauled to her feet, but she keeps attempting to violently squirm away from Brek's grip. For a few brief moments, the terror dissipates somewhat, giving way to a small modicum of sense. Enough sense for her to lash out once more in another kick, only this time she aims - right at the exposed black bodysuit between the plates of white armor near Brek's groin. <SKILL> Myiari rolls a 29 for her MELEE COMBAT skill. An Excellent roll! <SKILL> Brek rolls a 17 for his DODGE skill. A Good roll! "I value my friends and their well-being, Rainier, but I'm a pragmatist." Tokoga looks away from Rainier as he speaks, his arms still crossed as he sits reclined in his chair. This is all too familiar situation for Tokoga--sitting in a room with frustrated Imperial officers seeking computer credentials related to his political office, the threats to his close friends, inevitably followed by beatings and ego-reducing drugs designed to make ones conscience pliable and useless. Yeah, he'd been there before, and after forty years, he isn't expecting Imperial interrogation policy to be any different. "The things you and your friends could do with my mainframe codes are far worse than whatever you could do to either one of us. You're wasting your time, go back to your slicers if they're so adept." "What is it people and not accepting defeat gracefully?", whether his comments is drawn by Myiari's successful, if badly-considered or Tokoga's reply to his response, Rainier does not say more than that, instead the man reachdes into his jacket, the same one as before, a small device, little larger than holo-tv remotes, but there are two protrsions at one end. Some might recognize it as a slaver's implement, electric shocks delivered from one end. One such shock is sent without hesitation at Myiari, twin bolts aimed at Myiari's side. "You do not have an appreciation for what one can do when in pain, and more importantly you do not really understand just how saintly a person you are. Nowk, those codes please." Brek's grip slackens as he steps away, a muffled grunt emerging from his helmet filter. The pain, at least for the moment, appears to overwhelm him, and he staggers back several steps into a wall, his hands descending to cradle the afflicted area. A string of Corellian swear words follow the initial expression of pain, and it's only after a few seconds that he composes himself sufficiently to stand, one hand resting on his E-11, one armored thumb flicking it to the 'stun' setting. "Look, just remember that you had a choice," he mutters, shaking his head and marching forward again. Myiari lets out a sharp cry as the electricity strikes her, clutching gingerly at her side as she stumbles back into the wall, her face contorted into a mask of pain. The shock, however, seems to have dragged her out of whatever terrified stupor she had been in, and she smirks - albeit faintly - at Brek. "I really hope you felt that, plastic boy. Serves you right." (speaking in Corellian) "I assure you, I do," Tokoga says, though he does turn one of his eyes toward Myiari as she gets struck by the bolt from the slaver's tool. "You people tend to bring that understanding with them wherever you go." After a few seconds of silence, during which he catches a glimpse of Myiari's swift kick to Brek's groin, Tokoga leans forward over the table and changes his expression, as if having a sudden change of heart. "How about we compromise? I'll give you the password to my public Senate inbox. You can read all about the problems people have on your account that we have to pick up after. Would that do it for you, Rainier?" Rainier smiles as expected, after all, what is the purpose of a joke if it is not appreciated by its intended recipients. "Trooper, please strike Miss Oerstead with your rifle.", the calm words belying that what he is commanding is in fact a rather brutal assault, "Senator.", he says as he looks back to the alien across the table from him, "You are a frail old man but I would rather not be forced to set the trooper here on you. Trust me on this, I speak from watching it occur several times. EVeryone has a breaking point, it does not matter whether they are a hardened soldier or even one of your Jedis. And given your age, yours will come sooner or later, but so too might we precipitate a sudden death, and that serves neither of us." "Yes, Lieutenant." Brek marches forward, unclipping the E-11 and tossing it so that the butt end is pointed away from him. Though a slight limp continues to accompany his movements, the clear symptom of the ebbing pain in his groin, his grip remains steady and his strikes are methodical and businesslike as he reaches Myiari and clubs her brutally. First toward the stomach, with a sharp, ruthless jab, and then across the face, the rifle blurring dangerously through the air with a trained precision. "No more