Snippet #2396956

Roma

Sister Cain sat at her desk, pen in hand as she wrote what she hoped would be a letter of heartfelt farewell. She paused as she looked into the lower courtyard. Able’s pet has come back from another mission. Sister Cain frowned as she watched the deadly angel make her way to the armory. Able depended too much on the child’s prowess in her opinion. Still, she was not as dangerous as some of the other monsters that still slept. Sister Cain’s pen went back to the script before her and finished another line.

The sister then sighed and folded the letter. She could say no more. It was time to leave, the wind had changed course. Still... A Guardian’s work was never complete and she could find no more rest here in the shadows. Too much had changed to ensure the safety of the sleeping children. .

Rising to her feet, Sister Cain left her room, her long black skirts sweeping over the stonework of the old monastery. She went down the narrow stairs away from the nun’s private rooms and around a corner where there was an old storage shed. No one paid it any mind, the contents were generally known to be old artifacts and books in need of repair. Due to the lack of glory in the work, few agreed to do it. This suited Sister Cain as she entered, her key turning the old bolt soundly and whisper quiet. That had been the first task when she had first arrived and found the old storage unit.

Small amounts of dust came up with each step as Sister Cain went to the very little explored back rooms. Paintings, statues, old volumes of doctrines long forgotten, and old alters that once adored the many chapels were all forgotten here. Normally Sister Cain would have dusted them, oiled the woods, and cleaned them as best she could, but not today. In the very back corner, hidden from view, was one last alter. Sister Cain looked at the altar and then bowed before it. On it was a picture of a man she had once knew and loved dearly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I’m sorry I could not save your daughter, your Lotus... But, she lives. I know she does.” she took another breath, “I’m sorry that I drove him away. You would be proud to know he did not abandon your teachings as I had.” The picture remained silent to the confession. “But I can still save one child, and that child in turn can save Lotus.

Sister Cain bowed again and moved the picture frame to a small table beside the altar. She then placed her hands on the marble of the altar and pushed in three ivory carvings that were inset into the stone.

The stone groaned and moved as it gave up it’s secrets, revealing a capsule. Sleeping inside was the body of a boy, no more than eight.

Sister Cain smiled and lovingly placed her hands on the capsule.

“Kyoto,” she whispered and placed her forehead against the glass. “I promise soon you’ll be free.” Then she moved over to the computer placed beside the capsule.

It was time and Sister Cain sat beside the capsule. Fingers landed on the keyboard, seconds later.


Londonsfog typed furiously, her fingers fluttering as over the keys as she delved deeper over the information that was being uploaded.

She had sent the instructions to the second Gen hacker, Glitch, on the address to upload to. From there London would split the files and then retransmit them across several servers before using remote software to view the files. If they were the genuine deal then she would consider making a hard copy. But until anything was verified, she would treat it as a possible threat. The thought made London’s head hurt. Even she would eventually feel the strain of what she had to do, on top of the already dangerous game she was playing with ISI.

They would find Lan and take him- ironically, ISI was the only organization who could offer the protection Lan would need. And even more so, they had the tools he would need to keep the sleeping children, asleep. London sighed and rubbed her forehead in the glow of her screen. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep playing. Not when she was making the decisions by herself and trusted so few with being able to carry out the instructions. ISI couldn’t know how many veterans of the last war still brewed over their losses and still remembered that it was ISI that wiped out their friends as examples. But she knew and that number dwindled as the vets became complacent. No longer strong enough enough to be a threat, she was alone. Oh so alone.

Carefully, she typed out a response,

“Glitch,

You are to take the following steps:

You are to upload to the following server linked in this email.
You are then to remove your hard drive and destroy it. Physically. Anything less will not be accepted.

You are then to go dark.

Run.

There will be a plane ticket by the name of Sam White soon. Take it. You will meet the Hands of Jane and from there be granted safety.

Failure to follow these instructions will void any promise of safety I can offer.

Our Vows have been Broken. Our Colors have been changed.

We have become Legion"

LondonsFog

London sat back looking at the email. It would have to do. Even if it meant working with a 2nd gen.



Lan aka Codec

The darkness. It pushed into his mind in all directions and there was no stopping the force that weighed in on him.

Nothingness. It pressed against him in a way he didn’t think was possible. Thick fabric
separated him from the rest of the world and his ability to see, causing panic to shoot
through his veins. Lan closed his eyes, trying to establish some sort of breathing pattern-
his bindings too tight to think about making an escape. Not that he had anywhere to go.

He had known he would be caught; they all would be caught one day. Hadn’t he been told that
enough when he fought so many years ago? He struggled against his bindings as his
darkest fears caught hold of him. What would they do to him? If they wanted him dead,
they would have already ended his life.

Lan struggled with his bindings, earning himself another kick from his captors if he struggled too much. Still little by little, he was able to press his fingers against the floor of the transport. He tried to guess what the craft might be, the fight in Switzerland too brief for him to remember much, other than the rough hands and the barks of commands. Lan swallowed another wave of panic and focused on the vibrations. Aircraft. There wasn’t anything that suggested terrain.

Try and think of a plan. Even as the voices in his past crept back to haunt him, Lan wondered who might have put his captors on his tail. The list of possibilities were few and a sickening feeling of how much he didn’t want to know cause him to dry cough and heave. It drove him to near physical sickness as Lan curled up on the floor of the craft. Friendless and helpless as the captors took him to their prison.

God only knew what they wanted.