[Fiction] Into the Lion's Den

[Singularity]

May 27th

11:58 pm

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

Soft light filled the arcology, mimicking the night sky outside of the ferroconcrete and Plexiglas. The artificial world inside of the engineering marvel seemed ready to settle in for the night, some sections still bustling with nightlife while residential areas quietly entered slumber.

Padding through the ground level, Franklin navigates himself through the internal avenues, slipping through the occasional pack of late night party-goers. He’s surprised that his status as a nova is almost blown off, as if it was so common to see one here. He expected the silver-skinned It to appear and tell him to leave, but it seemed his presence wasn’t bothering anyone. Or his personal identity hadn’t been made by the security personnel yet. Either way, he takes it as a good sign.

Finally reaching the Utopia/Team Tomorrow quarter of the arcology, Franklin pushes right to what seems like the lobby area, finding the lone night receptionist perusing the OpNet. She looks up at Franklin once he reaches the desk, giving him a warm smile, "Hello. How can I help you?"

He takes a neutral stance, trying his best not to seem threatening or intimidating, "I do not have an appointment but I was hoping to meet with one of your recruitment personnel. As soon as possible."

The receptionist nods, rotating in her chair to face her computer. "Well, it's unusual for such a late visit but I can see what I can do for you." She enters some information into the computer and then pauses, "Can I get your name, please?"

"Franklin Alden."

The keyboard quickly clicks for a second before abruptly stopping. Franklin notes her changing body language, watching her freeze before subtlety retracting from his presence as much as she can without being obvious. Her voice falters a bit, the customer service veil failing, "Uh... it'll be just a moment..."

Franklin nods, turning away from her stare and understanding her reaction. As far as she knew, he was a heartless elite, capable of killing her without batting an eye, physically or morally. He can sense the change in the room, cameras now trained on him as he sits down in a chair and the poor baseline woman silently hoping the new guest will leave her presence quickly.

Maybe this is going to be harder than he thought.

[Ghostwriter]

May 27th

11:58 pm

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia

"Dammit," Regan McLachlan mutters under her breath, stabbing herself in the finger with the embroidery needle as her doorbell rang. She sets aside the embroidery hoop and shapes her eufiber into her full uniform, pulling on her knee-brace with a few choice words.

"Come in!" she yells, once fully clad and decently groomed.

"The door's locked," replies the familiar voice of Janus Mendoza, T2MCe's primary teleporter.

"Doesn't that tell you something?" Regan retorts, walking over to the door and opening it. The Spanish youth is also dressed in uniform, in his case a full blue and gold bodysuit modelled a little too closely on Caestus Pax's to really suit his lanky frame. Since the visit to Julie's grave, this young man had become rather solemn and withdrawn around her.

"Security called. There's an ex-Elite named Franklin Alden in the foyer, looking for a recruiter." Mendoza shakes his head. "Thought I'd seen it all."

"Singularity's here?" Regan asks in surprise. "Ex-DeVries hired killer himself?" She sighs. "Thought he was bullshitting on the N! Prime boards."

"Know him?"

"Only by reputation. Became one of DeVries' best, went into the Himalayas, came back a supposedly changed man. He's the bloke Montoya-Bernal and T2MAm had to clean up after he killed and injured three pissed Elites." They leave her apartment and head towards the foyer. "You're not recruitment, neither am I. What does Security want us to do?"

"Watch him until we can roust out Director Laragione." Mendoza smiles grimly. "I'd like to mix it up with a DeVries."

"Don't be an idiot, kiddo. Julie was tougher and stronger than you, and now she's worm-food." Codex's blunt tone as she speaks about the death of her friend shocks him; she can see it in his liquid brown eyes. "I'm serious, Mendoza; I rank you, and if you try any shit, I'll send your silly ass to the bathrooms for toilet cleaning duty for the rest of the night. Clear?"

"As crystal." They reach the foyer, Codex in the lead. She notices Singularity sitting down right away and the tense behaviour of Magdalena, the night receptionist.

"Mr Alden?" Codex says crisply, her expression carefully schooled into neutrality. "I'm Codex; you might remember me from the boards. This is my fellow Auxiliary Janus Mendoza. How may we help you?"