playtime," he remarks, almost offhandedly. <SKILL> Brek rolls a 22 for his MELEE COMBAT skill. An Excellent roll! <SKILL> Myiari rolls a 22 for her DODGE skill. An Excellent roll! <SKILL> Brek rolls a 15 for his MELEE COMBAT skill. An Average roll! <SKILL> Myiari rolls a 33 for her DODGE skill. A Heroic roll! Although she's still reeling from the effects of the stun rod, Myiari braces herself against the wall, fully expecting the rifle to come at her. Instead of impacting, the medic manages to catch the butt in her hands before it can even hit. She stares into the Stormtrooper's visor, a strangely dark, malicious look almost foreign to her usual demeanor dominating her features. "You missed," she replies curtly. With little fanfare, she jerks the rifle toward her and just past her side, at the same time thrusting her elbow at Brek's throat, again aiming for the unprotected black bodysuit. <SKILL> Myiari rolls a 21 for her MELEE COMBAT skill. An Excellent roll! <SKILL> Brek rolls a 16 for his DODGE skill. A Good roll! Tokoga's initial reaction is to discreetly avert his eyes from Myiari and what she's being subjected to, but his conscience doesn't let him keep that up. Before long, his eyes find their way back onto Myiari, the Senator hoping that his apologetic gaze and what he had said to Rainier so far helped her understand why he can't stop them. "I have nothing else to say," Tokoga answers without turning his head. Rainier tsks softly before rising up, the slavers' stun gun put to use and the dose of electricity directed at Myiari in th e few moments between the time he was sitting down and the taser was activated. But for good measure, the woman is shocked once more, not enough to knock her out but perhaps enough to cool her down enough for the next thing he has in mind. "Trooper, collect the medic and place her on the chair right here.", the one he just left pointed to. He moves to stand beside the chair in question, on Myiari's eventual right. "Yessir, Lieutenant," comes the crisp, machined reply. He reaches out to grab Myiari by the arms, lugging her forcefully across the room and slamming her into her chair roughly. Stepping back, he eyes her up and down, even though the helmet managing to convey his irritation. At length he draws back his gauntlet and backhands her roughly, letting his arm fall as he moves to stand at the woman's left. This time he seems prepared, raising his E-11 and keeping it pointed at her in anticipation of further, potentially humiliating assault. Myiari lets out a sharp, shrill cry as she's shocked again, the pain enough to stall her attack and send her crumpling to the floor, only to be hauled up by Brek and dragged over to the chair. This time she makes no move to retaliate, instead opting to clutch at her sides, doubled over in pain and watching the two men at either side of her through narrowed eyes. Tokoga watches on in sympathetic silence, his elbows resting on the table and his head resting dejectedly atop his clasped hands--this kind of treatment from Imperials was part and parcel of his life for a good ten years, it would take more than a few beatings with a rifle butt and a few well-placed shocks from slaving implements to get him to release the access codes he desires. Of course, he's not a machine, and its obvious that the scene is taking its emotional toll. "Do you know what kind of person does these things to an unoffending sentient?" he asks quietly. "You're pathologically sociopathic, Rainier, you realize this." Rainier's answer to Tokoga's plea, or is it a rebuke, consists only of a snicker, "Unoffending? How many stormtroopers have you killed, how many children orphaned, how many families destroyed? And your useless war that you fight, how many systems are plunged into utter chaos because you have to play the hero? How many decades must we know nothing but war and chaos simply because you won't accept proper law and order? Senator, you still do not understand what seperates us two do you?", Rainier answers, the intelligence officer looking over the two prisoners with something approaching dispassion, much like a farmer would observe prized cattle, deciding which to part with first. "Nothing does. Either I will be a hero for helping bring about the downfall of your Republic in some way, or you will be for thwarting an Imperial plot. Or I will be a bad person for bring about the downfall of the Republic, or you will be for stopping the order that the Empire wishes to create. It's all just a matter of view. What matters at the end of the day for you and me is that I have you in my control and you have but one way of sparing yourself and your friend a lot of pain." The stun gun is holstered in his belt before his blaster is removed, and the man makes his way around the table, fiddling with the blaster's setting. "Trooper, have you ever played around with