Freddie stood there for a short while after Agnes left him. What was he meant to be doing up here again? He couldn't remember. Wait, oh, there was a book in his hand that stimulated his memory; he was meant to be reading. But at the mention of food, his stomach made a unhappy grumble and he too decided that perhaps he too should go have a look what the cafeteria had to offer.

Agnes took one of her quickest showers ever - her stomach more or less screamed for food now that she had realized it. Clad in an orange tunic with a brown twisted belt on her hips, black leggins underneath (it was still winter, after all) and her impressively long hair twinned into one thick braid with curls sticking out from it, she descended to the cafeteria in less than 10 minutes. Scanning the area while she grabbed a tray, some simple scones and two full cups of coffee and juice, she quickly spotted Oakley.

"Hi!" she beamed and walked up to her, only then noticing that Emil's son was also sitting at the table. He stared at her as if he had no intention of greeting her back. Agnes just sighed but smiled as she sat down next to Oakley. At least his kind of 'cold' wasn't like Delta's. Agnes imagined he just had a lot to think about, so she kind of pitied him.

It was a short elevator ride down and despite the amount of times he had ridden it, Freddie still felt queasy as it touched on the bottom floor. He wobbled out and slowly made his way to the cafeteria. Like usual, the buffet held an assortment of bacon, eggs, milk, cereal, pancakes and whatever else could be eaten at breakfast. He took a few English muffins, sausages, scones and jam and scanned the area. There were a few empty tables, but Frederick noticed the familiar wave and beaming face of Agnes, sitting with Devon and the new girl, who Freddie had not met as of yet. With a nervous sigh, he made his way over, stepping carefully so that he didn't spill his food by tripping over his clumsy feet.

"Took you some time, fancylegs!" Agnes teased with a wink. Freddie made some kind of nervous whimper as he sat down next to her. She then turned back to the first residents of their table. "How are you schettling in?" she asked Oakley while chewing on a piece of scones.

"Okay," Oakley said with a small nod, "though I've only really met Mr. Bernot, Mr. Cooper and Devon here." Her nod turned into a shake. "Everybody seems so busy. Is it always like this?"

"Not usually." This time, it was Devon to speak up. "It's only because of what happened in Paris." Freddie was a little surprised to hear Devon string so many words together.

"Ah." Oakley scooped up a bit of spaghetti, taking bites which didn't really look like she was tasting, let alone eating it. She zoned out for a second, then remmebered that she was now surrounded by new people who she had not introduced herself to. How rude of her to forget! "Oh, sorry. My name is Oakley North. What are your names?" She aimed the question towards Agnes and Freddie. Surprisingly, Freddie was first to reply.

"F-Frederick Salusbury," Freddie blurted out a little too quickly. "But everybody here c-calls me F-Freddie."

"I'm Agnes Johansson, maybe you forgot!" Agnes said with a little giggle. "Then again, we didn't really introduce ourselves, I just overheard Delta saying your name yesterday. Sorry 'bout that."

She eyed Oakley a little more closely, with interest, and also glanced over at Devon. During her whole week here, she hadn't really talked with him. She wondered what made him speak up now. Did he fancy Oakley, maybe? Oh god, that would be so cute. Managing to suppress another giggle, she talked again.

"Freddie here used to be a teacher! A really smart guy. Well, I guess he's still really smart, despite looking a bit, um, sheepish. And I used to be just an average teenager in Stockholm, Sweden. I was doing parkour though! Great fun. Haven't gotten to practice that much here, but then again, who needs fancy running and jumping on rooftops when you can fly?"

She wiggled her eyebrows a little, as if she was proud of her Atlantean power for once. "Where do you come from, Oakley? And what exactly is your ability now? I didn't really catch that."

"Well..."

"It's rude to ask about people's abilities, you know," Devon butted in, a line creasing inbetween his eyes. Concerned eyes slowly fell upon him, but he kept his sour face. Freddie raised his eyebrows slowly at the Oakley shook her head, continuing what she said before.

"No, it's okay," she waved the negativity away with her hands. "I was born in Toronto, and I've lived in London for a while but before this," she gestured to the headquarters as if it was a symbol of all the Atlantean stuff that had happened, "I lived here. Not here but in an Academy, in Toulouse. As for my ability, um..."

She raised her right arm onto the table. Thanks to the Librarian's necklace (which she had not taken off), she had been able to keep her armour at bay. With an exhale and a crease in her brow, she tried to concentrate. At first, there was nothing, and Oakley just felt herself get a hot face. Then, she increased the pace of her breaths, like she was going on a run, until slowly, like she was growing scales, metal started to grow over the skin. It stung, like splinters in her hand, until it reached just her palm. The skin around hand and just up her arm had bruised and turned black and thick, like it was heavily calloused. Her hand had also expanded as well, but she knew if she let it go to her shoulder, she wouldn't be able to eat anymore of her breakfast.

"That's... pretty cool." Devon's raised eyebrows and impressed nod made Oakley blush. She assumed, being the son of the guy who was the head of this organisation, that he had seen a fair few abiltiies in his life time.

Agnes did more than raise eyebrows. When the armor began growing, she almost jumped out of her seat, making her cups of coffee dance dangerously on the table. "Wow," she said. "Some kind of armor? You are, like, the invincible girl. That's amazing, Oakley!"

She sat down properly again with an apologizing smile to Freddie, and then shot Devon a curious look. "Why would it be rude to ask? Sorry, I still don't understand all Atlantean taboos and dos and donts. I was born human, you know?" She meant it like a joke and winked to him across the table.

"It's like a form of trust," Devon said, his eyes moving to Agnes, unblinking. "That's what my dad told me. Like telling someone something personal, or a secret. That's what it's meant to mean. But it means different things to different people."

"I r-read that in o-old Atlantis, the only people who-who knew your abilities, was f-family, l-l-lovers and your closest friends," Freddie added.

"Where'd you read that?" Devon shot back, almost accusingly. Freddie was caught a little off guard.

"I-In the library?"

"Hm."

"Wow, so there are actual texts from the time where Atlanteans lived? I mean, we're alive now of course, but I mean with their Atlantean civilization? That's so cool!" Agnes smiled widely. "I haven't even checked out the library yet. I don't usually read much, I guess."

"You d-don't r-r-read?" Freddie whispered, almost in shock, but went ignored.

She turned to Devon. "And yeah, I can understand that, I guess. Sorry. But at least that means I trust Oakley then? Or wait. Maybe it means she trusts me if she tells me. Hang on, I think I need more coffee to wrap my head around this."

She sure didn't feel like the brightest person around in early mornings. Even though it wasn't even early anymore. After emptying her second cup, she asked if any of the others wanted to join her for some gun training. It was the only part of their training here that Agnes felt she really grasped, but she didn't tell them that. Oakley agreed (having never handled a gun before) and Devon and Freddie piped up that they would come and watch (since they really didn't have anything else to do anyway) so when all had finished eating, they wandered on over to the training rooms, with Devon leading the way. The rooms were all empty, so Devon picked a room at random, being 1B.

All of the weaponry were in the cupboards at the far end and with a flick of a switch, a bunch of targets appeared on the back wall. Oakley was unsure what she was allowed to touch, so she let Agnes go first. Devon and Freddie had made themselves comfortable at the edge of the room, as far from the targets as they could safely get.

Agnes held a gun in her hands, steady with both of them. She felt the yet cold metal against her skin and just as it had done in Paris, it made her feel strangely safe. Back when she had been living with her father in a tiny town in Sweden, she wouldn't have dreamed of touching a gun. Why would people need guns really? Stupid things that could get you killed. But now it was different. In a world where people could shoot fire or ice from their fingertips, a girl with no fancy Atlantean armor or superspeed needed some kind of comfort. She needed a pistol.

Flashing Oakley a reassuring smile, she stepped up to the shooting lane. The room was silent and Agnes felt the staring looks of Devon and the others in her neck. Freddie had watched her fire before, even though he hadn't liked it much at all. She had never seen Devon in here though, but just assumed that he had, despite his age, seen gunfire before this day.

This was just training, anyways. Nothing dangerous. Even though she had been strictly told to always remember that a gun was dangerous and shouldn't be treated as a harmless toy, she didn't feel scared or overly respectful now. The thing she held in her hands was just a metal item with technology that could fling a metal bullet at high velocity against the opposite wall.

She aimed, and fired. And missed. The bullet hit just outside the outlines of a body on the target plate. Her smile fell.

"Just unlucky," she said and raised the gun once more. More focused this time. She felt the silence in the air around her, and thought about flying through the skies of Stockholm. She missed Stockholm. But she wouldn't miss this target.

The trigger was pulled, the bullet was fired. The air between the gun and the mark on the other side of the room was clear - ventilation in the training rooms was always good. No distractions, no hindrances. Just plain, free air and a straight line between Agnes and her target. She watched it happen in slow motion. Saw that the trajectory of the bullet was not completely as straight as she had wanted it to be. Her hand had moved a little just as she pulled the trigger. That wouldn't do. She wasn't going to miss this time. The bullet needed to go left. Just a little. Just a little more straight towards that mark on the target where she had intended for it to hit...

Full score. A perfect headshot. Agnes dropped her jaw but quickly closed her mouth again and lowered the gun while clearing her throat. "That's how it's done!"

She didn't feel as good as she looked though. Part of her was overjoyed that she seemed to be able to do something this well. But another part knew that out in the field, face to face with a live target, she wouldn't be able to focus this much. She might not even be able to fire. She was not like Delta.
​

These two recruits seemed... well, happy that Julian had accompanied them, but didn't spend a lot of time talking to him. Actually, they failed to notice or acknowledge him after their initial reaction to his 'can I help you?' for a short while, but Julian didn't mind. He just followed behind them, listening to their conversation. He felt a bit rude that he was, but then again, he couldn't help that his hearing was stronger than the average Joe.

"We're not going to keep Spectacles around, are we?"

"It's best not."

"He seems like he's legally blind or something. A few twist and turns ought to lose him. If we do it quietly."

Julian gave a smile. He only assumed that meant him. True, his glasses were thick. Nobody had called him that before. Well, not within his hearing range, which had quite a radius, mind you. A crowd seemed to come within hearing distance which was a shame, as pinpointing his hearing became harder the more sounds that came into the equation. Harder, but not impossible.

The two entered the crowd, but Julian didn't bother following them. Instead, using the noise the crowd was making and using the vibrations under his feet, he could feel the backstreet that went behind the crowd and popped out the other side. Casually, he took the backstreet, listening to the shouts from a block away. They weren't particularly friendly, but Julian didn't blame them after what had happened in Paris. He had seen the hurt being taken into the wards, both Atlantean and normal people. It did make him sad; sad for Atlanteans, sad for the angry humans and sad for everyone else in the inbetween. He wished both parties would understand eachothers anguish and that this war that was forming could quickly be snuffed out.

He wished. Wars rarely ended kindly.

He felt Delta and Dom's presence again and turned down into an alley, only to have a man (Julian's heightened sense of smell practically exploded at the slightest whiff. Boy, did this man need a shower) run into him, Julian's largeness no match for this weak thing of a man, falling back as soon as he had collided.

"Are you alright, sir?" Julian asked kindly, offering a hand to the man.

"That f*cker!" Julian then recoiled his hand at the shout, and stood up straight, feeling the sudden warmth and hearing the loud and echoing footsteps of Dom running into the alley.

"What's going on here?"​

Dominique ran into the alley after the dirty conman despite his repulsiveness. The heat that came off of Dom felt like a close brother to the dry, burning rays of summer days. It may have been refreshing in cold November if the heat came from the sun instead of a Frenchman. When he entered the alley, he skidded to a halt; not because of the conman but because of an old friend.