She watches the handsome dark-haired man closely, her blue eyes sharp as augers. Dark blonde hair has been cut into a more stylish bob than the pictures at the forums and on the OpNet, and her parchment-coloured skin has developed more frown lines, but otherwise she still looks like the modestly attractive woman in her old publicity shots.

Mendoza flanks her to her right. Tall and lanky, he is of obvious Mediterranean ancestry, his black hair cropped short above a long, pleasantly homely face. Now and again a flicker of pearlescent blue light arcs from pupil to the edge of the iris in his brown eyes, and the air seems to shimmer slightly around his body. {He's got a Ripple Shield up for those with Quantum Attunement.}

[Singularity]

Uncrossing his legs, Franklin studies the two new arrivals. He notes the disturbance around Mendoza, marking the man as uneasy, perhaps anxious. Fortunately, the tall man appeared to be in control and the Auxiliary was someone Franklin could talk with later... assuming everything went well.

The blonde, however, appears to be putting a better mask over her feelings. He briefly ponders over what she's keeping under that shell of professionalism. She is the one of the ones Franklin knows he needs to convince: someone who has every reason to hate him for who he once was.

If Codex believes he's changed then this could get a whole lot easier. If she believes then there might be redemption for him. Or he might be walking into certain death. Either way, this was going to be difficult for the Utopians and almost impossible for him.

Franklin gets up to his feet with inhuman grace, his white eufiber hanging closely to his statuesque frame. His tan is still fading and his hair didn't seem nearly as stylish as it was in the past, but his striking appearance remains, like an ancient hero incarnate. And the trademark confident smirk from his DeVries photos is gone, replaced with a look of interest.

"Actually," he begins to say, moving unthreateningly towards the other novas, "I want to offer my help. I am here to provide my services and expertise to Project Utopia and its members. If you will have me."

[Ghostwriter]

Regan narrows her eyes at Franklin, the only sign of her skepticism that she allows her expression to show. "So Security told us," she says in a roughened medium soprano. "I'm sure you understand some concern on our part?"

*Not to mention skepticism,* Mendoza remarks telepathically. Regan suspected that he'd been reading too much Anne McCaffrey before he erupted, particularly her Talents series, because though his powers were mostly spatial-related, they were 'psychic' in nature.

Janus, hush, was all she says in reply to the young man. "Please, take your seat again," she tells Franklin. "If I have to be the one to keep an eye on you until Director Laragione arrives, I intend to sit." She follows word with deed, settling down on a seat, braced leg stretched outward. Mendoza remains standing, watching Singularity like he was an incarnation of the Antichrist and trying to avoid looking like he thinks that.

"Why in all the names of all the gods who have ever lived have you chosen to work for Utopia?" Regan asks, her voice suddenly weary beyond words. "DeVries Elites aren't usually known for this sort of conversion; it's usually the other way 'round. Why are you here?"

[Singularity]

Franklin raises his eyebrows and sits back down with a shrug, resigned to waiting, "All right then."

After comfortably settled again in the chair, directs his attention to the petite nova, ignoring Mendoza's glare. "Because DeVries is no longer the right place for me. I no longer have a place in the world leaving a wake of destroyed lives and shattered dreams behind me while amassing a fortune too massive for one man to ever use." His eyes dart briefly to the receptionist, hoping his relatively blunt words didn't startle her.

He sighs, letting the weight of his conscience bear down on him, "It is time I use my abilities for something good in this world. I can move mountains and I cannot seem to do anything except destroy. Is that hard to believe?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Pretty words," Codex tells Franklin. "All I've heard so far are pretty words." She clasps her hands in her lap so tightly that the knuckles are pale with tension. "On March 8th 2009, you were serving along the Indian side of Kashmir. Your mission was to neutralise a Kashmiri resistance group in the village of Palanasi. On the way there, you were intercepted by a pair of T2M Auxiliaries on patrol. One of them was a member of T2MAm named Crimson - tall, red-haired girl with superspeed and hardened skin. You might remember her - she ended up in traction for six weeks. My friend Warlady was the other, and even she was roughed up."

Codex gives Franklin a hard gaze. "I know exactly what you did, when you did it, and to whom. Why I should I - or anyone else - trust the word of a confessed killer, when his deeds speak so much louder than words?"