the settings of your rifle, have you figured out precisely what amount of pain will cause the flesh to burn off a person's skin without actually going through the bone?" "No, sir, Lieutenant," comes the reply, quieter than the trooper's previous statements. Even despite the helmet's filter, some amount of anger and frustration could be detected in the words he spoke to Myiari. "Never." After a hesitant moment, his helmet shifting as he follows Rainier's movements. "My training is shoot to kill or shoot to stun." He glances away from his superior, turning to Tokoga, the helmet tilting downward slightly as he now addresses the Mon Calamari. "Sir, you should consider giving him what he wants." A moment, to allow the words to sink in, and then he adds, somewhat unnecessarily, "He isn't bluffing." Though difficult to see through the black bodysuit beneath the white plastoid, his grip on his rifle has tightened - perhaps for reassurance. Myiari rubs at her reddened and slightly swollen cheek where she had been backhanded not even a minute before, however, at Rainier's words, the terror that had afflicted her earlier returns in full force, her eyes widening. Immediately she presses herself back into her chair, curling up and attempting to make herself as small as possible, her body trembling, and her breaths coming in shallow whimpers. "No..." she pleads, though who exactly she says it to is unclear. "Please, don't. Please. If you're going to shoot me, just shoot me; just please don't do -that-!" (Ed. If thiese poses seems odd, its because the switch of attention wasn't immediately clear to some, so the fact Rainier was directing the threat at Tokoga rather than Myiari kinda got glossed over. Myself, I realized this about three and a half seconds before posing.) "Spare me your soporific attempts at argumentation, Lieutenant." Tokoga retorts, just as quietly, calmly and slowly as he had spoken before, but with a much harsher and vindictive undertone. "You have no idea who I am or what I've done. Or who she is and what she's done. Or you may know the content but not the context." The Senator hasn't moved from his sitting position with his heads on his hands, and still has his gaze more or less locked on Myiari, trying not to give away his emotional state and doing all in all quite well for someone about to subjected to what Rainier has just proposed. Realistically, he knows that there's nothing that could be done. In all likelihood, they'd be killing the both of them as soon as they got what they wanted anyway, so at this point he's doing the only thing he can while denying them their gratification. "But you don't care about any of that, do you?" Tokoga shifts his gaze up to Brek as he approaches. "Semantics don't exist for you, I suppose. Just orders and how to follow them, like a good military man? He tells you to flay flesh from bone to get me to tell him a string of alphanumerics, and you set right to the task. How noble of you." The intel officer just lets Tokoga's part of their back and forth banter wash over him, the words drawing nothing more than a grin from the kan. But his attention, the bulk of it anyway, was on his weapon, the settings on it played aroud with until a triumphant nod was given. "And if tomorrow an order was sent to bomb a settlement or destroy a civilian cruiser for XYZ reason, valid on the face of it, you're telling me your people wouldn't. But enough of the back and forth. Let's see if I get this right.", the blaster is first aimed at the Mon Cal's right leg, the calf to be more precise, but he slowly draws it away, pointing it to the nearest edge of the table. And moments later, the weapon's trigger is pressed, a bright yellow bolt sent hurling the few inches towards it. The surface of it beginning to melt away at a steady pace, and that's durasteel. "Any last words Senator, how about you Miss Oerstead. Want to appeal to your friend's rational side before I am forced to carve him up?" "I'm trained to follow orders, Senator," Brek adds, grimly. "Just like your Rebel soldiers." He offers no further commentary on the situation at hand, but the light from the blaster glints unpleasantly on the side of his ugly helmet. His head cants to one side, and he glances down at his own gun as though for the purpose of comparison. Absently his thumb rises, pressing the settings knob further downward, though it's already as far down as it can go, firmly switched to its stun mode. With that done, he glances toward Myiari, waiting to see if she will speak up before Rainier begins shooting. For several long moments Myiari remains silent, her head tilted downward, unable to bring herself to watch the Senator's imminent torture. Just as Rainier raises his blaster, she speaks up. "Wait. I can get you the information you want," she blurts out softly, though by the time she realizes what exactly