The red haze fell away slowly. And with it came a feeling of keen disappointment. 

Rowan understood on some primal level that he was disappointed the fight was over already. There was no denying the thrill that went through him every time he stepped foot into this arena. 

There was something to be said about mowing down your enemies and standing on top. It hit at a primitive level. Humans going to human, he thought.

Rowan blinked. The training room came into sharp focus.

His limbs were taught from the continuous motion. His circuits were on constant standby for any other proximity alerts. The only sound came from the wheezing of ruined skins, who weren't quite as dead as they should be. The groaning was real, even if they 'd be traded out to new bodies soon. It didn't make the current pain they were feeling any less. 

There was an old earth description of berzerk from some ancient Norse word berserkr or ber serkr "bear shirt" - whatever the case, he could only vaguely recall. Humans still 'humaned', meaning they still berserked every now again. He barely remembered the fight. Only the feeling of ecstasy as he pushed through his adversaries. A high-octane shot of adrenaline that pushed him to the top, enhanced by his current skinsuit. There was no doubt he was in his element.

Dik was off to the side, clapping. His gaze was focused on the bodies in front of Rowan though. He didn't say a word. His training would not allow him to express the rage that Rowan knew he was feeling. He'd been there - felt that kind of rage himself. 

Dik perked up, a sure sign he was communicating with someone at the top. Rowan waited for them to come through on his channel. It was a vain hope. They knew he'd be able to track him. The point of this exercise was to whittle him down to a place where he'd have no options, no window of escape, and no way to fight back. 

He sighed. 

"You've earned your admission," Dik said. "If you'll follow me."

"This is bull shit," Rowan muttered. But he adjusted his shirt, put his clothes back into place as best he could. There was nothing he could do about the blood spots that coated his clothes and the floor.

Dik walked around them but Rowan strode through the bodies. 

The other end of the arena were two black double doors. "That's new," he said out loud. "They were gray before."

"Some things change," Dik said without looking back.

"No, they don't," Rowan muttered as he passed through. This time there was no escort. They didn't need one. They were calling the shots now. And Rowan would have to behave if he wanted to see Miranda alive again. 

Dik stopped and held up a set of cuffs before turning around. "They requested that you wear these. 

"Are you serious?" Rowan look from Dik's face to the cuffs. "What are those going to stop? Me? Seriously?"

"It's not a request," Dik said again attempting to stay as dead pan as Rowan. His eye twitched and Rowan knew he was feeling the loss of the recruits strung out in the room behind him.

"They know who I am," Rowan muttered. "These are useless."

"And yet they ask--"

"I will become as monstrous as I must," Rowan said as he snapped on the cuffs around his wrists. This time Dik swallowed visibly. "I'll get what I came for, nothing you or any of those upcaste lackeys can do."

Dik eyed the cuffs and then his former partner. Rowan watched his eye twitch. Dik was at time as a hard man to read. He hoped he'd never have to actually fight Dik. Despite all of their banter, he'd never hated Dik. 

They went through another set of doors. 

"As promised," Dik bowed low to the woman in the chair in front of him. 

Rowan stood rock still. There hands bound to the chair was Miranda, unhurt. Her long black hair tumbled around her shoulders. She wore a pale blue t-shirt over loose bands. Her feet were bare. The chair was a metal throne, meant for torment. He knew it well. His fist tightened at the the thought of her in it. Bruises covered her left shoulder, probably from her kidnapping. He'd repeatedly told her to fight always as long as possible, if something happened to him. He was looking at the result. 

She turned her face towards his, defiance there until their gazes met. It was the fear that gutted him the most. She had the deer in the headlights look of someone whose world had just been shattered. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again as her eyes traveled up his clothes.

"Rowan, are you ok?" Her voice caught, her fear evident. 

"I'm ok, you?" Rowan held out his cuffed hands in front of him. "They are doing their best to keep me from getting you out of here."

She nodded and he noticed that her wrists were cuffed to the chair as well. 

"What happens now?" he turned back to Dik. 

"A job offer and she lives, or better yet, gets to continue to keep on living," Dik said.

"From you?"

"From Dana Margrave," Dik responded. "She's the one who purchased her.

Purchased. Rowan felt his blood go cold. "She's a free citizen. How can she be purchased?"

"Anyone can be purchased for the right price, Rowan you know that." Dik shrugged. 

Rowan did know. For the right amount of credits anyone could be turned over, a blind eye turned as your life was turned upside down. Who is watching The Watchers? The childhood song suddenly made a lot more sense now. Supposedly ordinary free citizens could be bought and sold to the highest bidder for the crime of looking too good or catching the wrong eye. There was only one form of justice here: Those who had the most credits. 

"She isn't worth anything to The Watchers," Rowan said again. And she wasn't. Miranda's gift had been simple, a simple life, one where he wasn't having to watch someone die every few days. It had taken two hundred years but he'd figured that part out. But building a simple life with someone had its own charm. He'd probably had too much negative karma to ever really be allowed to settle for that. And he'd been right. 