[Singularity]

Franklin's clothes shift, as if cushioning a blow, "I know exactly what I did. Alchemist ignored it, Dr. Troll looked past it. I could not forget it even if I tried." He closes his eyes, "I have hundreds, if not thousands of death masks stored in my mind. Permenantly. If you think my deeds speak loudly to you, then you do not know how loudly their consequences scream in my mind."

His head snaps to the right, watching the receptionist quietly excuse herself, making a quiet noise about the bathroom. Franklin mentally curses at himself, knowing he's had this affect on baselines before. Talking wasn't working, he knows there's only one way to make this work. Now if he could only bring himself to do it.

He locks his silver orbs back on Codex's piercing blue eyes, letting the rest of the world drop away, "How about I give you absolute evidence of my choice? Unquestionable evidence and a show of complete trust by me?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Alchemist and Dr. Troll do not possess my ability to look beyond words into the subtext," Regan replies flatly. "I remember how Julie looked when she came home from that particular tour of duty. You were the first Elite to defeat her, you know that? And Crimson quit and went back home to Alabama."

Codex bows her head for a moment, then raises it. "What could you offer that would prove to me that your 'conversion' is real?"

[Singularity]

"You are a telepath, correct? Give me five, no, two minutes alone with you. I will give you the proof." Franklin keeps his eyes locked on her, his laser-like focus and self-control pushing away all of his reservations, "Your friend can watch via the security system but I do not want anyone else with us. I promise I will not hurt you nor am I trying to trick you. In fact, I will be in far more danger than you will be. Far more danger than I have even been."

[Ghostwriter]

Regan sighs. "Mendoza, go to Security Room 2 and watch us. If I don't telepathically ask you to return in five minutes, send an alert to everyone on the team."

"Are you nuts?" Mendoza asked in astonishment. "You heard what he fucking well said about killing folks and that!"

"Do it, Mendoza. I'd probably be the one to have to scan him anyway. This just saves time." Codex gives Franklin a cold look. "You'd better not be bullshitting us, because as tough as you are, Caestus Pax is a damn sight more so."

Mendoza smiles in grim agreement and vanishes through a door.

"You're immune to psychic powers, correct?" Codex asks once they are alone. "I presume you will dorm then. I'll say this now; if I sense one bit of treachery, you won't enjoy my reaction."

[Singularity]

He nods, bowing his head, "Yes, I am immune to most psychic attacks. In fact, part of me cannot stand the very idea of someone inside of my head."

His clothing ripples again, pulling in closely before abruptly relaxing. "I have never done this with anyone else around; there is no one for me to trust." He gives a self-depreciating laugh, "I do not even know why I trust you enough to do this."

Franklin sits up in his chair, assuming near perfect posture, and slowly closes his silver eyes. He lays his hands in his lap, slowly breathing in and out in a practiced manner. Slowly, his body changes, losing a bit of unseen luster and perfection. His late-twenties face slowly ages to his actual mid-thirties age yet retaining his natural attractiveness. Slowly, his now brown eyes open, still showing his intense control and intelligence. "You should be able to access my mind now," voice only slightly altered by his dormancy.

"I will not be able to hide anything from you," he says before dropping his voice lower and softer, "I hope it is enough."

[Ghostwriter]

"Fine. Look into my eyes." Codex catches Franklin's eyes with her keen gaze. A circle of black cursive script spins around her head as she takes Franklin's hands into her own and projects her quantum consciousness into his mind.

Echoes of pain and grief are laced through her thoughts as they touch Franklin's, underlied by anger and distaste and a far, faint regret.

She goes inwards and downwards into Franklin's mind.

[Singularity]

Silhouetted walls of nigh invulnerable defenses pass by as Codex moves into Franklin's mind, like after images of something that should be here but isn't. What does appear to be present is open, completely submitting to her entry.

Once through his relaxed will, she reaches a foyer of sorts. A presence greets Codex, looking like a silver representation of a Greek statue. She can feel the unrepresented aspects of Franklin's mind and personality mingle in the room: interest, caring, attraction, sorrow, and more. Above the other parts is his self-preservation, howling in fear and alarm at the intruder. It thrashes, trying to defend its home, but is held in place, an unshakable will keeping it at bay: the silver figure. Here Codex is able to understand the true meaning behind Singularity's name: the unified self. It slowly becomes apparent each of his aspects move together in a subtle harmony, the only discord coming from his screaming self-preservation before it is put back into line. And the figure, the entirely silver representation of Singularity, seems to be the sum of the whole, or his will, or something uniting everything together. Regardless, it is the master and commander here, firmly in control.