she's said, it's too late to take it back. "I've...broken into the Chief of State's office before and disabled the security cameras. I mean...it wasn't me, but they were using my knowledge and my skills, so I could probably do it again." She glances up, swallowing hard as she gazes at Tokoga, her expression apologetic. "If I offer to slice into the system, will you refrain from harming the Senator?" "The only thing I have to say, Rainier, is that I'm sorry you weren't here long enough to understand," he says solemnly. "I don't suppose as a last favor, you'd promise to read my book on the Empire? I hear its on the top tier of the prohibited literature list over there these days." The Mon Calamari eyes the durasteel, trying not to think of things like how long the wound would progress before cauterizing and debating whether the muscles should be tensed or relaxed at impact. At some point, thinking like that is useless. "Myiari?!" Tokoga is quickly drawn out of that downward depressing spiral of thought by the young medic's outburst, and quickly begins berating her idea for as long as the Imperials let him. "They're talking about the master defense mainframe, not some door! Even if you could, don't you know what they could do with that? They could cut supplies, isolate reinforcements, reroute entire fleets into waiting Imperial deathtraps! I am _nothing_ compared to the cost of them having free reign over our defense infrastructure!" Rainier turns back to Myiari, a brow arched as suddenly he is offered a way out, "Well that's fortuitous. Don't listen to him, he's lived a sheltered life, he doesn't have an appreciation ofr what people can do to save themselves and those they care some needless pain." But just in case Tokoga's words start getting through, the man looks back at the Senator, his hand whipping upwards suddenly, the blaster's butt squarely aimed at Tokoga's head, a gesture to match the one that had previously knocked out Tokoga. "Trooper, inform our friend in the computer room that we'll have help soon enough and move the Senator to it, we'll hav to make certain that Miss OErstead has proper motivation to do her best." Myiari cringes noticeably at the Mon Calamari's words, but the expression on her face afterwards seems to indicate that she already knows the implications of what she's doing, and she seems far from happy about it. "I'm sorry, Tokoga," she mumbles, keeping her head turned away from him. "But I can't... I'm not going to watch someone die like that. Not again..." Her eyes flutter shut, and she laughs softly - bitterly - to herself. "I've never been good at choosing which lives to save," she adds, speaking only loud enough for Brek or Rainier to just barely hear her. "Yes, sir, Lieutenant," Brek replies, marching forward once the Mon Calamari has been incapacitated. He lifts the body up, seemingly without effort, and slings it across his shoulder in a simple carry. With a nod to Rainier he walks toward the door of the cell, his other hand still clutched fiercely around his blaster. The brief scuffle with the medic seems to have set him on edge, and he doesn't appear to be taking any more unnecessary risks around her. Reaching out to open the door, however, he glances back over his shoulder, the ugly face of his helmet fixed on Myiari. The beginnings of a sentence emerge from the innards of his helmet, but he cuts himself short, shakes his head, and continues out of the room, Tokoga's head dangling limply over his shoulder.
- Dark clouds loomed overhead. Amanogawa City had an air of depression about it; with nobody out of their places of refuse in case that they were assaulted by Crimson Sovereigns. The rain refused to cease, impacting upon the city as if it were enraged by the inhabitants. Thunder and lightning shot down from the skies, as if aiming to strike some unfortunate sap who dared to win a Darwin Award and leave their home. Unexpectedly, a pulse of crimson shot from the ground as a lobster-styled monster scurried about. This beast possessed deadly, vermillion eyes and sharp fangs; carrying a humanoid figure despite being crustacean in origin. Its target was a small girl who had gotten lost in the park, who ran for her dear life, tears welling up in her eyes as the lobster beast's grin widened maliciously. Trip. The youngster tripped over a rock, slamming face-down upon the wet grass as the lobster monster gripped her thin waist, ready to eviscerate her in an instant. However, before it could do such a deed, the beast was flung into the air with tremendous force, unable to comprehend what was occurring. Never in two millennia has there been a force powerful enough to stand up to a Crimson Sovereign until now. As it landed back upon the ground, it felt the slight push of a gun-barrel upon its head. The tone "1-0-3" resounded throughout the air, as the barrel of the