One of them showed me to a room and left the normal way, by walking down the hall. It was comforting that my seniors still appeared human, not tainted by phantoms like my Overseer. It gave me hope that my humanity could be preserved, then again, I really did know nothing about The Syndicate other than the rumors and the basics.

I knew nothing of my fate.

My new living space was minimal, both in area and decor, with bare steel walls and a bolt outside the door. It was a given that I was to stay put until someone said otherwise, entertaining myself by staring at the glowing orb that floated over the metal slab that was intended as a bed.

Thoughts of escape never once crossed my mind after I had been locked in - that would have been suicide and survival at all costs was my only goal.

After a moment of careful thinking, I opted to sleep on the floor when my body finally succumbed to the drugs I suspected I had eaten for breakfast.

There was a brief moment of rudimentary calculation involved that needed no definite formula or even a clear answer. I just instinctively knew that the ground provided a more comfortable alternative to the slab.

Tired of staring into the shadows growing in the corners of my domain, I decided to use what little was left of my free time to explore now that a hint of light in a particular corner had caught my eye. A line of light spilling from beneath a door, a second room.

I cut across my bedroom in one long leap and pushed against the handle, walked into the the bright light that spilled in through the doorway. I couldn't choose whether to be surprised or appalled by the sight I met. Surprised at the fact that I had a bath all to myself, or appalled by what I saw in the bath water that reflected me.

Without my approval, my face settled on surprise as I watched my expression of horror change into one of suppressed delight. In the end I yielded to the want and inched forward till my knees grazed the edge of the tub.

It had been ages since I had washed myself properly.

On my last day at the dungeon, I had been all but thrown into a trough and pulled out by my feet before being forced into the snug uniform I wore now by unseen hands.

With the help of my mirror image, I now identified said uniform as a grey long sleeved top and similarly colored tights that stopped where my ankle bandages began - a stark contrast to my seniors' white equivalents. I supposed it meant something that wasn't solely limited to seniority.

The Syndicate wasn't that petty, or so I'd imagined.

Shrugging off the thought, I moved on to something more interesting. I touched the bandage over my eye and studied my reflection more closely in search of the answer my Overseer had asked of me.

It should have been obvious.

My hair was short, a light brown that scattered just beneath my ears in no particular style or fashion. My ears themselves were not pierced and altogether my features were not too delicate.

I was young. I looked foolhardy with a particular glint of danger in my eye.

If I was a boy, it wouldn't seem to be a lie.

But again, it wouldn't seem like the truth either.

My gaze contained a sort of glassy-eyed purity that made my expressions seem overly genuine. My eyes, nose and lips were aligned with a sort of morbidezza that would invoked a feeling of tenderness from a softhearted passerby.

I had no strong features at all and appeared generally weak in health. Not one thing defined my gender, and for the life of me I couldn't even remember who I was.

I was stuck in the middle, and suddenly I understood why Dominus had walked away.

It must have been out of exasperation, because even I was confusing myself - and he could read my mind.

Whichever answer I would have given, it would have been wrong. This I was now certain of.

So in the end my silence had been the best reply.