Anthemia City

Willow slipped out of her bed early as she did every morning. She knew there was really no reason for her to get up so early in the mornings, especially since at the moment, she had no morning obligations. She could not help herself though. It was such a well ingrained habit from her childhood home in Terrasis that she did not even bother with an alarm. Her mind was it's own clock. Always making sure she rose before the sun was able to greet the east horizon and went to bed before the midnight darkness consumed the skies. Her grandparents were firm believers in in the old adage, Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

Being the stickler for routine that she was, Willow began her morning rituals. She moved through the motions systematically. Tucking in the edges of the comforter, she tidied up the small futon tucked away in the corner of her decent sized bedroom. Leaning down to the well worn blanket, she took a deep breath with her nose buried in the fabric. Searching for a hint of her home's scent. Nothing. She exhaled and pushed herself up from her knees. She was not totally sure why she tried. Their scent had long since faded away.

Willow raised her slender arms above her head and stretched. Throwing her head back she let out a wide-mouthed yawn. With a roll of her shoulders, she continued on schedule. Leaving her bedroom, she made her way into her small living room. Behind the modern grey suede couch on the opposite side from her sleek television, she kneeled once more on the wooden flooring. There, was the largest window in her entire dorm. It was where she had her indoor shrine in the midst of her small window garden.

Running her hands down her thighs she smoothed out her silk lavender night gown and then placed them flat on the cool wood panels. The tips of her index and middle fingers touched as well as her thumbs. Dutifully she bent over in a most humble bow. Her forehead on her knuckles and her nose to the ground. In a quiet, gentle whisper she began her daily prayers. Speaking fluently in the holy tongue of her religion.

"

Lel twa jomenti al...Fo letimu el tsah tjumeni jah hun mu...
...Lel twa sjah lenti al fo letico...Ol tah lementi al tsah jutenija.
Al fo letia leja al tash...A la rey yo, ya.
Lyttie..Tu-liatua ruecies Systina et-Freyia.
Renies teal dear siesty litea...Rushes."

That particular prayer was just a short recital of words. There were much longer ones that she knew, but she chose to stick with this one usually. Just to keep her mornings quick and efficient. It covered the basics. Thanking the one who reigned sovereign over the planet and it's inhabitants for giving her life and protecting her. Apologizing for any malevolent intent that might have seeped into her heart before and asking him to cleanse her. Promising to do her best to bring others to the light. All that religious stuff.

Rising from her subservient position, she got to her feet and examined the plants in her garden. With butterfly-like touches she ran her fingers over their leaves, stems and flowers. Cataloging the progress they were making. Smiling, she spoke to them softly. Whispering sweet nothings to them as if they were her significant other. In a way, they were. Willow regarded all plants and animals as beings with close attachments to her. They all had a life force in them keeping them going day after day, for all she knew they could feel the same way about her.

With one hand, she grasped her small trimmers and set to work. Some of their vines were wrapping around her small alter. That could not do. With one Snip and another, she put the blades down and admired her handiwork. Reaching for her watering can, she carefully and loving gave each a drink. Making sure not to drown them or give them too little. Willow glanced out of the window and spotted the sun just beginning to rise. Giving the sky a strange, but beautiful mish-mash of colors. She was right on time. The best time to water your plants was right before the sun rose. It stimulated faster root growth. Well, of course she did not need to go through that whole process like others might. After all she was quite skilled in the field of nature magick. With a single stroke she could make all of these flowers bloom even if they were not in season. But she did not. One, it was against the rules to use ones magick if not in critical need of them or given specific permission. And two, she enjoyed watching them grow on their own. With her gently nourishing them, nudging them forward like a mother. It gave her a sense of pride when they finally bloomed. Putting her watering can down, she gave them one last smile before getting ready for the day.

Getting ready always took her the most amount of time. Stepping into her spacious bathroom, Willow turned on the shower and let her gown fall from her body. Getting inside, she felt her muscles relax as the heated water pelted her bare skin. Quickly grabbing her soap, she began to cleanse herself. Starting with the top of her head and hair, she made her way down. Soon enough, she was rinsed and out, wrapped snugly in a towel. One for her body and another for her hair. She slipped into one of her usual simple dresses and wiggled her feet into some tall lace-up shoes. Pulling her towel from her head she let her pale lavender hair fall to her knees. As she braided it tightly, she pondered if she should get it hair cut. Biting her lip, she shook her head to herself. No. She was too sentimental for that.

Rummaging through her compact refrigerator, she found the leftovers she saved from the night before. Throwing it in the microwave for a minute she said a quick prayer over the food and sat down to eat. It was a small meal. A glass of water, two biscuits with a honey spread, but it was filling nonetheless. When she was finished, she cleaned her already spotless kitchen and prepared to go out for the day. She needed to find something to do before her afternoon classes. Willow slid her small ocarina onto her neck, her wooden staff onto her back, and messenger bag over her shoulder.

Though she did not have any morning classes (temporarily hopefully), she was not content to just wilt away in her dorm. Twisting the knob of her door, she entered the wide hallway.Waiting momentarily for the click of the dorm's automatic lock, she set forth. The low heels of her shoes seemed to clack unnaturally loud in the mostly empty halls.

Seeing the stainless steel of the elevator doors, coming together, she picked up the pace. "Ah, p-please hold the door!" She called out. A small hand shot out of the elevator and successfully delayed the doors. Willow slipped in smoothly. Brushing back a long bang that had fallen out of place, she smiled at the one beside her in gratitude and reached forward to press the button of her floor. Stopping short as she realized that it had already been pushed. "You heading to level two as well? Are you a medic, or just visiting the infirmary?"

The second level of the academy was mainly reserved for students whose primary class was being a medic. The floor held the infirmary and the health-based classes. Many medic students part-timed in the infirmary for experience. Which was actually what she was heading to do, but because she needed any extra experience.

The young girl beside her stared up at her and her maroon eyes widened in recognition. "Yeah! Uh, I am a medic. My first year here."

Willow raised her silvery eyebrows. "Mhmm?" She hummed. "Welcome. I hope you are enjoying Anthemia Academy. If there is anything I could help you with, please, do not hesitate to ask." The small student opened her mouth to say something, but the steel doors slid open silently, and she reconsidered.

"Of course Nurse Willow!" She agreed eagerly. Ducking her head, she excused herself and jogged in the opposite direction, towards her homeroom most likely. Willow stopped her politely waving and turned on her heel. Gliding across the pristine tile and passed the Bypass doorway into the infirmary. The smell of antiseptic hit her. Of course, now she was used to it and did not scrunch up her nose like some others.

She paused mid-stride as she a couple of figures caught her eye. She tilted her head curiously. "Willow, you're here." A raspy, but feminine voice called out. A blonde head of curly hair leaned over to peer at her past the metal body of an android. "Message." dutifully, the android turned around from its position facing the head nurse and stepped toward Willow.

The young medic immediately took a step back, but reluctantly forced herself to move back. Androids tended to unnerve her. With their lack of a life force and blank eyes. Yet, it what she did was undeniably rude. "Uskose, Willow. Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The stiff voice rang out.

Willow's eyes widened in amazement. She shook her head no hastily and the android exited without another word to either of the two ladies. The two stared at each other as grins lit their faces. "They must have gotten someone new! I can go back to class."

"Congrats. I told you it would be soon." Nurse Donovan laughed. "Go. Don't be late."

Willow did not need to be told twice. Racing out of the room, she jumped back into the elevator at the end of the hall. Pushing the button for the sixth floor, she attempted to reign in her emotions. As of the late, she really was beginning to believe that she was going to be let go. It had been three months since their homeroom teach passed. As a result she and others had no more missions assigned to them. It was rumored that they were going to be released from the academy.

She stepped off the elevator and swiftly walked towards the door. If she was released, what would she tell her family? Her father?

Room 2213. Here she was. Grasping the doorknob, she pushed open the door and opened her mouth to greet the new homeroom teacher. Only to finally take note of the overwhelming lack of people in the room. She froze and backtracked. Room 2213? She reread the numbers printed on the wood of the door. . . . This is it. Willow furrowed her brow and entered the class once more. The door fell closed behind her with a small click. Maybe I am early.

Hesitantly, Willow shuffled over to the desks and took a seat in the front row. When the teacher finally arrived, she wanted him, or her, to know that she was ready. Setting her staff on her right, and satchel on the ground, she waited for the others nervously. Hoping in the back of her mind that she had not gotten the information incorrect.

