When a God Speaks

Looking up from his work to the door to his sanctum, so hastily cast open, his eyes weary from beige parchments and numbers, shifting focus to the somewhat panicked man now before him, panting, meeting him a hard expression of disapproval at the intrusion into his work. Placing his head in his hands for a brief moment as he drew them down across his eyes, using his middle fingers to rub the sides of his nose, before finally threading them together and, using his elongated thumbs and index fingers, resting on them

"sorry boss... but there's sum'i... something you need to see"

As his employee desperately fumbled with one of the monitors to bring up the news feed playing the recording of this 'terror attack in Washington' he continued to glare, what dwindling remnants of his patience were left being taxed with the mere presence of this individual. If not for his abilities as a barkeep, he would most likely have been found floating in the bay, choked to death on his own tongue.

"They 'tacked the White-house..."

Rolling his fingers down as his head lowered, his brow furrowing as the sound finally kicked in, the discordant clamor of panic and genuine fear for life filling his lounge, as news reporters butchered words and distorted meaning as they normally did, his interest peaking at the oration of this enigmatic individual when they finally repeated his words,

"Homo superior..."

A single chortle rolled forth as a smile broke across his face, widening as the display proceeded, everything about it seeming to amuse him more and more, from the wondrous display of control to the supreme arrogance, all causing an unusual mirth and joy fill him at there sight, and even more so, the living picture of a terrified simpleton watching a screen in despair as this man single handedly laid siege to the country's seat of power, as though he feared for his very life and liberty, that one of the spheres might find him through the screen and bring about a harsh reckoning upon him.

"Such a time to be alive..."

His employee turning to him in abject horror upon the words hitting his ears, unsure of how to understand, or even comprehend the deep seated amusement he was finding in these events, growing visibly fearful as he raised himself from behind the desk, hands flat upon it as laughter broke forth, strangely warm and playful, but yet chilling him to his core, only compounded when it stopped as abruptly as it began, a curled smile left in its place.

"Go... Get everything ready... We are going to be very busy for the foreseeable future"

Leaving quietly from the room, the soft waft of air as the door swung itself closed behind startling him as though someone had breathed on his nape, shivering as he heard the brief sound of chuckling before it finally sealed.

-Chicago-

Batman sat atop a rooftop, eyes narrowed. The mugger he had encountered in the alley below lay at his feet, jaw dislocated and a new understanding of why people should be scared of the dark permanently embedded in his mind. For all intents and purposes it was a normal night or as normal as they got since the Dark Knight had arrived on New Earth. After today however, nothing was going to resemble normal again.

The morning had been spent attempting to rebuild his resources. That venture in and of itself was proving long and strenuous despite his considerable intellect. A new dimension meant having to develop a new identity, a new place in the world, and that meant he had to obtain meetings with prominent individuals. The tech level of New Earth was lacking compared to his own world and that meant opportunities for innovation. It was the same tactic that Tony Stark had taken, but Bruce Wayne was not Tony Stark. A high profile and a cozy relationship with New Earth's government officials was not in the cards. Thus Bruce had been in the office of a high ranking executive of a medical supply manufacturing company. He had hacked the man's schedule, made an appointment for himself along with providing various fake credentials, and had prepared to explain his plans for a bio-foam that could seal deep wounds and revolutionize battlefield medicine. It was the same path he taken when selling the formula for an old Batmobile cockpit glass. His personal design would still be superior, but the safety glass would have civilian and military applications and help him regain some of the fortune left behind in Gotham.

The meeting never happened. Waiting in the lobby to meet the executive a secretary alerted the entire room to something on her computer. News alerts lit up cellphones and a wall mounted television displayed what was unfolding in Washington DC. A superhuman in a costume he was unfamiliar with was angered over the same reports of neo-human kidnapping and experimentation he himself was following up on and he was making a display of his rage, one that was adding gasoline to a fire already stoked to capacity. The 24/7 news cycle ran the footage over and over again, columnists wrote op-ed pieces about the End of Days and the scourge of powered people, and cable news shows invited so-called experts to discuss the impact this had on America and the world. Stocks plummeted as investors feared war with superhumans spreading into the street.

Thus the Dark Knight was rewatching the footage himself from every available angle, his cowl display dissecting the movements of the man in red. it was safe to assume based on his use of the term homosuperior that he was not from the same world as Batman nor one of its variants. The common Metahuman term was one he had not heard in some time now. He was definitely a vagrant as well. And his powers were...troublesome. It did not take the World's Greatest Detective to recognize that his abilities seemed to effect metal and considering the sheer amount of metal that went into everyday things that made society function...

"Computer, scan database of all known metahuman criminals and heroes alike. Search term magnetism. Display data when correlated and indexed. Pull any available data on Doctor Polaris, incidents in which he was defeated, and means used to accomplish the task." he ordered.