Unbreakable and unblinking silver eyes watch the telepath, letting her become acclimated to the surroundings. It then shifts towards Codex, like an animal bearing its throat or a man kneeling and willingly placing his head on the executioner's block. Self-preservation gives a final yell, trying to reassert total control before being locked down to faint whisper by what must be the silver figure. Wordlessly and motionlessly the figure beckons to her, surrendering control and it opens Singularity's mind.

Franklin's aspects begun to hum and shift, some going almost completely silent while others appear from nothing, and she feels the flood of the mental and emotional record of Franklin's life played out. First comes confidence, then arrogance, dominating the chorus. 'Might is right,' unending superiority, and thuggery well up, the familiar outline of a schoolyard bully. Discontent follows then outrage and a feeling of waste.

Suddenly, vindication and excitement. The arrogance and superiority return, now stronger than ever. Satisfaction, delight, vanity, amorality, nihilism, cutthroat, lust, and even more feelings rule the retelling, other aspects falling completely silent, forgotten in the mind. All that is expressed is an uncaring, selfish, brutish man.

Before Codex can retract from the flood of the vile emotions and information the unbreakable and unblinking silver eyes return to her, the cacophony momentarily quiets. In the lull, Singularity's voice resonances in the mindscape, **Patience, it's coming,** and the abhorrent thoughts and feelings return.

Without warning, all of the aspects go silent, leaving a new element alone in the spotlight: evaluation. Then, horror rises for one of its rare appearances and turns into the new, dominating aspect: sorrow. Absolute rejection, disbelief, and remorse fill the mindscape, the cries of a man who just realized how much of a monster he had always been. Paralyzing grief reigns for an impossible time before giving into humility, atonement, and discipline. Caring, selflessness, and charity build into compassion, driving a sense of penance and karmic repayment. Finally, the lesser aggregates of sorrow and compassion rule the mindscape as discipline and intellectualism filling the background, leaving the darkest aspects banished and silenced in the new desire to make things right.

The silver form pulls back, letting Codex assimilate the transfer of emotion while letting her retain control. The figure softens; silver eyelids briefly cover silver eyes before the iron will returns to its face. The figure cocks its head at her, compassion and other aspects flocking to Codex as Singularity's vulnerable voice returns, **I don't know how else to show you I've changed, that I'm no longer that evil person. I can only help hope it's enough for you to believe.**

As if summoned, isolation fills the mindscape, showing itself as the underlining tone of Singularity's emotional change. The silver figure's head drops in resignation, **I've created nothing, I've only destroyed others. I want to prevent others from feeling the pain I've created.** Compassion and justice scream, isolation filling the background, ** I finally have a conscience and a sense of outrage to compliment my power but I have nowhere to use it and no one as a peer with it. I don't want to be so alone anymore.** Franklin's mind relaxes, his soul laid bare, waiting his judgment.

[Ghostwriter]

*Aieeee!* Codex screams psychically, her anima wheeling frantically about her head. She grits her teeth as tears begin to fall down her cheeks. *Mendoza, come back here. It's alright. He's for real.*

"I am so damned sorry," is all Codex says aloud, a world of tragedy in her eyes. "I am so damned sorry.*

[Singularity]

Comfort spills out from Franklin's mind, all other aspects shoved aside in response. His brown eyes soften for the first time, "No, I am sorry. It is my fault; I am just a monster looking for a second chance, you were only doing what is right. Is there anything I can do to help?"

[Ghostwriter]

Regan cuts off the link hastily, wiping at her cheeks. "Nothing," she says shortly just as Mendoza, Caestus Pax and Justin Laragione walk into the room. She releases Singularity's hands and turns her eyes to the three.

"He's for real," she says before any of them can speak. "I think he really wants to help out."

She sighs. "If you'll excuse me, sirs, I need a few moments alone." With that she rises and moves as quickly as she can in the direction of the ladies' room. As the door shuts, the faint sound of weeping can be heard.