---

---

"Report to the research center in the West Wing." That was what they'd told her to do. She'd felt her heart sinking at these commands, as she'd been hoping that she'd finally get the chance to live in an ordinary dormitory environment, instead of a whitewashed lab with cameras watching her every move and coat-wearing researchers staring at her all day, governing every second of every day of her life. When she wasn't practicing her powers in their strict training regimen, she was undergoing new tests to explore the limits of her abilities, and exceed them - which usually just meant telling her to destroy randomly assigned targets in some chosen manner meant to force the usage of as many facets of her powers as possible. It was an exhausting, merciless routine that left her utterly burned out at the end of every day, with no freedom to do any of the things she enjoyed. Granted, those things were very few in number, and she probably wouldn't have known what to do with free time were she actually given any, but it was more the principle of the thing that irked her. "Just deal with it," they had said dismissively. "We need to remain close by to monitor your vitals at all times so you don't suffer the same fate as Subject 13. Too much money has been put into your creation for failure to be tolerated." Ah, Subject 13 - the Sword of Damocles they hung over her head at the slightest provocation. Having read the minds of her handlers, she had seen in full detail the gory fate suffered by her predecessor as her body crumbled and warped, bones snapping and turning to dust, eyes spewing blood as her skull collapsed in on itself as though an invisible hand had crumpled it like a wad of used tissue paper. That was the fate that awaited her, they said, if they were not hovering over her shoulder for 24 hours of every day of every week, monitoring her powers and "protecting" her from herself.

It was all hogwash, of course, mused the girl, brushing back some errant strands of her two-toned hair as she strode calmly through the main hall of her new school, the fluttering of her entourage's coat tails ringing in her ears as the scientists flanking her on either side continued leading the way to her new prison. The girl known as Lorelei had read the minds of her handlers extensively enough to know that her powers had not, nor would they ever advance to that volatile stage. Regardless, that didn't stop them from using that justification as an excuse to keep her on as tight a leash as possible, as though they thought she was too stupid to remember anything. Then again, in a way, maybe they were right about that. Who had she been, she wondered. Why had she ever agreed to sign her rights over to the researchers who now governed every aspect of her life? She was sure there had been some important reason, that she'd had no other choice. She just wished she could remember what that reason was. Maybe then, this tiring, ruthless tedium would seem a little less meaningless.

"Is that the NHP representative? She looks so young." Lorelei grimaced, gritting her teeth as the intrusive voice burrowed its way deep into her consciousness, countless others joining it as the students bustling about stopped to gawk at what they must have viewed as something of a novelty. Unfortunately, given her iconic appearance - as well as the insistence of her handlers upon escorting her as though she was some sort of dangerous prisoner - it was nigh impossible to avoid attracting attention. Even more unfortunately, the more attention she received, the harder she found it to extricate her own thoughts from those of the people around her.

"Look at her, just strolling in with her escorts like some sort of princess."

"I've seen her type before. She's probably a total bitch."

"'Next generation of humanity,' my ass. Just 'cause a lot of money's riding on her, she waltzes in here like she owns the place. We worked hard to get where we are, you know. Some no-talent fake human who thinks she's all that just because her creators' connections can get her anywhere has no place here. Go back to Leviathan, you arrogant slut."

"WHO SAID THAT?!" Snapping at last, she stopped suddenly, rounding upon where she thought the voice had been coming from as her hands clenched into fists. Her hair began to flutter wildly on an eldritch breeze as her narrowed eyes glowed with their own internal azure light, darting from one face to the next as she tried to find the source of the voice that had so insulted her. How dare they claim that she had done nothing to get where she was. She'd been fighting to survive each and every day of her life! But more than just that... she wasn't a fake! She knew she had once been a person. She had been a Human like them! She must have been!

"What the hell? Who does she think she's talking to?"

"Is she alright in the head?"

"What a total psychopath."

"Oi, NHP goons! Keep your bitch on a leash!" Shouted a voice from amidst the crowd, which was echoed by several more a moment later as mocking laughter resounded all around her...

---

Lorelei's eyes snapped open where she lay. That dream again. Well, less of a dream than a memory, she supposed, forcing herself up to a seated posture. She sighed, calming the lingering shame and anger that dwelt within her racing heart. She rubbed her eyes, staring into the blank whiteness of the featureless room surrounding her, its otherwise blinding color reduced to a mere dull gray by the deadened lights of the laboratory bedroom. Ever since she'd arrived, things had been largely the same. People either avoided her out of fear of interacting with a "lunatic," or mocked her between one another, either unaware of or unconcerned by the fact that she knew full well what they were saying. The voices were always so loud, each and every one of them either mocking or pitying her. It just made her want to scream, to throw their insults back in the faces of the ones who so smugly looked down upon her, as though she was something less than human. But it was pointless. The voices never stopped talking, never stopped insulting her - and she hated it.

She groaned, stretching her arms as she tried to shake off the stiffness that had overcome her body after spending the night atop the small white "bed" - more of a glorified, expandable couch, really - that provided her "room" - more of a glorified cell, really - with one of its two sole furnishings. Well, she supposed it could be worse. At least she had a bed, and that certainly beat spending her nights strapped to an operating table with electrodes probing her brain for the slightest hint of psychic activity, countless syringes full of sedatives ready and waiting to be pumped into her should her powers ever go out of control. Although she couldn't remember much about those terrifying nights, spent all alone in the darkness with her body aching and her thoughts a mess, it was probably for the best, as what she did recall made up a good portion of her nightmares. She supposed she'd been lucky to simply dream she was being humiliated, rather than experimented upon.

Crossing the tiny chamber in a few quick strides, her feet making naught but a faint shuffling against the frigid, infuriatingly pristine white floor, Lorelei idly swung open her wardrobe - the other bit of furnishing in her humble abode, a large, gaudy mahogany object which looked almost hilariously out of place against the monochromatic backdrop of the lab - and, reaching inside, withdrew her "uniform." Well, technically, just the black and cerulean tabard she wore and the tie that accompanied it were actually part of the apparel she'd been assigned by the NHP, while the long-sleeved black undershirt, matching opaque tights, and short, half-blouse, half-dress she wore were all her own personal additions to her attire. Placing all these things on her couch, she turned, slipping out of the flimsy, backless white nightgown she wore and casually throwing it across the room into a hamper in the side of the still-open wardrobe. Standing bare at the center of the small room, she turned, spreading her arms like a conductor, then sweeping them upward, the azure crystal that she'd taken out along with her uniform shattering outward into a large mass of floating water that washed over her in an instant, wrapping itself like a raiment around her and running over her form, precisely darting into each pore and clearing it in what was equal parts morning practice and self-grooming ritual - although she had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason she'd been allowed to use her magic to clean herself was because the surveillance team enjoyed the free show they got over the cameras. Ensuring that her aura of water covered her most important parts at all times from the angles at which her sixth sense helpfully reminded her the cameras were positioned, Lorelei concluded her little bath by purging all the water that still clung to her pale skin, running it up and through her hair, sending a two-toned cascade of raven and snowy tresses fluttering outward as though caught on a powerful breeze, before the water at last morphed back into its crystalline form, weaving itself back into her hair as she picked up the clothing she'd left on the couch. She was just about to set about getting dressed when the door snapped open with an audible hiss as the sealed environment of her room decompressed slightly - she still thought vacuum sealing the doors as a defense against any sort of germs contaminating her sleeping environment was a little excessive, but she supposed that her handlers couldn't afford their valuable test subject catching cold if they could help it.

Turning to face the intruder, Lorelei almost forgot to conceal her scowl as her eyes met those of Dr. Bessiger, the right hand man to the chairman of the NHP, and her personal handler and commanding officer. He was a tall man, and surprisingly young for an individual of his status and expertise. He possessed a heavily built, sturdy physique that suggested he'd probably done his fair share of physical activities in the past, which, when combined with his formidable height, gave him a very imposing stature that most people couldn't help but be cowed by. His blonde hair was short, cut very methodically around his eyes and ears, and trimmed with the same obsessive zeal along the back of his neck, while his midnight blue eyes gazed coldly over the top of his spectacles. From the precise crease in each leg of his slacks to the pristine, dark gray suit he wore, he was the perfect image of order. Lorelei forced back the bile that crept its way into her throat as this man, her eternal tormentor, stepped calmly into the room, his eyes sweeping over her naked body with all the interest one might have expected someone to show some small, insignificant animal's carcass. In his expression alone, he made it abundantly clear that he, unlike the watchers on the 24 hour cameras she lived with, didn't view her as a fellow Human being, even if only in the sense of a slave to be leered at. To him, she was nothing but a tool.

"Good," he said coldly. "You're awake."

"Didn't your parents ever teach you how to knock?" Lorelei wanted to say, but stifled herself out of fear, simply turning herself about, standing rigidly at attention, and placing her right hand over her heart in salute - a gesture which, fortunately, had the side effect of covering her sensitive regions with the clothing still draped over her arm. "Yes, master," She replied dutifully, her voice cold and stoic as she tried her hardest not to spit the hateful word by which she was forced to refer to him, her maker - and her unmaker, should she ever set a single foot out of line. This was the man who controlled her very fate, and if she did not remember that and show him the utmost respect and humility, the things he could have done to her would make being devoured by Daemons seem merciful by comparison.

