The meal with Born-In-War went relatively well, all things considered. While he can seem to be cold most of the time, glimmers of amusement appear now and then as he watches the interaction between Icarus, Walter Thorndike, and Envoy. Even if he does not take direct involvement in the conversation, the levity doesn't seem to bother him, either.

The meal ends quickly enough and now comes the part where Envoy has to show or return items stolen from the Silent-One's that she uncovered in the remains of this old laboratory. To those ends, Envoy takes Born-In-War down to the demonstration/practice room to show him the remains of the modified Titan (now sans its Sifran power core, just to be safe and avoid unpleasant questions).

"What exactly was the purpose of this base and its primary subjects of research?" Born-In-War signs and his hand-gauntlet dutifully translates as the feline and Aeolun enter the training room. Icarus and Thorndike 'volunteered' to remain upstairs and clean up after their meal.

"I'm really not privy to all of the details," Envoy notes. "It was certainly engaged in esoteric weapons research – which I guess from the weapon on this Titan, Fearless-Eye may have also been?"

"Weapons are always a subject of research to ensure that we retain a firm leadership in combat," Born-In-War signs. The lanky Silent-One peers about the 'arena', expression impassive. Even without the mask he wears it is likely little motion would be readable on his face. "What weapon types were being researched here?" he asks as he heads towards the modified Titan.

"Does it matter?" Envoy asks, gesturing to the restrained Titan. "They were using your Titan to test them. From the rubble, it looks like the automated Titan was the aggressor, and defense technologies were being tested against it." She knows better, but it's not really a lie if the statement is still true from a deductive reasoning standpoint.

"Of course it matters. I assume they were testing some sort of implantable weaponry, given the monster that was at the old factory. Any research notes on such would be helpful in countering them in the future," Born-In-War signs as he circles the 'bound' Titan. "I am not familiar with all the specs of this model of suit, but there have been definite modifications," he then signs, "Some sort of remote module must replace a pilot. What was the pilot position then used for?"

"I… don't understand the question about the pilot," Envoy admits. "I don't know much about how Titans work. I just removed the power source to keep it from shooting at me."

"The pilot wears the armor. He normally resides in its core, the center," Born-In-War signs. "As for shooting at you, did it? If so, how did you survive? The large caliber chain weapon is deadly in its own right, but the plasma canon was extremely deadly. It was also flawed and hard to keep operational, so was never adopted widespread. It was relegated to being a device of 'shock and awe.'"

Envoy points to the various pockmarked barriers. "I hid behind these," she explains. "The machine intelligence would announce when it was charging the big weapon, so I had some warning. I also happened to know the voice of the man who created the brain for it, and it actually responded when I used it."

The Aeolun figures now really isn't the time to be telling ghost stories to the Silent-One.

Born-In-War actually opens a panel on the machine and pokes around inside. "It still has some power in its auxiliary batteries," he signs with one free hand. "Shall I reconnect it?"

"It's restrained, so… I guess that would be safe," Envoy replies, a bit uncertainly. "You can turn it off again if you have to, right?"

"Uncertain. It has been extensively modified," Born-In-War admits. He fiddles for a minute and a shower of blue sparks bursts out of the panel! The Silent-One barks, yanks his hand out quickly, and shakes it.

"This thing is ancient," Envoy notes. "Does it have any value still, if you could walk it out of here?"

"Sentimental value, but not much monetary. Plus given its modifications, it is not usable and would require extensive repair," Born-In-War signs with his right as he looks over his smoldering left hand.

"Are you injured?" Envoy finally thinks to ask, coming closer to see how bad the electrical burn is.

Lights start flickering on and off all over the restrained suit. Little arcs of electrical power ripple across its metal plating as the power ancient power cells seemingly bring it to life. As for Born-In-War's hand, it is singed at worst, there is no obvious sign of severe burns.

Envoy takes a step back when the metal monster shows signs of activation – and also because of the electrical arcs. She has a certain respect for electricity, given that her skeleton is a semiconductor.