gun became charged with an ethereal crimson light, before being unleashed as a form of an enormous wave of crimson spiritual energy akin to a Cero, obliterating the beast in an instant, leaving nothing but a disintegrating body that broke down into reishi wisps which scattered to the winds of Soul Society. The young girl opened her eyes in disbelief, as she noticed the figure before her. An armoured being with a raven coloured skintight body suit which covered all but his head and several pieces of jet-black armour which were affixed upon the shoulders, arms up to the elbow, legs, and upper chest area over this stood before her. The armour upon the ankles, shoulders and wrists had several jagged and crimson-lined protrusions on the back, along with golden vents on several sections. They had a helmet with a glistening visor and two antennae which covered all but their mouth and chin of the armour with a small vent at the back of their head which allowed his ponytail to flow forth. A crimson, long, tattered scarf was bound around their neck, which billowed in the wind. "…Who are you…?" The shrill voice left the young girl's voice, as the solitary figure responded, "Just passing through. Remember that." Without any hesitation, the armoured figure lifted the young girl into its arms, before carrying her back to her home. As the armoured figure departed, the armour dissipated as the one playing the role of the hero left. They bore the appearance of a young, very feminine male with a petite and slender frame, much like a woman's, and light brown eyes. He had light pink hair which reached down to his waist, and was tied up in a simple braid, and had two bangs going down to his chin. He wore the most simple of apparel; a red sleeveless t-shirt and baggy azure jeans, completing his attire with brown sandals. This was Zakura Terui, detective in training and recent amnesiac who desired to change the world and find out who he was. He had noticed something; the grey rain of depression and the thunderclouds had dissipated the moment that he had destroyed the Lobster Crimson Sovereign. That was it. Perhaps the appearances of the Crimson Sovereigns were connected to the weather? A possibility, but a valid theory. Zakura trudged back to the apartment in which he and Yuuki Kaburagi stayed at; his stomach was grumbling and he wished for nothing but a nice, hot meal. As the sun began to show itself, dozens of people began to leave their homes in disbelief, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from their backs, allowing them to walk carefree. However, deep inside, the denizens of Amanogawa City realized that there would be many, many other Crimson Sovereign attacks; this terror was endless. It seemed like hell on earth, but that could be considered an overstatement to be honest. Zakura sighed; though he was able to track down Crimson Sovereigns through the 'blood-eyed' method and sensing changes in weather patterns, he hadn't been able to pick up any cases so far. He felt as if he couldn't realize his desire, make it complete; all he was stuck on was killing the hell out of those beasts. "Oi. You." A voice called out, as Zakura looked around in panic, before noticing a young man resting against a tree; his arms crossed and his eyes closed, appeared as if he weren't paying attention at all. This person was a slim, yet muscular and toned young man of average height with dull red hair, which was kept in spiky strands jutting outwards in every direction, and a smaller, frontal tuft of hair partially hanging on his forehead. He had slanted eyes, and above the right one a thin scar was visible, diagonally going up his forehead. His left ear was adorned by an earring, with a prominent metal pendant reminiscent of a double-edged blade attached to it. On his left shoulder, he had an oddly shaped tattoo. "…Huh?" Zakura seemed confused, before regaining his attitude and rushing over to him, thrusting out his hand with a smile on his face. The young man's scowl was apparent; it was clear he didn't want anything to do with Zakura, swatting his hand away fiercely. "Ugh—hey, what was that for?" Zakura asked, now slightly annoyed by this person, who silenced him easily. "…I was wondering, if you were to fight them, would you show even a sliver of mercy to those Crimson Sovereigns?" Zakura responded, "…They're like the rest of us. You get some good ones, and you get some bad ones. If I didn't extend my hand out to them, they may never receive salvation." Zakura was a firm believer in this philosophy. Everyone, no matter how well hidden it was had light inside of them, no matter how deep it was. "Guh. Such idealistic bullshit. No matter how well hidden it is, all of those things are evil, and are threatening our world. They're just good actors, and they can fool idiots like you oh so easily." The young man opened his