Dr. Bessiger gave a self-assured half-smirk, stopping in front of her and reaching out a hand, placing two fingers upon her chin and slowly, forcefully raising it by several degrees. Lorelei winced as she fought back the impulse to lash out at him, to release her powers and fling him away, his very touch sending chills down her spine of a sort far colder than the brisk air of the lab against her bare flesh. Her azure eyes reluctantly rose as she looked up - or perhaps the matter of note was that he had deigned to look down on her? - meeting the midnight blue gaze of her handler, her creator, her owner, the man who held everything she was in the palm of his hand, and who would shape her, like a dollmaker might give form to a doll, in whatever way he pleased. Lorelei hated those eyes, loathed them with every fiber of her being, despised the way they seemed to pierce like daggers through her, dismantling her and laying her bare before them, her individuality stripped away by their cold awareness as her very self was reduced to mere data, reflected in the eyes of that terrifying man who held absolute power over everything she had been, was, and ever would be.

"Look me in the eye when you speak," Ordered the doctor, his voice that of a disapproving father to a petulant child, commanding the respect of his rude and arrogant creation.

"Yes, master," Lorelei repeated obediently, her words utterly void of any of the feelings or emotions whirling through her terrified brain, containing nothing save the blind respect and acceptance that the doctor demanded. She was barely able to muster even this sort of empty, mechanical speech, her breath nearly choking in her throat as she spoke the words she so hated for a second time, her eyes unable to escape the gaze of those horrible blue orbs that dominated her vision, staring down at her with soul-crushing intensity. Finally, as suddenly as he had forced her to meet it, the man broke off his gaze, giving a self-satisfied nod to himself as he released her chin and turned, walking casually to the opposite edge of the room, shutting the still-open door of her wardrobe as he passed it out of obsessive-compulsive fervor. Lorelei gave a silent gasp of relief, sucking in the breath that had been stolen from her when those eyes had met her own.

He had to be there for a reason. The doctor never interacted with her so personally unless he had something he wanted her to do. The sooner she could figure out what exactly that thing was, the sooner he might leave her in peace, the sooner she might escape from his hateful presence, even if only temporarily. And so, her words still devoid of any feeling save obedience, she spoke.

"What is it that you wish of this unit, master? I will obey," She said humbly, making sure to avoid speaking with any pretense of humanity before this man who refused to accept her as such.

"Well, aren't we eager?" Laughed the doctor quietly. There was nothing outwardly malevolent about his laugh. Unlike the cackling villains in cliche films, his mirth was expressed in a thoroughly ordinary, perhaps even understated manner. But to Lorelei, that only made it all the more terrifying, as it presented the possibility that this man was really nothing but an ordinary person doing his job; a job that just so happened to entail commanding her very destiny, and crushing it beneath his boot heel if such measures became necessary. "In that case, I'll cut right to the chase. You've been reassigned," Said the doctor gravely.

The experiment's eyes widened as her mind processed these words. Reassigned? Ever since her little meltdown in the main hall of the academy, the NHP had deemed her unfit to risk mental contamination from interacting with others. As a result, she'd ended up spending most of her time in the lab running tests like always, aside from a few very rare occasions on which she'd been allowed to attend training missions with the other students - although naturally, she was kept separate from them. She'd never actually been part of a major operation, nor had she participated in actual combat against a wild, powerful Daemon. The closest she came to having real battle experience was fighting some of the captured Daemons brought to Leviathan for training purposes, or those used as test opponents at the academy. And, although she supposed any battle where you ran a risk of dying couldn't exactly be called anything but "real," she couldn't deny that all of them had been very weak opponents. Yet, despite those misgivings, she couldn't help but be overjoyed at this news. If she was finally being reassigned, then that would mean her first chance to actually perform the duties for which she'd been created, and to destroy the Daemonic invaders. Forgetting her fear for a moment, she gave a smile of surprise - yet this soon collapsed when she remembered what else being assigned to a group would mean - she'd have to work with her peers, most of whom at the very least knew her, and, more often than not, either thought she was insane or simply despised her for the special treatment she received. Her expression of delight swiftly turned to a grimace. Still, she supposed, it would be better than staying here in the lab, where this man had absolute command of every aspect of her life. Besides, she'd long since learned to stop hoping for anything she knew she wouldn't get, so there was no sense in getting worked up over it. She would simply fulfill her duties. Then, at least, she would be blameless, even in the eyes of the peers who so looked down on her. "When shall I begin training?" She asked quietly.

"You aren't going to be training," Replied Bessiger, shaking his head as he turned to face her, a serious look in his eyes. "The military has recently suffered several catastrophic defeats at the hands of the Daemons. Casualties are at an all-time high, and they need everyone they can get. In this time of crisis, the Director has decided to accelerate our plans to prove our research's worth. As our most successful specimen, the duty to prove that our New Humans are practical weapons on the battlefield falls upon your head." Lorelei couldn't restrain herself from giving a gasp of surprise at this. Regardless of her ability level, the fact of the matter was that she simply wasn't experienced enough to know her way around a real combat zone. Throwing her straight into the thick of all-out war seemed patently absurd. The researchers did need her alive to continue gathering data, right? Or was this just some ill-conceived attempt to get rid of her?

"With all due respect, master, I do not believe that this unit is fit to serve alongside regular military forces," She said quietly, offering what little protest she could without seeming insubordinate. The doctor gave a mirthless smile and shook his head.

"Neither do I," He said bluntly, seeming quite disappointed that he had to agree with the property whose willful opinions he so despised. "However, the Director has already made up his mind. The NHP is standing on the brink of either a breakthrough or total collapse. If you can't prove the project's merits, then it's likely that Mobile Testing Division 17 will be dissolved immediately, along with the rest of the project." This might have sounded nice on the surface - since being released from service would mean that the NHP no longer owned her - but were such a thing to happen, what, exactly, would she do then? She had no knowledge of how to survive in the outside world save by fighting, nor did she have any means of providing for herself. Without the NHP, her death was almost guaranteed. "Regardless, you'll still be kept segregated from most of the regular military. Mobile Division 17 will accompany you on your missions in order to monitor your psychic emissions and ensure that, if possible, your abilities remain stable. You will, however, be assigned to a group of conscripted students. This was the only way we were able to secure your position. Consequently, I want you to be on your best behavior." Bessiger gave her a frightful glare as he issued his ultimatum. "You will obey whatever orders you are given without question, and will avoid mingling with the students in any capacity save as an accessory to their outfit. If I hear any more reports of you snapping, I'm pulling you from the unit and sending you back to headquarters for retraining and replacement. Do you understand?"

Lorelei gave a numb nod. She'd probably have been more terrified of his threat - "Retraining" essentially amounted to having her memories stripped of her, along with parts of her soul, until her personality returned to a blank, malleable slate - if she hadn't planned on avoiding contact with the other students as much as possible regardless. Reading the minds of those who loathed her wasn't exactly pleasant, after all. Either way, it was clear she had no choice in the matter - a fact which she was used to - so she simply accepted his commands and obeyed. It was easier that way, even if the prospect of not only fighting Daemons, but also struggling with the hatred of her peers, was far from pleasant to her. Anything seemed worthwhile if it would help her break away from the pressure of that man's horrible eyes. "I hear and obey, master. This unit will accomplish the mission it has been assigned," She recited dutifully.

"Very good. Then we should have no problems." There was a certain menace to these words, as though appended with the unspoken afterthought of, "But if there are, I'll make sure you regret it." Lorelei nodded once again, maintaining her salute even as Bessiger turned to leave. "Once you're prepared, report to room 2-2-1-3 on the sixth floor in one hour's time. There will be a military official waiting there to receive the students selected for conscription. Find the unit you've been assigned to, and then keep yourself out of trouble from then on. That is all," He said over his shoulder. Rounding on the door with those final words, the Doctor left just as suddenly as he had entered, and her room sealed itself once again in his wake. She sighed, too flustered by her fear, confusion, anxiety, and anticipation to care about the cameras watching her as she set about dressing herself, slipping into the sleeves of her undershirt and blouse before fastening on her tabard and pulling on her customary pair of tights. Brushing back her hair, she snapped shut the bindings on her shoes, and turned for the door. This was it. This was the day she'd been waiting for: a second chance to prove herself in the eyes of her peers, and an opportunity to finally put the abilities she'd been given to good use. Even if it meant risking death, above all else, she wanted to show the world, to show herself, that she, Lorelei, was a person whose existence was worthwhile. She wanted to know for sure that there really was something good, something worthy. She wanted to be sure that she could do to differentiate herself from the selfish, greedy human filth that surrounded her, and thus validate the listless, purposeless life she lived, just following the doctrines that were force fed her by her superiors.

And so, mastering her dread at the thought of the battles ahead and the countless mocking voices that awaited her, she opened the door, and stepped into a world that was much broader than she, one who had lived her life trapped within a cage, ever could have known...

Crash! Crunch! "2-2-'BZZZRT-1-3" Zap, Crunch.

A cacophony of metallic crushing and electronic buzzing sounds just barely reached Joe through the haze of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight burning as it met with his vision. After a few moments Joe found himself where he last left himself going to bed last night: A bench out on school grounds, Frank wrapped around his area. His summon, a rather significantly large trash dragon named Frank, had just swatted a robot who had made the time old mistake of walking up to a dragon without loudly announcing itself. Then again, to the untrained optic sensor his dragon looked like little more than a trash heap when prone.