"Spectacles!" He said under his breath like a curse. Where did the blind man come from? Especially in such a sneaky way. If they hadn't run into the filthy thief the old bat may have cut them off on the street mid-conversation. Dom would have wondered how he did it, but the hadn't-bathed-in-a-month pickpocket had been stopped, somehow, by the same old Spectacles. His skill in capture was on par with his navigation, it seemed.

"What's going on here?" Spectacles asked, as if the injustice wasn't clear.

"Personal," Dom answered. "Real personal. Step aside, Velma."

"Now, let's not be hasty." Julian stood his ground, feeling the heat obviously emitting from Dominique. The man skittered and went to make a run for it, only to be caught on the shoulder by Julian. His hand was steady. He wasn't letting anybody leave until the matter was solved. "Tell me what happened."

"He tried to sell us some cheap watches and ended up stealing mine, that's what." Spectacle's lack of a simple "ok" made Dom a little more heated. If he had to wait much more his core might start its own fiery reenactment of Paris.

"Liar! Protect me from this thug!" The man spoke quickly in his native language, French, and shuffled something from his hand to a nearby pocket before taking a step behind Julian, a safer place to be at.

Determination is what made Delta followed after Dom into the nearby alley where the man had turned to after what seemed like a goodbye. Upon entering she saw an unexpected sight, Spectacles. Their sitter was currently standing next to the man that Dom seemed to be after. His transition into rage had been a fast one, and Delta didn't even know the reason why. How Spectacles followed them all the way here was indeed a mystery, Delta assumed that it had something to do with his powers. Though why they needed a babysitter in the first place was another question.

The heat Delta felt as she walked closer to Dom was familiar; it was the same high intensity heat she felt in Paris when they came across his body. Taking a step back wasn't an option however, even if she was in all black leather clothing. For once she kept her mouth shut, right now Delta was more eager to see if Dom came to blows with either of the men here.

"Thug? Perhaps. But liar?" Julian, in one quick movement, grabbed the man by his arm and raised it, doing his best not to hurt him in the process. His jacket slid down and the watches were revealed. Three expensive looking watches. The heavy ticking was hard to miss for someone like Julian. "I'm afraid not. Please return what you have stolen."

Caught in Julian's sturdy grip the man struggled and after that was deemed a failure he then resorted to spatting out explicit phrases. They were directed at not only Julian but to Dom as well. Dom's watch became present in his only moveable hand, but what he did next was simply out of revenge. With a thud the watch dropped to the floor while the man tried his best to look absent-minded as it did, but not before slamming a foot down onto it.

"How did that get under my foot?" The man's face had a cheeky smile on it, as he was clearly enjoying himself.

"Now that was rather impolite." Julian frowned, his grip unbreakable on the man's wrist.

Rather impolite!? The scale was tipped; every straw had been dumped and those two were sipping on the last one like they were a young couple with a milkshake. Dom's anger didn't rise, it jumped--so high it was, not double, but quintuple. And jumps like that were bad.

It didn't happen slowly. It happened quickly. Black skin and tacky clothes suddenly turned orange, red. Fire. Everywhere. All over him. It didn't take a moment, not a second. A blink. He was the Titan in Paris: Pyromaniac.

"Get. Out. Of the way." The heat matched his anger. Each non-compliant moment made Dom all the more furious.

"You're… You… Atlantean!" A long, drawn in gasp came from the man's mouth. His body posture quickly switched to defensive, as he tried to shield his face from the violent burst of heat and flames with his arm. However his heighten curiosity wouldn't allow for him to completely remove his eyes from the dazzling scene before him. The oranges, reds, and yellows all reflected in his eyes as he stared in shock. The amount of anger in Dominique's voice frighten the man, never had he come across an Atlantean. Fear had firmly planted itself in the man's mind; the thought of instant incineration was too much to bare.

He put all his strength into fighting Julian's grip before he went to his last resort, loud cries for help. "Help! Atlantean attack! He's going to kill me!"

"You do realize he's going to tell this story to every newspaper that will listen to him, right?" Delta chimed in from a distance, she had thankfully taken several steps backwards once she saw what the man did to Dom's watch. It was obviously a sentimental object, which much was clear by his reaction the first time around. The question was more so rhetorically as the answer was more than obvious. "We need to kill him, it's our only option."

"It is not our only option. You always have a choice, Ms. Mayor." Julian had no troubles keeping the man at bay. He was thin and weak, and would most likely hurt himself if he kept struggling. Julian meant the man no harm. "Please, calm down, sir." He said to the man in French.

"Somebody help!!" The man cried out again. Of course, nobody would hear him, because of the crowd around the bend, but he was going to break his arm at this pace. Julian felt his hands grow hot; the man was giving himself a friction burn. What a strange man. First, he mocks poor Dominique then screams for his life. France was certainly a strange place. "They're going to kill me!"

Julian sighed. Either this man would hurt himself, or the fuming Dominique would. With his free hand, Julian squeezed at the man's neck with a surgeon's precision, the man falling instantly asleep as he did. He scooped him up as he fell, bending over and picking up the stomped watch in the process, handing it back to Dominique.

"There is no need for any kind of violence. No one will trust this man's words, especially with a sleepy haze covering the truth. Not even himself. Now would you please tell me what you two are doing out here, so I can help you."

The grimy conman screamed and shouted when the fire took over Dom's body. Good, Dom thought. He deserved to be scared. Things didn't happen to people for no reason and his spiteful little ass would get his just deserts. Delta had the same idea, though her reasons were less personal than his. Dom didn't quite want to kill the man, just burn him into well-cooked dust. He definitely had the support and the reasons to go through with it. Everyone here was in agreement. Well, everyone except Spectacles. He had a knack for saying no. Dom didn't like people who insisted on disagreeing.

Spectacles, as annoying he was, revealed once again how oddly talented he was. The conman's worthless shouting was cut short by masterful slight-of-hand. He would have added it to the checklist, but his thoughts were red. Spectacles returned his watch with a few words attached. For a moment, Dom had no clue what to do. He hated it when people touched his watch--hated it. But it was being returned and his hands... Dom looked at them, but couldn't see them. Not passed the fire, anyway. He was hot, terribly hot. It was plain to see even if he couldn't feel it. Could he even...?

Dom furrowed his brow. Of course he could. He snatched the watch out of Spectacles' hand and immediately it was engulfed. It would be fine, though. It hadn't melted before, hadn't even burned. It never did. It wouldn't now. And yet...

It wasn't cold. Not for long, anyway. It was supposed to be cold. It was always cold. What the hell was going on?

If there was something that constantly bugged Delta it was the fact that the Atlantean Unification Project knew too much about her. She had never once spoken her entire first name, yet they already knew it and it now went for her last name too. It was information she didn't want out there, but now here it was. Apparently the higher ups thought it was necessary to brief everyone on her details. What else did they know about her? How far had they dug into her life? It unnerved her, anger soon formed and clouded her thoughts almost as if someone had waved a giant red flag in front of her face and she was now charging.

Delta's advancement towards Julian was fast; her face had contorted until its feature displayed a full range of rage that could've rivaled Dom's. She didn't flinch when she positioned herself next to Dom, "I promise you if you ever call me that again even the vultures that call themselves the Royal Family won't pick at your remains." As if to emphasize her point Delta slammed her fist, which she had crystallized moments before, into the nearby wall of a building, cement pieces chipped off fell and lay at her boots. With her teeth tightly clenched she began again, "Another thing, we don't need you. You get that, right? You're only here because you're some pathetic babysitter-lackey and the Unification Project thinks they must have some sort of hold over us at all times."

"How does that feel? Knowing you have a role that makes you essentially no better than a babysitter? I mean you couldn't be that important if you're here with us. Tell me, is that what you signed up for? To be a grunt that watches over new recruits?" Delta crossed her arms and sneered at him, enjoying every second of her tirade. The words were crafted to hurt, to show that she meant her threat and that she didn't care about the target. She ultimately wanted him gone, be it death or out of her sight either was a perfectly acceptable outcome to Delta.

Julian sighed and looked back at her. Her words did not hurt him. He had enough abuse in his lifetime to ignore petty insults, whether they were about his skin, his clothing, his family, his sexuality or his ability. But there was something about her that worried Julian. Something that reminded him of someone.

"Have you already spoken to Imogen, then?"

Dom didn't hear the argument going on around him, his eyes were stuck on the watch he couldn't see, could no longer feel. There was nothing distinctive about it but the weight in his palm. Why the hell wasn't it cold!?

His mind ached from his efforts but no matter what the flames would not move, they would not cool, they would not keep his watch safe. Anxiety and worry climbed over his anger. The fire cooled, the metal burned.

Sweat beaded on her brow, being around Dom was bothersome but she couldn't back away with appearing weak. Julian had successfully evaded all her questions without a single reaction. People didn't like to admit that they were weak, Delta had a habit of pointing it out to them on a regular basis. On mention of Imogen Delta concentrated on him, why had he brought up her name? She wasn't Imogen. Atticus had told her not to talk to Imogen but hadn't given her a solid reason why not. Not that she would ever actually listen to anything that Atticus told her.

"Tell me, why is it that everyone seems to care if I talk to Imogen or not?" It was a demand, which Delta wanted an answer to.

She was just like Oscar. Julian shook his head slowly. Atticus must have spoken to her as well.

"Imogen is smart, and she's a good asset to the Atlantean Unification Project. But she... has done some terrible things in the past. I'm not at liberty to say what, but please be cautious around her. Now," Julian heaved the man up a little further up his shoulder, "can you please tell me where you wish to go? I can help you find whatever you need. A lot faster than walking."

"Home," Dom answered, eyes not moving from the burned and melted watch. It had not turned into a puddle, there wasn't the time for that, but its fine cut had been diminished to liquefied, sloping edges and a fused band. The fine rose gold was either black or discolored in places. The glass over the clock sloped inward now, its indent that same rainbow color found on the edge of bubbles. It ticked still, but that was a shaky plus. He wouldn't be able to wear it comfortably again. He felt obligated to preserve the useless liquid metal around it.

The fire had left all but his clothes and even those flames were small ad suffocating. His clothes were burned, but not gone. The singe and ash probably made them look better anyhow.

"I'm not Imogen." Delta responded firmly, she wasn't.

This was the second time someone told her to be wary of Imogen. At least this time she knew it wasn't simply her attitude but because she had done something unspeakable. It was best to go directly to the source on this one and she would the next time they bumped into each other.

With the heat lowering Delta could think well, when she looked to the side she noticed Dom had fizzled out, no more flames. The fuel for his anger was unconscious in the hands of Spectacles, which was probably why he was no longer on fire. It was an impressive trick, here she thought he could only shoot fire out his palms. His clothes were ruined, but they hadn't done him any favors in the first place. She heard Dom answer Spectacles and was taken back. They didn't need him following especially if they were going to Dom's house. Delta would never allow them into her house.

"Are you sure you want him with us, in your home? I can make certain things happen for you to go alone…" Delta hadn't bothered to whisper she wanted Spectacles to hear.

"No, I don't want him there. I want him to take us there." Dominique waved his hand dismissively. "He and his friend can leave afterwards. I can walk back." If he wanted to go back, that is. "That's if you really can get us there faster," he said to Spectacles. "Significantly faster."

"Alright." Julian nodded. He told them to wait just a second, taking the smelly man to the end of the alley, where people were in sight, and laid him down against the wall. Somebody would notice him then, and make sure he was okay. Provided he wasn't going to be as hostile as he was before. Julian returned, to Dominique and Delta, shrugging off his coat and handing it to Dom. "You might catch a cold." He said with a warm smile.

