Dawn of the Cyborgs IC

Spoiler:

“You can't patch a wounded soul with a Band-Aid.” -Michael Connelly

7:30 AM. 2300 Zephyr Avenue, Beta District. Port Argis, an artificial port planet on the edge of the Lumien Consulate

The terrible overture of deafening gunshots ring through the air, set off by the booming percussion of the explosions and the staccato bursts of screams as men's lives are snuffed out. The rumbling roar of the tanks keep time and the heavy breathing emanating from his lips is like the virtuoso violin. War is a symphony, and he is its grim composer.

"Billy? Billy!"

His rifle rests on his lap, functioning as the baton as he conducts the dreaded symphony. He raises it as the symphony intensifies as if he had signaled forte, when in reality he wanted pianissimo. Bullets soar; the doors of the transport slide open like the crash of the cymbals. It's time to conduct, he thinks.

"Billy, sweetheart, wake up!"

He's back in the thick of things. The fresh blood accumulates on his lips as he runs across the desert. Railgun bullets soar past his head and he hears the screams of fallen comrades as they fall one by one in the hail of bullets. He is alive again, but then there are more screams. He looks up, and closes his eyes as the deafening blast of blue floods his pupils.

"BILLY!"

"INCOMING!" Billy Hadron sat bolt upright in his bed, sending the beautiful blonde Meg Lennox flying across the bed, clutching a growing red spot on her head. His biological skin was covered in a cold sweat and he was breathing heavily. He had been having the dreams again. He crawled across the bed to where Megan lied, her silver robotic arms clutching her head. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and repeated over and over again "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He was visibly shivering as he held Megan tightly to his chest and whispered those words over and over again as if they were a charm to keep the devil away.

"It's...okay." Megan said, a single crystal tear dripping down her nose and landing on the bed "I'm...I'm fine. Just...it's okay." Hadron's face was scarred by horror as a similar tear trickled down his cheek and plopped onto the memory gel pillow. He slowly let go of her as she coaxed him away and went into the bathroom. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror anymore. All he saw was an ironclad monster. His left arm, clad in skinlike silver metal, creaked ominously as he rested his hands on the sides of the basin, his eyes closed and tears dripping down his face. This was his life now: a slave to metal and a monster to men. Both of them got ready for work in silence.

Spoiler:

Dawn of the Cyborgs Act One: Broken Souls
9:30 AM

Hadron found himself sitting behind a desk, a mug of slightly burnt coffee in his right hand and a look of despair still clearly present on his face. He had a corner office-the payoff from busting a major cybernetics black market. The worst thing about robotic enhancements was the 50% tax. A $1000 enhancement cost $1500, so black markets ran rampant. Most virus outbreaks these days were due to illegal enhancements with hacking chips inserted. That damned finance director.

Sitting on Billy's desk was a stack of paperwork ready to be filled out. The DOCI still used paper copies because paper couldn't be hacked. One by one Billy looked through the papers and signed off on them using a pen attachment on his robotic arm, one of the few things it was good for, in his opinion. It was the usual load: files from past cases and legal bullshit. Cashing in his war school money to get a law degree was the best thing Billy had ever done, despite the fact that it double his workload. Lumien laws were just as bureaucratic as human laws. At the completion of each signing, Billy ran the papers through a scanner-like device built into his desk. The information was instantly transferred into light and fiber optic cables sent it at light speed to the Archives back in the Spire on Desbin, where they'd be filed away forever, safe from hackers of all kinds.

He had been performing this ritual for about an hour when he finally leaned his head back in his black leather hoverchair and sighed audibly, bringing his hands to his face. Why was he such a f*ck-up? He had never done anything wrong in his life to deserve this bullshit. Even when he was awake the memories haunted him; the bombs falling like drops of rain, the tanks exploding with men still inside and the scream of the shrapnel as it cut through the air and brutally killed allies and enemies alike. He had contemplated suicide before just to force the memories out of his head. It would be so easy. Just bring the gun attachment up to his head and pull the trigger and all the memories would just...no. He couldn't let them win. If Billy killed himself that would be another victory for the Red Legion, another life claimed. Twelve-trillion four-hundred-billion two-hundred-million nine-hundred-fifty-thousand five-hundred and sixteen, it would be then.

Billy rose from his chair gracefully and, abandoning his paperwork, walked to the massive bay glass window behind his desk to look out at his city. The office was diamond-shaped, with two massive panes of tinted glass composing the back end of the office and intersecting at a right angle. From this vantage point high above the street Billy could see the beauty of Port Argis' Alpha District. The occasional silver blur of a flying car passed his eyesight and the roar of horns could be heard through the morning air. The artificial morning sunlight caught the aluminum-and-glass spacescrapers all around and lit them up like the lights on a Christmas tree. It was breathtaking. Billy heard a familiar Belgian voice in his head.

"Bonjour detective Hadron. How are you?" A hologram projector built into the hovering clear acrylic desk projected what appear as a seafoam green ball of light slightly wobbling on an axis in the center of the room. This was Altair, Billy's AI.

"Don't bother me right now." Billy said.

"Bad night then?" Altair replied, floating a few inches closer.

"They all are." Billy replied, holding back the tears "Every one of them."

"You should invest in Starbucks." Altair mused "You'd surely be making some of your money back with the dividends." Billy almost smiled, but suppressed such a gleeful emotion and instead stared out at one of the many silver buildings on the horizon. This particular one was where Megan worked.

"Altair," Billy replied "can you please get some of that bureaucratic bullshit off my desk and get someone else to do it? I'm fried."

"Certainly, monsieur." About half of the pile of papers vanished in a blur of greenish light.

"Yeah thanks."

"You're welcome, monsieur." Altair replied "Would you like me to leave you alone?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." Billy replied "I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Alright. Au revoir, monsieur." The star disappeared from the center of the room and Altair vanished.

"Yeah whatever." Billy rested his metallic forearm on the glass and sighed. How was he going to live like this for the rest of his life?

---

Shen Carbinx was a wanted man. Apparently calling a DOCI investigator an "incompetent monkey" and "dumber than a fruit fly high on cocaine" was grounds to be shot at, and it had all gone downhill from there. Now there was a dead detective laying in an alley, a growing pool of blood surrounding his head and chest. Who knew a Lumien had that much blood in them. Shen wasn't remotely upset by the macabre image at the base of the building on which he stood and was actually somewhat amused by it. He had been so easy to kill, so stupid. Apparently detectives didn't prepare themselves for laser attacks to the back of the head. Jerry sat on his shoulder, a growing look of concern on its robotic face as Shen's cold steel eyes glared at the crime scene.

"I'm not sure that was the best course of action, sir." Jerry said in a voice similar to C3PO's.

"Whatever." Shen replied aggressively "He was asking for it. You're the one who shot him afterall."

"You ordered me to, sir."

"Yeah whatever. Let's get out of here." Jerry nodded and hovered off of Shen's shoulder, rocket boosters in his boots causing him to fly. Shen took off across the rooftops, Jerry close behind him. He leapt a chasm between two buildings and fell just short. A piece of metal appeared under his foot and sprung slightly, propelling him onto the next rooftop. Shen was quite agile and seemed to leap incredibly high in the air for someone his size. The farther they got from that crime scene, the better.

It didn't take much to make the small apartment humid, Lalna knew that after living there for several years. But that didn't stop her from constantly forgetting this and starting projects that are likely to make her uncomfortably warm. Lalna hunched over a robotic jaw she was currently constructing for a client, welding the plates of the jaw together for a smoother and more comfortable fit. The welding tool attached to her cybernetic arm was shooting out a controlled flame towards the jaw, melting the pieces together, and puffing out hot air towards her face, making the apartment feel more like an oven. Her already short hair was tied back in an even shorter pony tail, her bangs pinned to her forehead with a small clip, to avoid them catching on fire. Even with her hair out of her face, she still found herself rather sweaty. Lalna signed, switching off the welding tool with a quick spark. Before continuing her work she was going to have to cool down.

Lalna wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead with her human hand, smearing soot across the skin. Lalna pushed herself away from the table she was working on, which happened to also double as her kitchen table, letting the hover chair wiggle and spin slightly from the sudden movement. She took a moment to take in the quiet of her apartment, without the screech of the welding tool or the whine of the searing metal, it was silent. Lalna allowed herself to grin, the peacefulness of the apartment building was one thing she was truly thankful for. Her neighbors never complained about her thumping about or bringing strangers into the building for reconstruction or check ins on their new parts. Lalna wondered if they feared her. Well that was none of her business. As long as she had a place to stay she was content. That was until she ran out of money to pay her bills. It was getting harder and harder to pull together the money, with the cybernetic black market growing it was harder for her to find work.

The growing heat of the apartment reminded Lalna why she had stopped working. Holy hell it was humid. Lalna stood up, stretching her arms above her head, grinning when she felt her stiff back crack and pop a few times. She scratched absentmindedly at the bit of skin between her cybernetic arm and her shoulder. After a moment of waiting Lalna allowed her feet to detach from the ground, hovering lightly. She had become rather lazy at home, always wearing her anti-gravity belt to keep from needing to walk around. She drifted slowly around her apartment, making her way towards the one window that wasn't jammed shut. Lalna struggled to force open the window, cursing herself for not reattaching the hand to her cybernetic arm, as a welding attachment wasn't helping her current situation. After a few moment of embarrassing struggling, and promising to finally work out, the window finally opened. Lalna sighed with relief as the artificially cool breeze washed into her apartment, making the whole place much less uncomfortable.