The ancient servos fire up and the machine literally groans as it tries, and fails, to move in its restraints. "All those who oppose the Tribunal or those of the lesser species will be purged!" one of the speakers mounted into the device crackles in Aelfin. "Current downloaded core data contains fifty thousand distinct markers of inferior life for cross-refere … error Database corrupt. Attempting quantum checksum repair. Error, cannot access primary core, unit removed. Cannot restore from backup. Decision: eliminate all organic life."

"Now would be a good time to shut it down again," Envoy says. "It just said that it wants to eliminate all organic life!" She readies one of her Reshape spells, intent on trying to crush the machine if needed. "It doesn't have an explosive device built into it, does it?"

"Are you certain? That language is not one I recognize," Born-In-War states as he now takes a step back. "And no, it does not. The worst it could do is overload the reaction chamber used for the plasma canon, which would have a destructive radius of a mile, at best."

"We are well within that radius!" Envoy points out. "Can you disconnect the plasma cannon before that can happen?"

"Of course," Born-In-War signs, "You are too excitable." The Silent-One rubs his chin as he thinks about the best approach.

"Svartifin servant detected," the armor reports in Aelfin, "Provide ident code and allegiance marker or be cataloged for termination!"

"It may be simpler to just do a core purge and erase whatever this data is that is corrupting it. I am assuming that this Doctor must have reprogrammed it," Born-In-War signs.

Not having a code or marker to give, Envoy checks if Von Bronson had a fail-safe as well, and tries the Silent-One's suggestion. In the doctor's voice, she commands, "Power down plasma weapon systems and initiate core memory purge."

"Ident failure. Activating Omega directive!" the suit reports. Why is it that statements like that are always followed by an ominous hum?

"Why do robots hate me?" Envoy asks with a snarl, and uses her held spell to tighten the stone hand's grip around the armored suit to see if she can crush it fast enough to stop whatever it's trying to do.

"What have you done to annoy them?" Born-In-Warn signs, still completely calm about the whole thing. Envoy's spell quickly finds the armor itself is very difficult to compress. While the stone-hand strains, the Silent-One opens up one of the panels again and starts tinkering again. Sparks pop from the panel now and then as he works.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven … firble-whirp-noob!" recites the old Titan in broken Aelfin. The hum abruptly stops and Born-In-War pulls his hand back out and wipes it on his chest. "There. Whatever this thing was connected to corrupted its core memory. I cross-fed the data banks, which should wipe the crystal lattice," he signs.

Letting off on the pressure, Envoy asks, "So is it safe now?"

"It is completely dead, yes," born-In-War signs. Envoy would normally feel relieved, but the hairs on the back of her neck are starting to stand up. The room feels off somehow.

"You're sure?" Envoy asks, looking around nervously – almost as if expecting to see a ghost. "Do you feel anything unusual?"

"I feel fine," Born-In-War signs, "And nothing feels odd to me."

"I don't feel so good," remarks a quiet and small voice from directly behind Envoy. Envoy's butt starts feeling cold.

With a start, Envoy jumps to one side and turns to face what she expects to be a ghost.

Standing right behind Envoy is none-other than a faint image of Twelve. The human-ghost looks sick, if that's even possible. Faint trails of blood are coming from its eyes, ears, and nose. Its clutching its stomach and shaking.

"Did you say something?" comes the mechanical voice of Born-In-War's gauntlet. He's still busy checking over the ancient Titan.

"Oh, Twelve… where you linked to the Titan?" Envoy asks, reaching out to try and hold the child still.

Envoy's hand touches nothing but icy air as it passes through. It's probably a good thing, since the ghost vomits up what looks like bile and blood. It evaporates after a few seconds on the floor. The ghost's legs begin to shake.

"Tell me what's wrong," Envoy whispers to the ghost, upset that she can't hold it. "What can I do to make this stop, Twelve?" she quietly begs.