Julian then rolled his arms back, unclipped a belt attached to his back and stretched out an pair of enormous, webbed wings, similar to a bat. They were dark, matching his skin and the joints were built like his arms; strong and firm. His wingspan was probably close to five or six meters when he stretched his wings right out. He gave them both a pleasant smile.

"One of you can sit on my shoulders and I can hold the other in my hands. Don't be nervous, I've done this before." His wings folded back comfortably behind his back. "Where would you like to go?"
​

Dinner was one of the few meals in which all of the Atlantean Royal Family members gathered in one room together. It was a leftover tradition from the old Atlantean times when dinner was considered a great festivity and entire towns ate together under the lights of the stars. Alas there were a lot less Atlanteans back then, compared with the sixty odd students the Mansion currently housed. A wide array of varying global foods lined his plate as Leo surveyed the murmuring waves of student that sat around the dining room. Given access to any food whatsoever, and their chef, Kylie, could whip up any and every meal known to mankind and more; her rather bizarre but extraordinary culinary ability. Above him, the lights shone brightly, however they did not compare to the likeness of the stars he remembered out on his Grandfathers' farm in the rural areas of northern Portugal. He was still reeling from the death of his brother, the boy's death weighing heavily on his heart, but he had the students before him as family now, and he was going to make sure all of them were safe and sound. His only regret not having found out about his brother's plan sooner. The world outside was a harsh one, it was even more dangerous now with the growing outside concern of the abilities several Atlanteans possessed. While the government promised they would not interfere with the students in his care, he doubted heavily their sincerity.

Amongst the crowd, he spotted the tall American known as James Hazen; the kid had caused quite a stir in the media lately, putting the Atlantean Royal Family in a trouble spot. The American government wanted Leo to hand him over on a silver platter, but he had his own personal experiences to know that James wouldn't get far alive. As far as Leo was concerned, James was a student here, and would receive the same treatment as everyone else, not matter what his past. Not that James would even let them take him anywhere; the man was a bomb waiting to explode. Nonetheless, Leo would do all that he could within his abilities to keep them all safe, no matter what their pasts. They were Atlanteans, they all belonged here.

Tapping his glass lightly with the back of his knife, he rose from his seat, garnering everyone's attention, even the surprised gaze of his fellow Royal Family members, "Everyone, I hope you have enjoyed your day off following yesterday's disaster. I just want to remind you all that, as long as this mansion stands, it remains a safe haven for any Atlantean. My colleagues and I would like to formally welcome the new students to our ranks." Leo started a round of applause that soon spread like wild fire. When he had finished, he raised his glass before drinking deeply and sitting back down. This mansion was as much their home as it was his, and they all just needed the subtle reminder that it was.​

The overcast cloud covered the majority of the sky, leaving the fields patchy with moonlight. They provided ample cover as the special unit task force moved into position at the west side of the Atlantean property. Clad in black armour, they carried assault rifles loaded with enough tranquiliser to kill your average human, enough to knock out an Atlantean for enough hours to transport them safely. Communicating through hand signals, they soon set themselves up along the fence line, waiting for the radio-in from the other two groups.

"West Unit, this is North Unit, in position and ready on your command."

"West Unit, this is East Unit, in position and ready on your command."

In the distance he could vaguely see the shrouded outlines of the northern unit, the eastern unit on the other side of the mansion. Bringing the radio to his mouth, the man spoke deeply, "All units shoot to capture, take one at a time, do not initiate. I repeat, do not initiate. All go on my count."

"One," Behind him came the snapping of clips as everyone loaded their guns and flicked off the safety catch.

"Two," the dark figures raised up, ten figures to a unit as they crouched, guns raised and goggles glowing green like aliens in the night.

"Three," making very little sound, the thirty odd special unit task force soldiers moved forward, almost floating through the grass like tall, dark ghosts. They had all been informed of the schematics for the Royal Mansion, heading directly up the staircases inside the arms of the mansion, spreading between the second and third floors.

It was early in the morning, and the short brown Louisianan girl known to most as 'Anna Louise' returned to her room from the bathroom. She had eaten so much last night that it felt like the meal was going to burst from her stomach, making it hard for her to get to sleep. But once relieved, she felt ready to fall straight asleep, ready for class tomorrow morning. She had to rub her eyes as the green-eyed shadow seemingly detached itself from the wall. The moment she saw the nozzle of the gun poke out, she let out a shrill scream before her body convulsed, cutting the scream short. Around her, chaos erupted as students opened their doors to see what the commotion was about and muzzle flashes light up the hallway. Students fought back at the shrouded figures before being knocked out while others fled through windows and past any soldiers they could. It didn't take long for the Royal Family members to become aware of the commotion, sprinting up the staircases as quick as they could to help out the students. Before long, a third of the students had been kidnapped and taken into the night, the Royal Family reeling from the sudden attack.

With the remaining students hiding out in the below ground recreation room, Justin and the other Royal Family members set the room up as a temporary place for students to sleep and relax before they investigated the rest of the house and sorted out this intrusion. Justin kept watch over the stair access while River made the rounds, calming the more hysterical students. Edward made his rounds with the younger students while Katerina busied herself with the older students as Leo skulked in the corner, phone pressed to his ear. This was going to be a long night.​

From the rooftop, Wyatt could see the rather underwhelmed police force of northern Birmingham as they surrounded the bank in the building below him. They were at an impasse on the situation, yet it was one guy versus an entire division of police officers. They were weak, useless humans and would only serve to get in his way if they decided to do anything rash. Hopefully though, they would stay out of it and try to negotiate long enough for Wyatt to get in and get out with the package he had come here to collect. With bow and quiver slung over his back, he picked his way stealthily over to roof, skirting his vision over the different air vents until he came to one that would allow him passage. Taking the grating off, he launched himself into the vent feet first, sliding through in his Syndicate issued, anti-friction, Kevlar fortified clothing.

The vent-slide didn't last long, with Wyatt coming crashing through the rooftop vent and into a room that looked like it belonged to some pencil pusher. The boots that came with the uniform lessened the shock as he hit the ground, but he still felt the electrifying feeling rush up his legs as he touched down. Drawing the compound bow from his shoulder, he notched an arrow and sunk to his knees, crouching just below eye level over top of the desks.

"Now that you're in, the safe is on the level below, stairwell out the door and to the right." The Directive spoke into his ear, "He has four hostages located behind the teller tills. Once you have him secured, call out and Jeremy will be there to spirit you out."

"Sure sure, Boss," Wyatt spoke sarcastically, he knew he had this in the bag, "just leave it to me."

Looking at the floor between his feet, Wyatt began concentrating his vision, willing his ability to work as the floor below him and desks beside him slowly began to fade out of existence. From his vantage point he could easily see the layout of the floor below, the four hostages lying foetal beneath his feet and the well-built thief rapidly punching the large door to the vault. Moving on, Wyatt made his way down the steps, slowly as not to make too much noise before creeping into to the room just right of the thief's position.

Pulling the bowstring back, Wyatt stood up, arching the shot, letting it fire straight into the shoulder blade of the thief. Wyatt crouched back down as the man roared, swinging his metallic fists around in rage.

Dragging an elderly bank teller to her knees, he clamped a metal hand around her throat, choking the poor lady as he squeezed tighter. "Come out, or I'll kill them one after another!" He roared again in his northern Irish accent.

Given no choice in the matter, Wyatt stepped up and out, notching an arrow and holding it level with the man's eye socket. "Put her down now, I only want to talk!"

"Oh, so 'ere he is, Birgmingham's own Dark Archer," the thief's smiled contorted into contempt, almost as if he was trying to bring Wyatt out of hiding. "People 'round 'ere are calling you a hero, but you're nothing more than a man hiding behind a bow." He gripped the teller's throat tighter.

Letting the arrow go, it hit the man on the back of the hand he used to hold the teller's throat, causing it to open and the teller and arrow to drop to the floor. Before she could move any further, a steel foot pushed her chest into the ground as Wyatt drew a new arrow. "Now without the wall between us, we can talk."

"Aggression is not talking, y'know?" Wyatt watched as the thief's entire body turned from his pale white complexion, to a steely grey similar to that of the bank's vault. "What do you want with me anyway? I'm not one to be a sidekick."

"I'm not too sure about being a sidekick, but I work for a company, the Syndicate, we know about you and your ability. So we drew you here, knew you couldn't resist the opportunity." Wyatt lowered the arrow, holding the bow at his side in a show of the words he spoke.

The thief's skin returned to normal, all except his arms which retained their steely colour, "Why does this 'Syndicate' want me anyways?"

"All I know is, you're important, and they want you to join us." Wyatt didn't even know why they recruited himself; it was an even bigger mystery than this whole Atlantean business anyway. Aside from his single conference with Mister Stagg, the only other seemingly high ranking person he dealt with was the Directive and even he didn't seem like he knew much.

"What do I get out of it?" he asked, his voice becoming less aggressive and fuller of intrigue.

"Unlimited money, training, and the ability to influence the world. Seem good enough for you?" Wyatt smiled, exactly the same reason he had decided in the end to join them. Wyatt strung the bow over his shoulder, walking slowly forward with hand outstretched, "the name's Wyatt, Wyatt Cale."

A cold, steel hand gripped Wyatt's tightly as the two shook, "Seamus Moran. How're we gonna get out of this situation, Wyatt?"

"Jeremy?" Wyatt called into his sleeve, the young Canadian boy appearing two seconds later.​

Fresh from his shower following morning training, Wyatt joined the newly recruited Seamus and his other 'workmates' in their commonly shared room within the Syndicate Headquarters, most of which were eating breakfast at the table while Jeremy and young Fletcher sat watching cartoons on the couch. He joined the others at the table, grabbing a bowl and pouring his milk in before the cereal.

"I told you he was weird," October called out from across the table at Seamus as she gently caressed one of Adrian's arms.

"I'm not weird, just different," was the entire rebuttal he could come up with.

"I won't be agreeing with you lot 'bout it bein weird, but I prefer my cereal with the milk last," Seamus chuckled a bit with the others, only slightly alienating Wyatt. It hadn't taken him long to become acquainted with the other Atlanteans in the Syndicate, and Seamus was only just beginning to enjoy his stay. "So you have four arms, yeah?" He affirmed with Adrian, "the little boy can make invisible bubbles and the other one can teleport, yeah?" He motioned to Fletcher and Jeremy respectively.

"I, can cause seismic activity," October spoke over top, asserting her influence and power, "and wonder boy here can see in the dark," she added in for Wyatt.

"It's more than that…" Wyatt didn't have time before the Directive strolled through the elevator doors, calling out his name.

"Wyatt, Jeremy, Adrian, you all need to follow me. October, take Seamus down to the lab for training after breakfast." The Directives face was blank as always when dealing with the lot of them, voice monotone to assert his authority.

"Aye aye, Captain," October murmured sarcastically beneath her breath followed by a half-hearted salute as she watched her boyfriend leave with the Directive. She wasn't overtly fond of the new kid, but something about him made her want to give him a chance. Unlike Wyatt.

When the doors behind them closed, Seamus turned to October, "Oh, the things I would do to your boyfriend," concluding with a wink. From the couch, Jeremy stifled a snort as he imagined the exact expression of surprise now showing on October's face.​

It was dinner time for the Family, and one of Austin's favorite times of the day. Delicious food, and enough of it to fill his belly, lined the tables of the dining room. Today, Austin ate Mexican food, something he didn't eat a lot back home.

George was arguing with Austin's other acquaintance, Garrett, across the table.

"No way, James would've been toast. You can't beat Oliver with just lightning! He absorbs power for Christ's sake."

"No, even though Oliver takes some of the power it could still hurt him.And besides, James would have beaten him in a fist fight."

"Have you even seen Oliver? The guy's ripped!"

"He is not."

"Yes I swear! He beat Melvin in a fight last week!"