[Singularity]

Brown eyes watch Codex leave, and silver eyes flash back to Mendoza and two newcomers as Franklin stands up. "Good evening gentlemen, I am sorry to call on you at such a late hour."

"Yes, Mr. Alden, it is rather late," says Pax as he shifts to the front of the Utopian group, taking a superior stance. "So, one of DeVries best agents wants to join Utopia. Give me one reason why I shouldn't throw you all the way to your master in South Africa?"

Laragione moves next to the Team Tomorrow leader, giving the large nova a calming look, "Now Pax, Mr. Alden is a guest here. If he is legitimate he could offer many things to the Project." He turns to Franklin, "If you could follow us just down the hall here, Mr. Alden, we have a room for us to speak."

The three men more a meter down the hall before turning back, looking at a motionless Franklin. He looks at the lavatory door, lost in thought as one side of his clothing flutters, the other completely still. He shuts his eyes briefly and shakes his head, bringing his clothing completely to rest, "Sorry. Please, lead on."

[Ghostwriter]

Codex cleans herself up with a bit of cold water before leaving the ladies' room, walking straight up to the four men. "My apologies," she says shortly. "Sirs, I'm ready for the meeting."

Pax nods briefly, giving the tiny blonde a glance. "Let's go."

They head down the hall until they reach a meeting room, going inside. Justin looks slightly sleepy, but alert, while Pax's expression is its typical stern self.

Once inside, Codex shuts the door and waits for everyone to sit before she does. Laragione sends Mendoza for some coffee as the most junior member there. When he is gone, Pax levels one of his almost-trademarked stern looks at Singularity. "Before I ask Codex what she sensed, I want to know this: what can you do for the Project and Team Tomorrow that someone else couldn't?"

[Singularity]

Franklin holds his eyes firm on Pax, hoping his will holds fast after the telepathic contact, "Plenty. While Team Tomorrow has been rather effective in various operations against elites, each time it relied on numerical superiority. When faced on more equal terms, the results have been much more equalized if not in favor of the elites. I can provide the Project and Team Tomorrow a perspective and training program capable of correcting this discrepancy."

He forces himself to slow down, letting his natural charisma come out. If Pax's incredulous look means anything, it's that Franklin better start providing better plans. "I am not merely talking about combat training, I am talking about understanding elites. How they think. Why they act the way they do. And how to take advantage of it." He smiles inwardly, catching his stride, "I was one of DeVries' best agents, no one outside of the Agency knows it better than I do."

"Plus, you and I both know Team Tomorrow is often stretched to its limits. I can provide individual combat support or personal protection to small Utopia teams acting in hot zones or even in public, freeing up Team Tomorrow members to work on more important tasks." Then he adjusts in his seat, addressing Laragione and Codex with Pax, "And you will have nova on your staff who is fully committed to what he is doing. Not for money, not for fame, but for doing the right thing."

[Ghostwriter]

Pax holds Singularity's gaze easily, a grunt his only reply before turning his bald head to Codex. "Well?" he asks briskly, but Regan can understand his unspoken question easily.

"He regrets his actions and wants to make up for it," she replies in a soft, strained voice. "It's a lot more complex than that, but I think since he got smarter, he realised what a waste his life has been as an Elite."

She sighs. "I misjudged him badly, sir. I thought he was just another Pursuer at worst, a bullshitter at best." A faint shrug follows. "That's the best I can tell you. I only got the emotional side of things."

Laragione winces. "Small wonder you needed to compose yourself," he tells the little blonde. His eyes flicker to Singularity. "You have a point, Mr Alden. But you understand that DeVries Elites are hardly popular here, right? Especially after Warlady's regrettable death."

[Singularity]

Franklin smiles, as if enjoying an old, repeated joke, "Yes, the Project's opinions of my former coworkers has been made clear to me on numerous occasions. I have suffered slings and arrows before, Mr. Laragione, there is no reason why I cannot do it now."

"What is important," he continues, silver eyes shifting to the little blonde, briefly betraying a look of apology and compassion, "is that she believes I am truly trying to redeem myself." He directs himself back to the two men, "If she can say I have really changed then I know I am doing the right thing." His eyes solidify with confidence, "That is motivation and vindication enough for me to endure anything."

"Yes, I'm glad you're more comfortable with yourself. But," Laragione returns immediately, " What about the tempers that might flare from some of our personnel that do not know about your change of heart?"

