Any joy or comfort the four of them felt when they arrived at the pub had vanished. It was like they never even went there. Any chance of something good happening that night went down the drain.

Thirty minutes had passed since Natalya's arrest. The four of them were in Matheson's prison level in one of the interrogation rooms. Jonah, Kat, and Natalya were in the room itself while Aaron and Nika watched outside through the transparent side of the one-way mirror.

"I still can't believe it," Jonah said, his voice echoing through the speakers in the hall. Or at least conveniently where Aaron and Nika stood. "Street prostitution? That's what you're in here for?"

Natalya hung her head down shamefully.

"What could come out of that, huh? Extra quid? Ration Cards? Why'd you do this?"

She stayed silent.

Jonah slammed his hand down on the table. "Answer me!"

Natalya slowly raised her head up. "I've got nothing to say. It's not like I'll be able to fix it."

"Well even if you can't fix it, we can help you do something! Do you have any idea what could've happened to you?!"

"I'll be declared a whore, but sadly that wouldn't be the first time someone's called me that," Natalya groaned.

"How many people have you offered services to?" Kat asked.

"Four."

"Do you know their names?"

"Of course not. I'm a busy girl."

"Clearly too fucking busy for me," Jonah muttered quietly. Kat smacked him in the back of the head.

"As Jonah said earlier, too many bad things could've happened to you," Kat continued. "STD's are always a possibility, but there's also the slight chance one of your customers was infected."

"So?" Natalya asked apathetically.

Nika snapped. She rushed around the one-way mirror and burst through the door into the room, leaving Aaron alone outside.

"What do you mean so?!" she exclaimed. "It means you're going to be quarantined! Maybe even executed!"

"Nika, sweetie," Kat said. "You're supposed to stay—"

"I don't want to lose you, Natalya! You're the only family I have left in this world."

Natalya scoffed. "Why don't you make a new one with Aaron? He always get more attention from you than anyone else."

"Is that where I went wrong?" Jonah chimed back in. "I didn't give you enough attention?"

"Bollocks. You didn't pay me any attention. Both of you have always focused on Aaron. Aaron, this, Aaron that. There are more people in this world than just Aaron O'Connor!"

Aaron tilted his head down in shame. He knew she couldn't see him through the one-way mirror, but everything she said went through it like nothing thanks to the speakers. Was she always this rude? Was Aaron always seen as pampered?

"You were important to us as much as Aaron. As much as anyone!" Jonah continued. "We are orphans. All we have is each other."

"We all grew up together, Natalya," Nika added, much more calmly than her previous comments. "You're part of a bigger family than just you and me."

"I'm just gonna...step outside," Kat said awkwardly. She made her way to the door and stepped outside.

"Neither of us ever knew our parents, yet you were lucky enough to have your sister by your side. Through the years I've felt..." Jonah's voice trailed off as Kat closed the door behind her.

"Hey, Aaron," she said.

"Hey, Kat," Aaron replied, still watching the others. "What happened? Why'd you dip?"

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I feel excluded when you guys start talking about your past. I know I said I liked it earlier, but a part of it still hurts since I technically came to Matheson alone. If it weren't for you guys, I would've been eaten alive back in London."

"Sorry about that. Jonah usually talks about the past when he's upset or trying to guilt-trip someone, especially Natalya."

"She seems...nice?"

Aaron gave Kat an unconvinced look. She rolled her eyes and replied back, "Yeah, I didn't believe me either. She seems a bit insecure. Do you mind if I ask why?"

Aaron shrugged. "Pretty sure she made it obvious. She thinks we all left her in the dark since I've been hogging all the attention apparently. And I'm not even a D—" He stopped himself before he could add "Deadman yet."

"Not even a what?" Kat asked.

"N-n-not even a DZI anymore," he replied, trying—and failing—to prevent himself from stuttering.

"True that." Kat sighed. "To be honest, you might've actually attracted more attention now that they've let you go."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah. Even though he might have the emotional capacity of a statue, Commander Shaw's actually gone softer on us. He still shouts a lot, but he seems more in control of his temper now. Like earlier he actually visited Rupert in the infirmary, and he never comforts his squad mates. In fact, you should've seen him after Rupert told him he shot you with a sniper rifle. I didn't even think the wanker was capable of laughing!"

Aaron chuckled nervously, slightly relieved nobody was taking Rupert seriously. "What else makes you think my departure made him go soft?" he asked.

"Shaw's also become unhealthily indecisive regarding his opinions of you. One minute he says you've made the biggest mistake of your life and the next he claims you were impressive for a soldier your age. And he wasn't even drinking the last two times he said it."

Aaron chuckled, this time confidently. "What about weed? I heard some of the DZI sneak some in. You sure he wasn't high?"

"Nah, mate. I think he actually meant it. Even when you were part of it, he admitted you had dead aim when it came to firearms. Plus, you're not too shabby with bladed weapons, as much as you hate using them."

"Now you're just trying to cheer me up." A small smile formed on Aaron's face. "And it's working. Thanks."

Kat playfully punched his shoulder. "Anytime, O'Connor. Anytime."

As usual, the happy moment was brief. As soon as Aaron and Kat returned their view to the room beyond the one-way mirror, Jonah was jumping out of his seat and slamming his hands down on the table in a fit of rage, endlessly spewing profanity like an angry rapper. While Nika backed fearfully into the wall, Natalya stayed in her seat devoid of any fear or anger and waited patiently as Jonah continued to blow off steam.

"Shit," Kat said. "I'll be back."

She ran back into the room and placed herself between Jonah and Natalya, holding him back as he continued verbally assaulting Natalya. Aaron couldn't even comprehend what Jonah was saying. He had never seen him this angry before. It all felt like a nightmare, like this would disappear any second and he'd be back in his flat. Jonah's words trailed off in Aaron's mind as if he was losing his hearing. Yet he could hear Kat loud and clearly.