"Ah heck. They're probably gonna charge me fer that." Joe shrugged. "Ah well, don't matter none too much.
Never had much a need for money. Just means I'm gonna need ta find some meals fer a bit." Lazily he picked himself off the bench and stretched. The remains of the robot were pulled into Frank. The pieces that weren't completely crushed into slag in the first hit were ground into pure junk by the shifting wood, steel and stone that comprised of it's body. Raising it's head Frank was about the size of a small warehouse in both height at the shoulder and length from nose to tail tip. With the robot slag pulled into it it was now at the cusp of it's maximum mass limit. It was not an inconsiderable creature but Joe felt it could use to be bigger, something he hoped he would figure out how to do at this school.


Despite having had barely woken up Joe recalled the numbers the flattened robot blurted out in it's last moments.
"That somethin' was probably somethin' important. I'd better do some sleuthin'." He concluded, walking on his way to find something corresponding with the numbers. Given their arrangement they seemed to relate closest to room numbers. Either that or it was a phone number it didn't get to finish. He'd find out soon enough.

Joe hadn't had any missions since the last teacher died and quite frankly he didn't mind all that much. The free time gave him plenty of peace and quiet but there was always those rumors that buzzed around about inactive students getting booted. He wasn't really scared of that but getting tossed out would be inconvenient. He wanted to find out as much as he needed to know from this place before ditching it like his last place and taking to the road.


When he got to the entrance to the building he looked up to Frank. The dragon's face was expressionless as it was just a bunch of garbage arranged into a dragon shaped head but he could still tell it wasn't happy with him going somewhere it couldn't fit.
It was just a knack Joe picked up after all these years of living with Frank.
"Look buddy, I swear I'm not going to be too far out of reach. I think the room probably has a window you can look through.
I'll call 'ya over when I find it alright? Try not to wreck anything alright?" He reassured Frank. The dragon sat down and simply waited, a clear enough signal for Joe to go through with it.

Eventually he found the door with the number the robot had blurted out in it's death throes. "Well, hope I ain't wrong here." He spoke mostly to himself as he pushed his way in through the door. Inside this mostly empty room were a couple people he'd seen around on occasion. He rarely cared about the faces that pass him by on a daily basis but he was observant and his memory served him well. None of these people were teachers of any sort however which left him rather confused.
Why'd they send me the invitation this early? Is this even the room I'm supposed to be at?


Left with more questions than answers he just sort of stood at the doorway looking in quite unsure of whether this location was the one he was supposed to be at or what. "Anyone else get this room number from a robot?" He asked everyone with the very thin hope that someone would know what was going on or something close to that effect. He didn't expect anyone here to know what he was going on about but he had no better ideas for how he was going to find out what those numbers the robot spouted out were about.

Sleeping in a garden of blue roses seemed to be an unusual thing to do. But not for Robin Grey, one of the more unique of scholars. He came from Anima like most scholars but refused to be on the valedictorian, or even listen to politics. His Father, an Airship Captain Who's Townhouse he willingly gave Damian after he became nineteen, on a rental fee, the amount of which changeable as the Captain saw fit, had instilled the boy with distrust of the leaders of Anima.

But that was life, and life never became free without some earning done. The young man slowly opened his tired eyes and yawned as he got up off his small garden room. He had overworked himself, yet again, growing his lovely blue roses. No one knows why, for possible spare money or for the enjoyment, or both, as he is seen trying to sell some for some extra money. Walking out of this room he passed his bedroom and then his workroom, where he toils and tinkers trying to make new creations. From New hunter weapons to small gadgets, to even the occasional children's trinket, he would try to make it.

Stuck in his routine, he would put together a field bag for possible missions to be prepared for. Inside consisted of the following, one combat suit made by Robert Damian Grey, Patent pending, Soulfire, his two handed broadsword given to him by his Mother and Father on his enrollment to the academy at 15, and a few emergency food rations for those required occasions. It was all routine for him. Any break in this routine would slightly result in a disastrous reaction on his part, albeit contained inward as he tries to not show anyone his suffering.

Speaking of breaks in his routine, it had been awhile since his home room teacher died, and he himself was not sent on a mission. This worried him. How would he face his father, whose portrait stares with one dark brown eye darting outward towards the front door, if he were kicked out? Then there was a knock at the door.

"I hope it's good news or at least a visitor." Robin stated to himself as he walked to the door and opened it. It was one of the Academy's Service Droids. Surprise, he was about to be told something about his current status as a student.

"Grey, Robert Damian, Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report thereduring your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?"

"No that'll be all. You may leave now." was all he could say to the robot as he hurried and grabbed his field bag and then his school bag before hurrying past the droid.

Fifteen minutes later, he was running through the halls, hurrying to get to class on time. Up the flight of stairs he took a breather on the third floor for a few minutes before continuing upwards. Walking through the hallways, he searched for the room number. Robin finally found it and noticed someone with goggles walking in. "Wasn't he in my old Homeroom? I wonder if Willow and Duran are there too??

He didn't hesitate to walk into the classroom and noticed the three people already there. One of which nearly made him fall over on his back. Willow Ukose, one of the best medics in the school, and one of his good friends in the academy. Her beauty was unmatched in Robin's eyes. Not many other people were here other then the man with the goggles and the strange two colored haired woman. He assumed it was still early enough.

Not hesitating further he sat he walked towards a desk, which was somewhat behind Willow, so as he walked past her he gave her a small, soft smile. "Morning, Willow. Lovely day right?" as he sat in the desk, setting his field bag down he slapped himself mentally as his cheeks turned pink for a moment or two before resuming its pale color to match his skin.

"Smooth Robin, haven't seen one of your best friends since our teacher died, and the first thing you say is 'nice day'??"

---

It was already early morning when Cuddy found himself wandering aimless about the academy, something of a regular habit sometimes when left with little to do in these early rises. Even from the moment he opened his eyes the boy was always pumped and ready to jump into something, those as of late the days were requiring less and less from him as time dragged along. The homeroom teacher’s death had really put a dent into his progress at the place, and most of the young people found themselves left with nothing to do in the meantime. But, regardless of that fact, Cuddy could always be found somewhere, messing with something or another just for the sake of fun!

He was making his way to nowhere in particular when a sudden voice erupted behind him, causing the boy to jump off the ground and dart round somewhat defensively. The sudden spring to the air caused his bag to fall from his back, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. It’s contents were unknown to most, however whatever lay within it was likely relate-able to supplies and equipment needed by the medic. With one hand raised, the other was projected forward and held his staff out towards the being, soon revealed to be one of the androids.

"Vann, Cuddy. Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The android stated to the boy in its usual empty voice, lacking all tone and emotion as it replayed its message to the indented recipient. Its bright-eyed companion merely dropped his head to the side, pursing his amused lips together with a raised eyebrow.

”Ahhh… I think I’m good Mr. Bot’! I'll be sure to hunt you down otherwise, haha.” He confirmed with a nod, heaving up his backpack from the ground beneath the figures, before the small robot took its leave and left the boy to his thoughts. Not wasting much time the lad turned on his heel and headed down the hallway at a leisurely pace, not feeling a need to throw himself headfirst down the path as usual. His laid-back nature would have suggested sheer obliviousness to the good news that had been dealt to him, but Cuddy figured he’d get into the swing of merry cheers soon enough once managing to find the room. Plus, not dragging up the old memory of their homeroom teachers death was something he tried to get into habit, as death was such a downer of things to keep on one’s mind, so why persist with it?

Hoping to not get lost, the youth followed the signs plastered across the ends of walls and attempted to guide himself to the correct location. Soon enough, he believed, the boy in time found himself standing before the classroom that was designated for him. Propping the door open just slightly, he pushed the thing open with the end of his foot and took a wide step into the room. Right away the first thing to enter his field of vision was the back of some boy, seemingly a bit familiar. ”Whoa, excuse me dude, Medic coming through an’ all. Guess this is the place?”

Joking slightly, Cuddy sidestepped round the individual who stood by the doorway. Giving the boy a quick wink of amusement and saying little else to him, Cuddy continued on further into the room and quickly took note of the faces already present. He recognized them and knew them, some more than others perhaps. Giving a shrug he didn’t press the thoughts further and felt that taking a seat was his top priority at that point, which was what he did in the next passing minutes. Settling himself mid-way through the classroom the boy sat, sitting his bag under the desk and sliding his staff between his legs and having it leaning at an angle, trying to avoid it sticking out and poking others who passed.

”Looks like the party is filling up, eh?” He said with his usual upbeat-ness, though really it was to no one in particular. The boy was just so raring to go that he’d talk to anyone, even himself. Which wasn't that uncommon. ”Least I got the right room, heh.”

---

---

For the first time in a while, the thought came to him again.

“Well, these things happen.”

Months had passed, and Lev still couldn’t think of anything more than that apathetic phrase when the image of their former teacher, killed in a mission, appeared in his mind. Admittedly, this somewhat worried him.