left eye slightly, revealing his slitted, dark blue eyes. "You just don't understand. Showing mercy is a sign of weakness, idiot. If you let them know you actually give a damn, being the soulless bastards they are, they'll take advantage of it and commit more atrocities behind your back. I'll purge this world of the Crimson Sovereigns, and I won't pull any punches." This man bluntly stated, as Zakura snapped, throwing a nasty right hook at him, which the man effortlessly caught and pushed the amnesiac youth back. "Weakling. You're unfit to be a defender. Watch your back. Maybe a hornet will sting you if you keep showing weakness." Without even bothering to exchange any more words with this supposed weakling, the young man left, though not before signaling in the air without turning around to face Zakura. "Touma Seisou." Zakura questioned, "…Huh? What do you—" Touma growled, responding, "My name's Touma Seisou, dumbass. My desire…Is to create a perfect world, without a speck of filth such as those Crimson Sovereigns, or even weaklings like you. …However, you seem like a nice kid. I guess, I should apologize for my behaviour. See you around." In an instant, Touma disappeared, leaving Zakura completely dumbfounded. "…Che! The nerve of that guy…" Now wasn't the time for contemplation as his stomach growled louder than before. Zakura grasped it with both of his hands, sighing slightly, "…Not only did that guy irk me, now I'm hungrier than before…" Quickly, Zakura Terui hurried back to the apartment in which Yuuki and he were staying.
- thumb|right|335 px"Waking Up" interpretado por Julien-K es el tema del final Neutral del videojuego de Shadow the Hedgehog (juego).
- It's the fifth of January and it's a beautiful day. Everything has been going perfectly. I've gotten a promotion, I've just been informed that my wife is finally pregnant and that the child is going to be a boy, and we've just moved into a new house, the house of our dreams. It's absolutely perfect. I actually considered wearing my old suit before my wife pointed out that it would be out of place for my job. "I wonder how your coworkers would react to see a businessman in the accounting division." She gave a quick chuckle. "They'd probably rip you apart." We both laughed as she chose a more appropriate attire for a supervisor. I drove off in a prize of mine, an old beat up Chevy I had found in an auction. Imagine my surprise once I found out after I fixed it that it was some rare make worth several times what I paid for. It was now a pristine machine that I drove only when I wanted to impress someone. The clouds were in such a position that you could feel the faint heat of the sun and a cool breeze blew in from the south making the ride to work twice as enjoyable. That morning was absolutely wonderful. Work was even better. I was kind of nervous because I had just been promoted and had just moved to accommodate my new job but the atmosphere and welcome made the move worth it. Everyone was friendly and nice and competent at their jobs. That meant I could freely befriend them without fear of the awkward situation of having to fire them. They even threw a party to welcome me. They'd spent most of their time playing around (and I would join them) but had the uncanny ability to never miss a deadline regardless if they only started five minutes ago. I barely had to do anything. I did notice a small post-it on my cubicle telling me to wake up but I chalked that up to another one of my officemate's jokes. I almost felt sorry that I had to leave as the day ended. It was Friday and I'd only be able to see them next Monday. My phone rang as my wife told me that my buddy, Mike, had arrived with a pizza and a question of whether or not we could go out today for a drink. Good old Mike, I owe everything to him. We met in highschool and became buddies almost instantly. He was the one who introduced me to Janet. He was the one who suggested buying that old Chevy just for kicks. He was the one who recommended me for the supervising job. He was even the one who got me to try alcohol but I don't think my wife sees that as a good thing. Good old Mike. She said that she'd sleep early today. She said to meet Mike at home and expected me to arrive before midnight. I arrived at my home and met up with Mike who greeted me as always with a smile and a joke. Mike was a stock trader and a good one too. He could probably earn twice what I earned in a year in the span of a month if he wanted to. He always had an eye for the fine and the means to get it. I always had the sneaking suspicion that he purposely suggested that I bid for that Chevy. As much as I liked Mike, I always envied his car. Mine was a rare Chevy, his was a freaking Ferrari. No ordinary Ferrari either, no. Mike had to order a custom made Ferrari. I didn't even know they made customizable Ferraris! And