"He didn't fight Melvin, dude he wasn't even here most of the time."

"That's not what Melvin said..."

They bickered on like this for a while longer, then quieted Leo called the room to attention, "Everyone, I hope you have enjoyed your day off following yesterday's disaster. I just want to remind you all that, as long as this mansion stands, it remains a safe haven for any Atlantean. My colleagues and I would like to formally welcome the new students to our ranks." The dining room erupted in applause. No doubt James had made some fans with his stunt earlier.​

Austin woke with a start. Rubbing his eyes, he started to roll over to resume sleep, assuming he had just had a nightmare, when he heard the scream again. Doors slamming open followed, and he quickly jumped out of bed. He threw on a pair of gym shorts before opening his own door. Outside it was dark, but suddenly flashes started to illuminate the halls. Students left and right dropped to the floor.

Stunned, Austin could only watch. He only sprang back to life when the guns were pointed at him. Quickly, he slammed his door shut as bullets lodged into the wood. He turned and climbed onto his bed. He looked up, jumped, and grabbed hold of one of the ventilation panels in his ceiling. He pushed out a different panel nearby and climbed up into the shaft. He started to scale the wall and pull himself up into the horizontal part of the shaft when he heard his door being kicked down.

"Sh*t!"

Austin crawled quickly above the conjoining rooms, only stopping at a dead end.

This must be the out-most room, with a window.

He dropped onto the floor from the ceiling, and quickly opened the window. He glanced back, and seeing nobody in the room, he jumped through. He started running as soon as he hit the grass, but outside he was only greeted by more guys with guns. Nobody moved for a few seconds.

"Ah, fuc-"​

"Mmrmmph."

Austin lazily opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, but he could tell he was surrounded by a bunch of dark skinned, shirtless dudes...

Wait, was that Jesus? No, just another Asian kid. Hold on, these pants are magic. Or, no. Wait, hold up.

Something's not right. Why are my pants blue they were indigo earlier...Or were they green? Actually, that is Jesus. Wait, no, another Asian. But wasn't Jesus black? Why is this Jesus Asian are there more Jes....My pants are green. No they're not dude, they're f*cking black open your eyes.

Austin tried to focus on the magic Jesus in black shorts, but he couldn't pick him out. From the, uh. Asians. Why do they all look the same? Austin looked left. All the Asians focused inward to the right. Oh. Oh...

It is Jesus.

No, ****ass it's you. They're obviously clones. Austin looked at his clones.

"Looks like we're in a bucket, huh?" His clones moved their mouths but didn't talk. Rage.

"No! They cut your vocal chords!" Wide eyed, Austin started frantically searching the room. His eyes passed a darker clone.

Oh my god, they tried to burn him alive! Austin struggled to move, to run to his comrades, but it was pointless. His arms and legs were chained to a metal frame looking thing, resembling a Crucifixion Christ-like position.

"THEY GOT ME!' Austin violently shook, and his clones started writhing.

"STOP HURTING THEM!" Austin tried to move, but couldn't. Exhausted, he gave up, and drifted back to sleep.

When he woke again, his mind was clearer. His head hung low, making his chin touch his chest. He slowly pulled it up, neck aching. Immediately he noticed he was staring at himself. A mirror. No, several mirrors. As he looked about, it seemed that a system of elaborately place mirrors focused on his scattered to cell he was in. Dozens of Austins Looked back at him. Great.

"Hello?" He called out. No answer.

"Hey, my arm's stuck, can someone help me?" He said, sarcastically, "If you did that would be on-point."
​

The night had been a peaceful kind of one. Members who had been absent during the morning had resurfaced for dinner, tired and very much looking forward to sleeping. It seemed that whatever the higher ups had been doing to sort out the problem in Paris, the majority of it had been settled.

The cafeteria was bustling with energy, rambitious members clinking glasses and shouting bouts of 'cheers!'. All members who had tried to sneak away had been dragged back to dinner.

"We have much to drink about." Emil stood towards the end of the evening, raising his glass for a toast. "Milestones to celebrate. Comrades to mourn. Recruits to welcome. Members to congratulate. Stories to remember." His eyes travelled all around the room, acknowledging the existence of every single member of his cause.

Atticus stood up, raising his glass. "To friends and family. New, old, lost and found."

"To good health and good fortune," Julian said, standing by his friend.

"To all ov our cherished memories! Good! Bad! Happy! Sad!" Misha boomed, toppling his chair as he stood.

"To winning this war and crushing those who threaten us," Imogen piped up, refusing to stand. She felt a few wary eyes on her and smirked.

"To learning from our mistakes." Annie, unable to stand, raised her glass high.

"To peace." Cooper stood.

"To peace!" Emil echoed. A large round of cheers erupted from the room. Dinner ended slowly after this, members leaving to drag themselves to bed.

Devon watched from the corner, his lips curling into a smile. His father seemed so happy. It had been a long time since he had seen him so geniune, and not just the kind smile he gave to his members to feed them hope.

"Are you crying?" Oakley turned to him, noticing the light reflect from the wet on his face. Devon sniffed, rubbing his face with his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." He swallowed his emotions back down. "I just miss what the world used to be. I miss my mum."

"Me too."​

"What's wrong?" Emil burst through the doors of the Big Room, tugging his sleeping robe right around his waist. Natalia Zaytsev appeared behind him almost immediately, her face serious, not showing a hint of the worry that she felt.

"Annie spotted this last night." She stode over to one of the larger monitors, thrusting a finger at the direct middle. It looked like a bird's eye view of the Royal Family Mansion. They were obviously keeping tabs on their enemies, but Emil couldn't see anything.

"What?" Emil shook his head. "What is it?"

"The cavalry. This is a recording of heavily armed forces kidnapping Atlantean children directly from the Atlantean mansion. You can't see anything because they're dressed in black, but," she flicked a switch, turning on the infrared scanners. Emil blinked and took a few steps closer. They were as bright as day now; teams of men from all sides of the Mansion were closing in, some disappearing inside the building, "they're there."

"Who is doing this?"

"We don't know," Annie said, wheeling herself over to Emil and Natalia. "Another Atlantean group? Librarian? The Government? It's not too clear yet."

"Can't be Atlanteans." Emil shook his head. "They wouldn't use guns. And the Librarian isn't known to be so obvious. Not this obvious. How long ago did this happen?"

"Maybe two, three hours ago." There was a few moments of silent. "What do we do?"

"Let them have it," Imogen almost spat. Emil turned around at the sound of her voice. She was waltzing in, a big fat smirk on her face, Cooper following soon after. "They deserve it." Emil gave her a disappointing glance, something that she was used to.

"We follow them." Cooper stopped beside Emil, staring at the image on the screen. "And we help them. A favour from the Royal Family is not something you can put a price on. And we could even convert some members while we're there."

"Are you serious?" Atticus appeared, Julian and Misha in tow. Word seemed to travel fairly fast. "You can't seriously be considering this? People could die on a mission like this!"

"Die?" Imogen pouted. "What, don't you trust us, Atticus? We won't screw up like you did with your family."

"Shut it, bitc--"

"Enough! The both of you!" Cooper stepped in, his voice enough to stop the two in their tracks. Atticus swallowed his words, keeping an ugly stare focused on Imogen. She winked back and blew him a kiss. "They won't kill us. If it's Atlanteans they want, they'll prioritise capturing. Why do you think they stormed the mansion in the first place?"

Emil sighed. He hoped for more than a full day of peace.

"We better wake the others, then."


The brief was short, but enough to let everybody know what was going on. There were a lot of grunts and groans; many had been up late last night drinking. Julian was doing what he could for those, mainly coffee and bacon.

"Alright," Atticus stood up, shaking his head. "Time to gear up and load up on the plane. Since we only have two, the first 50 able bodies are first. You can ask questions on the way. Let's move!" He sighed, brushing his hair with his fingers off his forehead. It was probably somewhere close to 6am right now, and he was much too tired to move, especially to help lead an assault on some facility in some place God knows where.

"Aw, Atticus, you look tired." A familiar voice made Atticus tense up. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone? Was this fun for her? He inhaled and tuned, his face souring up. Despite how beautiful Imogen was, Atticus knew how ugly she really was.

"Now now." He shook his head and looked away. "I'm busy. You're busy. You should be helping load up."

"You know I don't bother myself with that nonsense. That's for the small fry." She flicked her hair, in the annoying way that she did it. "Why are you even here, Atticus?"

"What does that mean?"

"You don't want to do this. You know this is wrong. So why don't you just opt out? You can do that you know." He looked up at her, her sickly sweet smile staring back. He frowned.

"Because I was told to. That's why."

"You're a good little soldier, is that it?" She rolled her eyes, stepping back from him. "Why do you follow orders so obiediently? After what happened to your family? After what you did to them? You make me sick, you know that?"

"Why are you saying this?" He stared at her. She wasn't always like this. When she joined, she was shy. Conservative. Unwilling. Far from confident. And now, that she could change her face, she was everything she wasn't. It was more than confidence though. Like somebody had stabbed her with a needle full of evil and it was slowly infecting her, the disease becoming stronger and taking her over. She smiled and pushed up her glasses.

"It's a wake up call. Because you obviously need one. See you around, monkey-boy." She added a wink and left him with his heavy thoughts.​

It had been countless days and nights that she spent in this cell, arms shackled tightly and strung up like some puppet above her head as she knelt on the cold steel floor. Weary from a combination of sleep deprivation, starvation and thirst, she bided her time with the patience her father taught her; the perseverance which would help her to last longer. Then again, why was she listening to the advice given to her by the bastard that had sold them out? Biting her lower lip, she buried that and every other feeling, hiding in the husk of her skin. Eyes closed, and she could vaguely hear the commotion from outside as the heavily footsteps dragged something, several some things, locking them in their own cells before retreating out of earshot. She only wondered what horrors they had to deal with.

'Snap'

"Ah, mother f*ckers!" She heard the Russian call out from the cell next to her, the sound of breaking bones sounding too unpleasant.

"Daemon, are you alright?" She shouted back in Russian at the wall connecting her cell to that of her brother's.

"Buuuuh," was all the response she got, but her heart skipped a beat as, despite the lack of response, it meant that her brother was still holding it together. She was the prodigious older sister, she felt obliged to care for and help her little brother, despite him being able to take care of himself.

Rattling the chains strung to her right hand, she succeeded in making it bang against the wall, hoping to stir whoever had been lucky enough to be stashed beside her. "Hey, are you alright?" she tried asking in English, understanding the stupidity of the question itself. They were being held captive in some freaky dungeon cell; of course they would not be 'alright'.​

Jeremy teleported into the conference room only seconds after Wyatt, Adrian and the Directive did, teleporting right into his favourite chair as it swung around with momentum. One look at the Directive's face told Wyatt that this next mission was a little more than pretending to be a hero. He wasn't bothered by the fact that it had been less than twenty-four hours since his last mission, but sitting around watching television or October and Adrian hook up wasn't exactly as exciting.

"Early this morning, the Atlantean Royal Family was attack by an as-of-yet unnamed military force operating within England. We believe they are some sort of task force created to deal with any possible Atlantean threat." Voice deep and to the point, the Directive was definitely leading towards something.

"So then why didn't the ARF doing anything about it? They do have some of the best abilities don't they?" Adrian asked, the Brazilian folding both sets of arms across his chest. Wyatt knew that Adrian had his own beef with the ARF, and wasn't too keen on helping them out.

"They were taken completely unaware, and unlike us, don't quite have the same resources at their disposal. They play by the rules; we don't."

"Then why are we inevitably going to help them? Last I heard they tried to out us, reveal the location and completely destroy the business." It was Jeremy's turn to ask the question. Wyatt knew he had been here a while, but still didn't know what kind of stakes he held in the company.