With that out of the way Lalna began to drift back over to her work station, passing and then retuning to the large refrigerator. It didn't look a whole lot like a refrigerator, more like a wall of gel. Lalna took a few minutes to obverse the food items suspended within the gel, locating what she was craving most. Lalna rolled up the sleeve of her shirt before plunging her human arm into the massive cooling unit, feeling around for a drink. The cool gel felt amazing on her sweaty skin, and for a fraction of a second contemplated sticking her head inside. However she reminded herself of her first time getting stuck in her refrigerator, and the second time. After a moment of shifting through the gel she finally wrapping her fingers around the cool cylinder of a can of her favorite artificially colored, flavored and sweetened drink. Once it was secured in her grasp, she removed her arm from the unit. Her arm came out like it went it, except a bit colder. With a drink in her hand, Lalna floated back over to her chair, popping the top of her drink and downing a few gulps. Now that she was sufficiently cooled she could continue her working.

Shen scrambled across the rooftops, occasionally vaulting alleys and splits in the houses in single massive bounds. Should he falter, a bar of steel appeared below his feet and gave him something to push off of. Soon he escaped the Epsilon District and found himself in the Beta District, still running across rooftops like a new-age assassin. Now that he was away from the murder, Shen was bored. He needed something to do, and so he continued to run towards the Alpha district. There at least there'd be some significant activity. Jerry flew behind him, rocket engines blaring, propelling him through the morning air.

Spoiler:

Pescus Balik believes he lived a charmed life. He had a nice little cottage on the coast of Wolfgang Lake, a job that he loved more than anything else in the world save his beautiful wife and three tadpole children, who brought him more joy in his life than he'd ever experienced. He woke up that day, as usual, with one of his three sons swimming around his bed quickly. This one was named Aaron, a two-year-old boy with the face and coloration of a clownfish. Pescus opened one eye, then the other, and slowly shifted, careful not to disturb the woman sleeping in his arms. Her name was Marra. She was an Upper Reef hybrid, with beautiful yellow-and-blue striped skin and a head like an angelfish's. A frill-like mane of soft scales flowed from her head like hair and flowed freely in the underwater room. He smiled and bent towards her face, kissing her awake. His son yelled "EW!" and swam out of the open door into the hall, yelling at the top of his lungs "Ew! Daddy kissed mommy!" Marra smiled, and kissed Pescus on the cheek.

"Goodmorning, sweetheart." she said in Icth, the language of the Icthians.

"Good morning, my love." he replied, beginning to float off of the bed.

About a half an hour later Pescus opened the hatch leading to the above-ground section of his home. He wore his pressure suit and goggles, protecting him from the low pressure and lack of water on the surface. There was a brisk wind blowing off of the water today, and it gently caressed his skin as he walked to the window and took in the view. Wolfgang lake was saltwater, and the breeze and tidal generators on it made it function more like a small sea than a lake. He watched as a few stray joggers made their way across the long expanse of white beach. Pescus' house was on the edge of a pier, jutting out into the water. Aboveground it appeared to only be a simple round wooden shack around fifteen feet wide with a thatch roof, but below the waterline was a massive mansion-sized house made of coral. As he took in the beautiful view, Marra arrived at his side. She was wearing goggles and water suppliers on her gills like he, but lacked the pressure suit.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said in Icth.

"Very much so." Marra replied, resting her head on his shoulder and allowing her mane of rainbow scales to trail down his shoulder "We have a beautiful home." He put his arm around her and held her close.

"I love you." he said.

"And I love you." They stayed there a moment, staring out into the warm water and ocean breeze. Soon Pescus departed down the pier to head off to work. He kissed Marra goodbye and walked to the edge of the pier, where Poisson, his restaurant, was located. He opened the doors at precisely 9:30 AM to find that his workers were already inside, preparing food for the day. It was a relatively small restaurant, about thirty feet long and twenty-five feet wide. The floors and walls were wooden, with a tropical-style thatch roof. Circular wooden tables were placed around the restaurant, at the back, opposite the glass front door, was a long preparation station with a glass window in front of it. Here, the chefs prepared some of the food (though other things were done in the back of the restaurant. A door to Pescus' left on the side of the restaurant facing the lake was the restaurant's deck, freshly-swabbed and ready to go. The bartender, a pufferfish Icthian by the name of Dorox, was already in his position, a wall of assorted alcoholic beverages six feet long behind him. Pescus greeted him in Icth and headed into the back kitchen to oversee the preparation of food. Soon fish-lovers from all around the city would come in and begin to order. The restaurant supplied a wide variety of common fishes from around the galaxy as well as quite a few Icthian recipes (Icthian food resembles Japanese and Chinese food). One by one, occasional people drifted into the restaurant, purchasing breakfast. Some sat at the indoor tables while others traveled to the desk where they watched the ships on the ocean and felt the warm tropical breeze while eating their morning meals. Pescus himself walked out on the balcony with three Ack rolls (imagine an eggroll filled with rice and fish resembling salmon). He took his usual position at the left end of the long semicircular bar counter and turned the spinning chair towards the restaurant so that he could oversee any problems. The large leaves of a palm tree provided an adequate amount of shade. People occasionally stopped by Pescus and said hello. Most of the customers were Icthian, but there were a few other creatures mixed in; several Lumiens, one or two humans, and two Acirians were also present.

One of these Acirians sat down at the bar two seats from Pescus and ordered a beer. It was a purple Acirian wearing a silver jumpsuit that matched his silvery blue eyes. Sitting in front of it was a plate of sushi and a catfish roll, one of Poisson's only human dishes. This Acirian was a regular, an astrophysicist with no less than thirty-seven degrees who went by the name of The Engineer.

"Morning, Eng." Pescus said, waving to Engineer as he took a bite of a sushi roll.

"Mornin." Engineer said with a deep voice partially-muffled by a mouthful of sushi. Pescus leaned back on his stool and waited for other regulars to show up.

Draco Van Siegfried.


"The Pescus..." Draco thought out loud to himself. He stood in the doorway of the Pescus bar, his body an old looking blend of cybernetics. A place where wandering cyborgs stop by quite often, or so Draco was told. Heard they got good food - But Draco didn't need it. All he needed to consume was old, hard liquor. He came looking for work, or just another stop for a drink before he moves on to the next place. For some more drinking. The first thing that Draco did was hang his massive axe up on a hook, like it was a mere decoration. Before he walked away from it and went straight to the bar. "Let's just hope these stools are reinforced..." Draco says to himself as he plants his metal behind on the first stool. He fortunately didn't break it, nor were there signs that he would. Draco raised a finger into the air, and shouted, "Bartender! The largest bottle of whiskey you got."

Several hours had passed since Lalna had opened her window in hopes of making her work more comfortable. It had been even longer since she had begun the task of creating the cybernetic jaw, but she had lost track of how long it had been. Hours? Days? Weeks? Well there was no way it could be the two latter options, as she hadn't stopped to rest or eat since she started, and if it had been weeks or even days she would have easily starved to death or passed out from exhaustion. All of a sudden the hissing of the welding tool attached to her cybernetic arm shut off, and Lalna stepped back from her work with a satisfied grunt. The cybernetic jaw was easily one of the nicest project she had worked on, and her effort really showed. The metal was smooth and without uncomfortable seams and the teeth even looked realistic. She fiddled quietly for a moment, making sure the inner mechanisms worked that would allow the jaw to move up and down and left and right. After her final examination of the cybernetic jaw Lalna allowed herself a grin and a moments pause before learning back into it. As a final touch she would carve a very small and curly 'L' into the side of the jaw. It would be covered by synthetic skin, so no one would see it, but it was still nice to keep her own little touch on every project she completed. Soon the person who commissioned it would come over to her apartment and allow her to fit it onto him, then she would accept payment.

Lalna hovered across her room, taking a moment to toss the now empty can of soda into a recycling bin, over to the area she marked as her bedroom. While in reality it was just a sofa and a coffee table, it was where she slept. So it was the bedroom. On this coffee table sat a small, holographic, clock, which Lalna picked up. Rubbing her eyes Lalna glanced at the time and spoke out loud to herself. "Nine-thirty eh?" Her voice sounded drained. She began to switch out the welding tool for her normal-cybernetic arm. "I guess I pulled another all nighter." Lalna stretched, setting down the clock again. She really wasn't all that tired, the rush of working kept her awake. But she was hungry and was craving some strong drink. With a grin Lalna pulled on the long, white, labcoat she is never seen without, and put her goggles on over her eyes. A sort of auto pilot activated for the anti gravity belt around her waist. She never liked public transport, so flying to her favorite restaurant and bar combo was the next best option. Before heading out the door Lalna reached her hand into a small box with the label "BITCOINS" and in smaller text under it read: "DO NOT LOSE AGAIN." and pulled out a small card, acting much like a high powered credit card. This would hopefully have enough money on it to cover her bill. If not Lalna could always just offer the owner a free maintenance on his leg.

The fly to Poisson wasn't too bad, or at least not as bad as Lalna feared. It was still pretty early in the morning so there wasn't too much air traffic, and the wind wasn't too fierce either. Once she arrived Lalna took a moment to fix her hair, messy from being moved in the wind, before pushing open the door. Pleased by the amount of people inside. "Morning Pescus!" Lalna said in a chipper voice. She had been to the bar enough times to be known as a regular, and to know the owner on a first name basis. This restaurant was pretty much the only one of its kind, so it was impossible to get it confused with anything else. She made her way over to the bar, her goggles still over her eyes and her hair still windswept despite her attempts to tame it. "I need something cheep and tasty. I just pulled another long night and I'm famished!" She sat herself down in her favorite seat, one with a view of the entire restaurant. "And I'll take whatever special beer you've got on tap today."

