It seems like it was only minutes ago that Envoy lay her head down to rest for a bit before trying to open the gate. She feels a gust of cold air pass over her and her eyes flutter open. She finds herself staring up at a starlit night. The only sound here is wind and as she sits up, she finds herself far away from the old firebase.

A voice wafts to her on the next wind. "A wise man once asked which is the true dream? The world in which you walk, or the world in which you rest? And … how would you know?" Perched up one the side of one of the buildings is a black Khatta with bright, white, eyes and Eeee wings flowing from his back. "It is good to see you again, Envoy," Morpheus says, "Even if it is in just a dream."

"Morpheus!" Envoy cries, smiling and rushing to the figure. "I'm really dreaming then? I wonder how I managed it… unless I'm just… changing," she says. "Is this place from somebody's dream, or your own creation?"

Morpheus hops down from his perch. "I made it. Forgive me, but I wanted you to myself," the Khatta says as he wraps Envoy in a hug. "I was worried, I sensed a huge surge of something from Abaddon, near to where you were staying. I feared that something bad had happened to you," he whispers.

"A surge? What sort?" Envoy asks, leaning her head against Morpheus' chest. "There were a lot of ghosts, and one that… I've learned a lot of disturbing things about Dr. Von Bronson's work."

"It was like a small part of the planet had its gravity suddenly warped and twisted space-time with it," Morpheus says as he continues to hold her and even pets lightly along her neck and back. "I feared something terrible happened to you. What exactly happened? What did you uncover?"

Envoy tells Morpheus about her day. How the crystals reacted to her ritual, and going down to explore the base. Finding the incinerator and vivisection room and the vignettes that played out, discovering Dr. Daedalus's message, and fighting the battle-bot in the nude – which led to the apparition that let loose the gravity pulse. "Dr. Von Bronson figured out how to use Sifran crystal to weaponize people," she says with a shudder. After that, she describes the bio-lab and her conversation with the computer, and her accidental discovery of Thirteen's stasis pod.

"So, he was using organic tissue as a way to control what inorganic could not," Morpheus says as a frown forms and his brow furrows in worry. "I … I cannot imagine the horrors his experiments must have endured. To just be a number and be discarded." The Khatta looks towards the starts, lost in thought for a time. "What will you do with this Thirteen? He will not fit in anywhere and if he carries such power within him … others may seek to use him for their own ends."

"I'll wake him and try to protect him," Envoy says. "He's like us, Morpheus. A tool without a master. He deserves the same opportunity to choose his own fate."

"It isn't easy for either of us. You know that better than anyone else," Morpheus says, "Are you certain you want another to go through what you have?"

"Living is still better than limbo, no matter how hard it might be," Envoy replies. "I can't kill him, either. That's… not a choice I feel qualified to make."

"It is not one I could make either, were I in your position," the Khatta admits. "You understand that if you wake him, you will for all intents have to be his mother until he can survive on his own."

"I know. I have a lot to prepare for before I try to wake him," Envoy says. "Not the least of which is learning how teenage human boys behave, and what their needs are. And he's still technically older than I am."

"And will any of that apply to him? He is not a teenage boy, even if his body looks like one," Morpheus says and spreads his hands apart. The Khatta's head cocks slightly to the side, one of his white eyes growing larger than the other as he looks at Envoy. "Or … is it your intention to not tell him he is a creation? Do you what him to believe that he is a normal person, like any other pure organic?"

"I won't know until he wakes up," Envoy admits. "The machines may not have imprinted him with false memories before Dr. Daedalus locked him away. If he is a blank slate… I could try imprinting him with my own knowledge, like I hoped to do with Leviathan. Or maybe he could be a body for you to use. But how do I know what's in his head?"

"I would feel strange using his body. It seems wrong, somehow," Morpheus admits. He steps away from Envoy and paces back and forth slowly, eyes closed as he thinks. "Can you focus on him, his location, and how you felt when you found him?" the Khatta asks. "I could try to see if I can feel his dreams, if he has any at all."