"Our agent within the ARF was taken as well; ultimately we need to restore them back into the ARF as well as this giving us one over the competition, so to speak." Jeremy and Adrian murmured in agreement as Wyatt continued to focus on the Directive's words. He wasn't too sure he really wanted to trust the Syndicate yet, but just being here to take what he could, would suffice for now. "A favour for the Royal Family would mean them being indebted to us. Something you can't put a price on."

Behind the Directive, the projectors buzzed into motion, creating a small, three dimensional layout in the middle of the table consisting of some shipyard with only one ship docked. "This is Portsmouth Harbour, a medium sized shipping port on the south shore of England. The bottom level of containers here are welded to the ship's deck, while all others stacked on top are mostly for cosmetic appearance to hide the bottom level. Jeremy will teleport you two into the harbour where you'll take out three guards and wear their clothes as disguise. Once done, you'll board the ship," the ship now replaced the shipyard in the projection, providing a closer view, "Once on, you're to secure enough of the ship to release the prisoners and aid their escape."

"How many?" Wyatt finally chimed in.

"About twenty odd, maybe more, maybe less. No matter whom they are or how many there are, you're to get them all off that ship. Once the ship passes outside of the English Channel, you're on your own, so make sure everyone is off the ship by then." With a slap of his hand on the wooden table, the projector ended and so did the meeting. Taking the elevator back to their quarters, they boys stood in silence, parting ways to get changed into their Syndicate-issued Kevlar uniform before meeting back in the common room.​

It was fast closing in on ten in the morning and despite being holed up safely in the below ground Recreation Room, people seldom slept as they waited for the inevitable wave two that would come for them. Yet it never came. At just after eight in the morning, Justin and the other Atlantean Royal Family members scouted the mansion and grounds but found no traces of the black troops. Even the ones taken down by themselves and students had somehow been spirited away, the only remains of their existence was the cosmetically damaged mansion they'd left behind. Students began filing out of the Recreation Room, heading upstairs to their bedrooms or over to the Dining Room to get what little food Barbara could churn out to the best of her ability.

"River, did you get anything from the soldiers?" dark rings circled around Leo's eyes as the five of them sat around the table in his room.

"Sorry Leo, I was more focussed on getting the kids to safety," she hung her head in shame, Justin didn't have to be a mind reader to know that she was worried about where her nephew had been taken.

"That's understandable, River," he sighed deeply before turning to Edward, "Do we know anything about who attacked us? All my political contacts are silent…"

Out of everybody in the room, Edward seemed like the less melancholic person almost as if he enjoyed the situation they were in, "As luck would have it, I've found a number of broken shells from the tranquilisers used. Doesn't say much, but should be easy enough to trace." The Welshman lay back in his chair smiling as they looked at the four casings now sitting on the table.

"So ve hav to go see Techno, yes?" the usually quite Katerina broke the silence.

"Correct, Justin Edward and River, you three will handle things here, keep the students busy and make sure families know they are still safe here," Leo, being the leader of the group, was always the one to give orders, but Justin always felt like Leo was especially disdainful of himself due to his age, "Katerina and I will go see Techno. Shouldn't take us long."

The meeting didn't last too much longer as they finished up discussion the rest of the politics of keeping the Royal Family going. Edward assured them that their treasury was going strong, but then Justin wasn't too sure if the man was telling the truth or not. He was a Welshman after all. River assured them that most of the students were feeling calmer than they were last night, and she was already helping some students through the stress. With meeting concluded, Katerina and Leo left in one of their many cars they had stored in their garage, leaving the three of them to run the mansion.

"Right, night guys!" Was all Edward said as he left Justin and River in the room together.​

The room was starting to feel cramped with the seven of them arranged on any furniture they could sit on, but their room was the only semi-private place they could assemble to talk. With the leaders of the Royal Family holding their own meeting, it was the perfect time to do the same. Garrett and George each sat on the desks with Rebecca and Oliver taking the chairs leaving the slightly younger Kaido standing in front of the door.

"Right, now that we're all here, we need to come up with our plan to rescue the others," Antonia was the most proactive of the bunch, and also most caring about the other students. She would go to the point of making sure everyone else was safe above her own safety.

"Wait, hold up, we can't go running off now," the short, sandy haired Garett spoke up, pushing his glasses further up his nose, "we need to stay here and help out, plus the leader's will probably catch us and stop us from leaving."

Marilyn quickly came to Antonia's defence, "You're right, but also wrong. Royal Family won't let any students out, they'll do it all themselves. By the time they get round to it, it'll be too late. We need a plan now." Antonia could almost see Marilyn struggling with her English, but smiled gratefully at the fact she had backed her up.

"Like Marilyn said, we need to work this out now, before it's too late." Everyone in the room seemed serious enough, but Antonia wasn't an empath, so couldn't tell what they were feeling, "we've all lost team members, some more than others, it's better we band together and fight that sit here huddling like weaklings."

The tall, blonde Ukrainian, George, lifted his hand in the air half-heartedly, "I-I can't, I hav to catch plane tonight. I sorry guys, really, but I need to go home." Sliding himself off the desk, George waved a quick goodbye to the others before he left, Kaido glaring at him as he left.

"Findo zeir shatsu, I can sniffs zem." Kaido was one of the other international students, hailing all the way from Japan. He was currently studying abroad in Manchester, until the Royal Family found him and decided to take on his scholarship and train him at the mansion. He was a close Rival of Nix's.

"Thank you, Kaidomaru," Antonia used the nickname she had come up with during their sessions of him teaching her Japanese and vice versa. "So we've got our lead, and we can borrow transport, anyone else want to leave?" she asked the remaining students, Rebecca, Oliver and Garrett all shaking their heads in agreement. They had comrades to find and Antonia would make damn sure she rescued them all.​

Hmphf. Dom sat in the many chairs provided for this too-early-to-be-up-right-now greeting. The AUP was quickly becoming too "let's do things together!" for him; the dinner last night was bad enough. Good food, but he could do without the speeches. The same thing went for this unannounced early morning briefing. He was tired, too tired, and last time he looked at a clock it was close to six in the morning, maybe it was six now. Whatever time it was, it was the wrong time, especially for the sh*t they hauled him out for. Admittedly, Dom didn't quite know what the entire briefing was about since he immediately blocked everyone out when he heard "help" and "ARF" used in the same sentence. Yeah, no. Not gonna happen.

The people around them rose with unenthused groans when that tailed Atticus fellow told them to "move". Dom wasn't going to move anywhere. He stayed in his chair, ankle on his knee, and looking what was describe for now as unhappy. Across the way Atticus was approached by a black-haired woman Dom wasn't fully acquainted with either because he hadn't met her or wasn't paying attention when she was introduced. Reactions alone, it seemed like Atticus didn't like her. Dom rose from his seat, half listening, half not. From what he could hear, the woman sounded uppity.

"You think they'll notice if I just left?" Dom asked Delta beside him. The woman brought up something to Atticus, something about his family.He frowned. What a b*tch.

"I'll follow you out," Delta replied quickly, what they wanted of her was... outlandish.

This whole being interrupted while training wasn't Delta's idea of a good time. She had "accidentally" fired a round that whizzed passed the head of the person they sent to fetch her. Not to mention she had to suffer through last night's sappy dinner while everyone acted all cheery or drunk in Misha's case. Delta preferred having her meals alone and she only got to them after she finished her allotted training for that time period, which was late at night/early mornings. So she had only picked at the food on her plate not paying any attention to the individuals around her, especially Agnes.

The moment Atticus opened his mouth to tell them what was in store for them Delta wanted to march right back up to her room. Were... they serious? She knew ARF was pathetic, but now they couldn't even manage their own safety. Let the ARF collapse under their own stupidity, as this is a prime example of why you didn't tell the world where the mansion that held all your "students" and "facility" was located. Whatever, she still wasn't helping them. Delta was more interested in talking to Imogen after what Julian had said to her, but she had walked directly up to Atticus and begun a rather intense conversation. She was brutal, moreso than Delta imagined.

Delta snorted and commented rather loudly, "I'll tell you the last thing I'm doing, helping ARF."

"Have you maybe considered that these people we're going to help don't want to be with the Royal Family?" Devon came up from behind, Oakley standing next to him. His face was just as tired and bitter looking as the next member, but seemed a little different since the last time he had met Delta. Maybe it was the absense of his father, or the presense of Oakley. He just seemed less... sour.

"Hi Del." Oakley gave Delta a kind wave. "And hello... sorry, I don't know your name," she said to Dom with a small smile. "I'm Oakley."

"Well good thing the Men In Black came to rescue them, huh?" Sounded like a pretty good reason not to go to Dom. Along with the kid who was clearly on board with this "help ARF" insanity was a girl that he recognized from yesterday as being a member of a particularly annoying group, as told by Delta. He braced himself for some unbearable Hell from the mouth, but instead she just introduced herself and waved, something that Dom could cope with.

"Dominique. You can just call me Dom," Dom introduced himself, shaking her hand. He remembered Delta pointing out Oakley to him before, but he didn't know who she was at the time. She had a friend with her too, which he didn't recognize as part of the Pep Squad, but he didn't introduce himself right away.

Oakley noticed the French accent right away. "Enchanté de faire votre connaissance!"

Dom grinned. "Tu parles Français? Est-ce que tu vives ici à Toulouse?"

"Oui! J'habite à Londres en ce moment, mais j'avais l'habitude de fréquenter une école près d'ici." Oakley always felt a little more at home when she found another who could speak one of her three tongues. It felt the same with Devon, though he was much more comfortable speaking English than French. Dom felt the same, though he didn't have a third language under his belt yet. He continued his conversation with Oakley, no longer much concerned with the one who didn't introduce himself.

An unknown voice responded to Delta's comments, she couldn't quite place it, but that did make it any less annoying or make her roll her eyes any less. Before she knew it another voice, this one more familiar, greeted her. Except before she could open her mouth or turn around Dom was already on top of everything, he was quick. And then there was more French, again. Delta curiously watched Dom and Oakley interact before she set her sights on... De-Ev-Evan? No, it was Ev... o. Evo. The unknown commentator. Not like it mattered since she hadn't seen or interacted with him since Paris and here she had hoped to keep it that way. She addressed his presence instead of his comment, "I'm sorry, do you even have your dad's permission to be over here with the big boys?"

Satisfied she turned her attention on Oakley, who for the most part she had only seen in glimpses since Paris and that was okay. Taking a quick look at Oakley she noticed the usual annoyance she had with her wasn't glued to her side. Unable to remain silent on the matter Delta inquired, "Where's your other half, Oakley? Haven't seen you two apart since we left Paris. Did you ditch her for this pip squeak? Major upgrade, but do you want to be dragged down to his level? You'll be stuck on the plane the rest of your time here."

Oakley gave Delta a sad-looking frown before her eyes went to her shoes. She... she just said hello. What was with the attitude? And what was wrong with Agnes and Devon? They had just as much will to learn how to shoot a gun and control their (well, only Agnes in this case) powers as Delta did. Devon, however, didn't back off. Only giving her a look of disbelief mixed with anger.

"What did you just call me?"

Delta couldn't help but laugh, a lot. "Please kid, you're like twelve. Don't make me waste any more of my breath of on you. Run away, off to Dad now, I'm sure he has somewhere safe for you to be." And with that Delta dismissed with a wave of her hand and turned her attention back towards Dom and Oakley.

"Or what? You're going to cut off my head with a roundhouse kick?"

"Devon... Del" Oakley made a face. The air here was getting all too thick with hostility. "P-please don't fight." Of course, her words were too quiet to actually be acknowledged.