"I knew my perfect morning was missing someone!" Pescus exclaimed, smiling warmly as Laina entered the patio area. She was a welcome face on the patio, a regular who came in whenever times got hard and money constricted to escape the stress of society. Without even needing to be asked, a waiter hustled off to grab Laina her usual breakfast meal and Dorox grabbed a glass from the rack hanging above his head. He filled it with a deep amber beer with white foam atop it and sat it in front of a cushioned red barstool next to where Pescus was relaxing in the shade. Dorox then turned to Draco, a very unique-looking character with a body that looked like it came from a steampunk comic book, and smiled as much as a fish could.

"Coming right up, brother." he said, grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels from under the counter. He placed it in front of Draco, guessing that the robot couldn't die of alcohol poisoning. Engineer shot the cyborg and his massive bottle of whiskey a dirty look before swallowing the sushi roll in his mouth. He took a drink of the bottle of beer in his hand, and placed it on the table loudly, the hollow plopping noise revealing that it was empty.

"What's the special anyways?" Engineer asked.

"Budweiser Sylvanian Summer." Dorox replied "It's made from hops grown in the black soil of the Sylvanian Forest Band plus a bit of Alar, a citrusy fruit similar to an orange. Tastes kind of like beer mixed with a dreamsicle."

"Sounds good." Engineer replied "Hit me up." Dorox nodded and poured Engineer a glass. Engineer thanked him and turned to address Laina, beer in hand.

"So Lay." he said "How goes the robotics business? Heard the Senate's trying to lower the cybernetics tax again. Doubt Consul Addrax will let it through, though. He's being particularly stingy this time of year. Guess he's trying to suck us try again so he can make more damned bombs." While Engineer spoke, another familiar face entered the patio, waving hello to Pescus. It was a young human man, no more than 22, with short blonde hair and a short matching beard. He was a small, skinny man, with wide blue eyes and a wide mouth that seemed to be constantly smiling. He dressed casually, wearing a slightly wrinkled tan tee shirt, a pair of golden brown khaki pants, and brown leather sandals. In one of his hands was a black guitar case, and in the other was a black soft case about the size of a ukulele. On his head was a straw hat that rested just above his eyes, and from his mouth he limply held a cigarette. The man made his way to a small wooden stage at the end of the balcony and, sitting his instruments down, strolled to the bar and placed his elbows on the counter.

"Hit me up, Dory." he said with a New York accent "Three cubes, a shot of vodka, two of rum, spriga rosemary."

"Rough night, eh Jeremy?" Pescus asked smiling.

"I'll say." Jeremy replied, watching as Dorox prepared the drink "Alice dumped me."

"Ouch, sorry about that mate." Pescus said, frowning "I know you like her."

"Like? I loved 'er." Jeremy sighed loudly and took the drink from Dorox "Yo Dante, can I get a plate a oysters over here?" An Icthian waiter across the deck nodded and rushed off to the kitchen. "Oh, hey Laina." Jeremy said, nodding to her as he took a sip of his drink.

Lalna, now being able to figure out where Pescus' voice was coming form, turned towards him and gave a low, theatrical, bow. Still bent at the hips, Lalna looked up at Pescus with a wide smile spread across her face. "Thank you thank you!" She exclaimed, as if greeting an audience of adoring fans. "I try my hardest!" Lalna straighten herself up, walking over to the barstool Dorox had set her drink in front of to prepare to wait for her meal. But the wait here was never too long. Lalna gave a quick, thank you style, nod to Dorox for the drink. She sat herself down, using her robotic arm to steady herself, the antigravity on her belt turning off. "You know how much I love this place, it's a lovely distraction from the craziness of life." She took a long swig of her drink, exhaling loudly as she set it back down again. "Even though this place can be rather crazy in its own...endearing way."

She leaned back into her seat, her robotic arm holding her drink steady, sipping from it occasionally. She glanced around at the patrons of the restaurant, most of which she recognized but a few of which she did not. A particularly large man was one that Lalna would have remembered easily. And damn did he have a huge drink. She ought to have a drinking contest with him someday, if he ever becomes a regular. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, taking another swig of the beer. She listened to Dorox's explanation of the beer of the day with a grin on her face. She raised her half drained glass to him.

Engineer, now that was a face she could always remember. She pressed her glass to her lips, letting out a sigh as she drank. "Well Eng, same old same old. It's getting harder and harder to get business now a days." She downed the rest of her drink, motioning Dorox for a second. She was going to need it. "It's been getting expensive to run the business now a days." A plate of food was put in front of Lalna. She grinned to the waiter and nodded her head in thanks. It was her favorite, some strange rendition of a seafood omelette filled with fish and vegetables that she had no name for. Lalna always promised herself she would try and learn Icth, but never started. Her nimble robotic fingers picked up a fork, cutting into the meal. "It's tough to find people to work on." Lalna started, blowing on a piece of omelette. "I've been having to raise my prices, but when people hear them they say they would rather go to the black market trade." She stuffed the chunk into her mouth. "They say it's cheeper there." Lalna chewed, loving the flavor but being unable to hide the upset look on her face. She swallowed the continued. "I'm nervous that eventually I'm just going to have to shut down my business and try to find someone in the black market to hire me."

Just then another one of the bars familiar faces, one that Lalna was rather fond of, came in. Jeremy, someone she was able to relate well to because he was as human as she was. Lalna raised her now filled drink to him, listening to his worries as she stuffed her face hungrily. "Now now Jeremy." Lalna started once she had finished what was in her mouth. "Isn't it a bit early to have your heart broken?" Lalna felt sincerely sorry for the man, break ups were no fun especially when you really like, or in his case love, someone. She patted the bar stool next to her. "Come on man, the morning is nice and the food and drink are awesome as always."

It's early in the morning, business are just opening their doors to their first customers, and Hotel Aquaria, a immaculate resort on the edge of Wolfgang lake made entirely of acrylic glass fish tanks stocked with rare and unique specimens from all over the galaxy, is just setting out the morning buffet for it's high income costumers who pay a premium price of their currency equivalent of 500$ a night unless they own a time share. A few families make their way across the grass and beach surrounding the lake towards various tourist traps and aquatic activities such as boating, water skiing, fishing and scuba diving. Hardly anyone is entering the hotel. Save one short red haired girl about the age of 4, dragging a bright pink disney princess suitcase behind her. She makes her way across the courtyard, stopping briefly to admire a collection of potted sarracenia by a small kiddie pool laid out a couple hundred feet from the glass pavilion that marks the edge of the resort property and the entrance gate for visitors and costumers alike. There's a security camera disguised as a fake ficus plant to her right as she approaches the front desk at the center of the lobby. She momentarily diverts her course in order to turn, face the camera, smile, wave and then continue on her way with a wink. The receptionist, a short Lumien woman with metallic gray hair tied in a tight bun at the back of her head, approaches her and asks if she's looking for her mummy. "No, I'm looking for questions. Or an answers. Doesn't matter which. Both entail the other." She replies, the receptionist takes a step back surprised. However, seeing as this must be a fluke, possibly a line in a new children's movie she hasn't yet seen being quoted back at her, she continues with her line of inquiry. "Are you lost?" The girl looks at her earnestly, setting down her bag and unzipping it. "No Casmire," The receptionist looks at the girl, shock evident on her face, and she quite reasonably, as they've never met, wonders; How did she know my name? the girl either doesn't notice or more likely, doesn't care because seconds later she says "I am found." and Hotel Aquaria is wiped off the map.



---
When planning a heist, the first thing you do is pick a target, the next thing you do is pick a time. Time, time is important. They had learned that lesson long ago. Time, although non existent, was more important than the means, the motive and the target. Wait no, that was backwards. Time, although non existent, is, was and will be, more important than the place, the setup and the pay. Said that backwards. Sorry.

Let's try that again.

When planning a heist, the first thing you do is pick a target. In this case; Hotel Aquaria. The most immaculate, trendy and, to date, expensive, hotel currently open to the public. Just start out in either the Alpha, Beta or Zeta districts, take as many left turns as you like and you'll get there, or relatively close to there, eventually. Maybe. Or not. We don't know. Okay, that was quite frankly the worst advise given by a cab driver ever. So sorry. Wait no. Wrong life, wrong place, wrong time. And we're not sorry. At all. Ever. Unless we change our mind. Bite me. Or, you know, don't. Doesn't really matter. You'll just end up doing or not doing it eventually anyway. Sorry, that's just purgatory for you. Or, at least we think it's purgatory. Might not be. Might not even be sorry. We don't know.

Let's try that again.

When planning a heist, the first thing you do is pick a target, the next thing you do is pick a time. What you do after that is just logistics, statistics, and passing the time (over and over and over and over and -okay I think they get the picture.) After all, you've only got the same 29,930 days, 7 hours 48 minutes and 56 seconds to relive, retry and perfect it over and over again until you finally get it right. So you'll learn the methodology eventually. If you're very, very good at playing roulette. Over and over and over and over again.

Let's try that again. You know what they say, third time's a charm. Unless you're on one of those 3 Blanks and then you die, or not die, cycles of best seller proportions. In that case I'm so very, very sorry, but your creator is an uncreative arsehole and you should tell them that. They usually find it endearing. Unless of course, they don't. In which case you're so totally screwed.

Anyway... back to my original point(s).

(1: You're going to die. Repeatedly.
(2: It's going to be funny as hell. HAHAHAHA.

Wait, wrong points, sorry.

Let's try that again.