Franklin furrows his brow, lost to momentary thought. "For now, all I can do is show my change through my actions and words. And I can deal with almost anyone if they come at me with their fists flying." He turns again to Codex, an unreadable look on his face, "But I would hope the support of another can go a long way."

[Ghostwriter]

Regan's shoulders slump and she buries her face in her hands for a moment before she sighs heavily. "I can't make promises," she says wearily, her face lined with strain. "I don't think you know what you're asking of me, Singularity."

She shakes her head. "No, you don't. I'll explain it. You are asking me to support an ex-Elite from the very agency that killed the one person who ever loved me for myself. Change of heart or not, why in the Goddess' name should I put myself through that heartache?"

[Singularity]

Franklin sighs, letting himself deflate a bit. He locks his fingers together, turning his full focus to Codex, "I do not expect you to leap to my defense or proclaim from the top of arcology, declaring your unending and unconditional support of me."

He stops and then cocks his head, "I propose this: I can act as combat support for any time you are in the field. I will place your life above mine in defense of my former peers. Your unspoken support in return for my vigilance and alligence?"

[Ghostwriter]

"You know, that's a good idea," Laragione muses thoughtfully. "Codex, I don't want to push you into anything, but..." He trails off, glancing at Pax.

"An Elite who works for free. Now I've heard of everything," Pax remarks dryly. "This story is so far out that it must be true." The big nova looks at Codex. "You scanned him; you vouch for him."

"I can vouch for his conversion, but nothing else," Regan replies. "That's the best I can offer him, or anyone."

Pax nods, his face thoughtful. "I'll give him a chance," he finally says. "But he stays here when not in the field. 'Conversion' or not, I usually don't trust Elites as far as I throw them, even retired ones."

[Singularity]

"Agreed," Franklin says, returning his attention back to the group as a whole, "But the restriction of my free time is a limited arrangement. I would hope I can prove my loyalty in the space of a year."

Laragione nods and slowly stands to his feet, "Well then, I believe I need to get some paperwork. Will you excuse me?" The Director slips out of the room, leaving the three novas alone.

Franklin looks down for a beat before again looking to Codex, "Do you mind if I have a moment to have a private word with you when we are done?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Codex, you're his mentor," Pax tells the tiny woman. "Don't argue! You need something to keep you busy, and you're also the only one who can vouch for this one until he proves himself."

He gives Singularity a keen glance. "Somebody give you this idea, or did you come up with it on your own?"

[Singularity]

Franklin smiles, "This specifically? No, but Dr. Troll and I came up with this basic idea. Which reminds me: Pax, if there would be any kind of signing bonus for me I would appreciate it if you would forward it to Dr. Troll and Alchemist's lab. They both had a strong hand in my decision."

His face takes on an almost boyish look, "Yes, coach, I need you to keep me on task so I practice for the big game."

[Ghostwriter]

"As you wish, sir," Regan replies, her voice strained but otherwise neutral. Pax nods, his expression satisfied as he turns back to Franklin.

"If I hear of you giving this lady one ounce of heartbreak, I'll throw you out the door personally, clear?"

"I'll speak to you alone after this," Regan tells Franklin. "I have to show you around anyway."

At that point, Laragione returns with the paperwork. "Where the hell's Mendoza and the coffee?" he asks annoyedly. "Codex, call him, will you?"

*Mendoza, Laragione wants his coffee!* Regan sends to the young Spaniard.

*FUCK! I thought he was just pissing me off! came the reply. I was calming Magdalena down...*

*With your pants down?* Regan asks waspishly.

There came no answer, but two minutes later, Mendoza arrives with the coffee. "About time," Laragione tells him. "I won't ask where you were." He hands the paperwork to Singularity. "Read and sign here, here and here."

[Singularity]

Again, Franklin holds Pax's gaze, silently appreciating his aberrant eyes didn't have pupils to show a reaction, "Do not worry, I am here to stop that heartbreak from ever happening again."

He carefully reviews the paperwork, nodding at various passages before signing his name, "Well then, I guess this makes it official. I appreciate the opportunity you are giving me, not everyone gets a second chance."