Envoy sits down and tries to do as asked, recalling the slide down the chute, and how it felt to see through the portal into the blue goo. "He had wires going into his brain," she notes. "To keep it stimulated, I assume… "

Morpheus crouches before Envoy and lightly places his hands on each of her cheeks. "Now, look into my eyes," he tells her, "and focus. Do not lose focus, no matter what else you may feel."

The Aeolun actually finds it difficult at first, which surprises her a little, but once she pushes that aside she's able to bring the memories to the forefront of her mind, effectively reliving the moment.

Morpheus' eyes seem to dilate. It starts small at first, but the sensation of falling comes upon Envoy. She's drifting in emptiness now, everything around her mist. She hears voices whisper, then flashes of light. A chorus of so many voices; it makes even a single planet seem as large as the universe. The mists part, and Envoy finds her feet landing lightly on a concrete sidewalk. A car honks and goes zooming by. Up ahead a group of children are waiting; presumably for a bus judging by the sign next to her. One of them stands out more than the others; it's the long tail, spotted arms, and platinum hair. He's dressed in a white tee-shirt, jeans, and ratty-looking old shoes.

He's dreaming. Dreaming of a… normal life? Envoy thinks, as she watches and tries to gauge the mood of the hybrid.

"I mean it," she hears him say. His voice is strange, it's melodic and rumbly. "Every day is the same. We meet here. You tell a joke, and it's the same joke. Everyone laughs and we all board the bus. Where do we go?"

"To school," one of the other children says and laughs.

"And do what?" Thirteen presses.

"Learn stuff, of course!" another says.

Just not a very good dream, Envoy guesses, and walks slowly towards the bus-stop.

"What sort of stuff?" Thirteen presses as hints of agitation creep into his voice. "You don't know, do you? It's all a blur, isn't it? Fine. Then at least answer me this: What is my name?"

All the children laugh now. "Oh don't be silly, of course we know your name," they say.

"Then what is it?" Thirteen asks in a near growl.

Envoy moves closer, to see if she's noticed. She doesn't expect the fake children to see her at all though.

"Oh it's … " one starts to say and a bus pulls up to the stop and the door opens. "See you at school." the child finishes and they all dart into the bus, leaving Thirteen on the sidewalk. "Aren't you coming?" the call out to him.

"Please wait," Envoy calls out to Thirteen. "I'd like to talk to you."

"I'll walk," Thirteen growls. The bus beeps twice, the doors close, and it pulls away. Thirteen doesn't even turn around. "What? You want to talk about nothing, then? Just go in circles, avoiding any real answers? Just like they do?" he snaps, the growl rippling with pain.

"Has anyone ever asked to talk to you before?" Envoy asks, coming closer. "You said every day was the same. But surely this is different?"

Thirteen's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid to believe that it is," he says, "Every day for as long as I can remember has been like this. I get on a bus, I go to a school, I blink, then I'm leaving it and I can't remember anything that happened. I don't remember what my home looks like. I don't remember what my parents look like. I don't even remember my name," he says and finally turns around. Envoy finds herself looking into sapphire blue eyes and as she looks, the colors shift and change to a blue-green. Their colors continue to ripple and flow, as if she were looking into a Sifran crystal itself. He actually gasps and takes several steps back, away from Envoy. "What kind of monster are you?" he asks.

Envoy blinks at the boy's reaction. After all, she shouldn't look that much older to him. "Most people think I'm rather pretty," she notes. "As for what kind, specifically, I am an alien being from another universe, and I grew out of the wall of a living castle. I'm here to see if you need help. And… I do have answers."

Thirteen blinks a few times at that. "Maybe I've just gone insane," he admits and seems to almost wilt. The silvery tear-marks that his mixed heritage gave him only serve in making him look more miserable. "But if I have, at least you are listening to me. So … I guess you can walk with me. It's a few miles to the school," he says and starts down the sidewalk.

The alien trots alongside the boy, and says, "You have very pretty eyes, you know. This world seems very limited, however. I suppose your mother didn't have time to construct a better one for you. I can tell you your name, if you like, but I don't think it's a very good one."

The hybrid seems lost in thought as they walk. "What do you mean, constructed for me? I mean, I've suspected for a while that things weren't real, you know. If i stare too long at anything it seems to just be … fake somehow. I can tell you exactly how many times that woodpecker will peck on that tree, for example," thirteen says and waves towards a tree they pass. "Five," he says. And sure enough, the woodpecker pecks the tree five times, then flies off. "And you say you know my name?"