boy was it fast! It felt like that trip to the bar lasted only a minute. Next thing I knew, he and I were sitting on the barstool as the bartender smiled. He always smiled when Mike was around. He always paid for my drinks and insisted that he pay for it himself despite my insistence on paying for myself. He did it for other people quite often too. He was just that kind of guy, the kind that always knew how to seize the day and spread the wealth he got from seizing it; however, today he seemed a little out of it. I asked him if he was sick. He gave a halfhearted smile as he answered. "Kind of, yeah." I was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol in my system when I noticed he hadn't even touched his drink. "C'mon. You know you'd tell me, right?" He gave a smile, this time sincere, before staring at his drink. "Do you know that promise that we made to each other in college?" I recall the memory as I ask for another drink. That's another awesome thing about Mike, he was always an awesome drinking buddy. He could drive in his sleep and never seemed to be affected by the numerous drinks he'd take in. "T'always have each other's backs, n'matter what? Yeah, I r'm'm'b'r." He smiles again. He's glad that I remembered. "And how you lent me money even after no one else did. How I then hit it big with that ten thousand you needed for your marriage and I paid it back threefold." He sighed with what seemed like a mix of nostalgia and regret. "I'm scared. I'm not sure if I should tell you." The tone of the conversation had shifted. I could tell even while slightly inebriated. "Wha's'rong?" He stared hard at his drink. "What day is it?" "Fr'd'y." He nods his head."It's been Friday for two days now." I stare at him confused. Maybe I wasn't hearing what he said right. I really should stop drinking now. "Did you recall that moment when we stepped out of my Ferrari?" I try to answer before closing my mouth. I hadn't, actually. I shake my head. "I thought so." He put a hand to my shoulder. "Wake up, buddy." What's that supposed to mean? I guess I gave a look of utter confusion as he removes his hand and begins explaining. "We didn't actually make it to the bar. I think I could still remember bits and pieces of it. I was driving when this car came out of nowhere and slammed right into us." He paused to take a deep breath. The entire bar seemed to stop moving. Scratch that, it definitely did. "What?" He gave another smile, this time sympathetic but scared. "But you didn't. And I'm glad you did and that I got to spend some more time with you but you have to wake up." I laugh, thinking it was a joke. "'Kay. Nice'un, Mike. Now, stop't." He grabbed me by my shoulders. "You have to wake up. I'm serious." He sits back down. "You've been in a coma for the last three days. You're uninjured but your mind is broken for some reason. Your wife is scared and stressed. Your coworkers are too. You shouldn't stress your wife any further or you might lose the baby." I sit back, dumbfounded but he continues. "I'm scared. I only exist now in your mind and I don't know what's gonna happen to me. But we're friends, y'know and you still have a life to go back to. So, you really should wake up. This world is perfect, I know, but this memory is of the last day you were awake. Your world will still be the same whether or not you wake up except for a few things." He grabs his drink and takes a big chug. "Check behind my sofa. See you in, oh say, eighty years." He pauses for a moment. "Oh yeah, one more thing. Sorry." He leaps up and punches me in the face. ... The doctor stares wide eyed as my teary eyed wife's jaw unhinges. I'm in a hospital bed, none the worse for wear as the doctor walks up, confused, and assesses me. I later find out that I had been in a coma for at least three days now, just as Mike said. It was actually exactly as Mike said. He and I were in a car crash and I was knocked into a coma. Mike was killed instantly. By the time I had woken up, the doctors had apparently deemed me brain dead so it seemed to be a miracle that I was up and about. I was discharged that same day. As Mike said, I didn't have any form of injury on me. My officemates greeted me with surprise as I entered the office that day. They still played around and all but they seemed to understand that I had changed. Though aside from myself, nothing much changed really. Mike was right, my world was still relatively perfect. Well, except for losing my best friend. Though where ever he is now, at least I know he's been a friend to the end. I checked his place, behind the sofa like he said. I found a bunch of stocks, bonds and cash with a note saying 'For Ryan and Janet's Anniversary'. Thanks Mike. Thanks for everything.
- (chorous) Rip it up, tear it down (This is what it means to be free)
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