It had been the first time in his life a person close to him – at least in the sense that they saw each other almost every day – was taken by Daemons and, contrary to what he had initially expected, it didn’t affect him that much. It did take him by surprise when he heard the news and even got him wondering how such a tragedy could have occurred to a Huntress he had always perceived as careful and reliable, but minutes later he was more preoccupied with how he would face his numerous fees with the limited budget he received from the Academy and the following weekend he hadn’t spared a single second of thought on her.

He didn’t appear to be the only one though. Fellow Hunters seemed at a loss during the week when she died, wondering if the incident had occurred due to a malfunction, a mistake or an irregularity of a different sort, but eventually people ran out of curiosity on the matter and it was as good as settled. It made sense; they were at war and even if they didn’t have access to the exact numbers as they were still in training, students in the Academy could figure out many men and women died each day. Daemons didn’t rest or mourn, and there was no noticeable sign that their numbers were decreasing, so how could humanity spare time and resources for those who had fallen?

Still, this woman had shared wisdom with those who would become the next generation of humanity’s vanguard against Daemons to ensure its survival in the future, and in her spare time joined Hunters in the field to fight like a soldier. There was no way that such a lifestyle had left her any time to form a family of her own or pursue any ambitions. Almost her entire life, from late childhood to death, had been sacrificed to fight for humanity, which was more than the overwhelming majority of people could say, and still it was most likely that a decade from now no one would remember her face or even her name. No; that was a privilege that was saved only for those who knew when to die, made beautiful speeches to earn a cozy seat in one of the major cities’ government or, even better, were willing to print their faces on pop magazines so that a new generation of teenagers could grow up with propaganda-fueled dreams of unrealistic glory.

But “these things happen” indeed.

Maybe what bothered Lev was the acknowledgement that, as selfish and despicable as this society that ignored the genuine devotion of a brave woman resulted to him, he would still prove exactly the same as them.

Perhaps, despite his attempts to convince himself that he was fighting for mankind and not for himself, he was scared of facing the fact that his efforts would still make him no more than a nameless soldier in history at most.

Or maybe he had too much free time to spend thinking on pointless trails of thought.

“OI! OI LEV! FUCKING OI!”

Suddenly, the surrounding background he had been pushing back in his mind brusquely recovered its colors and life; the sound of heavy machinery at work and raspy voices of middle-aged men and women screaming obscenities at each other echoed in his eardrums again and demanded his attention, prompting him to wonder how he had been able to space out in the first place. He sought the voice that called his name through the framed visor of his face shield and soon spotted a short-haired and generously bearded man he recognized as Gene, one of the more experienced workers and student supervisors.

“Sum n’droid ‘ere s’got a messige for ya or sumthin’. It’s in da way, so go lissen to it so it leaves awlready!” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation or the fact that he was in a hurry.

Lev freed one of his hands to signal an ‘ok’ to his boss, who spat out a few more curses directed at no one in particular before walking a few steps back and resuming his conversation with two men dressed in military uniforms.

Putting his tools away, Lev made his way to the entrance of the Academy’s arsenal, where he had been spending all his mornings for the past few months. All Scholar students in their last obligatory year were required to complete a certain amount of hours of actual work in their discipline, among other tasks, and seeing as he already visited the arsenal with some frequency, it was no surprise he ended up resorting to it to complete his academic duties. He had actually fulfilled this requirement some time ago, but since he had no morning classes ever since the death of his home room teacher, he preferred spending his time there helping with the avalanche of work the mechanics found themselves underneath of due to the increased frequency of Hunter deployments.

Every single day there were new jeeps, tanks, boats, swords, guns, androids and ammunition to repair, upgrade or manufacture, and they were always running late. Able hands were never missing and there were no restrictions on going over the minimum service hours, so Lev’s presence was always welcomed and appreciated. Besides, this way he got to see all sorts of newly developed machinery, and even if he wasn’t allowed to actually work on the most expensive ones, it was nice getting a closer look at them.

He opened the entrance door and, sure enough, an android waited with infinite patience on the other side. Standing uncomfortably close to Lev, it seemed to instantly identify him.

“Keisting, Lev. Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?”

Expecting a less relevant message, it took the young man a few seconds to process what he had heard. He checked his ancient wristwatch and briefly wondered why he would be notified in such a short notice of his new schedule, but figured his intercom, which he had left in the locker room, would be filled with warnings of failed attempts to communicate with him a while ago.

“No, you can go.” He finally answered the android’s question as he remembered it was still waiting for his response without the slightest sign of apprehension, and instantly closed the door on it. The last ad Lev had heard consisted on a jingle with choreography included, which only made him feel ashamed on the robot’s behalf. Besides, some of the mechanics in the armory had taken to vandalizing the robots as a way to express their discontent when they showed up merely to promote their commercial, and if any of them saw it, it could only mean trouble for everyone.

He barely had any time to waste, so quickly deciding to spring into action, he removed the protective gloves from his hands, saved them in his pocket and made his way towards Gene to tell him of the sudden change. The thought of no longer spending his mornings in the armory looking at broken engines and deteriorating weapons while listening to the mechanic team’s ramblings was somewhat saddening to him, but it wasn’t what he had left Leviathan for, so he much favored the idea of going back to his old routine. A subtle feeling of anticipation filled him as he felt his life finally awakened from a much too long stasis period.

As Gene entered his range of sight, Lev noticed that he was still accompanied by the two men of the military from before, and the conversation seemed to have evolved into a full-on discussion. The clanking and electrical sounds of the background made it impossible to discern the subject of their argument, but it didn’t take any sound to tell neither party seemed to be happy about it. Despite the fact that the three were talking at the same time, the two newcomers did seem to keep a certain level of composure, maintaining their rigid postures and moderating their hand gestures, but Gene seemed to operate on the thought that louder and angrier meant he ‘won’ the discussion. Rising above the other voices, a barrage of relentless uses of the word ‘fuck’ reached Lev’s ears as the distance between him and the jolly group shortened.

“…fuck that! I’m tellin’ ya I know whatta fuckin’ deadline was! Fundin’s goin’ to them fuckin’ new weapons we ain’t getting’ any new equipment; ‘tis as fast as it can go! Motor’s still busted so nless yer destination’s tha mouth of a fuckin’ Daemon get the…”, Gene’s rambling would have remained at a constant pace of ten words per second if he hadn’t been interrupted by the two men’s distracted stares and sudden silence at the arrival of Lev.

With a face completely red from working his lungs to inhuman limits, Gene turned his face towards the Hunter in training. He said no words, but his expression screamed that hell would break loose if there wasn’t a good reason for the interruption. Ignoring by his wordless threat, Lev simply pointed in the direction of the exit with his thumb, to which Gene replied with a dismissive nod and, seeing the matter settled at that, went back on the attack on the two soldiers.

As intimidating as the veteran mechanic was, Lev had found after many unpleasant encounters that there was a formula to addressing him: keep things short and simple and he won’t have time to get mad at you. He proved to be a nice guy when you followed it. Mostly.

Merely ten minutes later, Lev had already made his way towards his room, showered and changed into the first set of normal clothes he could get his hands on. Fighting the mountain of broken machinery occupying the vast majority of space in his room, he went through the door and went on his way towards room 2213. It would come as a surprise to many given his seclusion to the armory and personal chamber, but Lev was very familiar with the academy’s grounds, and it didn’t take long at all for him to find the right set of stairs.

While passing by the second floor, he noticed another group of people dressed in military uniforms, but unlike the ones he had seen before, these ones were talking amongst themselves, looking over several documents with grim looks. Lev’s expression darkened for a second as he continued his way upwards without interrupting them; he had nothing against the military, but he hadn’t failed to notice that their presence in the Academy grounds had become disturbingly common. Usually, the army showed little interest in the Academy’s workings, being more concerned with the end results than the actual training of the Hunters. When they showed themselves around there, it was normally to supervise the development of new technology that could serve some purpose to them or when trainees finished their last year in Anthemia to recruit them, and even then only small groups would be sent. None of these situations applied in the present and it was hard to argue against the fact that they were sending an implicit message to the citizens of Anthemia, and it was not a very hopeful one.

As he finished that trail of thought, he found himself facing the door he was looking for. With no particular interest in staling, Lev went through it to meet his new routine with open arms. He was expecting the room to be filled with the conversations of all his colleagues catching up and sharing stories, but apparently he wasn’t as late as he thought, as there were only five of them including himself. The Robin fellow was talking with the Terrasian girl, Cuddy sat at the very center of the room, unsure of where to direct his unending need of conversation other than himself, and Joseph, like Lev, seemed to have just made his way through the door. The front desk where he expected to meet their new instructor was empty, which considering the lack of professionalism, didn’t send any good vibrations his way.

“Morning”, he greeted the room unenthusiastically as he made his way towards one of the seats at the back of the room. Perhaps it was simply the lack of sound and movement drowning his surroundings, but as he sat silently and looked at the entirety of the half-empty classroom, a faint feeling of uneasiness took over him.