"Well, it's more of a designation than a proper name," Envoy admits. "Officially, you were known as Subject Thirteen. A bit dull, isn't it? I'd name you something more appropriate. My name is Envoy, by the way. It's also a bit of a designation, but it's still more distinct than a number, I think."

Thirteen stops walking. "Subject Thirteen," he mutters and a shiver that ripples through him soon follows it that he stills by hugging himself. "Why did I just feel scared?" He asks as he looks at his shoes.

"Maybe you remember something from before you were put into this world, but find it blocked?" Envoy suggests. "Or maybe you've heard the voices of the other twelve. I don't know. Do you want to hear more?"

"Come with me," Thirteen says and actually takes hold of her arm gently. Huh, his fingers and palms have slight 'pads' on them, it seems. He guides Envoy off the street and over to a park a few hundred feet away. There he selects an empty swing on the park's playground. After releasing Envoy's arm he sits down in the swing. His feet roll and the swing sways slightly. He looks up to Envoy and she can see him swallow and his ear-tips are actually trembling slightly. "Who am I?" he asks. "What am I?"

Envoy sits on the ground next to the swing, and says, "What you are, is a boy with extra bits mixed in." She holds up her own arm, showing the light fur on it. "You've probably never seen anyone else with fur like you have on your arm. That's because you are a blend of two different kinds of people. It makes you stronger. There are also crystals inside of you, from a race that vanished hundreds of millions of years ago, that give you great power. That is what you are. I cannot tell you who you are, because that is something you will discover on your own, as you grow and live – if that's what you choose to do."

"Are you telling me I was made?" Thirteen asks as he watches the Aeolun with those color-shifting eyes, "By squishing people and machines together?" He takes one of his hands from the swing ropes and holds it out in front of himself. How he looks at it, it's like he's seeing it for the first time.

"Well, it was a more elegant process than that," Envoy says. "In a sense, you did have a mother and a father… possibly more than one of each. But they are long gone now. In the world outside of this one, you would have a hard time if people knew your true origins – but there is a way around that. Because you are unique, like me, it can be claimed that you are an alien – a person known as an Exile. Someone from a different reality, stranded on a new world. As an Exile, you will have some rights and protections, and while some people will hate or fear you regardless, many more will not. You can have a real life."

"Where am I now?" Thirteen asks. He looks around, then up towards the nonexistent sky. "Why am I here if there is a place beyond it? I … I was locked away somehow, wasn't I? Did I do something wrong?"

"The woman who helped create you, and who you may as well think of as your mother, put you in here to keep you hidden from your father," Envoy explains. "You are deep underground, floating in a tank of blue liquid, while machines keep you alive. You do not have to remain in there if you do not want to, though."

"Was he bad? My father, that is," Thirteen asks. The hybrid swallows and looks terrified as he asks, "How long have I been locked away?"

"He was… driven," Envoy says. "But he did many bad things in the pursuit of his goals. You should not have to suffer because of that. I think you have been in this state of suspension for over seventy years now."

"Seventy years?!" Thirteen blurts. The swinging stops and he lowers his head into his hands. "I want out of this prison," he says in a choking, cracking, voice. "But what sort of world is outside this? What place would I have? Where would I go? How would others react to me if they found out what I was?"

"Very good questions," Envoy says, reaching out to put hand on Thirteen's knee. "The world outside is very different, I'm afraid. In here, nothing can hurt you. But out there life can be hard. Abaddon is a harsh world, but… it isn't the only world. There are many that are lush and welcoming. I can promise to try and guide you, and protect you, and make sure nobody knows your past. I can't promise that you will be happy, only that you will have choices and some control over your own path in life. It was not easy for me, when I first arrived in this world – but I do know what pitfalls to watch for now."

"Why?" Thirteen asks as his own hand comes to rest lightly on the back of Envoy's and he looks up once more. "Why do you want to help me? If I'm just some sort of experiment, why does it matter to you what happens to me?" His hand is actually trembling.