He slides the pen an paper back to Laragione, clothing rustling in a wave from his shoulders down to his feet. "So if I am to be sequestered here, will I be provided with quarters or will I have to purchase a penthouse in the arcology?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Your choice," Laragione replies evenly. "Though I would advise staying here, as you'll have a lot to learn. Team Tomorrow members have specialised training, regardless of previous experience or occupation." He sips his coffee, shuffling through the paperwork. "You will be getting unmatched medical and insurance benefits, not to mention an ten-figure salary. I know you said that you don't need money, but we have to pay you by law and all of that."

The Director purses his lips. "Now I intend to get some more sleep. Mendoza, leave this on my secretary's desk. Codex, you know what to do."

Pax creases his brow thoughtfully. "I'll check in on you two tomorrow morning," he says. "I have paperwork of my own to do." Both men stand to leave, while Mendoza sighs and touches the paperwork, making it vanish.

"I'll... umm... get back to make sure... ummm... that Magdalena's alright," he says hastily, backing out of the door quickly. When he is gone, Codex sighs.

"Kids," is all she says. "Good night, sirs." The men nod as they head out, leaving Codex and Singularity alone.

"Alright, what did you want to say?" Regan asks.

[Singularity]

Franklin visibly relaxes, obviously letting down some kind of guard, "Look, I wanted to tell you I was sorry about before. I know you have been through a lot and getting a person's emotional history at once must not be an easy thing to handle." Again, he drops his voice, "Especially my history."

His face turns open again, a genuine look of apology, "I hurt you and I want to make up for it, beyond my protection. Most people would offer material things, but I believe that would just be a joke." He thinks for a few seconds, reviewing options, "You and I both have some very negative memories. How about we build some positive memories? I do not even need to be there, I can simply help to facilitate the opportunities. I would offer to cook you dinner, but I only know how to cook in the field and I am told it is barely edible."

[Ghostwriter]

Regan nods slowly. "What have I got to lose?" she asks, her eyes bitter. "I'll take you up on your offer, Franklin, and if you think your cooking is bad, you should see mine."

[Singularity]

A smile flashes on Franklin's face, trying to blunt Codex's sharp look, "Then it is a good thing the two of us can last a long time without food, right?"

He leans back, opening his hands, "How about we travel to Greece then? I understand you are a student of history, maybe it would be nice to see the Pantheon, the trail to Marathon, Alexander the Great's birthplace. Assuming the bosses will let me out. If you like it, perhaps we can visit some other sites in the future."

[Ghostwriter]

"I've been to Greece," Codex immediately replies. "I went there in 2010 with Julie when we were both on leave."

[Singularity]

"Ok, bad idea," Franklin says, rubbing the back of his head before murmuring, "Should have expected that."

"How about a trip to some Mayan ruins I once found in South America. There will not even be tourists or any alterations from visiting archeologists. You could be the scientist to look at it."

[Ghostwriter]

Codex sighs. "My leg, remember? This brace is not for decoration. Besides, I am a historian, not an archaeologist. There's a big difference. But thanks for the suggestion."

[Singularity]

Franklin looks to the ceiling, exhaling deeply. "All right, maybe a different approach is a better idea."

He tips his head back down, a hesitent look on his face, "Well, I have some things I will need to move here from my place in Virginia soon. How about you come with and I take a shot at cooking with a kitchen? And I will be sure to have a backup plan for the meal just to be safe."

[Ghostwriter]

"Alright." Regan purses her lips. "Mendoza will be coming with us to help you move, barring any assignments or world problems. He's a warper, so you'll literally be able to toss things from your bedroom into your new room."

[Singularity]

Franklin smiles, looking relieved, "Well then, I guess I had better look into quaters here. Hopefully you can give me a few suggestions on good neighborhoods here in the arcology or the quality of the Project's living areas. Oh, and let me know if you or Mendoza have any eating habits or issues I need to avoid, like allergies or vegetarian preferences."

He suddenly gets an expression of surprise, then turns serious. "I have one issue I need to clear up with you right now. You might outrank me here and I am placing your safety above mine at all times, but when bullets start to fly, I need you to listen to me and trust me." His clothing subtely tightens against his defined frame, his bearing becoming more disciplined again, "I have more experience than you in combat. I might hate it, but I am a master at it, all right?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Of course. What do you take me for, an idiot?" Regan snaps. "I'm autistic, not brain-dead!"