---

“Ledford, Duran. Your homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?”

“Why yes...” Duran groaned. “Why don't they program you pieces of junk to knock?”

The little android had charged into Duran's room without warning, which had caused the young man to jump up and fall from his chair. With a bump and his notebook on his head, Duran's expression was nothing but sour. Not only had he hurt his head, he'd fallen into a pile of paper and spilled ink all over them. It would take hours before he could organise, fix and rewrite them to put in his archive.

“Invalid request. Please repeat your inquiry.”

Duran buried his face in the palm of his hand. “Go, go. You trash heap” He sighed, not wanting to bother with the tiny machine. Nothing ever worked out with that sort of technology. He'd just have to face the music later today and do it himself. To his displeasure, Duran had somewhere else to be right now. Oh how he hated to leave a mess like this. Especially when- Wait, did that droid just roller derby through all his papers! The little junkyard on wheels skated straight through the mess it had made! “Get back here!” Duran shouted, as he lunged forward to grab the machine by it's head. Duran's fingers clenched around the android, and the slayer reeled back his arm to pull it up... But he'd pulled so hard it's head came off! The little body sparked and went crazy, bumping into wall after wall, until it fell on it's side and simply spun in circles.

“You have got to be kidding me...” Duran complained, as he picked up the body in his other hand... He had no time for this. His presence was requested, and so Duran, one piece of android in each hand, begrudgingly made his way to room 2213.

“This better be important.” Duran snorted as he entered his new homeroom. Few of the students (his classmates, to be precise) had already arrived, and he had half a mind to toss the chunks of metal towards one of the available scholars. Seeing how the room was eerily quiet, Duran would also have asked who died in here. Though fortunately he could manage to keep his mouth shut, as the answer to that was fairly obvious.

“Oh and I've got two pieces of trouble here with me. Anyone who could take these of my hands would be more than welcome to.”

The young medic fiddled with the frayed ends of her dress' sleeves. Twisting the loose thread around her finger and releasing it. She sighed. She needed to mend the dress. Again. Or better yet just get rid it. But the idea was not. . . Preferred. True she had had the dress for quite awhile now. Actually, it was the first one she bought in the city. Maybe she was overly attached. Was this a warning sign of being a hoarder?

Being consumed in her internal debate about whether or not to keep her-- arguably favorite --dress, she only faintly registered the classroom door opening. Only when the deep voice of another student cut through the silence did she look up, startled slightly. Navy blue eyes stared into the dark tinted goggles. Doing her best to place the male's face in her mind. 'Joe?' Her mind suggested. 'Joe. Frank?' She turned her head to scan the windows for the Joe's more memorable half, before remembering that he had in fact asked her a question.

"Yes. This is our new homeroom I believe. . ." Willow trailed of uncertainly. Not being able to see his eyes had always disconcerted her to some extent. "They gave us the message early most likely."

She peeled her eyes away from him as another slid into the classroom. Immediately, she lit up. Trailing her friend as he came to take a seat behind her. Twisting her slender body and propping her elbows up on the top rail of her chair, she smiled brightly at Robin. "Quite." She agreed easily. "I have not seen you in what feels like forever. How have you been?" Willow tilted her head, examining his features. After all, she had not even had a glimpse of him for maybe three months. He looked well, which was good. She had hoped he was not pushing himself.

Around them a few others began to trickle in. She cast whoever she made eye contact with, a good-natured smile.
In the corner of her mind she wondered what was going on. Where was their new teacher?

A familiar, fruity voice rang out from the entrance of the homeroom. Accustomed to the pleasantly strong and confident sound, Willow turned her head back around to face who she knew would be Duran. Though, her smile swiftly faded as her eyes widened in shock. She shut her eyes briefly in disbelief as the boy tossed the torn body of an android haphazardly. 'How? . . But why? . . . But school property!'

He stood aside as a number of the other students started filing in. He ignored most of the comments from a majority of the people who entered, giving a nod only really to Lev as he bid everyone morning. When Willow informed him that he was correct to assume that this room was the room he was looking for he nodded to her, indicating that he was listening and understood.

In short order he made his way over to one of the windows before pulling one of them open to stick his head out. "Hey Frank! Over here!" He called out across the green open vista. In the classroom as well as in many neighboring rooms a shudder could be felt through their part of the building as Frank started lumbering over towards Joe's voice. Tremors shook the room with each massive step it made. At the apex of the rumbling it stopped, Frank's head looming by the window where Joe waited.


"There we go, See? I wasn't that long." He comforted Frank. There was no reaction from Frank save for a long stare from the faceless wall of metal and rubber that was it's face. Taking seat at a desk right beside the open window Joe looked about the room as every one of his former class mates went about the usual routine with class. There was still little to no sign of a teacher as he looked back over to the doorway. "I don't know whats up but somethin's holdin' up the teacher." He casually spoke to Frank despite the conversation being largely one sided.

He saw Duran come in looking gaudy as ever holding two parts of what used to be a functioning droid. It was funny in that it wasn't the first droid broken that day. It seemed like every other day those odd robotic butler robots were getting trashed somehow, the dangers of being messengers in a school full of youngsters wielding powerful weapons capable of ending many lives during the most awkward years of their lives. That was probably why the military tended to have such a presence on the grounds. This place was equal parts boot camp for future soldiers and high school.

For now though he just leaned back with his hands laced behind his head and rested into his arms. He was basically now in his own head, the rest of the classroom a world apart from his little mental sanctuary as he speculated about his invitation to this room and just what exactly was in store for him here. Chances were likely that it'd be the standard fare but for the time being all he had was speculation.

---

---

The school was as noisy as it had been the last time she'd been outside of the lab - about a month ago when she'd finally been given some free time, although what she'd been expected to do with this break, exactly, she still wasn't sure - but she shut it out as best she could, blasting loud pop-rock from some no-name artist in her headphones as she walked briskly through the halls of the academy, trying to find her way to her new classroom. She'd avoided the main entrance hall, as appearing there again when classes were just starting for the day and students would be bustling in and out would just be asking for another incident to occur. Making her way instead through a side entrance located close to the NHP's lab on campus, she'd taken a little-used service elevator up to the sixth floor. But just because she was on the right floor didn't mean it would be easy to find exactly where she was supposed to be. Given that she couldn't exactly read, checking a map was out of the question, and she didn't want to take off her headset to read somebody's mind for directions, both out of simple pride and because there weren't any people around in the first place. Even had there been, though, she wouldn't have taken such a cheap way out. She was going to find this place herself if it was the last thing she did. Stopping to the side of the corridor, she glanced out the window upon the courtyard far below, watching as the lumbering form of some enormous familiar waddled its way around the side of the building. Thinking over what she knew about the school's numbering conventions, Lorelei tried to puzzle out where she was headed. The number was 2-2-1-3. The first set of numbers - the first denoting north/south and the second indicating east/west - signified its directional placement on an imaginary coordinate plane with the center of the floor as the origin, if she remembered correctly. The origin was - probably to avoid using negative numbers in room names - designated as "1." 2-2 would mean it was in the northeast wing, then. She'd come from the NHP lab, which was in the west wing, and the rooms around where she was currently standing were numbered 0-0, which meant she hadn't left the west side of the building. She had, however, unwittingly gone south, which meant... she literally couldn't have been further from where she was headed. She groaned, lamenting her own ignorance as she turned around, trying to orient herself. She must have been following the west wall and heading south in order to end up where she was, which meant going further into the building and heading the opposite way would take her where she needed to go. Fortunately, she'd set out from the lab with an hour to spare, which meant she'd still probably be early... if she could just find a hallway facing eastward.

"Seriously, why is this school so huge?" She grumbled, angrily poking the "next" key on her music player several times on shuffle, searching for a song she hadn't heard in a million times before. Unfortunately, the device apparently decided it would be best to choose a peppy pop number about the importance of hurrying so as not to be late... six times in a row. She was fairly certain that the stupid thing was mocking her at this point. In defiance of its rebellious will, she switched it back to manual and instead chose a rather slow, melancholic arrangement on the piano, with quiet, peaceful vocals that set her mind at ease. Sighing to herself, she continued to walk, quietly humming along to the music only she could hear. Granted, the hallways she traversed were devoid of other activity, as in a place as large as Anthemia Academy, one could often walk in the less-used areas for several minutes without seeing a single soul, which meant her headphones weren't strictly nessecary to ensure her thoughts remained solely her own anymore. Still, she enjoyed having sound to break the stillness of the world around her, so she left them on, focusing on the music to break her focus away from the monotony of her aimless wanderings.

