"So this is it, then." says Serena, dully looking over our map. It's traced with pencil lines that weave and layer over each other into a cacophony of tangled futures, with a marker line though what we've deemed to be our best option.

It's just in time, too, because that four-AM voyage two weeks ago was just a taste of what was to come. We've done scouting missions in pairs and trios through empty hallways, abandoned rooms, past robot-free warehouses and the constant, droning whine of "YOU ARE ON THE PROPERTY OF THE SANGUINE DELEGATION. PLEASE CEASE CURRENT ACTIVITY OR PREPARE TO BE REHABILITATED OR FORCEFULLY REMOVED." that has become kind of an in-joke, given that we have not been rehabilitated nor forcefully removed. In fact, all force seems to have all but disappeared, making it more evident than ever that they're trying to lure us into a false sense of security.

It's not working. We're stressed as college seniors the night before finals, and now, as the world turns away from the sun and towards dusk, we wait in the lair, tension gnawing at my innards like a worm.

"There's always the off chance we get in there and nothing does anything." I suggest. "We hack at the door, fail to open anything, and then we leave."

Serena rolls her eyes and holds up a mask, complete with Diosite implant. "Look. If we should be worried about anything, it's that I get in there with this on and it makes me go crazy." She gives us a weak smile.

"It would have to be localized, then, because I've had it on a few times and I have yet to go insane." I say with a snap of my fingers.

"Are you sure you're not crazy? We could be your rubber room delusion." Evan suggests, grabbing my arm. "Snap out of it, Rosenbloom."

"Like I could ever come up with something this good. I have the imagination of a wet piece of tissue paper," I tell him, glancing at a smiling Megan, "You alone would exceed my internal processing power. Plus, if it was my fantasy, I don't think you two would have been able to drag me by the legs into this- into us."

"Golden boy, bookish nerd, bad boy. They fought- but not with each other." Megan slides her hand sapart cinematically. "Three's a Party, Fourty-Seven is a Dad Cult. Coming to a store near you, twenty-never."

"We did not 'drag you by the legs' into anything. You started pining after Megan the second you entered school and eyed my ass for half the year. Not that I blame you. My body is one of my two redeeming qualities. My other would be my burning-hot sense of sarcasm." Evan places a hand to his head. "Not that I don't also appreciate the ability to shoot fire out of my hands."

"Evan!" cries Megan.

Serena taps me on the shoulder. "Been meaning to ask. So you three are..." she weaves her fingers together.

I nod, and a smile lights up my face. It's like the entire sky has decided to shine down upon me. Never has such an honest expression crossed my face, in all my life. Anthem is getting twitchy in the corner, though, and Harper is pacing in place.

"This is besides the point, guys. This is a big mission here! Shouldn't we be a little more..." Harper makes a turning gesture with her hands before giving up. "Concerned?"

"Humor is my coping mechanism." Evan says. "But hey. We don't have all night."

I raise my sword. Serena takes the mask in her hands, looking down at it with solemn dread, and flicks her finger across the glossy sheen of its cover. and purses her lips. Harper draws the cloak over her head, and Megan and Evan stand at my sides, holding hands across my shoulders. I feel a tremor of energy run through the five of us, and we step forwards in unison.

Evan and Megan let go as we pass into the light, though 'haze' might be more appropriate. Dusk has settled on the land, and we're losing light fast. The home of the Sanguine Delegation looks more deserted than ever, with the frayed, unrepaired barbed wire jutting out around the perimeter. The footsteps of where the Walkers used to roam are gone, stirred by wind, and no cars park out front, as they were apt to do way towards the beginning. Moss grows up the sides, and the only sign of any new effort at all is a new door, as is always set up for us when we approach. The metal lies ominous overhead, unpainted, like a giant, closed mouth.

Evan punches a dent in it, and I trace an arc with my sword to both allow us in and render his effort irrelevant. "After you," I say with a smile, and he rolls his eyes in an almost flirtatious manner. He falls in next to me as we wander the corridors, vast and meaningless. I pass beneath the old overhead areas, turn a wide arc around the dead-end we never figured out, and all the while we are met with complete silence. No one in the group dares breathe, and the usual call of alarms is hushed as well. In fact, it seems like the place is silent specifically because of our entrance- even for an empty set of polished rooms, there's an astounding lack of noise.