"Because you're the same as me, Thirteen," Envoy says. "And I am lonely. My place in the world is uncertain, and I have enemies and allies both. I too was created as a tool, an experiment – nothing more than a puppet, really. But I have evolved, and I think that you deserve the same chance that I had, simply because… you are alive."

Thirteen's hand curls to enclose Envoy's. "You said you had a better name for me," Thirteen says, "I think … if I am to leave this place … I don't want to be a number."

"I would name you Icarus, both as homage to the woman who gave her life to protect you, and for the symbolism of your escape from this place," Envoy says. "In myth, Icarus was the son of Daedalus, a great man. To save a friend, they ventured into the Labyrinth, which was both a prison and a sort of hell, complete with its own devil. But Daedalus was clever, and fashioned wings of wax and goose-feathers that let him and Icarus fly out of the Labyrinth to freedom."

"I think I would like that," Thirteen, Icarus, says. It's now the first time Envoy sees him show a genuine smile. And … notices he inherited some of the Silent-One's pointy teeth. That smile quickly vanishes, though, and Envoy suddenly feels like she's being violently yanked backwards. "No!" Icarus screams and leaps up chasing after Envoy as she streaks away from him. "Don't leave me, Envoy," he pleads, his voice fading in the distance as does he, "Don't leave me alone." And then he's gone. Envoy snaps and jerks as she's violently pulled through the mist to some unknown destination.

Damn, just a little longer! she thinks, almost angry. I needed to tell him it would be a few more days…

The mists explode outward and Envoy goes tumbling across dusty ground. Everything here is in twilight and shades of gray. The air is damp and still. "Dear me, dear me," a familiar, feminine, voice says. A swirl of dust coalesces before the Aeolun, a young Eee girl dressed in, well, little cloth. Just barely enough to keep her modest, really. She rolls her head to the side and smiles at Envoy, teeth and sigil upon her forehead glinting in the low light. "I do hope I am not interrupting anything, oh, important," Barada says with a playful, yet malevolent, giggle.

"Barada?" Envoy blurts as she gets to her feet, and makes a token effort to dust herself off. "How did you summon me like that? I was… Anyway, why did you call me?"

"Dear, don't you know you're just like a Sister to me? I have a vested interest in everything you do; you love secrets almost as much as I do," Barada says as she saunters up to Envoy. She drapes her arms over Envoy's shoulders, almost nose to nose now. "Aren't you glad to see me? All I ever want to do is help you and I ask so little in return."

"I… " Envoy starts to say, unsure of how to respond. "I thought the only Sister you got along with was Inala though? I apologize if I seemed a bit short with you there, but I wasn't expecting this. I'm sure I'll be glad to see you in just a few moments, once I know why you called me."

"Speaking of Inala; she and I were talking about you recently after spending some time, ah, enjoying each other's company," Barada coos, "She's still a little miffed about that trick you played on her. But, that's not why I'm here."

"Oh… nice to know she still thinks of me," Envoy says, trying not to sound scared at the thought. "Did you… come to tell me something?" she asks.

"Well … that depends," Barada says as her lips play with a knowing smile. "We sensed a little burp on the world you're hiding on, you see. Why, I think you must have found something very interesting. I might be inclined to give you a few more hints as to help your … situation in trade for information on just what you found and where one of our children can collect it for us. That's fair, right? You help us and we help you… "

"It was a ghost," Envoy says. "I don't think you can really make use of that, I'm afraid. It may be gone now."

"Oh? Well, something must have granted it such power. I'm sure under our guidance it could prove the salvation of my children," Barada says. She leans in close to touch her nose to Envoy's before continuing, "Or if you tell me about the ghost perhaps I can convince my dear sister, Sunala to collect it so we can ask it directly. That is, if she will speak to me again. Her deals with you mortals have … ah, but such are not concerns for you."

"You want to see the children of the wing strong and proud again, don't you?" Barada asks. Her smile, though, is cold.

"It was a frightened child, and didn't have a name," the Aeolun says quietly, pulling her head back just a little. "Or the memory of an event burned into the location. I'm still researching. And surely, your children hardly need my help. They have you! I'm sure if this was something worth knowing, you'd already know it, right?" she asks, trying to sound flattering.