Immediately Delta tensed up, her body language shifted in order to display her range of anger. Delta's fingers curled inward gripping the arms of the chair with her teeth tightly clenched, her breath turned into short in-and-outs, the outs being more audible, and her eyes trained to the floor before her. It was true she had done that. In fact, she was going to do it again, right now if Devon, Evo, whoever the hell he was didn't step away. Was this what it was going to be like now? A constant stream of people bringing up the fact that she was a... a... murderer.

Spoken words were officially over between them, but Delta still had her fists and she intended on using them without considering any of the possible consequences. She stood up from the chair with so much force that it had tipped over, without a second thought Delta pulled down her gloves and her fists had already crystallized the moment her anger had boiled over. It didn't take long, seconds really, before Delta shifted her weight into delivering a fast-pace punch to Devon's facial region like she had been trained to do on enemies.

Devon saw the punch a mile away. He could practically smell the emotions that were bleeding off of her. Her cool attitude had melted away to something a lot more raw and Devon wasn't sure if he liked it better this way or not. At least he knew she had actual feelings. Was she hurting inside, like he was? Or was she just some cold and hurtful person that could step on his fingers just because he didn't look like he was up to the challenge? So, he took it. He just stood there, watching the fist fly towards him with not even a blink. He felt the crystal fist smash his nose, the crack echoing through his skull. He felt the crystal butt into his teeth, cutting his mouth and tasting blood. He was thrown back a little, falling into the seat in front of him, stabbing into his back. That would probably leave a bruise. Oakley made a small gasp and made an attempt to help him up but he flicked her off, probably a little more rudely than he intended. He stood up, wiping his nose on his shirt.

He didn't just seem unsurprised, but unimpressed.

"Does that make you feel any better? Do you need to do it again?" He spat at the ground, trying to get that ugly, metallic taste out of his mouth.

"Devon!" Oakley piped up a little louder this time, but he brushed her off again.

"You can't just call someone names and insult them to their face and expect them to heel at your feet." He kept his eyes trained on hers, moving only once to flick over to the dark-haired, bespectacled woman leaning against the wall, watching the entire argument. She smirked at him, before Devon's eyes flicked back to Delta. "Don't be a b*tch."

Something had unlocked inside of Delta, unleashing the rage, the anger into a punch just felt... natural. Primal. Scary thing was, she wanted to continue until she hadn't the energy to continue any longer and Delta felt like she could go for days. An appeased grin sat on her face. It wasn't because she had hit her target, but whatever she was feeling right now was great... she didn't want it to end. The swing was sloppy, as it should've been a clean break. The critiques she would've given herself if there weren't more pressing concerns were endless.

"Again?" Delta repeated, gladly was what her brain immediately thought. No, he, despite his words, wasn't the enemy. He was a sixteen-year-old boy that she had punched... in the face. Definitely a low moment. "Look, just run off to Dad and get yourself looked at, he wouldn't want his little boy bleeding all over the place." For the first time Delta actually looked at the kid's face, she hoped she had broken his nose for all the trouble he had caused her. "Leave and bother someone else with your weakness. That's all you'll ever be, alone and weak."

"As alone as you are?"

"Who said I'm alone?"

"Your mum did."

"Where's your mum?"

"Same place as yours."

Unphased by the comment, as Delta was more interested (and concerned) on how he knew. "And you came across this information how exactly?"

"Perks come with being the boss's kid."

"Oh." It wasn't much, but it was all Delta had.

Of course, their kerfuffle had attracted the attention of the higher ups, Julian the first to stride over with a "what's going on?". Imogen shrugged, leaving the scene and the rest to Julian. He noticed the blood immediately, inspecting Devon's face as Oakley made inaudible wimpers behind him. He gave Delta a cautious look before pulling the young man away. Devon left Oakley with Delta and Dom, keeping his eyes trained on the Polish girl until she was no longer in his sight.

"There are some things that shouldn't be brought up," Delta said out loud, but it was mostly her trying to convince herself. She hoped that one sentence explained it all, as she picked up her chair and sat down in it once more as if nothing had happened. She slouched into the chair inspecting the fist she had punched Devon with, "Still not helping the Royal Family."

The passed moments were not only interesting, but personal. The innocent greeting from Oakley turned into a miniature battle in mere seconds. He had learned a few things--true-- like how that kid's name was Devon and that, not only could Delta punch breakfast tables, she could kill people with her feet. He thought it was a joke at first, but her reaction made him think otherwise. If he was supposed to feel admiration or disapproval, he hadn't figured that out yet.

The fight had died down, Spectacles had taken Devon away, and the mood had changed from exhausted and sour to angry, exhausted, and sour. Dom noticed there was a trend with AUP members bringing up the issue of family, something that he personally didn't like. He made a note to avoid most people, or at least the ones who had connection with the staff, or whatever they wanted to call themselves. He, at least, had two people to talk to: the crystal-fisted lady with deadly feet, Delta, and the surprisingly pleasant and French-speaking Oakley. He looked down at the mentioned Oakley, feeling that, not only did Delta need a few seconds to herself, but that it was time for a change in subject.

"So what can you do?"

Oakley stared at the empty spot where Devon had been for a moment, but shook her head, pretending what just happened didn't just happen. She smiled, pulling up her arm to show Dom.

"It's like... a protective armour. Similar to Del's ability," she said before trying to control her breathing. Within a few moments, pimples began to form, with armour protruding out of the top of her palm. Soon, it had covered her entire hand and stopped just after her wrist. "See? Um, but Dev-- um, Evo, sorry, he said that it's rude to ask other people what their ability is so just be, um, wary when asking the older people."

"I'm sorry, but when did we start listening to every word that comes out of his mouth? You really believe everything he tells you?" Delta couldn't help but scoff, it would be ridiculous that Oakley believed that kid. The fact that she was so... enamored by him also bugged Delta. Oakley was strong, why would she allow herself to be around someone who could hold her back?

"Um." Oakley bit her lip. She wasn't sure if Delta was insulting her, like she had Devon, or trying to encourage her. Oakley wasn't one to take offense that hard, so she tried to see it in the best possible light. "Well, he was showing me the library and there were books about Atlantean history and I thought it would be best to know about customs since... this is us now and I don't want to offend anybody by looking ignorant. But, it's too bad I can't look at the Librarian's books anymore though. The AUPs collection seem like children's stories compared to his." She let out a little laugh. She definitely wasn't telling any lies about that. Before the Librarian, she probably would have been dazzled by the AUP's books. Now, it was all rather underwhelming.

"The Librarian?" Dom raised a brow. That seemed like a rather... vague name for a librarian. There were plenty of librarians out there and even if this was the librarian it didn't clear much up. "He doesn't have a name?"

"Well, the Librarian was his consistent name. He changed it every day when I was with him." Oakley shrugged. "I don't know. He's a really nice man."

"So you guys coming or what?" A voice from their left crept in. Oakley turned her head to see Imogen towering over her, a sly smile on her face. She hadn't properly met Imogen but Oakley had a feeling that Imogen wasn't one for polite introductions. "Planes all packed up so the grunt work is taken care of. Best seats go fast so there's no use squabbling out here."

Dom wondered if the librarian would change his name to something like the cook or the mailman from time to time, but before he got to ask they were asked to board the planes for the second time. It was that black-haired woman who really liked to discuss family trees. He didn't know her, but he was sure he didn't exactly like her.

"You know I think I said something about not going earlier, but I might have a short memory. What do you think?"

Imogen faked a gasp. "Not go? And miss out on breaking some Atlantean hatin' skulls and have Royal Family rats delivered to us in little dog cages? I'm not sure you read the invitation properly, honey." She gave Dom another one of her sickly sweet smiles. Oakley had a strange feeling to suddenly throw up wash over her.

"I didn't read it," Dom replied with a growl. He didn't like that she called him honey. He didn't know her and he didn't like her. Whoever she was supposed to be, she didn't make an effort to make a good impression.

After the argument with Devon Delta was itching to knock some individuals into the next millennium. That feeling she felt... it was astounding and if this was the way she had to do it, so be it. Why shouldn't they have the Royal Family begging on their knees? "I'm in, let's show the Royal Family what real Atlanteans can do." Without another word Delta passed Dom, Oakley, and Imogen with excitement showing more and more on her face as she took each step.

Dom raised a brow when Delta walked passed. Her mind was changed for reasons he didn't know, but it changed all the same. He still didn't want to help and thought about staying behind, but the thought of being alone with the rest of AUP made him think otherwise. Oakley was going too. The trip had two upsides and two huge downsides, dealing with ARF and dealing with this woman who seemed like she'd annoy him the entire trip. He tried to make the bright side a little brighter. Maybe he could see this as some kind of training. Yeah, training.

"Well, Oakley, after you."

"Alright." Oakley blinked at Delta's behaviour. She had been rather forceful, even so much as to punch Devon in the nose for it but because Imogen told her to go, it seemed like a good idea? It was a little, well, hypocritical. Oakley went along anyways (she had intended on going in the first place), following Delta and passing a sneering Imogen, pressing her glasses up to her nose. There was something about that woman that Oakley really didn't like.

Oakley had not been in a private jet plane before, and it was cosy and comfortable looking. But not much could have prepared her for the surprise onboard.

"Oakley! My dear girl, how nice it is to see you!" The Librarian sat towards the front end of the plane, a plate of sweets sitting in front of him, which he seemed to be slowly munching on. Oakley was a little speechless, but did notice he was missing a key person by his side. "And you've made new friends, how wonderful. It's great to see you're fitting in so well!"

"H-hello!" she stumbled a little with her words, still rather confused. "Wh-where is Adeline?"

"She is previously engaged with other arrangements, but don't worry, she's fine." His smile was just as bright as she remembered from only a few days ago. That and his British accent... It was somewhat comforting to Oakley. "Please! Introduce me to your friends!"

"Um." She turned to Delta and Dom. "This is Del and Dom. Del and Dom, this is the Librarian. My, uh, mentor?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. But, please, call me Franklin." He beamed back.

Uhh. "Nice to meet you," Dom greeted with a handshake. When Oakley described "the Librarian" or Franklin earlier, he imagined that he wouldn't be seeing him in the next ten minutes. Maybe he misunderstood what she was saying? There was also an Adeline person, but he decided not to ask about that. "So do you like to stick with English names or do you mix it up a bit?" Maybe it was prying, but after Oakley told them about the Librarian's, or Franklin's, identity crisis, he was curious.

"Interesting question! Nowadays, I stick to English since it's one of the most widely spoken languages on this Earth but way back when, much before any of your grandparents were born, I spent a great deal of time in Europe, in this dear country, and in Germany and Spain, under the guise of the 'Mr. Florian Schäfer', travelling dentist extraordinaire!" Oakley did notice something with the absence of Adeline; there was no one to stop the Librarian from telling his stories. She could do it herself, but would that seem rude? "I met many a teeth during that time, even inspecting the bicuspids of Otto von Bismarck on a regular basis. We did share a laugh now and again, but he wasn't too happy with me when I told him he needed a tooth or two removed. What a man!" He laughed, his memories seemingly flashing before his eyes. It was like watching a Grandfather recount his stories of old.

Oh, well. He sure was talkative. "Oh, really?" Dom smiled and nodded, but the kind of smile and nod you used when you weren't quite sure the person you were talking to was alright upstairs. Bismarck, huh? Was Franklin in need of some help or did this just go hand in hand with recent Atlantean weirdness? He really wanted to go with the first option. He also wanted to ask Oakley if this kind of thing was normal, but he didn't have much of an opening.

After boarding the plane some bizarre man had started jabbering on, but Delta had already started to ignore all those around her. She hated being in the plane just as much as she hated being in that helicopter the first time around. It was an awful experience and the less Delta spoke the less she would have to worry about spewing over everyone. The ground was naturally where she felt more connected and to have all this conversation going on around her was quite distracting. Her delayed reaction to the words "The Librarian" was more apparent as she grinded her teeth and opened her mouth.