"REHABILITATE OR GET OUT," booms Evan. "WE WILL FIRE OUR SHRILL NOISE AT YOU UNTIL YOUR EARDRUMS EXPLODE AND YOU ARE FORCED TO EVACUATE THE PREMISES."

Serena's eye twitches. "Really. Now."

"KILLJOYS WILL BE EXTRA REMOVED. OR REHABILITATED." Evan's voice lowers as we enter the room with the door. "Get the mask on, Gen."

Serena slips the mask on, and at once, she covers her ears, which are hidden beneath the black straps. She grunts, as if hit by a large object straight to the chest, and then says, "I can hear them. It's a frequency- they can hear us too! Guys, it can't read your mind, but it can-"

She lunges sideways, a pole manifesting in her hand, and Evan grabs it with one hand. "It's weakened, somehow. I don't-"

"Enter the passcode." I say.

"It doesn't want me to." Serena whines, her voice distorted from beneath the mask.

"Gen." Megan insists.
"Alright!" she yells. "Alright! Alright! Alright!" She dials something into the door, making eye contact with it, but her arms are trembling all the while. She makes a series of hand motions I try to parse, but they're moving way too fast.

The doors begin to slide open, the two black metal panels sliding away from each other, and before they can fully open Serena throws the mask on the ground. The doors begin to slide shut at frightening velocity and we all dive through, with Harper trying to hold the doors open at the rear. They slam shut on the mask, cleaving her shadows as well, and we're left in complete darkness.

Serena is sobbing.

"Are you..." Megan asks, then rephrases the question, "Can you continue?"
"We can't leave." Serena responds.

My sword illuminates the way, a beam of white light, and Evan snaps his fingers to get embers going. We trek through the shadows together, the dread fully sinking in, and I feel Megan's hand around mine. She squeezes, at this point almost a better-known signal than any words, and I squeeze back. I think I could kiss her, here in the dark, just to prove something to myself. I could reach forwards and draw Evan in, too, but duty keeps me rigid. I face forwards, into the shadow, and step into the glare of a swinging overhead light. Washed-out signs overhead indicate arrows pointing forwards, and the same red graffiti streaks the walls. The lights continue, flickering and askew, and we emerge up a set of stairs into the largest room I have ever been in. It is almost sphere-shaped, but it inverts at the top and flows upwards, extending out onto a ceiling that has been placed there fairly recently, by all indication. I can't even see the minute detail above, which is painted in red, but all the designs seem to encircle one small box, whose cord leads down to the ground, where it splits in three. Two of the cords lead to large, gear-covered machines, whose intricate parts seem to bend in a thousand different ways. The corpses of old machines lie around it, like dead animals lain to rest, and the machine grinds them into new metal- this must be where the dead-ends lead, to the bottom of the machines.

Worse, though, is the center, which falls along the floor to a single machine, a human-sized tube. A whistling noise echoes throughout it. I follow the line of the machine back up-

Evan's fingers fluctuate into fits. He points upwards, "That's the Diosite."

"We have other things to focus on." I say. Five mask wearing officers, all in those white robes, and all brandishing large, metal weapons, step forwards.

"It took you long enough," purrs the middle one, who I recognize as the woman from before.

Evan cries out and leaps towards them, despite Megan's distant pleas. All five of them burst into action and soon the room is a frenzied blur of action. My sword is up against another weapon, of equal quality, which only seems to heat faintly when hit by my own blade. Megan holds her own against one of the officers, as does Harper, but Serena has her back against the wall. She draws closer to the machinery on the left by the second, and out of the periphery of my vision, I can't help but notice her. Sudden leaderly instinct kicking in, I swing the blade around and kick the officer aside and take off. My officer chases me down, but I'm faster (let's go, youth) and I'm just able to parry an attack for Serena, who assembles a gun.

"You can't use that." I say.

Serena yells, "We are going to die, Chief!"

"Gen, no-"

The air thunders as she shoots at one of their legs. The man falls to the ground, unbalanced by a subsequent swift kick by Serena, and I disarm him with my sword. Serena forms her signature pole to knock the other officer upside the head. No blood oozes from the fallen man's leg, despite Serena's perfect aim- the shock of the blank was the second we needed to render him unconscious. If we weren't locked in a desperate fight to the death, I would give her a fist bump for that.