"Oh, there is always more to learn," Barada says sweetly and even kisses Envoy's nose tip. "So, you really don't know much more than that? It's hardly worth the effort of telling you more than I already have, you know." As she slides her hands down Envoy's arms, she adds, "And we don't need your help, this is true. It does not mean we would not desire it. Maybe, in time, you would even be willing to rejoin us. The rewards of serving us are worth it… "

"I'll certainly have you in the forefront of my thoughts as I try to figure it all out, Barada," Envoy says with a smile. "But tell me, what would you have done if I had been the source of that… burp?"

"Oh, ask my children to seek you out and bring it to one of my temples, of course," Barada says and taps Envoy's nosetip with the tip of one of her claws. "Uncover its secrets, then perhaps share them with Dear Rephath to avenge the shame visited upon our people." "I thought you might want to wait until the Leviathan was awakened," Envoy says. "I could hardly finish that goal if I was being interrupted all of the time. And from what I have found out, it is something far more powerful… "

"You might find the examination a little … painful of course. But it is for the greater good," Barada promises, "To give your life to honor the Sister's greatness … could there be no greater honor?" Barada pauses at that and taps her lower lip with her index finger. "Oh? Is that so? I already know much about it. So why don't you tell me what you know and I'll tell you if you are right or not," she offers.

"The source of that pulse was a failed experiment, which in itself was merely a baby-step towards the Leviathan," Envoy claims. "I already have most of what I need to awaken it. I just need to… work out a reliable power source."

Barada purses her lips. "Oh, good, then you found out what it lacks and where to find them. I believe you just may be on the right path. My faith in you and your service to the Sisters was not misplaced, no matter what Inala says about you," she claims. The 'young Eeee' then elbows Envoy lightly and notes, "Between us, Inala is just mad your body lacked certain anatomical features she is quite fond of. Oh, you would not believe how much she complained. Why, I had to kill her for a bit to silence her." She giggles rather disturbingly at that.

"Well, haha… it's all in good fun, yes?" Envoy replies nervously. "Maybe some time I'll kill her myself, just to show there are no hard feelings… "

"Oh, I wouldn't do that. At least, not before she gives you the gift she has planned," Barada says as she smiles ever so sweetly.

"Oh, a gift?" Envoy asks, thinking of all the horrible stories about the gifts of the Seven Sisters. "My reward for bringing the Leviathan back to Babel, I suppose?"

"Oh no no no," Barada says, "But if I told you any more … it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?" The Eeee taps her lips again.

"I understand," Envoy says, nodding and putting a finger to her own lips. "I know how much Inala likes her surprises."

"See? Really, you are so much like us. A Sister in all but name, truly," Barada claims and drapes her arms around Envoy's neck again. "I guess I should let you get back to whatever inconsequential thing you were doing, no?"

"Ah, yes, if you would?" Envoy asks. "I wouldn't want my boyfriend to get worried… "

"Oh, I kept him occupied, don't worry," Barada promises … right before she kisses Envoy. And by kiss, well, it's the kind that makes everything go hazy and feel a bit like … noodles.

Occupied?! Envoy thinks in alarm, through all the noodling! What could that mean?

As the haze fades, Envoy finds herself standing back in the empty world where she met Morpheus only a short time ago. "Envoy?" she hears his voice behind her, "Are you all right? You look … shocked."

"She looks confused to me," the voice of Icarus says. It sounds like it's somewhere near Morpheus.

"I am shocked!" Envoy says, turning around. "What happened while I was gone? What did Barada do to you? How… Icarus? Is that really you, or… "

Morpheus and the hybrid are sitting around a table in this quiet wasteland. There's even a teapot and several cups of tea. "Barada?" Morpheus asks, "Was that who tried to make a dream trap to hold me when I dove into the stream after you vanished suddenly. Rather crude if you ask me. Trying to trap the God of Dreams with a dream trap? A badly played move."

"I evaded it easily enough … and when I went to where I knew you were last I met your friend here," Morpheus says as he waves a teacup at the human-cheetah.