"In this world of black and white, there is a truth that's set in stone," She sang quietly in a voice heard by no-one, her words reverberating peacefully off the walls of the lifeless corridor, her footsteps keeping time with the song of which only she was aware. "All souls that are born to live must claim a place to call their own," She continued, turning into a corridor prominently labeled 1-1-7. She was getting closer. "My role in this world's scheme... it makes me want to scream... I'm trapped within a dream... with an ending yet unknown." As the vocalist lapsed back into silence, Lorelei continued to hum, keeping the beat as she kept on walking. "Is this just the fate that has been set in store for you and I? So that we can't be hurt, we hide all of the tears we cry? I have wiped them all away, for every single day... rather than be betray'd... I'll be alone until I die." The music began to build, but just then, she turned a corner and found herself standing in the first hallway of section 2-2. Grinning to herself, she reluctantly stopped the song she'd been enjoying so much - it wouldn't do to present herself before the one she'd been sent to report to with music blaring in her headphones, after all - and headed for the third door she saw. Opening it just a crack, she peered in around the frame, trying to gauge the situation before she entered. Fortunately, it looked like she was still early enough that the officer in charge of enforcing conscription orders - whoever he was - wasn't there yet. Unfortunately, it seemed several students were earlier than her, which meant that her entrance would inevitably draw a little more attention than she would have liked. Still, there was little she could do about that. What was done was done, after all. If the other students tried to pick fights with her, all she had to do was wait until the military's goons showed up, and then leave it to them to enforce discipline. She'd not be faulted that way, and those who antagonized her would soon find themselves deterred from doing so. Reassuring herself that this, as least, was something she could manage without difficulty, she took a deep breath, starting the music back up in her headphones in order to drown out the thoughts of the other students as she did so. Then, she opened the door. Ensuring that she didn't make eye contact with anyone she saw, she walked calmly in, her bearing rigid and her countenance utterly impassive. Making her way to the back of the class, she pointedly ignored the fact that there were other people in the room, simply looking through them when she couldn't look away from them. She focused solely on the music. The music was all she perceived. The music would help her relax, would keep her from hearing the voices of any of those who doubtless detested her. Aside from it, there was nothing. She was calm. There were no problems whatsoever. There were only her orders and the music. Everything that was not a mission to be accomplished or a tool to help her achieve those objectives was meaningless. She was Subject 17 of the New Human Project. She was a weapon. She did not feel, she did not think. She only existed to act. Nothing but her actions could earn her merit. Nothing else mattered. She was the unfeeling doll of her superiors. She would obey their wishes, do her duty, and avoid punishment. She was Lorelei, and that was all she was.

Sinking thus into an almost meditative state, she settled herself in a chair far away from both the small gathering at the center of the room and the few individuals scattered elsewhere throughout the class. Aside from one man - a very tall, sturdily built youth with dark hair wrapped up in a dusty bandanna - who was seated a few chairs away, but who seemed almost as disinterested by the goings-on as herself, Lorelei was fairly distant from all of the other students. She wouldn't bother them, and, if they knew what was good for them, they wouldn't bother her. This was how it should be. Bessiger couldn't fault her for minding her own business, and so long as she played her part as his puppet well, he should have had nothing to complain about. It was rather distasteful, in her opinion, but regardless, it would be easier in the long run to just act as he had taught her. Show no emotions. Feel nothing. Focus on the goal, and treat others with the respect they deserve. So long as the "real Humans" in the class, superior to a "mere tool" like her simply by birthright, earned her subservience, then there would be no issues. The only problem was that, considering the sorts of people she would have to deal with, she found the chances that they'd leave her be quite low. And, if they did decide to harass and belittle her, as she expected, then they would ill deserve the respect that Bessiger forced her to show as a matter of policy. Still, she'd comply - for now. But if they tried to push her and see how much it would take to break her composure, then she swore, if she got the chance to do it discreetly enough to slip by without the doctor noticing, she would make them sorely regret testing her patience...

Hector was already out of the shower before dawn came. He dried himself and put his clothes on, observing his room as he did so. It was cluttered, and much of it was dusty, but it had a cozy feeling. Every wall was lined with dusty books, most of which Hector had read, while bits and pieces of electronic components were scattered around a large, metal desk that was nearly placed in the center of the room. There was a window with a view, as well, that overlooked a large courtyard from it's placement at the third story of a building. Looking through this window, many would be reminded of the immense size of the Academy. It was more like a city, than a traditional school. In a corner of the room, was Hector's desk, covered in papers that need to be sorted out.

Hector's stomach growled as he gathered his bearings. He made himself a simple breakfast of cereal, and sat down at his desk, spoon in one hand, and pencil in the other. Hector was writing research notes on magic. Despite all the knowledge humanity has on magic, there is still much that is unknown. Hector was curious about magic. Many people believed that magic could not be explained by science. However, Hector knew differently. Magic was a part of the world. It followed rules and principles. Right now, all Hector was doing was using mathematical induction to see if he could make a new theory. However, Hector was also trying to take it slow. He had only just woken up.

Having finished his food, Hector decided to stop with the equations for the morning. The dawn came, and with it, a robot came to Hector's door to relay a message. Hector opened his door, and looked at the robot attentively.

“Kazuhira, Hector. Your homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?”

"No."

Hector closed the door and grabbed his jacket. Looking around the room, Hector identified what he would need with a speed and readiness that almost shocked him. Hector was never particularly popular. The people in his classes knew him, to a degree, but even they did not know much. The people who did not share any classes with him likely did not even know his name. Not that Hector minded. He wasn't desperate for attention, and liked being alone.

Hector grabbed his belongings, placed them in a bag, and put the portable intercom into his pocket after checking to verify that his classes have changed. The hallways leading to the elevator were quiet, and there were very few people in the halls. Upon reaching the elevator and pushing the button for the sixth floor, Hector checked his watch, and noted that he was still early. Extremely early. He may even be the first one in the class. That was until the door was opened and another student, a blonde male, rushed in, obviously panicked, while something on all fours rushed after him.

Hector took note of the situation. The elevator was not where he needed it to be, a student was running from a creature of some kind, and there seemed to be no one else in that hallway. Hector immediately drew his staff and ran out of the elevator. The creature looked like a wolf, but seemed to have just been a Fae. Hector aimed his staff forward as he saw the Fae's mouth begin to spew fire. The air around the tip of Hector's staff began to shimmer before a very thin, translucent blade appeared around it, turning his staff into a makeshift spear. The "blade" is actually made of plasma that Hector is magnetically shaping into the form of a blade. Hector swung the spear at the flames, using wind magic to blow the flames away from himself, or any of the walls and floors. Before Hector could thrust his spear at the Fae, a man in a military uniform ran from behind a turn in the hallway and held out his hand for a magic spell that seemed to calm the Fae. The Fae vanished as the flames dissipated.

The soldier put his hand down as he turned to Hector and the student who was fleeing from the Fae, who had now come out of the elevator.

The commotion was over quickly, but it was loud, and attracted more than just the soldier. The relevant authorities made their way to the area, and after many questions were asked and answered, the situation was made clear, and Hector was able to go back to the elevator. Apparently, the student had conjured a Fae that preferred to be alone, and it chased him while his screaming attracted the soldier, who happened to be a summoner able to stop the Fae.

Exiting the elevator on the sixth floor, Hector sighed. The whole process was not something that would be a major event on campus, but it did hold Hector up for awhile. He turned to enter the class, and found several of his classmates were already there. Standing near the doorway was Duran, holding the pieces of a robot in his hands, beckoning for someone to take it off his hands.

"I'll do it, Duran," Hector said as he took the pieces out of Duran's hands, placed them on the floor, and was about to begin to repair it, before he realized that using his magic for that purpose was technically illegal. Not wanting to take chances, Hector just left the pieces of the robot outside of the door, and called the school's help line as he began to take a seat near a window.

After the call was concluded, Hector began to take note of his classmates that were in the room, at the moment. Duran, loud as ever, but a friend. Willow, a great medic and a good person. Robin, a scholar and ally. Lev and Joe, who, like Hector, did not talk much. Cuddy, who is possibly the single most cheerful person Hector has ever met. And Lorelei. Hector did not know much about her, beyond the fact that she is one of the human weapons developed by the NHP.

Class was off to a fairly good start.

---

---

---

---

Kenji lay sleeping on a park bench as his familiar poked at his face in an attempt to wake him up. Every once in a while a person would casually stroll past him giving strange glances towards the guy sleeping on a park bench. This was not really unusual for Kenji, if it was possible for him to sleep in a place you could count he would sleep there if he was lazy enough. His main reason for choosing a park bench as his place of resting was because he had a huge dinner and the walk back to his room would have taken at least twenty minutes. So instead of wasting all that time Kenji just plopped himself down on the nearest bench and said goodnight to the world.

After a solid ten minutes of his face being prodded by his familiar he finally awake. Slowly rubbing his eyes as he looked around to, after a brief moment a confused expression took held of his face before his just shrugged it off giving the bench a pat before standing up. "Thank you bench for housing me last night." Pausing for a moment seemingly in deep thought. "Comfort rating four out of ten." He said while looking at Riku with a smile.

Riku hopped onto Kenji's shoulder and they started off towards the city to get some food. Twenty-minutes later after a quick bite and almost getting into a scuffle, he returned to the bench which had turned into a semi-home for now. Just as he dropped down onto the bench about ready to closed his eyes to take another nap Kenji heard a voice call out from over his shoulder. With a glance back a android was standing just on the other side of his bench addressing him. "Kenji Yamanaka. Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?"