When planning a heist, the first thing you do is pick a target. Second, you pick a time, third, you scout out your location, fourth, you plan, plan and plan until you don't think you can plan anymore. Then, you go outside, drive to starbucks, grab the darkest, thickest and most tar flavored coffee they can legally make and plan some more. And repeat. Over, and over and over and over again until you get so sick of it that you go to a Russian casino and play roulette until you drop dead. Figuratively or literally, doesn't really matter. And then once you've repeated the process enough times you move onto stage three. Gathering resources. I had the most fun with this, actually. Because see, this is my last round about the circle and this is your first. Or last, or not. So, basically, I'm at the top of my game. I know everything and you know, well, next to nothing. Maybe. We don't actually know exactly how much you do, or do not know, but it sounds cooler if I belittle you. After gathering resources, which I absolutely cannot tell you about as it would ruin the game, we get to the fun part. Execution. I love executions. They have this note of finality to them that you just can't get anywhere else. Call me a terrible person, but if I could choose between a hot date and an execution, I'd combine the two and execute the date. But enough about me, we're here to talk about you! All important you. Oh, wait, no we're not! Totally forgot about that for a minute. Oppsie daisy!

We're here to talk about me. Only me. And how only me just managed to blow Hotel Aquaria, all its occupants past and present off the map. At just the physical age of 4. Mentally I score around 574, but let's not dwell on that. Let's dwell on the fact that you're currently holding a piece of paper in your hand which you've just pulled out of a strong box which you pulled out of the rubble of Hotel Aquaria, which you were, up until 5 minutes, 46 seconds ago, about to bestow with the gift of a few splashes of spray paint and a spurt or two of ferro fluid just for ironies sake because isn't it just an absolute pain to remove from the ceiling and front porch window in your foster parent's house on Digaplex RD in the Epsilon district. Took you about... 2 hours, 15 minutes and 7 seconds to give up didn't it?

Think on that for a second.

Ruminate on it and tell me you're not terrified.

----
Voxel looked up from the stack of papers now clutched in one of its transparent tentacles, its pulse visibly quickening as it was both completely and 100% transparent, and going into a panic as realization dawned on it.

This paper had been written before Hotel Aquaria had gone up like a firework, the shockwave completely flattening the normally tall grass surrounding Wolfgang Lake and sending the sailboats on it either careening over sideways, dumping their occupants into the lake, only to have a rain of derbies ranging from the acrylic which used to make up the entirety of the hotel and its frankly breath taking aquatic exhibits, to less desirable and probably best left unmentioned... organic objects pour down en masse on top of them. Or, if the people were lucky and on the opposite side of the lake somewhere near Poisson, they just felt a slight breeze as they got to watch as Hotel Aquaria turned into a explosive light show of horrific proportions and even more horrific ramifications.

And, as Voxel looked back down at the paper still clutched in one of its tentacles, what exactly those ramifications would be, were unfortunately, only just being realized by the one squid who was the least likely to do anything about it, and take the first opportunity to clear out and never voluntarily hear of or talk about the Hotel Aquaria terrorist strike again. It had only been 6 minutes 35 seconds since the hotel had been obliterated and Voxel narrowly avoided death via incineration by ducking into a filter intake along the edge of the lake, and things were about to get very sticky since it had been, against better judgment, one of the first people to make it to the blast zone and thus the first person to discover a black metal box about the size of a dishwasher half buried under a disgusting mix of water, powdered acrylic and with pink sludge that could only be the remains of a blast victim. It was especially bad, since also against better judgment, it had been goaded into opening the box by Dalfea who was currently examining the inside namely by floating 30 feet to its left above another pile of rubble that Voxel assumed used to be the lobby and waving her semi transparent hand through the air in its general direction.

"What the hell are you even doing? You can't 'examine the box' from 30 feet away. First, you say I'd need the paper so I won't end up a suspect. Then, you say I'll end up a suspect anyway and you just wanted me to open the box so you could 'examine it' and now you're floating in the air on the opposite side of the lobby room as me. What's that supposed to do? Set up a forcefield that keeps the police from seeing me? Yeah, like that's going to work. I'm out of here."

Dalfea looked back at Voxel, her blue hair floating in the air around her head looking eerily similar to how people possessed by supernatural beings seem to defy gravity just for creepo points.

"I am searching. Not setting up a invisibility field. Police will be here any minute. Approaching from the main highway along the outskirts of the Zeta district. Lone patrol cars making an approach from Alpha and Beta. Expect a crime increase in all districts. No watchers, or so they think. 5 minutes left to run. You'll make it to the lake but will be interrogated later once they take prints off the safe. They'll also be wanting those papers."

Voxel shifted from side to side, looking nervously around it for any other, less conspicuous escape options besides the one stated by Dalfea. Maybe it could make it to the lake filtration system and-

"Will not work. Witnesses. Cameras. Already rolling."

Voxel glanced back at Dalfea who proceeded to ignore it and continue floating in the air collecting supernatural creepo points. "Yeah, thanks for dashing my hopes and dreams Dalfea. I can see it now, my entire future, spent behind bars because someone thought it would be a good idea to just waltz into a blast zone to look at what, a box filled with creepy ass letters?"

Dalfea turned to look at Voxel and stated, "You're welcome." Completely straight faced and with a look of sincerity that made it impossible to tell if she was serious or not.

"F#ck this, I'm outta here." Voxel turned and started marching determinedly in the direction of the lake, planning on pretending to have fallen off one of the boats since it could make it to the other side of the lake within a few minutes once it got into the water. It was only because Voxel happened to glance down at the paper as it prepared to throw it as far away from it as possible, hoping that it would deteriorate beyond recognition or usefulness in the mess of water and acrylic shards littering the grass around the 'north' point of the lake, that it didn't run. Because upon further inspection, it appeared as though the paper had responded to him.
----

Oh! But don't drop the paper! Do that Voxel and you've just dropped the opportunity of a life time, and consequently, dropped your lifetime expectancy to around... lets say however long it takes you run past that police car landing on the grass 50 feet to your left.

---
Voxel looked rapidly from the paper to the indicated spot and saw that yes, there was a police car landing in the grass, and yes, they did see it and appeared to be heading in it's direction.

Well crap crap crap crap crap. There goes plausible deniability. Alibi, I need an alibi. Prove it wasn't me. The papers! Yes! The bomber left them for... for... what? Me? Crap no, still a suspect. Or victim? Yes, I'll just say they were threatening me because... because... Agh, no. If I were a victim then I'd be dead. I'm not meant to be dead. I mean, what's the point of addressing a letter to a dead man? None at all. So... ha. Not a victim, not a target, not a associate. Then what?

"A convert." Dalfea interjected helpfully.

"Sh#t." Voxel looked back over to Dalfea, although to the approaching police car, it looked like it was looking over at a completely empty expanse of air.

Dalfea drifted over to where Voxel was standing, her hair still floating around her head like the metallic blue sea anemone, her green and yellow mottled bandana not doing much but clump it into two equally animate sections. She gestured with a semi transparent hand towards the sheet of paper.

"Keep reading."

Having nothing better to do as the police made their approach, Voxel looked back down at the paper and was slightly disturbed to read;
---

Yes, Hello. I'm still with you. Or rather, was. Until I wasn't. Because see? I know what everyone everywhere is going to do. Always. So I can do this. I can write you a letter that appears to respond to whatever you're thinking, or saying, or doing. Or not doing, not saying or not thinking. All depends on how you read it. Left to right, right to left, up to down, down to up forwards or backwards. Perspective, Voxel, is everything. And you know what? I think you're sheep. All of you. Always playing follow the leader, putting on white, trying to fit in, blend in, look like everyone else until you simply vanish amongst a sea of white. Equate white with good, black with bad, separate the two and you get a picture. A black and white picture, but a picture non the less. The sad part is, you think the end game is to get rid of the black, the impurities, the wolves and the goats who either lead or chase you in the wrong direction. But you know what? Get rid of the black and you get a blank page, get rid of the goats and the shepherd looses their milk and cheese, everyone needs food, and without an alternative source, lamb wracks will be the main course, get rid of the wolves and disease spreads. Because you need black to make a picture, you need goats to lessen the mortality rates, and you need wolves to pick off the infectious before they spread. See, you need me. You'll never admit it, but you do. You and Dalfea, and a few others who I'd be cheating myself if I named, will try and eliminate me, eliminate the black, the goats and the wolves. But in turn will introduce a shade of gray to the picture. Because none of you are white, not really, you just paint your fur, some better than others, the color you want it and pretend that's who you really are because it makes you look better to the idealists, who are a white lie in and of themselves because they're just as biased and bigoted as the rest. Just in a different way. But see, in all of this, we never once get color. Depth, yes, color no. Because in order to have color you need to remove your monochrome glasses and see the truth. But you don't. You won't. So you see? That's why I'm here. To help. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm just a Good Samaritan. The Good Samaritan and it's high time you dropped the blind act and removed the glasses.
---

"What. The. F#ck."

Voxel dropped the paper to its side and looked up at the police officer now standing a few feet in front of it, gesturing for Voxel to step away from the box and follow him.

In the time it took Voxel to read that only slightly disturbing paragraph, a swarm ambulances and police cars had pulled up on all sides of the blast zone and first responders were swarming the scene like a army of ants repairing their hill after being stepped on by a sadistic 4 year old. Which, as only Voxel knew, was not at all far from the truth. If the bomber, or The Good Samaritan as they apparently liked to be called, was actually telling the truth at all. Which, despite the compelling argument they put forward in the paper Voxel had read, (as it hadn't yet touched the ones stacked underneath it) there was absolutely no way of proving any of it as most of it was comprised of intentionally vague yet explicit metaphors, mockery and  purely philosophical statements which could hold little or no water in reality. If it was reality, because perspective, bias and bigotry. Convert, Voxel thought as it was lead away for questioning, was, unfortunately, starting to make a lot more sense now.