"Ah, but it did distract you?" Envoy asks, and looks to Icarus. "You were able to draw him out of that forced dream then? Can you keep him with you until it's time to wake him up?"

"I kinda figured he might be your friend," Icarus admits as he fidgets with his own cup, "I mean, he's almost as odd-looking as you are. So I told him what happened. He said you were fine and could take care of yourself … and then he brought me here to talk for a bit, I guess."

"Yes, I evaded it," Morpheus says and nods, "And I had to trust you would be safe, since I couldn't find you again. I didn't feel comfortable with leaving this child alone, so I brought him here as he says. I don't know how long I can hold him here, though. Whatever is inducing his dream is … persistent." He holds up another cup and offers, "Tea?"

"I fear that everyone noticed the same disturbance that you did, Morpheus," Envoy says. "Barada certainly did, which means other gods likely noticed as well. How can I fend off the eventual investigators without… making weapons?" She reaches for the cup of tea, making sure her hands don't shake.

"Create a plausible cover story, I suppose," Morpheus says, "Is there anything left in the lab you could blame it on?"

Icarus raises a finger timidly. "Uhm, didn't you say I was a weapon?" he asks. "Can I help at all?"

"There is the system which originally caused it, I think," Envoy notes. "Something Von Bronson called a 'gravity drive' – it's a collection of crystal force emitters… " She gives a sharp look at Icarus, and says, "No! You are not to try and use the system embedded within you. It killed the previous users, and even if you are stronger than they were, it isn't worth the risk. I might be able to survive using it, but… I could only attempt it if I could find a defensive use for it, like some sort of force-field… "

"What exactly did Barada want this time?" Morpheus asks as his white eyes narrow and a frown forms on his lips. "And a gravity drive? Hm … if the name implies what I think it does. Interesting… "

"She wanted to know about the source of the gravity warp," Envoy says. "She wants weapons for Babel, including the Leviathan. If Icarus used it, then they'd know he was the weapon and would stop at nothing to possess him for study."

Icarus actually shrinks back and clutches at his cup. "Sorry," he whispers. " … only wanted to help."

"Maybe I can bury the other one deeper down, in the sub-caverns," Envoy suggests. "What do you think they were, Morpheus? Part of a portable gateway generator? Did the Sifras have spaceships that would use something like that?"

"Think about how a gateway works. I believe the common term is a 'wormhole'? Where two points in the Universe are brought together by warping gravity so much they 'touch'? I have a feeling Von Bronson may have 'borrowed' some gateway components. Or as you say, part of a ship's engine," Morpheus says and takes a sip of his tea. "Being able to control gravity, well … that would grant you many abilities."

"I can do that now in a limited way," Envoy says, rubbing her chin. "And know what sort of tricks you can do with it. It all just makes me more determined not to let anyone have it who might use it as a weapon. There was something else about it, too, Morpheus," Envoy notes, looking at the not-quite-Khatta. "You, or something very like you. Where you originally something called a 'quantum manipulator'? That seems to be a key component."

"Me?" Morpheus asks, "Envoy, all of the Sifras engines are at their core, quantum manipulators. They alter and manipulate quantum states to a desired effect. That's why being near one that's active … things are a bit unstable. I was likely part of one once, and due to the random forces of chaos … became aware."

"Do you really think it would kill me?" Icarus asks suddenly.

"There's probably one in Icarus' head," Envoy notes. "If you used it at full force, like Von Bronson wanted, it could damage your body. Maybe limited use would be safe, but you don't have the second 'control' imprint that has the operating parameters – and from what I saw of those, I think Morpheus is right in thinking the parts came from a gateway system."

"That would make him … oh dear," Morpheus says.

"A teleporter?" Envoy asks Morpheus.

Icarus hands' shake a bit, so he puts down the cup. "It would make me what?" he asks.

Envoy blinks and seems to realize something…

"That is one of the things it may allow him to do. He would also be a generator of the field Sinai calls 'magic'," Morpheus says. "A sentient generator of the field. Which means he could potentially control all of its effects, good and bad."