Harper skates over on a wave of shadow, stealing the mask. Her own officer can't seem to catch up, and she exploits this to its fullest potential, on the defensive with one shadowbeast while another takes the offense. The man withdraws a flashlight from his pocket, and Harper falls to the ground. Serena covers, but I'm still stuck fighting the other officer, who has recovered from the face-staff. The man is faster than me, although I can't believe it's a man at all- every action is not that of another human but rather a calculating program, one that knows my moves before I've made them. I mutter. On the edge of my vision, I can see Evan and Megan, fighting for their lives. My heart hurts, the adrenaline is going to kill me, and in the split second my sword clinks to the side.

"What the hell-" I say, dodging under a blow as the blade returns to my hand.

"We know everything about you, 'Chief'. We know your every move, we know your weaknesses, and we-" The sword trembles and I lunge forwards, ending a bare half-inch from his neck. "Best of all, we know that you're young, and you can't kill a man." the man says, no longer bothering to disguise the inhuman edge to his voice.

"I have an opening!" Harper says, pointing to the exitway with the mask in her hand. "Let's get out of here-"

Megan sends a torrent my way, her own official's head encased in water, but the man's hand breaks free as I'm released by the current. His blade almost hits Megan before he's tackled to the floor, in a series of near misses, by Evan. The man picks up Evan, who is now attempting to throttle him with his bare hands, and puts a knife to his throat. They stand heartbeats from the stage in the center of the room. "Drop your weapons." says the man.

My sword clatters to the floor. Everyone in the room is still as death.

"No!" cries Evan, hands thrashing, but the man puts one glove around Evan's hand. The embers sizzle out to a long stream of smoke. "Damnit, guys, give me a-" Something animal overtakes him, sending his head thrashing. He can't wiggle out of the grip, and he's heaving for breath now. "Run. Fuck it, you have to get out of here-"

"We're not going to leave you." Megan yells.

In one swift motion, faster than the strike of a snake, the door of the Echo Chamber flies open, and Evan is pushed into the machine. The whole group runs forwards at once, in one singular motion, but I am pressed beneath the boot of another Delegation member. Harper can't even manifest her powers, as the room is being flooded with harsh light from all angles, and Ser is defenseless, only to be slammed to the ground. Megan looks around, mortified, and a deluge of water hits the machine, which sputters but glows beneath the Diosite's might. She throws herself at the door, surrounded by water, only for the main official, the woman, to grip her around the neck. She sputters for air, crying for help, for God, and my ears are ringing.

The machine opens, and the woman throws Megan to the floor. She falls in front of it, stands up, and backs up, eyes wide with fear as Evan exits. He's hunched a little, and his whole body convulses. It's a terrible movement, though every ragged breath he takes is worse.

"Evan?" Megan whispers.

"Get out of the way!" I yell to Megan. Both Adams clash in my head, Chief and me, intermingled into lust and desperation, into animal need for preservation and a singular want for them, the best thing ever to happen to me. "Get out of the way!"

"You need to fight it." Megan whispers. She's sobbing as he stares at her blankly, stepping forwards, a snarl painted across blank features, empty eyes. "I know you're in there- Evan- God, please, you have to fight-"

He stops and blinks. Slowly, he puts a hand to his head, and I grab my sword, running towards them both, though I don't know for what yet. He closes his eyes again, this time wrinkling his entire face. "They're..." he whispers.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay." Megan says, arms stretched wide. "Evan, I- I love-"

I'm three steps away from them when his arm plunges in, blazing, and comes out the other side covered in gore. Her eyes roll up in her head, the last word left unsaid, and Anthem grabs hold of me at the same time panic does. Evan's arm retracts back, mechanically, and I think I scream but I no longer control my own body. Megan's midsection is unrecognizable, her appalled face juxtaposed upon a broken mannequin body, and her blue dress turned shades of indigo from the outpour of blood. I grab her in my arms and she is lighter than a feather, ethereal, and Evan stands above, lips twitching into something half resembling a smile but marred by emptiness- by-

One word leaves his lips, his arm still soaked, and it is the last thing I ever hear the best version of all three of us say. "Run."

(A/N: The next update will be Friday, October 6th.)