"She was worth something to you and therefore valuable. The Watchers definitely needed to figure out how someone with her 'worth' as you put it was able to convert one of our best agents. We needed to know who she was, who she was working for."

Rowan's gaze flicked back to Miranda, who straightened in her chair, regal and full of poise. Not his Miranda. 

The voice was Miranda's but it wasn't her speaking. 

"Dana Margrave," he said, venom dripping from his voice.

"No, to you," she purred a smile distorting the features he loved so much. "I'm Miranda. Rowan are you ok?" She mocked him. 

Dana stood, her hands slipping from the restraints easily.

Gone was everything Rowan loved about Miranda. She had her face, her body, she'd studied her movements but Miranda wasn't there.

"Where is she?" He said. Beside him Dik tensed and he barely noticed the other Watchers coming into the room.

"Don't you get it?" Miranda said stretching. She looked up at the ceiling before flicking her gaze back to him. "I'm Miranda. I've been Miranda the whole time."

Miranda's carefree manner, vanished like smoke and mirrors. His brained wrapped the knowledge around his head. His heart definitely wasn't listening. He was ten seconds from cutting it out with a smile and dumping it himself.

There was a pause in the room. His voice was completely dead panned. The atmosphere was so thick you cut could it with a knife. Which Rowan intended to do. But he wanted answers.

"I imagine this is quite a shock for you," she said. "To know that the great Rowan Stevescant was played."

Rowan shook his head. "I would have figured it out eventually. You did make it pretty real."

"I think I did my job well if you even you were convinced into believing in me."

"Help me, Rowan," She mimicked again. 

Rowan stiffened, his face stone. They'd stolen his face, his identity, and now his woman.

He turned to Dik. "I told you, I didn't want her harmed in any way, now she's just gone."

"It's a game Rowan," Dik said. "You know that."

It's their way of showing us we have nothing but them, Rowan thought. He knew what this woman was - sometimes soldiers went out and they had agents called sirens to bring them back in and bind them to the organization with whatever brand of loyalty that individual required. 

He inhaled. "Here's my offer," he said. "Miranda leaves here with me and none of the rest of you have to die."

"Did you not hear me?" Dana glared down at him, her irritation clear.

"You played her," said Rowan. "You're not her. No one is that good."

"You're in denial, Rowan." 

"Maybe you are, Dana." Rowan moved in. Dana held up a hand to keep anyone from coming between them. "You didn't bring me in, you had Miranda kidnapped. How does that work for your policy? And you took a long time, we were together, what three years? At some point... I think you liked it." He lowered his voice. "You jumped the game, you're trapped too. You took your time setting this up. All that time, all that fuckery? Really? You are telling me it was part of your job?"

He blew a kiss at her watching her face redden.

The rest of the watchers moved in. "I'll take Miranda's stack," Rowan said above the noise.

"Dik," Dana snapped. "Give him the assignment."

"Are we dealing?" 

Rowan felt the hand on his shoulder. A quick brush snapped two of the man's fingers. He didn't bother to see who it was. His gaze was fixed firmly on Dana Margrave inside of Miranda's body. At least that's what he believed. 

The palace was a big place. He'd need to find out where Miranda's stack was hidden. He'd get her a new skin to replace this one. Hell he could probably barter for a copy of her original if he played things right. The idea of someone else inside Miranda's head made his skin crawl. 

She turned to look at him. The brown eyes he stared into so many times were those of a stranger. The skin he'd caressed belonged to someone else. He'd known of Dana Margrave but had never had a reason to meet her until now. 

He knew he was more angry at himself for not noticing when the two had been changed. He'd gotten sloppy in his fake retirement.

"We'll deal," she said softly as she turned away. "One mission, one stack." 

"The skin?" Rowan crossed his arms. 

"Depends on how well the mission is completed. Dik will give you instructions. It will be like old times."

She walked out and Rowan turned to rest of the room. Dik was still next to the door but he was staring at Rowan, respect etched across his features. 

"Come on Rowan," he said. "You're target is the leader of the free world - and it has to be public. Televised. They paid top dollar for this."

Rowan sighed. "That is oddly specific."

Dik waved away the other men and motioned for Rowan to follow. "She studied you, you know."

"Probably, it's what a good agent does, studying their targets."

"No," Dik lowered his voice. "Think of it more like a protégé, she studied you long before this case came up. They teach your methodology here as a class now. She's the only one who ever aced the course for long term submersion. She studied YOU. This mission was just the cherry on top of a long career."

Rowan sighed. "So this IS personal."

"You just called her out," Dik said. "The run was almost perfect but you called her out. Called out the fact that Miranda was still here and she was faking. She's probably pissed and second guessing at what gave her away."

"You know, I had no idea if Miranda was alive until just now," Rowan said. "I was guessing. Thanks Dick."

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