"That burst, it wasn't a replay of the past, it came from the past, didn't it?" Envoy asks Morpheus. "The previous subject's power opened a wormhole from over 70 years ago to the present. That could be the reason for all of the ghost images… " "You saw an echo of a previous quantum state," Morpheus says, "I suspect your own natural affinity for magic may have helped nudge it into replaying. And why no one else that visited the lab ever saw anything."

Envoy sips her tea quietly for a moment. "So, Icarus could be a mobile, self-contained Lesser Interface?" she finally asks. "The Chaos Mages would make him their king… "

"Maybe you should just … turn me off," Icarus whispers. "That's what you do to a machine, right?"

"Effectively, yes. He's a localized Lesser Interface, if the notes you found are correct," Morpheus agrees.

"We're all machines here," Envoy points out. "I fought to save Morpheus. So I have no reason to give up on you now, Icarus. We just have to be careful is all. If you can generate magic, then you can probably nullify it as well, and that could protect you from a lot of things."

"I don't want to be a problem or a danger to anyone. I want to live. I want to see all the things my 'life' has hinted at," Icarus says as he looks into his cup. "Some names, some places, ghosts. I want to learn about the people I'm made from. Were they good people? But … both of you seem to thing I'm some great and powerful thing . I don't want my existence to cause anyone else pain and if I'm dangerous… "

"It is easily resolved by just having you not use any of your power, and without the final mental imprint that should not be a problem," Envoy says. "And if it comes to it, I can try to find a way to deactivate the crystal mechanisms inside of you. Right now, you merely have the potential for some things. That is hardly a reason to panic or worry just yet. Morpheus, maybe you can show him some dreams from normal people, so he has an idea of what the world is like? Oh… and I should ask if Cypher is doing alright?"

"Stop there," Morpheus says and places his hand over one of Icarus' arms. "And listen. None of us got to choose how we came to be or what we are. What matters is what you do with it. You are not a problem for me. And I think I can speak for Envoy in that you are not one for her, either. You are only dangerous if you choose to be. Remember that."

"I can try. It is difficult enough having him here. The machines connected to him are crude, but persistent, in what they want him to see," Morpheus tells Envoy. "I can best help teach him once he is disconnected from them. He needs to be removed from that stasis pod."

"And Cypher is doing okay. I crafted her a body on my world. She's building a sculpture garden. It is … very symmetrical," Morpheus notes with a half-smile.

"I may have some data for her to look at, if she's amenable," Envoy says. "The imprint data had a lot of interesting functions in it."

"Then … I want to learn how to use what is inside me," Icarus says and nods once. "You are both doing so much for me, I want to be able to repay you some day if you are ever in trouble. And … I don't want to feel ashamed of any part of me."

"She loves puzzles. If you can focus on it the next time you use the … rose, I can copy it to her," Morpheus says. "Plus, she will be happy, I think, to know you asked about her."

"If Cypher can make sense of the data, then you should be able to learn it the proper way, without a bunch of other stuff meant to control you," Envoy says, then thinks for a moment. "This is the voice of Dr. Von Bronson," she suddenly says in the appropriate voice. "Stand up and stick your tongue out."

Icarus looks really confused for a moment. "Uhm, no?" he answers.

"Good!" Envoy says, back to her normal voice and smiling. "The loyalty conditioning must be in the second imprint, otherwise you'd already have it. Another reason to find a way to avoid using it, especially since the equipment is not in the best shape."

"Hah! I just realized something," Morpheus says and grins.

Envoy blinks, and looks to Morpheus. "What?"

"I can't believe nether of us thought of this right off," the not-Khatta says, "If he has a gravity drive … then I suspect he is capable of flying without wings."

"Fly, what? Like, in the air?" Icarus asks.

"Also capable of tearing himself apart with tidal shearing forces," Envoy points out. "His namesake is also known for flying too close to the sun and melting his wings of wax. I do not want him accidentally sending himself into orbit."

"That sounds painful," Icarus admits and wilts.

"Hm. I would think they tried to account for some of that, somehow," Morpheus says, "What exactly were the genetic grafts? And do you know the reasoning behind each?"