"The Librarian? You know Ice Boy and James Hazan then, right." It wasn't a question, well, at least not the way Delta said it. She was confirming what James had told her in Paris and it had to be the same guy seeing as Oakley and James knew each other. "Why do you have a little trio of your own?" She was referring to of course Oakley, James, and Nathaniel. Delta wasn't sure if he had others under his influence, but Oakley seemed to think highly of this man. That didn't mean much to Delta considering the company Oakley kept. "What's that about? Trying to start your own faction? Using them as bait to gather information while you stand in the background ready to absorb it all?" Despite her stomach churning Delta wanted answers no matter the cost.

"Y'know, I was wondering the same thing," Imogen said, her voice growing louder as she entered the plane.

"Well aren't we a nosy nelly?" The Librarian crossed his legs, picking a small chocolate from his pile of sweets and popping it into his mouth. He took a moment to suck on it before he swallowed it. "I wish no ill will on anyone. Mr. Hazen, Mr. Calaway and Ms. North here are my students and I will not put them in harm's way unless I am sure they are capable of handling it. As for the rest there, I'm afraid what I do is not much of your business." The Librarian kept his politeness consistent, despite the hostility in Delta's words. Oakley wasn't surprised, since James had been much of the same, though the Librarian had answered all their questions truthfully, as far as she could tell. Maybe it was because they and the Librarian shared an 'agreement' that he was so generous with his information.

"Let's get a move on then, shall we." Cooper came through the door, and one by one, followed by what looked like the rest of the AUP that Oakley had met and some she hadn't; Emilio, Atticus, Misha, Frederick, Natalia, Devon (whose nose was suspiciously much better than it had been not too long ago), Julian, as well as other members of the AUP to fill the rest of the chairs.

"I thought I said he wasn't to come?" Emilio looked at Devon warily, giving Cooper a frown.

"I'm not staying behind, I'm not a kid!" Devon said, his voice dripping with the amount of angst a teenager his age would have.

As if on cue Delta couldn't help but snicker at the words that were exchanged.

"Don't worry, Mr. Bernot. I'll make sure he doesn't get into trouble." Julian took his seat next to the teenager, giving him a disapproving look. He said something quietly at him, but it wasn't loud enough for Oakley to hear.

"So," Cooper approached the cockpit, stopping just before the old Atlantean, sitting snugly in the corner sucking on his chocolates, "what pleasure do I have to call you today?"

"Franklin it is today. I almost went with a David or a Joseph, something more biblical but Franklin just seemed right today!" he beamed at Cooper, who seemed a bit sour at his guest's presence. He ignored whatever the rest of the conversation they were meant to have, pushing the curtain aside to get into the cockpit.

"You'll have to introduce me to all of these chaps later on, dear Oakley," Librarian gave her an affectionate nudge as she sat down next to him. "They all seem like such wonderful people!"

"Alrighty then," Atticus said, speaking into a walky talky, "let's get going."

The plane rumbled as the engine started. Not a lot of time was wasted and Cooper had already started moving the plane onto the runway. Everyone took their seats and buckled up as the plane took off into the sky, towards whatever fate had in store for them.​

No one replied. No one ever replied.

Austin strained pointlessly against hid leather bindings. His muscles ached; he hadn't moved in a long time. On top of that, he was hungry, and his chest hurt from being shot, and, was it just him? Or was it getting colder in the cell? And worst of all, they were there.

Austin's mirrors. The looked at him. No matter where he turned his head, Austin looked at them too. Everywhere, the same person, strung up to die on a metal frame. Okay now you're just being melodramatic, Austin. Why would they kidnap Atlanteans just to kill them? If they wanted you dead, those bullets wouldn't have gone through your shoulder muscles instead of heart. Still, this sucked complete ass, and it was starting to demoralize Austin.

How long had he been hare? Days? A week? No, not that long. Maybe 24 hours. Maybe. What do you think, Austin #4?

...

He thinks you're stupid. This is stupid.

Oh, well what about Austin #17?

...

Austin #17 can't talk right now on account of being a dumbass. What about Austin #2?

...

He says he's pretty damn hungry. So is Austins #3-18.

Austin #1 sighed. So did every other Austin in the room.

".....Copycats," said Alpha Austin. And suddenly he couldn't stop laughing.

"Oh me oh my, oh my oh me. I'm super funny. But wait, there might be more to see. I can rhyme as well, if I please!" And suddenly he stopped laughing. But Austin #7 went on. Austin #9 picked up shortly after. Austin #2 got up to get a snac- Oh wait what the hell. Why does Austin #2 get to leave?

Austin's head started to droop. Vision blurred, he could sorta make out all of the Austins, all 17 clones, start doing things they shouldn't One stretched his arm. Another scratched his itchy leg. Alpha Austin tried to comprehend, but he was too fatigued and sleepy. He feebly tried to pull on his restraints, but they stayed in place.

Now the other Austins were laughing again. They were laughing at him.

"Sucks to suck," said Austin #whatever.

"C'mon dude, just pull them off," said another, "yank on 'em."

"Yeah, Austin, be like us!"

"Tk tk tk, Austin can't even keep his head up."

"Bro. You're blowing it dude. Stop embarrassing me here."

"Austin-" "Austin-" "Austin-"
"Austin!" "Austin?" "AUSTIN!!!" "Austin I-" "Hey, Austin-" "Dude, Austin."


The real Austin screamed. And screamed and screamed, trying to drown out his friend's voices.​

As soon as he grabbed hold of Jeremy's shoulder, bow in his other hand ready, Wyatt tightened his stomach muscles, ready for the jump to be made. He didn't need to be reminded about the stomach clenching feeling in the gut every time he teleported with Jeremy. It made him wonder how the boy coped with the feeling each time he teleported across the room, let alone across kilometres of distance. Before he knew it, the world around him seemed to blur as if his vision was stretching backwards, the edges of his vision slowly creeping in, replacing the Syndicate common room with the midday docks of Portsmouth. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, but Jeremy had teleported them into the shadow of some stacked containers, giving them time to get ready for their mission.

From there they moved out, practicing like they had made up only an hour before hand in the training room and scouting for anyone they could take out. Jeremy stayed in back while Adrian flanked right with Wyatt taking left, bow fully draw in front of him. It didn't take long for them to take down three black clad guards that came marching past, Wyatt taking one out with his bow while Adrian literally cracked skulls with the other two. So while Adrian stood guard, Wyatt and Jeremy suited up, putting the uniforms on over top of their Syndicate issued Kevlar suits, and then swapping to guard while Adrian suited up and hid his second set of arms. The only problem remaining was Wyatt's bow and arrows, which they stowed in the crook of two containers for later use.

Ready, they set off marching, Wyatt taking the lead with Adrian and Jeremy following closely behind. Up ahead the ship loomed, docked in the port, as they marched their way towards the large cargo ship that held their Atlantean brethren. It was a straight walk there, one they shouldn't have been bothered on, except for the large figure, larger than Adrian that approached them from their right.

"Privates, where do you think you're going?" The man stopped with his arms behind him, straight back and the others struggled to quickly salute him.

"Sir, just reporting to the ship, sir," Wyatt took over, Jeremy had no experience with any sort of army personnel and Adrian needed to stay as much in the shadows as possible.

Despite his effort however, the man seemed furious at their current objective, "Privates, you better be pulling my leg or I swear you will regret it! Now report to the right area or I will have your guts!" and with that, he walked off in the other direction, leaving the boys sweating profusely.

They waited for the senior office to walk out of sight before they continued on marching forward; they needed to get on the boat before it left. "Geez, that was close," Adrian bent down to whisper in Wyatt's ear, loud enough for Jeremy to hear as well.

"Let's just make it on board, we'll worry about that tool later," Wyatt whispered back as they began to march more quickly towards the boat.

"So, we get on the boat, then what?" Jeremy more than whispered over his shoulder, causing the other two to quickly hush him before any of the hard faced, straight back military men that walked past them at breakneck marching speed.

"We get on the ship. Rescue these others. Get off. Simple." Adrian ordered from the back, Wyatt and Jeremy both trusted Adrian enough as the leader, but Wyatt wasn't quite sure he would follow Adrian into battle like Jeremy.

"Yeah, simple." Wyatt muttered under his breath as they neared the looming ship.

Once on board the ship, the boys tried to keep out of the spotlight as much as possible, standing on the fringes of groups, hiding in shadows, trying to find out what ever they could about where the captured Atlanteans were held and how to get them off the ship with so many guards wandering around staunchly. Jeremy wandered around on deck while Adrian scouted out the back half of the ship leaving Wyatt to wander around the front half. It didn't take long for Wyatt to stumble on the guarded door, the two muscled personnel looming over him.

"Private, you should return to the deck with the others. No other personnel have permission to go beyond here." The one on the right said almost robotically.

"Okay, okay, uh yes sir!" Wyatt stammered as he spun on his heels. Once out of sight, he lifted his hand to his ear, activating the tiny receiver that allowed him to communicate with the others. "I've found it; meet me on deck by the containers."

It didn't take Wyatt long to find his way back, much less the hulking figure of Adrian awkwardly standing by the containers, trying to look busy, but also trying to hide his extra arms uncomfortable beneath his shirt. Jeremy stood just off to the side, arms folded and trying to look intimidating despite his shorter stature and also as if he didn't know Adrian. Wyatt slid in between them, looking forward and talking to them as if he didn't know either of them, but in reality, they looked way too conspicuous.

"So the entrance is right below us, guarded by two guards," he manage to sputter out before the deep roll of a fog horn swept over them.

"Sh*t, looks like our timer just starter," Adrian recovered as the boat jutted beneath their feet, slowly pulling away from shore and heading out into the English Channel.

Jeremy moved closer to the two after making awkward eye contact with a female officer passing by, "We need to get them off of here before the ship leaves the English Channel, or we're stuck with nowhere to go," he began sweating, looking around nervously, "I can only teleport so many people so far."

"Let's do this then," Wyatt spoke with a nod of his head, leading the other two away from the containers and down into the hull of the ship. After their little meeting with the Directive, Wyatt had been informed that he didn't want to focus on recruiting people, rather keeping everyone in their place and also gaining a favour from the Royal Family. As far as he was concerned, Wyatt was just a little pawn in a game of chess, he didn't understand why favours mattered so much to the Syndicate, but then again, they only told him so much.​

"I'm fine," was all the girl next door seemed to be able to say through her raw and tender sounding throat. Pyrrha closed her eyes in a silent prayer, thankful that the girl was fine ad didn't sound too badly injured. "Who are you?" was the first question she heard, followed by "What is this place?" by the sounds of it, the girl wanted to ask Pyrrha a whole lot of questions, most of which she herself didn't even know the answer to.

She was about to reply when another comment came out of the girl's lips, this one a lot softer and spoken more lowly, "I feel like a lab rat…" This made Pyrrha shiver, she was lucky in that her ability was only one that was straight forward, but this girl sounded like her brother; being tortured to see what the extent of his ability truly was.

"I'm Pyrrha, it's going to be alright, we'll get out of here soon enough!" Even though she spoke the words, she barely trusted them herself. It was a lie, but a necessary evil that would hopefully keep them both sane until they were able to free themselves. "This seems like some sort of prison, where they keep Atlanteans," was all she knew on where they were, something told her they were in some sort of moving fortress, being carted from place to place, but there can't have been a plane or truck big enough to fit all these cells.

"Tell me, where are you from?" If she could get a sense of distance, then it would make it easier for her to figure out anything she could about the place. Before she could get an answer, she heard shouting, and the all too familiar stomping of boots as an ensemble walked past her door, stopping at the cell next to her. "Nyet!" she yelled hoarsely as loudly as she could, "Astaf eyo fpakoya, oorod!"