Whoever this man was, Batman had to be ready. A plan for dealing with an opponent capable of using magnetic attacks was already forming, but whether or not he had the resources to assemble it properly was another matter. It seemed he had yet another problem to work through, another thing pulling his focus from finding a way home. 

As if Stark was not bad enough. Now this. I should be able to shave another hour from my sleep to dedicate to researching anti-magnetic weaponry and magnetic negating fields. @wonderwoman is not going to like that my head is slipping further into the Bat as she calls it, but we must be ready. This man in the helmet has just taken a manageable situation and turned it into a complete disaster. Diana and I are going to have to contact the others, dampen the flames as best we can, and prevent any reckless action taken against this...Magnet Man to further exasperate the situation.

From what he'd seen, this new world was very different from the one he'd come from. In his own world, those with power and abilities beyond the scope of man were viewed as gods, heroic protectors that might stave off villainy. They built statues and named buildings after them. It was sickening. Here, however, they were judged with far more scrutiny, and rightly so. The government took active measures to contain the threat 'neo's posed; and that gave Luthor no small amount of glee. This new world, this failing society and its corrupt government, the oppressed people -- it was already prepared for Lex Luthor's rise to power. He just needed to get started.

One other thing: he had learned that he wasn't the only one to make the jump from one reality to the next, nor had he suspected any different. Individuals, some recognizable, had dropped into this world's concept of existence as suddenly as a ghost in a graveyard. It potentially posed a problem, especially should Superman or the rest of the League make an appearance, yet even that was not something that couldn't be planned for. And he had, yet for the moment he was vulnerable enough that the slightest of mistakes could lead to a disaster, and a perpetual stalling of his scheme. He could not afford to allow them to realize he was here; for now, he would stick to the shadows.

But it seemed others did not share his perspective.

The day was clear, neither too warm or too hot, and with an air filled with the common stench pollution wrought. In the Old World, Luthor would never have dreamed of walking among the people unless it served his interest, and then only as the multi-billionaire entrepreneur, or President, that he was. In this new reality, things hadn't changed. Lex blended with the crowd roving Las Angeles' streets. Though he'd initially found himself in the outskirts of Denver, he'd eventually found his way here. The vast diversity of cultures, ethnic backgrounds, and financial status suited his desires for the time being, though he planned to make for Chicago soon enough once he had secured... some manpower.

He passed by a storefront selling televisions. If Lex believed in any fate other than his own destiny to greatness, he'd swear prominence. Just as he passed the glass pane with a dozen or more sets, all playing different channels, they all switched to the same news feed. His eyes were drawn by the same voice his ears heard. He approached the glass, along with more than a few of the others around him. A man clad in crimson armor and with a billowing cape levitated before the house of America's leader. It became immediately clear that this was a man of power, but what was more, that he was very, very angry.

Lex watched, unblinking, as the superpowered being halted bullets aimed to kill without any sign of difficulty. While Lex pondered the effects of a force field that deflected gravitational forces, he knew already that it was owing to the neo's power. His theory was proven when the magnetic-controlling monster threw debris at the White House with as much ease as lobbing a dart in a bar. The destruction was impressive, yet Luthor doubted any serious damage was done -- or intended. If he'd wanted to cause lasting harm, he had little doubt the man on the camera would fail to do so. It was a message, more than any word spoken. And it was one that would impact hundreds of thousands, without fail.

As if on cue, he heard the muttering of a man on his right, "This is awful. If that kind of monster can do that in Washington of all places, how can we be safe anywhere?"

...And, out of the corner of his eye, Lex also noted a hooded man quietly slinking away from the crowd and fleeing far away. That would only be the start. As word would spread, panic and hatred would too; from both normal and neo alike. For Lex Luthor's part, he left with a distraught face but with a mind that leaped for joy. Such a powerful being was here, and hated the current regime to boot! If things went well, he'd be the perfect tool to bring about Lex Luthor's vision.

"Everything is going according to plan." He muttered later, as the sun set, and a haunting moon glared at a collapsing world. Soon, they would know their true savior. Not the magnetic Neo, no, nor any man of mythical power. They would finally meet their one true king; and Luthor's name would be the only one they praised.

It was the third knight in a nice hotel room that Sam had managed to save enough money to pay for a week in. It was one of those Mainstay suites that offered better rates for an extended stay. It was nice to take a break from everything. A break from all the traveling, and roaming. A break from hunting down the Neo criminals she could find. Her latest attempts at doing so had met with some difficulty. A bit of a fight, a bit of a lecture. Something had struck a cord with her, and so she really needed this break. It was a taste of an old life that had long since been taken away. It was a taste of the kind of life she might be able to have again.



