His quarters was a hypothetical depiction of avant-garde machinery. Minimal decor, clean lines, metallic surfaces and chrome wall panels. He took two steps down from the elevated threshold and was met with a first class view of the entire city through the panorama window. Behind him to his right, a double bed had been arranged on top of a copper seal divan with a matching headboard and light-weighted microfiber bedding, a taupe colour. On his left was a floating desk with a Holopad wired into its surface.

Will recognised the Hologram beacon sitting next to the Holopad and started towards it, curious of how it worked. It was unlike anything he had seen back home. He picked it up from the desk, durable and light in weight, glossy and smooth to the touch. In the palm of his hand, he found the switch on the side and pressed it. A Holomap lit up, projecting a full map of the Imperial's Base. The amount of data this Hologram had stored was incomprehensible. Overwhelmed, he switched it off and put it back down.

The city lights brought an air of serenity that lured Will over to the large, panorama window at the end of his bed. He looked out, the lights mesmerizing, keeping him grounded. The rain had stopped, but the streets remained uninhabited. Something about the silent city felt off. Will couldn't put his finger on it.

The peace was pleasant unlike the unnerving silence down in the Interrogative Chamber, and short-lived when an electrical buzz alerted Will of an incoming broadcast from the Hologram beacon. Will turned towards it. An image appeared, projecting from the same output sequence as Will's face had. He recognised the stern face of Bill Grayson, his eyes staring past Will as if addressing a crowd.

"Citizens of Infinite City," he began. "You were promised peace, health and safety. I am here to uphold that promise. What happened was unfortunate. I won't keep you from the truth. Chancellor Victor Dark has fallen. But the Empire has not! You can be rest assured that the threat has been contained. And while I understand that some of you may still be unsettled by this, I encourage you to return to your daily normalities. A nightly festivity will be held in Victor Dark's honour with insurance of the city's future. Remember. You are in good hands."

The broadcast shut off. There were too many factors to insinuate the truth behind Bill's words. Too many occurrences to consider him trustworthy or not. Will needed more clarity before he could come to any conclusions concerning Bill's true intentions.

To distract himself from these mind-boggling thoughts, he decided a moment in the washroom and a change of clothes would do him some good. Truth to his decision resulted in a clear mind.

From the multiple choice of outfits that hung in his wardrobe, he had picked out a raglan navy blue t-shirt with pleated patchwork sleeves, matching black cargo jeans and a black sleek collared jacket. It may not have been his first choice in terms of style, but it was enough to feel like home.

Just as he was doing up the laces to his high barrel shoes, a hollow sound echoed from the floor panels. Will glanced to his right where the sound had reverberated from and saw the mechanical aspects of a melee grip. A low hum vibrated through the alloy, drawing Will's eyes to the energy core embedded in its iron shaft. Curious, he bent down to pick it up, figuring it must have fallen out when he had been rummaging through the wardrobe. The grip was a perfect mould of his hand. He studied the curvature of the strange gadget, adjusting his fingers until they came into contact with an interlocked switch. He pressed it. On contact, an iron rod with a pointed shaft protruded from its emitter, its energy core (now alive) sending faint sparks crawling along each end of the weapon's deadly shaft. Will jumped back, both startled and fascinated. He regarded it from a distance of his outstretched arm. Did Bill know about this?

Will pressed the switch again and the rod retracted as suddenly as it had appeared. With consideration to its use, he decided to keep it hidden away safely in the depths of his boot pocket where no eyes would detect it.

Will discerned movement outside and looked up to see shadows pass under his door. He would have dismissed them if they hadn't stopped just outside. Voices followed, indiscernible at first. Will approached the door and put his head to the wall adjoining it so as not to activate the sensors. He was still close enough to hear each word.

"I'm telling you it's not him," Ezra said.

"It doesn't make sense," Bill remarked in disagreement. "At the very least, this could just be some whole elaborate scheme-"

"And why would Will do that?" Ezra asked.

While he couldn't see them, it wasn't difficult to visualize Bill's tight-lipped expression. In the few hours that Will had known him, he had come to perceive Bill as a man of little patience.

"You forget that Will never did do as he was told," Bill said."Not to mention that he's never been in agreement with Project Infinity-"

"Then let's use that to our advantage," Ezra suggested. "Tomorrow." The brief silence proved unsettling.

"Are you sure?" Bill asked.

"If we don't let him in, he might never cooperate with us," Ezra said. "And do you really want to risk that?"

"I understand," Bill said. "Can we trust him though?"

"We will need to show him that he can trust us," Ezra said. "Honestly, I'm surprised you couldn't tell-"

"I figured there was something off about him," Bill admitted in defence. "Alright, if it will ensure the peace. Now, for what we know."

"We know he's not from here-"

"We never deducted that-"

"But it's obvious," Ezra countered. "You saw for yourself. He has no idea where he is, much less who we are-"

"Very well. So he's not from here. One other thing he said," Bill noted. "He's looking for his brother. If my recollections serve correctly, he can never know the truth-"

"About Victor?" Ezra asked.

"Especially about Victor. Tomorrow," he added with a tone of finality.

Will pressed his ear further against the wall, but heard nothing except the shuffling of footsteps retreat from his door. Noting their absence, he wandered back down the steps of the elevated threshold and planted himself on the edge of his bed in perplexed thought. Will had so many questions. What did they not want him to know? Why did they need his help? What was Project Infinity?

"Tomorrow," he uttered aloud, speaking to himself.

He just had to wait for tomorrow. Will collapsed backwards onto the bed and closed his eyes. Maybe a good night's rest would do him some good. Refresh his mind. The next few minutes passed by in intensive, provocative contemplation that it took great strength to reel his mind back to his present circumstance. He thought of the device that he had come across in Victor's workshop and it took him back to the time when he had first seen his brother working on it.

In Victor's workshop, young Will watched his brother work the hours away, already long into the night. His current project an ensemble of various nuts, cogs and gears.

"What's that?" he had asked.

"Nothing to be concerned about," Victor had said.

"It should be concerning if Law Enforcement is involved. What if it doesn't work like all of your other projects?"

Victor's hands continued to work away at the strange device that Will had yet to see, his back to him. "It will work. I'm sure of it," he said.

His attention was hyper-focused. He had no time to spare for trivial consequences. Will worried for him as everyone did. Irritation showed in his brother's hunched shoulders. Will was all for showing his support but... "That's what you said last time-"

"If you're not going to say anything helpful, then just go back home, Will. Mother and Father will be worried-"

"They know I'm with you, Victor," Will persisted, intent on getting a first look at his latest invention.

Victor's hands stopped mid-motion. Resting them down on the workbench, he released a sigh. "You're just a kid, Will. And this is no place for a kid. I wouldn't expect a kid like you to understand. You will see. This will work."

Opening his eyes, he suddenly recalled picking up and stashing that same device in one of his many pockets. He stood up, heading for the direction of his old clothes which he had placed over the backrest of the chair. He dug around in the pockets, knowing it had to be in one of them. He searched in hopes of acquiring any evidence that may tell him how he had ended up here. All searching proved futile when every pocket turned out empty handed, only deepening his curiosity. It didn't make sense since he distinctively remembered placing it in the depths of his overalls.

Unsuccessful in his search, his Holopad went off, alerting him of an incoming notification. He looked up. A message awaited for him on the screen. Will abandoned his current objective, its frequent electronic buzz between rhythmic intervals persistent. He pressed on the notification icon and a message opened up. The dispatch of the message's origin wasn't the surprising factor, Ezra Grayson. What was surprising is what it read.

You can trust me.