The ghost collapses to the floor without answering. A moment later Envoy can make out the faint shape of a gurney and two men dressed in medical 'scrubs'. "You heard the boss, take it to the dissection room," one tells the other. "Another systemic failure on use of gravitic implants." A scene Envoy has seen play out in numerous ways in this place, it seems. The repeat of a horrible moment in time, over and over; its actors having to 'live' it out, again and again; a veritable form of 'hell'.

"Did you say something," Born-In-War asks, his attention still on the Titan as the Silent-One tinkers.

"I'm dealing with ghosts, just ignore me," Envoy replies, and wonders just how to deal with them. She can't exorcise them like a Spirit Mage can! In desperation, she sings, "Synchronize!" to her own implants, hoping they might give her some options.

The world around her stops.

Envoy's senses are scrambled to say the least. All she can 'see' are sparks of blue and white. Sound is an indiscernible jumble of high and low tones. It seems like there are words within the noise, but for some reason she cannot process any of it. Sparks of hot and cold seems to ripple through her body along with moments of searing pain. She can feel muscles twitch and nerves scream in the chaos.

How long this goes on is anyone's guess. Envoy certainly can't tell how much time has passed before the chaos settles down and seems to leave her 'floating' in darkness. No, not quite floating. It feels like she's laying on something cold inside a dark room.

Once she thinks she can manage it, Envoy tries to sit up – just to make sure she's not restrained! "Hello?" she says into the darkness.

Sitting up turns out to not be difficult thankfully, so no apparent restraints. Something does seem wrong, though. Namely, her voice. There's only one tone to it … and it doesn't sound anything like she normally does. She also feels unusually cold.

Envoy reaches up to feel her throat, worried that she might have been injured. That's still a minor worry compared to the overall 'where am I' and 'is the robot about to explode' worries.

Ooookay, the throat she's feeling doesn't feel like her throat. There's no fur in it, for one. Come to think of it, her hands feel disturbingly bare, too.

Concerned now, Envoy tries to take full stock of her body in the darkness, checking her face, forehead and extremities while trying to stand up.

Things get odder. Her face feels … flat. Not just flat, it feels human. She finds wings are also missing, as well as her horn. Her body is clothed in some sort of baggy, generic, lab clothing if she had to guess. And … oops! Huh, that's definitely new. In her explorations she discovers that the body is, ah, very male. Parts are where she used to have nothing.

Envoy tries to stave off panic by thinking things through. There are several possible explanations, the first one being that none of it is real; a dream or mind game. That doesn't rule out that it is real, however, as she can think of two other scenarios – one where she was blown up and her ansible implanted, somehow, into a human, or the more likely possibility that she isn't real at all, but a spirit copy possessing someone – or even a 'blank' cloned body. "Is there anyone out there? I'm awake," she calls out, still unable to think of herself as a male just yet (even though technically she was never really 'female' in the first place).

There's no answer to Envoy's calls. It seems her eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness and she can make out the silhouettes of shapes around her. She also spots a single blinking light on what might be a far wall near what appears to be the faint outline of a door.

Envoy heads for the light, shuffling along until she gets the hang of the new center of gravity due to the lack of wings. She tries to think of the advantages this body might have, like strength.

Balance is definitely different. And wow, metal floors are cold to bare feet! Breathing also feels weird as air travels less distance through her head. As for sound, well, she can't orient her ears anymore, she has to turn her head, it's … rather annoying, really. Soon enough Envoy is standing next to the light. It looks like an illuminated switch of some sort.

Envoy pauses. It's the only obvious control she's seen. It could be a trap, or a trick or… She flips the switch, since there really isn't any other choice except to sit around and wait.

There's a soft hum overhead and then lights flicker on in the room. It's a room she recognizes immediately, even though it is in much better condition than she last remembered it: the dissection chamber. That cold bed she was laying on? Well, it was an operating table … surrounded by nasty looking implements.

With the light on, Envoy blinks and tries to figure out exactly what's different, but her memory doesn't seem as sharp. "Am I Number Twelve now?" she asks out loud, and studies her new body's hands in case… well, she has no idea if they would look any different.