The shockwave could be felt all across the city as glass broke and car alarms ignited. The tinted acrylic glass of Billy Hadron's window cleaved clean in two, and he stumbled backwards as he heard the building shake. Something really freaking big had just exploded. Bombs falling from the air like raindrops, burning puddles of molten tungsten and liquefied bodies resting on the ground like puddles. The smoke turning the sky grey and practically blotting out the sun. He picks up his head, and sees a flash of pure whiteness, then nothing. Billy turned swiftly away from the window, the tail of his coat trailing behind him like the tail of a ghost. This was most definitely a terrorist attack, and Hadron killed terrorists. He picked the white earpiece up from his desk and put it in his ear as Altair began to feed him the information.

"Hotel Aquaria, Beta District." Altair said "Ballistic explosive, approximately .003 megaton blast. Building completely destroyed. The commissioner already deployed you monsieur. Agents Forchem, Malon, and Shraze are also on the case."

"Any other building damage?" Hadron asked as he threw the door to his office open and turned left down a long hallway. He noticed that his robotic arm from the forearm down now resembled a large laser pointer with an enormous clear glass lens on the end. He quickly converted it back to a hand, remembering what the doctors had said about instinctual transforming. He heard sirens echoing through the halls, and the flash of cyan lights could be seen shining out from the cracks in doors.

"Minor structural damage to surrounding buildings." Altair replied "It was a relatively isolated structure. Windows blown out all over. Several civilian casualties and car crashes. There's a Buick through the ninth story window of the Marriott."

"Son of a b*tch." Hadron seethed as he stepped onto the glass elevator at the end of the hall "Is Meg's building okay?"

"Oui. The blast didn't react that far. Few cracked windows on lower levels, but she's closer to the top. Bomb squad's been deployed, as well as three S.W.A.T. teams." Hadron held his arm out and stopped the door just as Agent Myre stepped in. He was wearing his usual light blue pinstriped suit with matching fedora and looked as if he hadn't slept in days. He clutched a mug of Starbucks coffee with his right hand and pressed his left against the glass.

"Why is it that every time we see each other it's because something blew up?" Myre seethed as the elevator doors closed.

"Nice to see you too." Hadron quipped "Long night, I take it?"

"Busted a black market cyber surgeon. There was a seven-hour standoff. Bastard barricaded himself in." A five-foot-tall seafoam green projection of an attractive human woman in a flowing dress appeared in front of them, next to a similar projection of Altair.

"Patching through CCTV footage from the hotel, monsieurs." Altair said. Both of them put on their mirrored sunglasses as a scroll of footage from around the hotel appeared. Nothing appeared out of order. Both Myre and Hadron chose footage using their mental synchronization with the glasses. Anything that they seemed out of place would be saved in a special folder. The elevator quickly descended to the hanger where the squad cars were stored.

Myre and Hadron stepped out into complete chaos. It appeared as if he commissioner had deployed every police unit in the city. Seafoam green lights blared ubiquitously as no less than thirty vehicles detached from their capsules and took off down lanes into the morning sky. Myre turned towards the orifice of the hangar and saw a massive trail of smoke trailing from across the city. He sighed loudly and ran to his squad car, a mustang-shaped white hovercar with brown and light blue accents. On the drivers-side door were the words "DOCI" in seafoam green block type and the passenger-side door said "ACU". Hadron entered a similar car, and both rose off from their docking modules in unison. The car's hood, doors, and grill all lit up green and began to flash. A blaring siren pierced the air as the two squad cars exploded forth from the orifice of the hangar at 200 miles per hour. A flickering blue forcefield appeared around the two cars, protecting them from impacts. They soared around obstacles expertly, every other car moving out of their way like a school of fish shying away from a pair of sharks. Their estimated time of arrival was one minute thirty seconds.

Already police had arrived at the scene. Six cars hovered down from the sky and stopped in front of every road leading towards the blast site. Officers exited their cars and formed a perimeter around the destroyed hotel. People fled from the blast site in a blinding chaos, some jumping over cars and shoving others out of the way. The air was heavy with smoke and the ground was littered with glass. One man tripped on a detached bumper from a crashed car and fell onto several shards of glass. The other people fleeing trampled him to death, adding one more body to the count of dead.

---

"Eh, maybe you're right." Jeremy replied to Laina, turning his head towards her as he took a sip of his signature drink. A waiter brought a plate of twelve oysters on the half shell to Jeremy and sat them down in front of where he slouched on the bar. He thanked the waiter and picked up an oyster. Using a small fork to loose it from its shell, Jeremy held the shell to his lips and sucked up the oyster meat. He smiled and, setting the shell down, returned talking.

"I mean, we had been going out for like six months, and I really thought she was right. Ah well, guess I'll just have to deal with it.

"Ugh, women." Engineer replied, rolling his eyes "This is why Acirians live longer than all of you. We don't have to deal with relationships." He took a long draught of the beer, and then addressed Laina.

"Sorry to hear about that Lays." Engineer said to her "That's the problem with government: taxes. There are so many goddamned taxes that people practically get robbed blind. There are taxes on income, taxes on gas, hell, I'm paying taxes on this beer! We even have a-" Engineer was cut off by a deafening roar, causing several people to fall to the ground clutching their ears. Several glasses at the bar cracked and Jeremy's on the rocks glass exploded, sending shards of glass flying. The shockwave shook the entire pier and knocked Pescus over, causing him to fall into the reed-filled water. The marble bar counter cracked, as did Engineer's glass of beer.

"Son of a b*tch!" Engineer exclaimed. Engineer, Jeremy, and Dorox, who vaulted over the bar counter, all ran to the end of the deck, where they could see the remains of a hotel burning farther down the shore.

"My God..." Jeremy sighed, his eyes locked on the massive column of smoke rising where the hotel had been. The screams of terrified passersby and the roaring shriek of metal on metal as cars crashed. So many other people joined them that the wooden rail began to crack.

Lalna sipped at her drink thoughtfully, now finishing off her second, and beckoned for a third. Poor Jeremy, he gave away his heart way to quickly. She was tempted to ask about the juicy details of the relationship that might have lead to the breakup, but she certainly didn't want to send Jeremy over the edge. Lalna shifted her now refilled drink from one hand to the other, enjoying the fuzzy feeling that was washed all over her. Seeing how upset Jeremy seemed reminded Lalna why she didn't date. She didn't have enough money, space in her apartment, or even time to date someone. It just seemed way too high maintenance for her liking, being surrounded by friends and beers was all she needed to be content with her life.

She took another lazy sip of her drink, calculating in her head how much it would cost, as she listened to Engineer. She nodded her head along to Engineer's words, agreeing with what he was saying. She couldn't stand how much she had to pay for everything, while her income could barely cover it. She grumbled a few curses at the people who ran the various districts, quietly cursing them for making survival so hard in a society that shouldn't.  

However everything was cut off by the deafening sound wave that passed through the restaurant. Lalna froze and braced herself as a way to keep herself from getting hurt by the sudden, strange, attack. The loud noise, adding to the screams, swears and the shattering of glass, was almost too much for Lalna to take. Instinctually her hands clenched, her cybernetic one stronger the her human one. Unluckily for Lalna her almost full glass of beer was sitting in her robotic hand when the roar occurred, and her hand clenched around the glass until it shattered in her grasp. Sending broken glass and beer all around her, most of the liquid ended up settling in her cybernetic arm.  

"Sh*t. Sh*t! Sh*t!" She began to let out a stream of curses, quickly hopping off of her barstool and attempting to dry out her cybernetic arm, as it sparked and smoked in reaction to getting wet. "Fu*k fu*k fu*k!" Her curses became louder and more desperate as she tried to dry her arm with the corner of her lab coat, almost making it worse by spreading the amber liquid deeper into the mechanism. The arm reacted to water almost like a human hand reacted to extreme heat. When you touch a stove, it hurts and your brain tells you to pull back. The same thing happens with Lalna cybernetic arm, she wanted it to be able to feel like a human hand. But now all she could do was try and stop the pain in her arm.

Lalna wrapped the arm in her lab coat, watching as the other patrons of the bar moved to the pier. She walked behind them, keeping herself steady by leaning on her human arm. Lalna stood up on her tip toes, in attempt to see over the taller people in the bar, and gasped softly at the view of the destroyed hotel. She took a step back, giving a very quiet prayer into her human hand. "Please let my apartment building be ok. My life's work and savings are inside and I don't have good house insurance."

Spoiler:

About seven minutes after the explosion had happened, police had arrived. Wearing full white-and-light blue Lumien battle armor, they began to evacuate the premises and form a perimeter. Myre and Hadron arrived on the scene approximately nine and a half minutes after the explosion. They parked their cars a block away from the remains of the hotel, the outskirts of the perimeter that was beginning to be set up, and kicked their doors open simultaneously. The area around them was filled with grey smoke and ashes blowing in the breeze. Burning pieces of paper fluttered through the air. In the distance they could see the light of fires and steel beams jutting forth from the ground like the fractured ribs of a dying animal. Fires had erupted on a few of the apartment buildings nearby and every window within a mile of the explosion was shattered. A light pole was laying across the street and laid on a badly-damaged compact car. People ran from the buildings in a raging panic, some tripping and getting unceremoniously trampled by a terrified mob of people. Two DOCI vans landed next to Myre and Hadron's cars and the back doors were thrown open. No less than fifteen fire engines Myre and Hadron were about to rush off when they were stopped by the perimeter police.