Kenji looked back at the android with a puzzled face which slowly morphed into a look of annoyance. This message meant that he had to return to studying which Kenji just dreaded. Envisioning a world were homework and studying wasn't needed and more physical studies were looked better upon. Snapping back to reality he turned his attention back to the android before shoving his hands into his pockets and proceeded to make his way towards the academy. Taking a brief pause to shout at the android, taking out that little bit of annoyance out on it. "No, I'm fine go back to doing whatever you things do. Thanks though."

With the school in sight Kenji checked to make sure his tail was securely hidden away. His biggest fear would easily be someone finding out that he was a hybrid creature who's powers were built inside a lab with scientists probing and morphing each part of him. Quick images flashed in his mind about his childhood after he had escaped the lab. Roaming through the streets with questions bombarding him about his tail. With people attacking him with stones the moment they learned of what he really was. The streets of Kozamu had and still was his home, but the place held dark memories for the Kenji. He quickly learned it was best to keep his tail hidden and to avoid talking about it if someone somehow found out.

Reaching the school it seemed as if he would finally get back to clearing this world of its evils, be it the daemons or humans who's actions were just as wrong as the daemons they feared. It didn't matter to Kenji as long as in the end this world was a better place. Kenji had no problems becoming the monster needed to accomplish that goal, just as he had done once before. The class room was finally in sight, he had hoped that he wasn't the last to arrive as he was late most of the time. Opening the door to the room it seemed as if their were already quite a few people inside. It didn't seem as if he was late which might be something that should be praised as his first and last time.

While he was excited to see some action he had no enthusiasm to return to any form of studying or learning. Nothing was worse then dying of boredom. Dragged himself towards the back of the class room taking a seat there. Kenji always carried his sword wrapped up on his back, as he sat down he slid it off his shoulder placing it gently at an angle held up by the desk. Most of the time Kenji wasn't the best at making friends, though he had mastered the art of making enemies as he could pick a fight with almost anyone. Still friends were not his forte and this class was no exception. Kicking his legs up he placed them on the desk in front of him, while closing his left eye and only keeping his right eye barely open, just enough so that he wouldn't miss anything to exciting as this class had a history of being out of the norm.

All that was left was to wait for class to get rolling, or maybe for some heads to start rolling. If the latter option started Kenji was all for it, though he would make do with the first option. It was prime time to bring out his secret technique, the logic in his head was flawless while most quickly picked up on the fact that Kenji was just certifiably an idiot. What Kenji refereed to as his secret technique consisted of storing all his energy during class by putting in almost no effort so that he would have double the energy outside for real activities. Just before getting ready to take a quick nap Kenji's face burst to life as he reached down into his bag before pulling out a novel. Flicking it open halfway as he leaned back in his seat, immersing himself in the story.

---

Dialogue ~ #4AA429

---

Nico placed her boot lightly on the surface in front of her as she walk along the thin ledge of a balcony, her arms spread out in a balancing act as she took one little hop after the other. There was a dim glow on the horizon, the sun quietly announcing its presence before it would shed its morning rays across the city. Nico had awoken earlier than usual, about an hour from now, and was already washed, fed, and fully dressed before the sky even began to lighten. With no morning class to attend after the inconvenient death of her teacher, she could only slump in the chair of her desk. Of course, boredom took a hold of her in mere seconds and with nothing better to do, she decided to take a leisurely morning walk along whatever open ledges the school provided.

She took another light hop, one she probably would've landed with no problem had a voice not shouted into her ear at the same second her boot made contact with the surface of the ledge.

"Would you find someplace safer to walk!?"

Her leg wobbled as she stepped down and her arms wavered as she attempted to regain her balance. She managed to straighten herself out and remained standing on one leg as she gave the owner of the voice that had nearly made her fall an irritated glare.

"It'll be your fault if I fall, Fawn. Go away."

The cat-like Fae hovered a little more than a food about Nico's head.

"Maybe chose someplace a little closer to the ground?"

Fawn's blue twin followed along a little further behind, his voice cautious as he made his suggestion, unlike the pink Fae who's voice was proud and extremely annoying on top of that.

"I don't remember summoning you," Nico said bluntly, taking another few hops along the ledge. They were constantly showing up out of nowhere, with Fawn always ready to scold her whenever she was having even the slightest bit of fun. Wobbling again as her foot stepped a little too close to the edge, she could hear the gasp of the pink Fae above her, then a heavy sigh of relief as Nico slid her foot over and regained herself. "and we're only eight stories up, it's not like this is a dangerous height or something. Besides, check out the view!"

Her heel maid a scraping sound as she spun around to face the direction of the sun. The burning light was beginning to creep its way upwards, the faint orange beams flashing over the city whose lights were gradually dying out. The sky was taking on a much lighter blue now, and the sound of morning birds were mixed in with the distant sound of the city waking up in the distance.

"I think falling from eight stories would certainly be a life hazard."

"You're ruining the moment, J.," Nico said in a somewhat hushed tone as she placed her hand over the blue Fae's mouth, but she shuddered as something wet brushed over her fingers.

"Ah, gross!" Her hand snapped back, J.'s tongue slipping back into his mouth as his expression turned to pure satisfaction. This didn't last, however, as Nico's quick movement caused her foot to slip completely off the surface of the ledge.

"Uh-oh," were the only words she could manage before falling. Though her familiars had lost all composure and were zipping after her, Nico kept her usual wide-eyed expression. Her familiars worried too much for their own good. There was a loud crash and dust filled the air, taking a few moment before it began to clear. A hammer about the size of a car had been lodged into the ground with Nico firmly grasping it's handle.

"U-using your weapon outside of battle is against the rules!"

A careless smile spread across Nico's face as the hammer shrunk down to the size of a key chain before disappearing in the same matter as a bubble popping.

"Haha, oh yeah, guess we better get outta here then, huh?"

Erenheart, Nicolla.

Fawn let out a terrified, raspy whimper at the fear of Nico being caught by whomever had said her name, but she quickly relaxed.

"Thomas!" Nico said cheerfully, turning to face one of the many androids that belonged to the school. Since they all had complicated names made up of only a couple of letters and a plentiful amount of numbers, Nico had decided to call them Thomas. Yes, every single one.

Your Homeroom has been changed to sixth floor inside room 2-2-1-3. You are to report there during these morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?"

"Finally, I was starting to worry they were gunna drop you."

Nico would ignore that statement, partly because it actually didn't bother her that much, and partly because she was also starting to worry herself. Obviously she did nothing to deserve to be thrown out. She was a perfect student in every way. Well, mostly. Sort of.

"Roger that, Thomas! That'll be all!"

The android gave a slight bow before leaving them to do whatever androids do in their spare time. With the sun now completely illuminating the sky, it would be about time for usual morning classes to start. 2-2-1-3, however, was on the opposite side of her location, not that it mattered to much to her. Tardiness meant nothing as long as you showed up.

✄ ✿ ✄

Nico stood at the doorway of 2-2-1-3, her familiars no longer trailing behind her, thank tacos. She stretched her arms above her head and leaned backwards, taking a long stretch before letting out a sigh and relaxing her muscles. Her lips parted slightly as she let oxygen fill her lungs. Slowly she raised her foot before she smiled wildly and she slammed the bottom of her boot against the door, causing it to fly open and hit the wall behind it.

"Sorry I'm late!!" she exclaimed loudly as she practically leaped inside, though she quickly realized that there was an absence of an adult in the decently-sized classroom. "No...no way! I'm here before the teacher? This is awesome!"

She let out a proud, but brief laugh before she moved her eyes over the other bodies in the room. Looked like there were a lot of familiar faces, but Nico decided to take a seat in the middle spaced away from the others. She wasn't in the mood for conversation just yet.

(OOC: Didn't mean to tag Daenerys)

---

“It's not my fault they build them so fragile, Willow.” Duran shrugged at his teammate's gawk. “Can't knock, can't listen, can't trust tech to do a people job. Just give me the good old times when things were easy.” He just let his head fall. Really, who would put so much time and money into making a subpar machine that any errand boy with a notebook could do ten times better?

“Thanks Hector, I owe you.” Duran slapped the green-haired youth on the back. It was a pretty handy thing, having people around who did know what to do with those trash heaps. Though Duran wondered why Hector didn't actually start his repairs. He knew from experience Hector didn't need an actual help-line to fix something lowbrow like the little droid. He'd seen Hector build and repair far more impressive things. “Anything wrong?” Duran asked.

Hector looked towards Duran, thinking of his question. There wasn't anything wrong, and Hector was trying to think of what could have made Duran say that, before realizing it must have been the robot.

"Nothing is wrong. I could have repaired it, but I think the Academy would examine it to make sure that it is up to par with their standards. I thought that it would not be worth the effort to repair it myself. Bureaucracy, really."

Hector never turned from his desk. He never made eye contact. He knew that Duran was listening, though. As Nico entered, Hector began to wonder when the teacher would come.