Her hearing is different, but the voice does bear some resemblance to Twelve's voice from what she remembers. As for her hands, well, they look human … and young. The right one bears the mark XII tattooed into the skin.

Thinking, Envoy looks to the wall where the researcher was thrown and splattered, to see if there's any sign of the event.

The wall is clean.

"So, this must be… before the combat simulation," Envoy reasons. "Maybe I've just been woken up?" She tries to see if the door is locked or not.

Figures. The door is locked.

Trying a different tactic, Envoy calls out, "Dr. Daedalus, are you listening?"

Still no response. The room is as silent as a morgue.

Looking at Twelve's hands again for a moment, Envoy holds them towards the door and… stops. A normal human body doesn't meet the gravity drive requirements well – if she tries to use it, she'll be causing damage to Twelve. Instead, she knocks on the door.

The knock echoes in the room and there is the faint sound of an echo out in the hallway as well. A minute passes, no response.

Envoy begins searching for something to try and force the lock with. Like a hammer. She understands hammers.

There are some medical hammers in the room. Unfortunately, the door looks rather strong. It may not be enough.

Taking some deep breaths, Envoy figures she's going to have to try it after all. She faces the door and holds her hands out like she remembers seeing the spirit do, and thinks about pushing to see if the implants respond.

Something seems to 'click' and the world around Envoy seems to shift slightly. There are faint images that appear around every object in her field of view, indistinct waveforms, thin threads flowing between each object; perhaps the interactive forces that all matter exerts on each other. Some people say everything is connected in the universe and for the moment, Envoy can see the connections. Even those of the door, its frame, the lock, the slides, everything is visible to her. It feels like she could reach out and touch any of them.

This makes it a lot easier, to Envoy's thinking. She focuses just on the lock, trying to urge the mechanism to switch over to the state of being unlocked.

It turns out to be harder than she realized … mainly because she has to think backwards in order to do it. She isn't manipulating the tumbler directly, but the pull on the tumbler by the surrounding framework. Certain strands grow in brightness as she works and the tumbler begins to move. Pins are pulled into the right positions by the increased draw around them. As each pin falls into place, a tingling sensation in her new hands grows stronger. It begins to trickle up her arms just as the last pin falls into place and the lock turns with a soft click.

Shaking out her arms to try and relieve the tingle, Envoy goes over and tests if the door will open now.

Envoy's new legs buckle a bit as she walks towards the door, her entire body feeling suddenly weak. She manages to steady herself, though, by grabbing the door handle. It takes a small tug, but the door opens.

Envoy wasn't expecting the energy drain to be so severe, and takes a moment to rest while just peeking out into the corridor. If that's all it takes to wear out Twelve, no wonder he fell apart after that warp burst in the battlefield, she thinks.

The lighting in the hallway beyond is low. Nothing more than 'emergency' lights illuminate the corridor. It may actually be late at night right now, which would explain the lack of people and sound in the complex other than the occasional hiss of machinery.

Once she's able, Envoy tries getting to her feet. The dormitories and Dr. Daedalus' office were on this level, after all. Maybe she can find the doctor alone.

As Envoy heads down the hallway, she spots light coming from around one of the doors; the door to the research laboratory. The color of the light seems to flicker and shift a bit from white to pale blues.

Envoy tries to be quiet as the door gets closer, and attempts to ease up close enough to listen at it.

The only sound beyond is the soft hiss of machinery and the gurgling of fluids.

Carefully, Envoy tests to see if the door is locked. There's no way for her to know if it has an alarm, but since nobody showed up when the other door was opened she thinks it's probably safe.

This door is unlocked. Somehow, that figures. As it slides back Envoy gets a good look in the room and finds the source of the light. A tank of flickering-blue liquid sits in the middle of the room. The flickering comes from lights on the machines surrounding it turning on and off for some reason. The light also illuminates a small object floating inside the tank. If she had to guess, it is no bigger than a watermelon. There are other dark, thin, shapes in the liquid, perhaps wires or tubes.