"ACU." Myre said, flashing his badge in one of the officers' faces.

"Sorry officer." the man replied "You can't pass this point without armor.

"Son of a b*tch." Hadron said, rolling his eyes "Did you guys bring an armory truck?"

"Yes sir." one of the officers replied, pointing at a nearby DOCI van.

"Ugh fine." Hadron ran off towards the van with Myre not far behind him. They jumped into the van and the doors closed behind them. Inside were two circular robotic armoring devices. Hadron stood in one and Myre in the other. Both spread their arms and grabbed the handles at the top of the circles. A set of metal stirrups grabbed hold of their feet and hands as a set of robotic arms grabbed pieces of Lumien Battle Armor from two cases at the back of the truck.

"Altair!" Hadron commanded into his mic "Access a DOCI security drone! Get me a visual of the scene!"

"Oui, monsieur." Altair replied "Accessing nearest security drone!"

The DOCI security drones were two-foot-wide four-rotored helicopters that patrolled the city, looking for crimes. They were the fastest crime-detection systems in the galaxy, thanks to their quantum computers and thermal vision. Thirty of them were nearby, and they had made a perimeter around the crime scene. Altair took over one of them, Drone E-44, and its front lights blinked orange twice. It soared off through the smoke and into the heart of the explosion. It's camera feed was sent to Altair's glasses, and he could see what was happening. The building had been destroyed completely, with only a few destroyed steel beams sticking out of the ground. Thus the drawbacks of making a hotel out of glass. Steam billowed from several tanks of water that had been buried under the rubble, and fires were ubiquitous. In the middle of it all, the helicopter's thermal vision picked up the outline of a squidlike creature standing in the middle of the blast.

"Monsieur!" Altair said "We have visual of someone in the ruins! They have sustained no physical damage!"

"That doesn't make sense." Hadron said "zoom in." The helicopter soared around a steel beam and hovered about twenty feet from Voxel. Something about the creature looked off. It seemed surprisingly calm for someone standing in the middle of an explosion.

"This isn't right." Hadron said "Give me control of the mic." By this point, Hadron's armor had been almost completely assembled. His glasses were taken and replaced by a helmet. It had been about three minutes since he had entered the van.

"Oui monsieur." Altair said "Patching you through now." The drone hovered about ten feet from Voxel, its taser gun clearly visible and its orange lights flashing brightly.

"Hand up!" Billy shouted into his microphone "Attention! This is ACU Agent Hadron! You are under arrest for suspicion of terrorism! You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law! Do not move and do not try to escape or you will be fired upon!" Myre, meanwhile, ordered Athena to call Exo.

"Exo are you here yet?" Myre yelled into his mic as the restraints let go of his hands and feet "The f*cking world is burning down over here!"

---

Pescus hauled himself up back onto the deck via the rail and flopped onto the ground looking generally bothered. He quickly rose and ran to the end of the pier, knocking over Jeremy's guitar case. Jeremy turned to see that Laina's arm was smoking. He grabbed a towel from a nearby table and tossed it to her. Everyone else's eyes were fixed on the explosion across the lake. Dorox exchanged glances with Pescus, and they both sighed loudly.

"What should we do?" some random member of the crowd cried out.

"Damn. Haven't seen an explosion this big since Talon." Pescus said, turning towards Engineer. Engineer looked down at his phone and turned 180 degrees, completely ignoring Pescus. He sprinted back across the deck and ran into the restaurant, where people were rushing around in a general panic towards the deck. He fought through the crowd, knocking three people on their backs and kicking the door open. He had received a text message from an anonymous number. It said: "Come and Play. HQ"

"Eng?" Pescus said, turning as Engineer ran away "That's odd. You okay Laina?" He said, seeing Laina's arm smoking.

Engineer arrived at his hovercar and its door opened for him. it was definitely an old car, with the appearance of a black Nissan Deltawing. There were a few specks of rust on the car, and a small hairline crack spread across the right rear view mirror. The car hovered into the air and took off across the lake at 300 mph. Cyan lights flashed from the grill of the car, something that Engineer had installed a while ago. The lights mimicked that of one of the DOCI police cruisers, something that allowed him to access the scene without much suspicion. He wasn't technically a DOCI agent, but he had been called in to assist them on a few occasions. His car reached the outside of the perimeter, near where Hadron and Myre had parked, and he landed just as Hadron arrested Voxel.

---

Meanwhile, a message from a DOCI AI was sent to Jenny Talton as she sunbathed.

"Agent Talton." the monotone voice said "This is DOCI Unit Hal. You have been placed on Emergency Deployment to the Aquaria Hotel in the Beta District. There has been a major terrorist attack. Your assistance is needed immediately."

Naturally, when Lalna saw a towel fly towards her, Lalna reached out to catch it, in attempt to grab it out of the air. It was sweet of Jeremy to get her a towel. The pain in her arm was starting to subside, as long as she didn't move it too much. Lalna's next mistake was instinctually trying to reach out with her stronger arm, the robotic one that was currently smoking and causing her large amounts of pain. As she attempted to grab the towel out of the air, the arm locked itself into a straight position, almost knocking Lalna over from the sudden force of it. Several more sparks and jolts of pain moved up and down Lalna, causing her to flinch.

The towel landed right in front of Lalna, much to her embarrassment. She bent over at her waist with a soft grunt, picking the towel up with her still good hand and stood back up. With a slight frown Lalna nodded to Jeremy and wrapped it around her sparking arm. She stood to the side, still quietly cursing under her breath as she attempted to dry up her arm. Lalna watched as the crowd of people chatted, panicked and moved out. Many people hurried out of the restaurant in attempt to keep farther away from the initial terrorist spot.

Lalna heard a familiar voice speaking to her, she looked up, a towel still wrapped tightly around her locked robotic arm. She tried to laugh a bit. "It's fine Pescus, it's happen before and a lot worse."

Draco Van Siegfried.


The moment Draco was presented with alcohol, he snatched it out of the bartender's hand and immediately started gulping it down. He stopped, feeling a sadness. He looked at the bottle of whiskey. Quietly mumbling to himself, "Ah, no matter whether or not I'm a man or a machine... This is the one thing that I'll never change..." He continued drinking, until the monstrous boom of the explosion in the distance made him drop his whiskey. The glass shattered on the floor and the contents puddled onto the floor. He looked down, annoyed. He was more irritated than anything. Draco got up all the stool, he was quick to try and leave, because he knew that a major terrorist attack would certainly keep the bar tender occupied so he can go without paying. Draco figured that it'd be a good idea to get away from here fast as possible.... But at the same time he was curious as to what caused an explosion that big. Draco walked by and grabbed his axe off the hook, he walked over to the crowd of people by the docks.

He looked up at the burning building, just as the various emergency workers went to go put out the fires and help. Draco attached his axe to his back and leaned on the railings. "Now ain't that a real motherfucker..." He said to no one in particular, "Can't you go one place without some chickenshit blowing something to nigh hell? I just hope they got whatever the f*ck they wanted..." He spoke in a gruff, hardened tone, and his brows were furrowed.

"I gathered that Myre, from the windows blowing out, crowds of needlessly panicked people running around like decapitated chickens and the general atmosphere of hysteria polluting my perception of reality."

Exo looked over it's shoulder, past the swirling mob of people to see Agatha calmly pushing her way through the crowd towards it.

"And on another note, there's a homicidal politician, blackmailer, charity donor, serial killer and past child prodigy trying to kill me."

Picking up it's pace, Exo ran around the corner of a building, sidestepping a pile of glass and what looked to be blood to avoid cutting up the bottoms of it's feet without good reason. It checked over it's shoulder again, Agatha hadn't appeared yet, but she'd likely seen it turn into to the alley way, and would be soon to follow if it didn't make it to the end of the small street and around another corner without her seeing it making it's exact route an unknown factor. It reached the end of the alleyway and turned right, picking up it's pace even more as a detour was the only way to ensure Agatha wouldn't be able to follow. That meant three rights, a left and then a straight shot all the way to the blast zone.

It balled it's left hand into a fist, activating the computer chip implanted in the Pons section of it's brain which pulled up a semi-transparent google search bar in the very center of it's vision.


Search: Spontaneous nonexistence

...

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Dyson, Freeman J. Non-existence of spontaneous magnetization in a one- dimensional Ising ferromagnet. Communications in Mathematical Physics 12 ( 1969), ...

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Non-existence of God, Hawking, Spontaneous creation, law of gravity in General Discussion is being discussed at Physics Forums.

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ON THE ELECTRODYNAMICS. OF. SPONTANEOUS NON-EXISTENCE. Zefferon. October 4 2004. PART 1 – CONTROLLED DISTORTION OF SPACE- TIME BY ...

Optional Reading:

Exo skimmed through the wall of text that inlayed itself over the incoming image of it's surroundings, before switching it's attention back to it's outgoing phone call, also being controlled by the chip.

"Myre, look at the CCTV footage, check for the Zefferon Effect. The bomber used antimatter."
----

Agatha watched as Exo ducked into the first nondescript alleyway available as if she were going to try and follow it. Backstreets were a great place to commit murder without too much risk of being seen, granted, but Exo had overlooked the obvious, and that was the fact that she knew it's destination, where the most bodies would be found, and what time it would arrive there, which was approximately after her, because by taking a detour, Exo had drastically increased it's travel time leaving Agatha to take the quickest, and overall most direct route to the blastzone.