"Natalya Koslov," she said, still trying to restrain Jonah. "For admitting to four cases of illegal prostitution, you have been sentenced to eight months in prison and will be housed in Cell 12. Additionally, in case you did provide services to an infected citizen, you will be subjected to an infection test first thing in the morning."

Natalya finally displayed some emotion. "So now you're calling me a test subject?!"

"These were Shaw's orders, not mine." Jonah eventually stopped resisting and stood by the table, still furious. Kat pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Commander Shaw, this is Mathis. We are ready to escort the prisoner. Are you on you way?"

"Already here," Shaw replied. His voice was loud and clear. Almost as if...

Aaron turned around, only to be greeted by Zachary Shaw himself. He had his typical stern appearance, like if he never had a good day in his life. "What the hell are you doing here, O'Connor?" Shaw growled.

"Nice to see you again, too," Aaron replied sarcastically.

"Who let you in here?"

"Jonah and Kat. Turns out I was...I wouldn't exactly say friends with the prisoner. More like frenemies. But nonetheless, I was invited here."

"Invited?" Shaw repeated. "This is a prison, not a tea party. And do you mind explaining how you survived getting shot in the chest with a sniper rifle? I highly doubt it happened considering the fact Cromwell is so idiotic, he'd miss shooting his own head, but I'd still like to know."

"He missed. Just startled me."

"He also mentioned you falling out of an open window into the Dead Zone. Considering the fact you're standing here in front of me with all of your limbs intact, you mind elaborating on that?

"I climbed up the pipes outside the tower back through the same window."

"O'Connor."

"Sir, I'm not taking the piss. I'm surprisingly agile like tha—"

"O'Connor!"

Aaron couldn't tell what exploded through the one-way mirror, but all he knew was that Jonah was still venting and he probably didn't care where he was aiming. Shards of glass were sent flying through the air, one of which grazed Aaron's right hand. A long incision formed across his palm, and he stumbled a few feet back as the rest of the glass rained down on the floor in front of him."

"You bumbling idiot," Shaw muttered, approaching the space where the mirror used to be. "Mathis, is the prisoner ready?"

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Of course she's fucking ready," Jonah muttered angrily. "She was ready to come here once her first customer showed up."

"Quit your blabbering, Franklin," Shaw said. "The only person you're riling up is yourself. And I expect payment for this mirror."

Shaw walked into the room and wrapped one arm around Natalya's while Kat took the other. Jonah and Nika waited beside the table, both of them in distress.

Aaron stood outside and watched as the cut on his hand sealed itself back up. As usual, he didn't feel a single thing. At least not physically. That slash across his hand was like a concussion to the head, and everything in his sight turned blood red. Everyone he saw was stripped of their flesh, instead replaced by human-shaped collections of muscles and bones. The one that looked like Shaw stared straight at him, his eyeballs bulging and bloodshot. His lack of eyelids made it even more horrifying.

"O'Connor, what the hell are you staring at?" he asked. Every muscle in his face twitched, and his exposed jawbone stiffly lurched up and down with each word like a ventriloquy dummy.

"What happened to your skin?" Aaron whispered.

Shaw looked down at his hands. Even though he looked like a model of the human muscular system in Aaron's eyes, he couldn't tell what was going on with Aaron. So he turned back to him and replied with confusion, "Last I checked I'm a black man. Please quit staring."

FLESH! a sinister voice screamed in Aaron's head. EAT IT! EAT IT!

Suddenly, he launched himself at the wall, his legs developing a mind of their own. His head crashed into the wall with a loud thunk, and he collapsed to the floor. The infection running through his veins would've blessed him with the inability to feel pain, but not this time. There was a bruise forming in the middle of his forehead. And he could feel the whole thing painfully rippling through his head.

"Aaron!" Nika asked through the opened door of the interrogation room. "Are you all right?"

Aaron slowly lifted himself from the floor. He caught a quick glance of Nika, whose image rapidly shifted between a normal human being and a musculature. The blood red tint of the room and the terrifying creatures that represented his friends phased back and forth with reality so frequently, it was almost as if someone was flicking a switch on and off in his head.

He backed away from the wall until he was in front of one of the cells. The prisoner housed in said cell reached her arm through the bars and grabbed Aaron by the shoulder. He quickly grabbed her hand and twisted it around, breaking her wrist. She screamed and jumped back into her cell, her painful shriek transitioning into masochistic laughter.

Only one prisoner in Matheson saw pain as nothing more than a sick joke. And that was Lavinia Dyer. "That was powerful," she said, firmly grasping her crooked, purple wrist. "Almost inhumanly powerful."

"Piss off," Aaron growled weakly. The pain in his head kept coming in waves. He felt like he was having a stroke.

"What's happening now?" Lavinia asked.

"I don't fu—" Quick but excruciating pain filled Aaron's head. He collapsed to the floor, gasping with exhaustion. "What's happening to me?"

"That's unusual. I thought Deadmen couldn't feel pain."

"H-how did you—" Another flash of pain silenced Aaron. He was now flat down on the ground, his face pressed against the cold floor. He winced in pain with every wave.

"I guess the infection hasn't reached your brain yet."

"W-W-What?" Aaron wheezed.

"Everything up here," Lavinia explained, tapping the side of her head, "still hurts. Every other part of you, however, has already welcomed the infection."

"I...c-can't..." Aaron felt the world slowly fade away from him. The last thing he saw that night was the crazed grin on Lavinia Dyer's face. Yet everything she was telling him felt somewhat reliable.

"It's only a matter of time before it gets to your ole' gray matter. Once the mind is gone, so is the person this body used to belong to."