Getting close so she can press a hand to the tank, Envoy peers in. "Thirteen?" she whispers, trying to see if there are crystals glowing through the membrane.

Inside the tank is an almost human child, only slightly larger than an infant. A thin layer of white hair seems to be growing on its body, along with slightly dark patches where spots may form. Its skin is still disturbingly translucent, making its muscles and organs such as eyes visible vaguely through it. Ripples of light seem to flow along where its bones likely are, illuminating their shape. Numerous tubes and wires snake about the small body and entering it in various places, including several that feed directly into its head. Every now and then the body twitches, or small fingers and toes flex.

"I didn't realize they'd started you while Twelve was still alive, but… it must take a long time for a clone to develop," Envoy notes, and smiles – which feels weird when the whole face is involved. "I'm not sure what I should be doing while I'm here. I think I need to find Dr. Daedalus and tell her… Tell her that hiding you away is the right thing."

As Envoy talks to the chamber, something strange happens. Envoy finds herself looking into two shimmering, small, blue eyes with delicate vertical slits. The iris, even through the liquid, seem to ripple and sparkle with an inner light. They look so young … and the old saying of the eyes are the windows to the soul are true … so innocent. So full of wonder.

"Can you see me?" Envoy says to the developing child, and actually waves. "Of course, you won't recognize me when we really meet. Unless Twelve's ghost managed to send my mind back in time after all, so… so he could what?" Envoy isn't sure, really, what's going on, but can't discount time-travel when gravity warps are involved and no actual matter or energy can be said to have been transferred. "I need to go find your mother," she tells baby-Icarus.

"Unit Twelve," remarks a stern, feminine, voice from behind Envoy moments later. "How is it that you are awake? Respond."

Turning in surprise, Envoy actually stands somewhat at attention. "Uh… "

Doctor Daedalus is staring down at Envoy through some rather 'harsh-looking' reading glasses. She's dressed as one would expect from a scientist, a lab-coat with a myriad of stains on it and her hair tied back. She carries a clip board in her right hand and what looks like a coffee cup in her left. When no response comes from Envoy as to why Twelve is awake, she asks, "Was the command not recognized? You have basic language processing knowledge, so it should have been understood. Why are you awake?"

"Oh, well… this is going to be a little hard to explains," Envoy says, rubbing the back of her/his neck. "I'm not actually Twelve right now. He seems to have engineered a mind swap with me… in 6106."

Doctor Daedalus actually blinks at that. She sets her coffee cup on a tray near the door entrance and lifts up her clipboard. "Unit Twelve is demonstrating significant mental failure," she remarks as she writes, "And evidence of personality dissociation."

"Look, I can prove it… uh, I think," Envoy claims. "I don't know what sort of knowledge Twelve has of this base, but I know quite a bit. Like where Dr. Von Bronson got the gravity drive components woven into this body."

"Unit Twelve is also referring to itself as a distinct entity," Daedalus remarks as she continues to write, "Possible evidence of cognitive development and self-awareness. The unit referred to … " It's there the scientist pauses and looks up from her clip board. "Excuse me?" she asks, "What did you just say?"

"Below the simulated battleground is another cavern," Envoy explains. "The incinerator chute leads to it, when the incinerator isn't turned on it's possible to get there – like Fearless-Eye did. That's the name of the Silent-One whose hand and Titan Dr. Von Bronson appropriated. He survived until the drone from the Sifra's ship found him. Taking the power sphere and the other components from it caused it to wake up, eventually."

Daedalus taps her pen on the spine of her clip board. "Is this some sort of prank?" she asks tersely. "Doctor Von Bronson will be very displeased if someone has been injecting knowledge into Unit Twelve to enact some sort of ridiculous prank. Not to mention the risk to the unit when we have to do a synapse purge to clear it out."

Envoy sighs. "Look, is there anything I can do to convince you?" she asks. "Have you already begun preparing the hidden incubation chamber for Icarus? I mean… uh… Subject Thirteen."