Oppsie. Didn't think that one through did you sweetheart?

---

If Voxel was in a shitload of trouble before, it was in a buttload of it now. Do you know what a buttload is? It's a measurement of liquids that, when converted from buttloads to Hogsheads to gallons, equals approximately 126 gallons of trouble, and given the fact that trouble is pretty potent stuff and meant to be taken in small doses, this could be a lethal.

Maxx wrote:

Hand up!" Billy shouted into his microphone "Attention! This is ACU Agent Hadron! You are under arrest for suspicion of terrorism! You have the right to remain silent! Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law! Do not move and do not try to escape or you will be fired upon!"

Hand up? Even if I get that you think I'm a terrorist and all, and that you're stressed, military and probably a bit off your meds, HAND up? I haven't got any hands, even if I did, don't you coppers typically want 'em both? You know, so I can't use the other to pull one of those nonexistent weapons hidden on my transparent person? Right. Prime bunch of morons we got as a police force or whatever. My hopes of convincing them of my innocence just dropped a little lower.

Dalfea followed as Voxel was transported into custody, passing through several of the policemen and agents swarming the area, neither party seeming to notice. She looked over at Voxel who was currently being handcuffed and conveniently failing to mention that, to cephalopods and pretty much all squids, handcuffs are about as restraining as hair bands are to humans. If she found this humorous, it didn't show as she stated in perfect silence and monotone "Let the papers stand as your defense."

Voxel looked down at the papers still clutched in one of it's tentacles. It was only a matter of time before they were confiscated, but if it handed them over with a plea of not guilty...

"Send to Agent Myre of the DOCI." Dalfea interjected helpfully.

Voxel looked over at the drone and, just to prove a point, removed it's tentacles from the handcuffs long enough to wave the thick stack of papers in front of the drone's camera and say; "The bomber sent these to you, I think. Found 'em in a box a few yards that way" Voxel paused long enough to gesture to the spot where the safe box stood, partially buried and partially uncovered, before continuing: "It's weird, the papers respond to you almost except they were printed off a few weeks ago in a..." Voxel rubbed the end of one of it's tentacles across the printed letters, smudging the corners slightly with a tinge of purple. "Color Laser Jet printer unless they just used that brand of ink cartridge which I don't think they'd do... anyway, since I've got the right to be silent and both my silence and my speech can and thus will be used against me in a court of law, I'd just like to say, One: I'm not a terrorist. Two: I didn't blow up that giant fish tank. Three; Could you give these to DOCI Agent Myre? I've got a friend who say's they're for him. And, I don't have any hand(s). For future reference. Just these," Voxel waved it's two longest tentacles in the air before slipping them back into the handcuffs and waiting for a reply.
---

Agatha arrived at the blast site a few minutes later, and made a beeline towards the nearest checkpoint as best she could while pushing her way through a swarm of panicked pedestrians. When she arrived, she flashed her Azulian Political and Governmental Representative card in the guards' face (as there was no need to pull the War Council Director or Anti-Terrorism Investigation Board cards yet and a low profile was always a better profile.) before jogging off to one of the armory trucks and getting suited up and conveniently supplied with weapons that were not her own, as she waited for Exo's slightly belated arrival.

Myre and Hadron

"There's always someone trying to kill you Exo." Myre replied as the robotic arms completed assembling his helmet "Pulling the footage up now. I'll have it sent to you." Athena sent a copy to Exo as Myre continued to scan the footage on his helmet visor. The Zefferon effect was a sort of shockwave caused when a pocket of mass was annihilated, something that would devastate a hotel made mostly of glass. He began to scan the footage from the time of the blast. When he finally found what he was looking for, he actually gasped. A little girl simply exploded, blowing the lobby to smithereens and causing the camera to black out. The clip began to play on loop in the corner of Myre's visor.

"Mother of God," Myre mumbled "it was a little kid. Jesus. This is worse than the normal terrorism."

"Checking facial recognition software." Athena replied "Gimme a sec. I'm sending the clip to you now Exo. Billy, you might also want to see this too." The now-gif of the exploding toddler was sent to Exo and appeared on Hadron's screen. His mouth hung open as he watched the girl simply cease to exist, temporarily distracting him from what was going on with the drone. These must have been some absolutely evil terrorists for them to blow up a little girl. This was an atrocity the likes of which he had never seen before.

"That's weird." Athena said "This girl's a ghost suspect. She's not on any facial recognition software, even American and New Roman! It's as if she doesn't exist." Hadron closed the gif of the exploding toddler and moved to the film feed from Altair's drone. The squid creature had gotten itself out of the handcuffs and was waving a piece of paper around. Apparently it was for Myre, reaffirming Hadron's hypothesis that the blue Lumien was constantly followed by a cartoon-esque storm cloud of trouble. This kid seemed like a smartass, and was technically resisting arrest. Something that slippery would be very bothersome to deal with, so Hadron decided not to. He turned the mic off.

"Altair, shoot the bastard. Nonlethal energy round." he said

"Certainly, monsieur." The drone's gun fired a controlled blast of electricity at Voxel. It would knock him unconscious for at least an hour, time enough to thoroughly contain him.

"Myre," Hadron continued "You might want to get out there. Apparently our terrorist left you a gift."

"Merry Christmas to me." Myre quipped. The robotic arms now released them, and the two agents stepped onto the floor of the van. Just as they began to walk towards the doors, Agatha opened them and stepped in. Myre almost immediately recognized her from articles Exo had sent him before. She was a corrupt Azulan politician as venomous as her indigenous flora and fauna and armed to the teeth in both intelligence and weaponry. Obviously the was the blackmailing homicidal politician that Exo spoke of. Myre nodded to Hadron, and they grabbed her under both arms as they walked, dragging her away from the van.

"Yeaaaahhhhh no." Myre said "Yes, I know who you are. Yes I know you can kill me with a toothpick. Yes I know you know powerful people. No I am not letting you get within a half mile of that van or that blast site. Exo, we caught your killer. Care to have a look?" Hadron and Myre almost seamlessly handed Agatha off to four officers in full armor, and they restrained her with a set of magnetic-locking handcuffs. Each grabbed her by the arm and began to half-drag half-escort her to an armored grey van that had arrived on the scene.

(I'm going to assume that Jenny was briefed on the way there)

While Myre headed off to see what gift the terrorist had left him, Altair sent a message to Hadron that Jenny had arrived. He had been informed while being armored that she was arriving to assist with the situation, and seemed to have come prepared for the job. He approached her cautiously, for he had never been a fan of synthetic creatures. They simply unnerved him how real they looked when they were really just tin cans with AI personalities.

"Morning Agent Talton." he said "Agent William R. Hadron of the ACU. Sorry to have interrupted your vacation, but obviously we need all the help we can get right now. There's so much damned hysteria in the air that we don't know exactly what's going on, but I'm sending you the evidence we have right now. We caught the source of the explosion on camera, and it's not pretty. A five-year-old girl was the epicenter of the blast. It was an antimatter-based explosion and used the Zefferon Effect to shatter the mostly-glass structure. We're still gathering intel. Once we know our heads from a hole in the ground, we'll infiltrate the blast site and see what we can find. Doubt it'll be much, though. This is more of a cleanup job now. Nothing could have survived that blast." The Engineer passed Hadron as he finished that sentence and scoffed. There were at least a dozen things that could have survived that explosion that immediately popped into his head and at least fifty if he thought enough about it. He scanned the scene cautiously, the hysteria of the moment making it easy for him to infiltrate. This wouldn't provide a cover for long, though, as the police were beginning to organize a perimeter around the explosion and herd people out of the area in relative order. A soldier grabbed Engineer by the shoulder and said "You there! You are unauthorized to be here! Beat it or I'll arrest you!" Engineer wheeled around and touched one of the servos on the officer's chest with the end of what appeared to be a steel wrench. Approximately 8,000 volts of electricity coursed into the suit, destroying its circuitry and rendering the officer immobile. Engineer removed the officer's hand from his shoulder and lowered it to the officer's side, making it look like he was simply standing in a trance. With this amount of chaos, that would buy him at least five minutes.

Engineer continued along and soon found himself staring in the eyes of Agatha, an Azulan politician known in the criminal underground to be a serial killer. He had seen some of her work before back on Ardon, but hadn't seen her since. She seemed to have been arrested, and was in the custody of four officers.

"Hey Ags!" Engineer exclaimed, walking over "How's it going?! It's been a long time since I kicked your ass back on Ardon, eh?"

“Ardon? The only time I’ve been to Ardon was a peace conference in… November of last year? I’ve been very busy since then so you’ll forgive me if I don’t recognize you.  And… unless I suffered brain damage since then, I don’t think I ever had my ass kicked. Maybe you’re looking for someone else? Much like that Myre fellow over there who mistook me for… some sort of… killer? Terrorist? I’m not actually sure. Just said I could kill him with a tooth pick before calling some Exo person and handing me off to these people. Which was entirely uncalled for, I was just trying to help. I’ve got a job to do, orders to fill. This silly custody business is getting to the point of ridiculousness. It’s misconduct and just plain rude. Speaking of which…”

Agatha turned to one of the officers dragging her disgracefully off towards the prisoner transportation unit, her expression more disappointed than angry.

“Aren’t all approved and legal agents, officials and representatives supposed to be wearing ID tags and protective armor? That’s what I was told to do at the perimeter by...”

She looked around for the person who actually had told her to head towards the armory truck, but instead spotted the officer Engineer had frozen like a statue.

“That guy, I think. Wait… no… look, I think his suit is malfunctioning somehow, he’s frozen like a statue. Either that or he’s having some kind of episode.”

