"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...