Daedalus' eyes narrow. She reaches back and closes the door behind her. A soft 'click' hints at a lock being set. "I do not know what you are talking about," she says, her voice taking on a stiff edge to it.

"I can show you were the hidden door is," Envoy says. "I can tell you… well, hmm. I can't do anything to change events that I know will happen, but that doesn't mean I can't work to bring them about, either. You don't want Thirteen to end up like Twelve and the others. Especially since Dr. Von Bronson is going to drop this entire line of research in favor of a purely robotic solution pretty soon. I know Twelve can't be saved. His day in the simulation against the Titan will be his last, but it will release enough energy to leave a powerful imprint – enough for me to see it all happen again when I eventually show up in the future. I'm going to find Icarus and wake him up, and make sure that he gets a chance to have a real life."

Daedalus stares at Envoy/Twelve for a rather uncomfortable minute with an unwavering gaze. "Who and what are you?" the scientist finally asks. This time her voice is lower as if she wants to be sure no one else will hear.

"My name is Envoy of Lothrhyn, and I'm an Exile, although I don't know if you have that term yet on Abaddon," Envoy explains. "I'm from another universe, and arrived on Sinai through one of the many Sifran portals on that world. It's a rare occurrence, but not so rare that the populace is unaware of it. I'm also a magic user – which is to say I have some command over the lesser Sifran reality control system. It's shut down on Abaddon in your time, but in mine it's active again. Just… don't ask me to try and explain how I'm here in Twelve's body right now, because I don't know if I can."

Daedalus rolls her pen between her fingers. "Assuming that I believe what you say," she says, "which is questionable at this moment, what reason do I have for not calling the guards right now? If you are from the future as you claim, then your knowledge could be used to circumvent failures. Perhaps save other lives." Her expression remains hard, but there is an undercurrent in her voice that betrays emotion in the scientist.

"I don't know if time travel works like that," Envoy says, shaking Twelve's head. "My own creators avoided having to deal with it. But I have to assume that if anything I know happened changes, then the circumstances that brought me here might not occur, assuming there is a natural law to prevent paradoxes. There are certain events that are going to occur here where… I'm not entirely certain the outcome was what it appeared to be – including your own death."

"And now you claim that I will die soon?" Daedalus asks. Her voice suggests there is truth to the claim, even though the question tries to refute it. The woman finally then sighs and says in a near-whisper, "Everyone in this cursed project deserves to."

"I don't know what happens to the others," Envoy says. "But… there is a mystery surrounding your death. The recording you make includes the arrival of Dr. Von Bronson, and it certainly seems like he shoots you in the head. But… there is an element of the impossible involved. I can explain it better in your office."

"I have to check the vitals of Thirteen. The genetic grafting was the most complex attempt yet," Daedalus says as she walks forward, and past, Envoy/Twelve. She doesn't even look back as she checks over the values on various gauges and readouts. She scribbles down the results on her clipboard.

Envoy waits patiently. She has plenty to keep her occupied between the way a human body feels and the way Twelve perceives the world around him.

Twelve's perception is pretty strange, everything has subtle waveforms around it that only become 'obvious' when Envoy tries to focus on it.

It's like how a stelya-rhyan sees things, Envoy thinks, remembering her own experience with her space-going cousins. Lines of magnetic and gravitational force, kinks and folds and… well, this isn't quite the same. I can't be seeing just that now – it's more like an interface or diagram of what can be manipulated instead.

Daedalus seems to finish taking notes on her clipboard. The scientist sets aside her clipboard now and opens the chamber containing Thirteen. Carefully the human reaches into the liquid and cups her hand lightly against the cheek of the young Thirteen inside. The harshness of her expression fades as she stands there with her thumb lightly caressing the child's cheek. "You said he has a future?" Daedalus asks.