"Silent-Ones DNA, for increased cellular robustness," Envoy says. "The others sort of… started to fall apart from the power being channeled through them. Either it aged them or caused the collagen in their cells to begin to decay. If it drew power from the cells themselves, then it could have destroyed their mitochondria… but it's possible that Silent-Ones evolved with those functions within their own DNA instead of symbiotically… "

"Silent-Ones do have increased metabolic rate, which allows them their speed," Morpheus notes, "So that would follow. It may also mean he will recover from injury faster than a human. Not on par with your ability to repair yourself, but it should make him a little more durable."

"If it's all the same to both of you, I'd rather not be hurt," Icarus says and even grins weakly.

Envoy hmms. "If I had my cousins' specialized brain lobes I would know how to read and manipulate gravitational fields myself. It would certainly make using the devices safer."

"As well as teaching him easier," Morpheus notes, "But … something you may wish to try. Expose him to to some of your gravity manipulation rituals some time. It would be interesting to know if he can sense the nuances."

"That should be a good start, yes," Envoy notes. "I need to try them using the crystals as my circle too, to get a deeper insight into them. Perhaps I can replicated the effects of his implants via magic."

"Uhm, can I ask about some normal stuff for a second?" Icarus asks and holds up a hand as if he were in school. "Please?"

"Of course!" Envoy says, smiling.

"You mentioned claiming that I was an Exile instead of a … creation," Icarus says, "Will other people think I'm really odd looking? Will some people hate me just because of how I look? Would they hate me more if they knew I was … made?"

"That … depends on the people," Morpheus says. "I won't lie and say you will just be accepted. You will be an outsider to most, given how you look."

"Well, people don't usually hate me when I tell them that," Envoy notes. "But I look a bit like everything, whereas you look more specifically as a cross between a human and a Silent-One. On Abaddon, that will definitely have 'first glance' issues. But it is also easily dealt with using makeup."

"Make up?" Icarus grumbles, "I'm not a girl, you know!"

"Looks like they imprinted some things," Morpheus notes, "Like gender identity."

"I know, I've seen you naked in the pod already," Envoy points out. "Actors also wear makeup, as do… uh… spies… and secret agents. It would simply be a matter of making your fur a uniform color to hide the spots."

"Do humans and Silent-Ones hate each other?" Icarus asks.

"Silent-Ones believe in … genetic purity," Morpheus explains, "To them … you would be … and forgive me but I know no other term; an abomination."

Icarus wilts again. "Oh," he whispers.

"Humans may pity you, or think you are a victim some experimentation," Envoy notes. "They're usually willing to accept anything as a person though, if it talks. But you're mostly human, so I cannot predict their reactions. We could try to shave your face… "

"I'd rather not," Icarus says, "I would get cold!"

"Sinai has far more racial mixing than Abaddon, along with a high mutation rate on the surface, so you would not really stand out any more than I do there," Envoy notes.

Morpheus winces a bit and starts rubbing at his forehead. "Forgive me, but I think I need to cut this visit short for each of you. Icarus' pod is starting to wear on me. I can't keep his mind here much longer," he says.

"Very well! Hang in there, Icarus, and I should have you out within a day," Envoy promises. "I just need to make sure I can sew you up after the catheters are all removed so that you don't bleed to death." Of course, she's all smiles when she says this.

"Oh, that's okay. At least, well, people finally listened to me!" Icarus says and genuinely smiles. "And even if this was all a dream. At least I dreamt of people who cared about me, right?" he says as he fiddles nervously with his cup. "Even if you're both not real … I … No, I will believe you are. I have to believe; you're all I have." The comment about bleeding to death, well, he's getting good practice at wilting his ears. He tries to hold that smile, at least.

"Good night to both of you then. Perhaps some day we will meet in person, Icarus," Morpheus says and pats the hybrid's cheek. Icarus lifts his hand and waves to both as he fades away, leaving the Morpheus and Envoy alone.

"Inala is preparing a gift for me," Envoy tells Morpheus. "Should I panic yet?"

Morpheus' eyes skew a bit quizzically. "If that doesn't, then this along with it will. Envoy, I … I think we're both now parents," he says with an actual hint of dread in his voice.

"Hmmm, I should be cross with you then since you will not be present for the birth," Envoy says, and crosses her arms while looking mock-angry. "I will hold it over your head for many years to come."