She gave Engineer a sly little smile that could be because she was confused and trying to be polite, or could be because she’d just covertly pointed out to anyone with at least the brain mass of a cockroach that Engineer was here without license, permission and had harmed or prohibited an official officer from doing his official job.

And personally, she didn’t care whether or not the people arresting her took notice, cared or even responded. She didn’t even care if Engineer was caught sneaking into the crime scene. And she didn’t care if she was arrested or not. Because any response or nonresponse at this point could be artfully twisted anyway she liked and mostly in her favor and the favor of the new bill. Everything was now a demonstration for the public and all they needed to see was that their system was broken, and she could be a very convincing actor. So she smiled, sending out two completely different messages at once each with a very specific audience in mind.

---

Exo was jogging up to the perimeter, delayed a few minutes by an obnoxious crowd of panicked civilians who were running in the opposite direction scared witless even though the bomb had already gone off and their panic was only making the attack more effective and lethal. Gluons, people were stupid sometimes. No, most of the time. 2/3rds of their lifespan to be exact and the rest of the time they’re just sleeping, dreaming stupid boring dreams about stupid boring people, in stupid boring places participating in stupid boring events like golf. Not surprising then that the IGIA consistently seemed to favor the same small group of people because they at least had some remnants of brains and sentience. Remnants because some of them technically didn’t have brains per-se, rather artificial mappings and simulations of brains, which Exo couldn’t really judge them on as the technique was a very effective way of avoiding any kind of permanent death, and unbeknownst to most, is what is used in a more complex form to generate people at the other end of the incineration chamber they oh-so-kindly like to call a teleporter.  Meaning, when we look at the statistics and crunch some numbers, the average person has, unbeknownst to themselves, died at least 8 times before they reach the age of 21 just by attending school field trips. After that it’s a matter career choice and finances.

The gif of the exploding child appeared in its field of vision just as an unfortunate officer informed it that it needed to show some ID or get lost, resulting in Exo glaring daggers at his modified google glass which he was currently using for the most productive purpose of surfing youtube  and uncyclopedia for ways to scam insurance companies into giving you money than any destroyed objects are worth, namely by committing arson and claiming it was your child playing with matches near an unfortunately uncapped gasoline tin. Poor sod probably didn’t know a reverse image of what he was watching was being projected onto the surface of the glasses. He should really invest in a neural chip.

“It was an antimatter explosion, lighting your house and possessions on fire will only look suspicious and quite frankly retarded seeing as the only thing that will be broken are your windows. If you live relatively close to the blast zone and if you’re windows are comprised of Class R or less materials, and, given your occupation I find that highly unlikely.”

The parameter control officer looked only slightly like he’d been dope slapped. “What? How did yo-“

Exo rolled it’s eyes dramatically and actually managed to look as if the question was personally insulting at the same time. Which, in a way it was.

“You’ve got a Uncyclopedia article superimposed on your pretend sunglasses, a youtube video to go along with it and you work in crowed control and possibly gang violence prevention. Insurance fraud = low finances , Uncyclopedia = low IQ. Parameter control = low job position, correlates with 1 and 2. Ignorance of the fact that google glass contains facial recognition software = mundane, repetitive job, lulled into an uncreative mode of just doing exactly what you’re told exactly as you’re told, with no critical thinking whatsoever. Low stress levels during a swarm of panicked people after a terrorist attack, plus your position at the closest point to the crowd and your job, when combined to all the factors listed above, indicate riot and crowd control, possibly a position in gang violence prevention and management. Thus, paranoia and actual threat of attack would make it statistically more likely that you’d have reinforced polymer or gorilla glass for windows because you’ve seen how well the conventional ones stand up against a group of enraged people. Buy a neural chip, tint your glasses a bit more in the meantime, use the facial recognition software in the left hand side of the browser and just hide your valuables in safe box or behind a false wall if you’re creative, and pay someone to ‘steal’ them. 77% of stolen items are never recovered so no one will be able to tell the difference so long as you make sure the person you’re paying off leaves fingerprints, not theirs, maybe a political figure because that’s always fun, and make sure to read everyone the riot act when your stuff tragically isn't recovered. Also you need to move out of the way. Investigating.”

The officer stepped dumbly out of the way, Exo immediately making a beeline for the blastzone, completely ignoring the perimeter guards belated demand that it visit the armor truck to receive appropriate gear.

So the facial recognition software currently did not take into account that a good portion of Acirians are completely identical in every way but personality and garb. Good to know.

Voxel was sprawled out in a transparent gelatinous lump on the grass, or, rather what was left of the grass, Hadron’s drone hovering a few feet away as its pilot attended to other matters. Myre was approaching the site when Exo jogged up behind him, the exploding toddler gif still playing on a loop in on the right side of its vision.

“I’m writing another letter to the IGIA informing them that their security is utter crap. I got by without an ID and the facial software doesn’t take into account that both me, Zalphar and a good number of other Acirians look completely identical which is a massive security hole seeing as almost all of them would have motive and means to pretend to be me and just strut around anywhere they want, restrictions be damned. ”

Engineer

Engineer turned around and a smirk spread across his face as he found a human woman (wait no, synthetic woman) aiming a pistol at his torso. Obviously she knew nothing about Acirians. He eyed the pistol, then her, and lastly the paralyzed officer. Obviously this woman had never met an Acirian before so he'd take it easy on her.

"Oh hello there." he said to her calmly "I apologize, madam, but I do not know what you ae referring to. I have never seen that officer before in my life. I strongly suggest that you immediately find and arrest the culprit who paralyzed the unfortunate fellow lest they strike again. However, if your conviction is firm that I am to be blamed for his unfortunate mishap, then fire away I implore you." Engineer spread his arms out wide and waited for her to take the bait. While Engineer usually sided himself with the "good guys", the lawful good police justice whores made him sick to his stomach. If he was shot, then she'd be put on a desk job for a few weeks while the government sorted out the assault of an Acirian man who doesn't exist in any official records. If he wasn't, then chaos would prevail to justice. This would be a fun standoff.

---

Now that Laina was okay, Pescus decided to try and get the situation a Poisson under control. Many people had poured out of the restaurant and onto the streets, where they now called their loved ones to make sure they were okay. Jeremy was one of them. Dorox went back to the bar and began to sweep up glass with a dustpan and broom. He didn't have any family in town to worry about. He was sure his friends would be fine.

"Your food's on the house, Laina." Pescus said "Everyone's is. Do you have any family around town?" Pescus himself began to worry about his own family. He took his phone from his belt and dialed his wife's number. While the phone rang he waited for Laina's answer.

Exo was about to go and examine the blob of inanimate jello that was Voxel while Myre took care of the bombers gift when it heard the unmistakeable electric whistle of a rail gun being fired somewhere within it's general vicinity and it had enough time to think So Agatha has an accomplice, how uncreative. before something impacted the back of its head, everything went black and it was thrown forward into the muddy mixture of glass, soil and pink goo of questionable origin, adding a rather large splash of blue blood and liquidized brains to the mix.

Agatha was the first to react, as she was unfortunately located just across from the location of the partially unearthed safe box, and got a first seat view of her target's head exploding in a spray of blue blood. Ah, lovely. Another color of gore to add to the pallet. And that wasn't even my doing. Seems there's coinciding agendas here, how very helpful. If she was officially released from custody within the next hour or so permanently getting rid of Exo would be as simple as injecting it with a Kamikaze protein or AChE inhibitor solution while it was still in it's regeneration phase. With a normally instantly fatal injury like the one it had just sustained, nobody except Myre, Hadron, Zalphar and maybe a few others would suspect or care about any potential foul play. Granted all three of them would make quite a fuss about the issue, Zalphar more or less behind the scenes, and combined would probably get a full blown high profile homicide investigation going, but Agatha could also make sure they found nothing or only enough to link the murder to the original sniper and thus their employer, if they had one. Exo had significantly more enemies than friends or even people on neutral terms with it, and this was just as likely to be a single individual acting alone, or a group of people acting together. Either way, they'd made the mistake of trying to kill it the standard way, which as they should have known, doesn't work, so they'd get blamed for it's death when she finished what they'd started.

Hmm... now how to make herself look completely and totally uninvolved without informing any more people than she had to of the fact that Exo hadn't been anything but killed instantly by the sniper.

Engineer knew, although it was also an Acirian so that was a given anyway. Jenny, maybe, maybe not. She was aiming a gun at Engineer so that wasn't altogether very likely. The two officers restraining her rather ineffectively (had she wanted to escape) probably didn't, although it was also entirely possible that they did, being in the force and all. So, just to play it safe, she wasn't going to say anything at all. Just plaster a convincing look of shock on her face momentarily, but not say or look shocked enough that Engineer would be tempted to inform everyone in the general vicinity that all Acirians can regenerate from crap like that and Oh look! A perfect example! No, she needed to avoid that if at all possible otherwise her poison plan would be ill-advisable at best, because another annoying problem with Acirians is their proclivity towards know-it-all declarations of information that no one typically cares or wants to know about. Did you know that Goblin Sharks launch their jaws up to 6 inches out of their mouths to grab into prey? Did you know that sea slugs can eat and poop out of both ends? Did you know that the average total decomposition rate of people today is 3 years thanks to preservatives? Did you know that the average person did not want to know any of these 'did you know' questions? Now that, I did know. Now kindly shut it.

See, no one wants that. Which is exactly why Acirians do it and do not get along with anyone unless they're a few nuts and a bolt short of complete too. So this should be easy, so long as she stays away from the informed or the insane.