"I've adopted him," Envoy says, smiling. "He seems happy. We've met his Silent-Ones relatives, and they have offered an education. He gets on well with others, too. He is very skilled with his power, but I make sure he does not overextend or expose himself – there are those still interested in such ability, and I'm not about to let them get their hands on Icarus. We had pizza just before I ended up here. The plasma cannon on the Titan was about to explode, actually. If you can tell me a quick way to disable it before I head back… if I head back… I'd appreciate it."

"You adopted him?" Daedalus asks. "Would … would you like to touch him then? It broke all the rules of interaction we had with the test subjects to touch them during gestation … but. I just … I don't see them as experiments anymore. One look into their eyes and it's like you can see their soul; their innocence. It's ironic, I guess. Those without souls are us, not them. I don't know if we could ever be forgiven for what we have done."

Envoy goes up and reaches in to touch the infant, gently. Human touch seems very sensitive compared to her own. "I know that Twelve's spirit will persist for quite some time," Envoy notes. "Behind the conditioning, yes… they are still very human."

As Envoy/Twelve's hand touches the child in the warm liquid, the child reacts. Its small hand comes up and its fingers curl lightly on Envoy/Twelve's arm. Such small fingers, really. They continue to flicker and glow with inner light as the crystal within reacts to the conditions around it. "It is hard to see them as weapons," Daedalus says. "Well, not for some, I suppose. Doctor Von Bronson cares little for the concepts of the soul and the rights of life."

"Perhaps that's why he keeps failing to get what he wants," Envoy comments, grinning madly at Icarus' grip. "He will return to this project, decades from now after having to recreate your research, but I don't plan to let him get very far. Be sure to destroy your notes, I suppose. And… hmmm. I don't know that you were really killed. Dr. Von Bronson managed to fake his own death with a clone, and went into hiding. There is overwhelming evidence that someone made sure I would find your message about Subject Thirteen."

"If he wants it so badly, then he should graft himself instead of subjecting the innocent to the procedure," Daedalus comments a bit dryly. "As for my notes and me dying," she starts to say and looks back to Envoy/Twelve. "I have a plan to find pea … Envoy are you all right?" Envoy suddenly finds herself not feeling right. Her limbs feel heavy and unresponsive and sound is becoming more muted, as if she were hearing through a tunnel. Color is also beginning to bleed away from her vision.

I'm heading back? Envoy wonders as her strength and awareness seem to drain away.

The last thing Envoy remembers is seeing Daedalus rush to try and grab her and the final, brief, look she sees from the young Icarus. The next sensation is like a blink and Envoy finds herself standing in the simulated battlefield again.

Shaking her head, Envoy looks towards the Titan to see if it's still getting ready to blow.

"There, primary reaction chamber has been rendered inert," Envoy hears the metallic tin of Born-In-War's translation glove say as he closes up the hatch. "Envoy, are you even listening?"

"I… " Envoy starts to say, and turns her attention elsewhere; searching for Twelve's spirit.

She can't see it, but she feels something still in this room. She feels as if Twelve is still watching her and oddly, that he's smiling. There are vague senses of another as well, a young girl, perhaps somewhere near Twelve. There are no words spoken, but there is sensation of concepts. Remember. Understand. Meaning. Purpose. Of course whatever that means is unknown … and all the feelings soon fade. She then feels Born-In-War tapping her on the back of her head as he tries to get her attention.

"Oh, yes?" Envoy asks, turning to face the Silent-One. "Sorry… the pizza must have gone to my head for a moment… "

Born-In-War shakes his head. "There is little of salvage value in this old unit. You are welcome to keep it," he signs, "Let us return to the others."

"Oh, yes," Envoy says. "We can gather Fearless-Eye's remains when you are ready, and when I'm feeling a little more… fully in the here and now. Do you mind having to ride in a flying bathtub when the time comes, or would you prefer some sort of harness and crane?" Envoy isn't really listening for the Silent-One's reply – she's thinking about Dr. Daedalus' office, and what just happened. I have to take another look at that data pad and… funny. I almost had myself convinced that I was the one that must have hidden the data pad in the wall before I found it. Time travel is weird, if it happened.