As she yelled, she heard a single set of boots march over to the door to her cell, immediately she quietened down, fearful of what the person on the other side might do to her. She heard the flick of a switch, immediately regretting her decision to yell at the person as electricity ran down the chains, shocking her through her handcuffs. Now, Pyrrha could only yell in pain as the electricity set her nerves on fire, her brother going wild in the cell on her other side. It only stopped when Pyrrha's head bowed forward, the pain overcoming her threshold and making her black out.​

As Nix was one of their teammates, Antonia felt both obliged to be in his room, but also invasive despite their reason to save him. Only Marilyn and Kaido were in the room with her, out of respect for Nix's privacy, but she still felt guilty about sifting through his stuff. "Kaido, can you be quick? Surely his scent is dissipating by now." She asked frustrated. All she wanted to do was to get on the road and track down the people that had hours on them, and every minute they spent mucking around was another minute they wasted looking for them.

Kaido looked up from the draw he had been smelling, his eyes wide and puppy like with his mouth and nose stretching from his human face into a dog like snout covered in a beige and white fur. "I doingu my besto, alumosto…Yatta!!" pushing past the girls, he began sniffing the air around the walls, pulling in every fibre of Nix's scent as he followed the trail.

Excited, Antonia and Marilyn quickly followed behind him as Kaido moved from wall to wall heading down the stairs and out the front of the mansion. With nose held high in the air, he furrowed his brow, "we hav to leabu soon, his scento fadingu quickly."

Antonia whistled and from the garage, the three of them heard the familiar roar of two cars; Oliver driving his cobalt blue Ford F150 pickup truck with Rebecca sitting in the passenger's seat, and Garrett having borrowed one of the royal families' red Mazda evo, the window wound down. "Kaido, jump in boy," he smiled at Kaido's sour look at Garrett treating him like a dog, but he still got in.

"Marilyn, you travel with Kaido and Garrett," Antonia said as she opened the door to the Evo for Marilyn to get in the car, "I'll go with Oliver and we'll follow you…" Antonia stopped talking as she noticed Nate and James walking past a window in the main foyer of the mansion, her cheeks starting to glow red, "I'll be right back."

The others looked angry about Antonia's rapid leaving of them, much less making it even more late to getting out onto the road. However they all could use both Nate and James' help on their expedition. "Nate, James!" she called out as she sprinted in through the main door, running over to them and waving her hands furiously in the air. "Will you help us? Please?" she asked, pulling at Nate's hand.​

It had been a while since he last met with the Atlantean known as 'Techno', the man barely sane enough to stay out of a mental asylum. Leo and the others tried to give Techno his space, but it was times like these in which he provided a much needed asset; if he was willing to help. Years ago, Leo had been one of the first to recognise Techno's awakening to his Atlantean heritage, and promptly recovered him from behind shipped away to some government facility. If anyone were to know exactly where the bullets came from and who used them, it would be Techno.

Approaching his apartment, Leo held his hand out, slowing Katerina and forcing her behind him, "The guy trusts me, let me do the talking," he spoke with a grave face. Techno was more than fragile, the wrong statement could set him off and they would get nowhere quickly. Clearing his throat, "Leo Andre Cabrillo, Panthero Morphology, Atlantean Royal Family," he spoke looking directly at the camera hidden in the dark crook above the door.

The camera made a sound as if it was sighing before a small click echoed from the door, Leo pushing the handle down and bringing Katerina into the crowded apartment quickly before he shut the door. Around them, cables, screens running codes and games of pong lined the walls and floors all around the apartment. Even the kitchen had been converted into a single computer, all linking together via the central hub set up in Techno's bedroom. Leo brought Katerina through, sitting on the only couch in the whole place that was free of computer stuff, waiting for Techno to return. From the bedroom they heard a bloody cough as a rather thin man dressed in nothing but a bathrobe emerged, eyes circled with dark lines.

"Leo, my old pal," he embrace Leo in a tight hug, almost as if he was leaning on him to support his weak frame. The man was nothing but skin and bones, and seemed a lot worse with Leo wrapped around him.

"Jason, you look even more unhealthy," Leo responded concerned, "but it's good to see you too." He rested his hands on Jason's shoulders, saddened by the state the man had fallen into.

Techno/Jason paused, looking at Leo for a brief moment; Leo had been the first person in a long time to call him by his human name. He had discarded that name long ago, preferring the name 'Techno' as many of the people referred to him as. "So, I can understand this to not be a social call, then?"

"Unfortunately not, we've something we need you to look into for us," Leo queried, pulling the small tranquiliser bullet out of his jeans pocket and handing it to the frail man. As he dropped it in Jason's hands, he could see the man almost struggling to hold the little weight up much less straddle it between two fingers as he examined it.

His eyes gleamed, twisting the bullet over and over, rotating his head at odd angles to find any underlying markers that would give him a clue as to where to look. "This wouldn't happen to be from last night then," Jason raised an eyebrow at Leo.

"Figured you of all people would know," Leo left one hand on Jason's shoulder, partially holding the man up, and buried his face in the other, "I f*cked up, Jason, I need to get my kids back before anything happens to them." The only other time Katerina had heard Leo curse was at his brother's funeral, and she didn't need River here this time to tell her what Leo was feeling.

"Alrighty then," Jason said somewhat cheerfully, his sunken, baggy eyes brightening up, ""just let me jack in…." Jason began fumbling around on the floor, messing with the multitude of cables that hid beneath the coffee table… "found it!" He revealed to them both, a female USB port connection to one of the many computers around his apartment. He sat down on the adjacent couch to Katerina, pressing his thumb down on the USB port as the colour in his eyes vanished and his eyelids sunk.

Katerina was shocked, she had seen many abilities in her time, but the man seemed to almost will his soul and existence out of his body and into the USB cable he held firmly in his hands. She now realised how much time this man must get lost in the web, surfing, watching and playing with streams of data, all the while his body sat here, rotting and decaying. She shuddered at what might become of him if his body simply withered away while he was out experiencing the world from inside a computer. Would he be stuck there?

Leo placed a hand on her shoulder, "This is how he chooses to live his life, who are we to tell him otherwise. He made up his mind long ago; it's just us that'll have to live with the consequences once he goes." A small tear curled at the edge of his eye; Leo knew full well his friend wasn't going to last long at all.

"Leo!" Katerina called out as Jasons body began to convulse, his eyelids moving rapidly and sweat starting to drip from his brow. Holding her fingers to his neck, she could feel his pulse racing, his body burning up as something began tearing him up inside. She tried holding his shoulders to steady the convulsing, looking around for any sign of anything that could rapidly cool him down. Leo rummaged through the fridge and freeze, but both were empty and turned off, rotten food piled inside of them.

Suddenly, all around them the computer terminals and screens burst into life, all displaying a series of numbers, some flashing them and others running the numbers rapidly across the screen like some sort of matrix.

"50.8167 N, 1.0833 W"

When Katerina finally lifted her fingers off of Jasons' body, his pulse had stopped beating altogether and his body sunken in as all the residue air was let out and hung immediately in front of them. All around them, the computer terminals began making sounds, all data being erased as Jason, in his final moments of life, deleted his very existence.

Leo crouched down, his hands dwarfing Jasons' spindly fingers beneath his. Everything had been going great, but ever since Berlin, Leo had been losing on every front; his brother, his students and now Jason, when was enough going to be enough and things to actually start looking up for him. Katerina placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, feeling slightly dejected at the situation at hand.

"Leo, ve have to go, the students' lives could be in danger. I'll drive us back to the mansion and ve can send someone to deal with his stuff. Right now, ve can try and save the students, and let his death not be in vain."

Leo go to his feet, wiping the tears from his eyes, "Katerina, we better hurry," determination filled the words and rage burned in his eyes. Truth be told, Katerina was scared when Leo got like this because he became reckless, but it was always this willingness to push on during adversity that fortified his position as their leader and what really made her respect him.​

The plane ride had been all kinds of different for everyone. Atticus and Natalia had been catching up; apparently Natalia had been away for a while on a mission of somesort and the two had not spoken since she had left. Their discussion was much like between a mother and child, with Atticus playing the part of the rebellious child and Natalia the disapproving mother. Oakley and the Librarian were also
'catching up', but it was mainly Oakley pointing at members she knew the names of and summarising what she knew of them, Dom adding in what he could. Emil and Cooper were in the cockpit, hardly making a sound from the outside. Julian and Devon were sitting at the back of the plane, quietly conversing. Misha was reading aloud a book, City of ... something, by the look of it, Frederick next to him, listening. Imogen was pretening not to listen in to the Librarian and Delta was gazing out of a window, trying not to throw up.

The signals had led them, under Annie's instructions, to a harbour in Portsmouth, on the south coast of England. Under inspection, the port was mostly empty, aside from a large ship, with large cargo containers stacked on top of it. They couldn't stop and land here, instead flying over and around to avoid drawing attention to themselves (their plane was too small to draw up on radars and even then, Annie had them hidden. They flew over and landed at the nearest airport, with cars ready to take them. The drive to the dock was as quick as the drivers could take them, within speed limit and without drawing attention to themselves. Only a few cars were on direct route while others had to double back to avoid detection.

The ones en route? Emil, Cooper, Devon, Julian, Atticus, Natalia, Misha, Imogen, Frederick, Oakley, The Librarian, Delta and Dom.

When they arrived at the dock and scrambled to the boat's port, it came to more than a shock to discover the boat had left port. Not by a long while though, it was only a kilometer or three off the dock. Emil swore, but gathered everybody quickly for a plan.

"Alright, we'll have to move quick if we want to catch the boat. Huddle together now." He raised his arms and the gravity around them became muddled. Slowly, they lifted off the ground.

"Whoa, whoa." Atticus held his arms out trying to steady himself, but he started to flip around, as if he was weightless. Even his tail popped out of his pants, trying to hold himself steady, but everyone but Julian, Devon, Cooper, The Librarian and Emil seemed to be in a similar boat. In fact, the Librarian was having a whale of a time. When they were high enough, Emil pushed his hands back and the ball of anit-gravity moved forward. Julian's wings burst from his coat and he flapped them as much as he could, trying to help Emil push the bubble towards the ship. The Librarian offered his own help, covering the group with a cloak of invisibility. Soon, they were hovering over the end of the boat, keeping up with it. Emil dropped the bubble as low as he could to the ground, then broke the bubble and invisibility, the group dropping half a foot on the iron floor.

"Alright," Emil said, keeping his voice low. "This boat is heavily guarded. And as far as Annie has told me, they're trained for Atlantean combat. So don't do anything rash. We're unsure where the captives are, only that they are on this boat somewhere. Split into groups and search for them. Radio in when you've found something."

"This sounds exciting, doesn't it?" The Librarian whispered to Oakley, his tone a little giddy, as if he thought this was a game. Oakley gave him a small frown, but didn't object. He may seem silly, but he was more powerful than anything Oakley had ever seen, TV or not.

"Check the boat's lower levels, check the containers at the front of the ship, check wherever you can, but stay out of sight. This is a stealth and rescue mission. Killing anyone here is unnecessary. We're not murderers. Knock them out if need be, but keep it quiet. We get in, find them, and get out. Nothing more."

"Devon, stick with me, alright?" Julian put a hand on the boy's shoulder. He turned to face the winged man, Oakley catching his face for the first time since he got on the plane. She blinked. Oakley could have sworn that Devon's face didn't even look bruised.

"Right."

"Oakley and I will accompany you." The Librarian nudged Oakley forward, giving her a wink.

"No killing." Imogen gave a wink to Delta.

"Alright." Emil nodded. "Let's move."​