The Sin Eater clothing was laid out on the second bed. She had washed it in the sink to keep anyone from seeing it. Sam barely noticed it was there as it was set to dry. The TV was on, playing one of her favorite old movies. Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. Sam was kicked back on the other bed, lounging in the robe that the hotel put in the room as a courtesy. With the movie on, she could lose herself in it and simply exist. That was, until the movie was interrupted by the news.



There was a costumed man floating in front of the white house! A Neo... either a very brave, or very stupid one. Sam didn't think much of the floating. She had seen lots of little things like that in her time hunting. The words he spoke, caught her attention fully. This man was giving out a warning.



“Homo-Superior... what the hell?” Sam would mumble quietly to herself as she continued to watch and listen. Taking this guy down is the kind of thing that would put Sin Eater on the map. All these words and posturing... his tune would change when he had the barrel of an H20 Tactical Shotgun aimed right between the eyes. That was her thought for merely a second before the shots were fired.



Sam's eyes got as wide as plates and scrambled to the edge of the bed to see the TV better. That guy... he stopped the bullets! He wasn't even looking and he stopped the rounds right there! Sam had never seen anything like that, and that was the least of it. Sam watched in shocked silence as the metal rose and ripped and formed before it was used to cause so much damage. She sat there in stunned silence for several minuted before she finally even blinked.



“They... get that powerful?” She asked whatever deity that would listen. Her hand shook a bit as she brushed back her hair that was just long enough to get in her eyes. “How the hell can I fight that? He stopped bullets...and...” she didn't even finish the thought as she stood up and paced the room. “If that one is that strong... then there are others. I... can't.” She stopped pacing and stared at the Sin Eater outfit that was on the spare bed. “I can't kill them all... not if they can be that powerful.” She stared at the costume, something weighing on her soul and mind.



Sam slowly went to her military green duffel bag, and pulled out one of her p99's. She grabbed the Sin Eater mask off the bed and looked into it's eyes for an oddly long moment. Almost as if it could stare back at her. In her mind, she was looking at the same thing her victims had. She was staring into the eyes of the Sin Eater. Sam sunk down on her bed, her mind and heart heavy. “If I can't beat them... my mission is over.” At the start of it all, Sam had sworn to herself that she would be the final Neo that she punished. If she wasn't going to be able to do that, her broken heart and mind thought it was time. She was tired of carrying the weight and the ache in her heart. A real life would be impossible after all she did. It was time. She set the mask down beside herself and closed her eyes, bringing the p99 up against her own temple. Her hand was trembling, a tear falling from her eyes. “Samantha Carter... Face your sins.”



But she couldn't. She dropped the gun and started to really cry. All the things bottled up inside came to the surface. She felt so weak compared to a monster like Magneto. She had even let some one stop her from killing a Neo criminal recently. And she felt weak because she couldn't even face her sins herself. Magneto's display of power had shaken Sam's world. She had no clue such power existed when she started her campaign. She thought it was all over, but then she heard a little voice in her head. Someone told her there was another way. Rather, someone told that to Sin Eater. Maybe there was. She was tired, she was hurt, and now more than ever she was afraid. There were options to weigh with what that man said. Lines would be drawn in the sand pretty soon. It was time to alter the mission. It was time to stop having her head in the sand. It was time... for the Sin Eater to truly rise.

Walking across the tarmac towards the vividly blue jet, Kris gave a small sigh to release the knots in her stomach. This was her first time doing a USO concert. Not that she didn't want one, just that she never gave it much thought. However, with recent events that have happened, and knowing how stressed and aggravated the world is right now, the least she could do is give some entertainment to those that put their lives on the line.

After boarding the airplane, Gensokyo Girl sat back in a soft, microfleece seat and turned on the massage setting. Removing her shoes, she rubbed her feet on the soft, plush carpet. Putting her headphones on and closing her eyes, she could feel herself drifting on the subtle waves of relaxation. Right now, she just wanted to rest before flying out to the military base. Behind the speakers the sound of the engines roaring to life was barely audible. The small jolt of the plane being taxied to the runway and flight diagnostics being ran.

Ever so gently, the idol started to nod off to sleep, but was woken but someone tapping her shoulder. Opening an eye, she saw that it was Bobby, her bodyguard and his face told her something was wrong. Taking off the headphones with the music still playing, she matched his facial expression. "What's wrong?"

"GG, you... need to see this..." He said, grabbing the remote for the TV and turning it on. On the screen was a man floating in air with metallic balls flying around him. With a firm motion, he sent the projectiles careening into the white house causing a lot of destruction. Unable to pull her eyes way from the screen, her jaw gaped in fear and confusion. After a few seconds, she was finally able to mutter the words, "W..what... just happened.."

"Our lives just got that much harder," Bobby replied, staring at the screen.

The knot in Kris's stomach returned, but this time with a vengeance. Doubling over from the pain, she stared, wide-eyed at the ground, trying to catch her breath. Bobby pushed a trash can towards her just in time as she heaved into it from the stress. This "Homo-superior" possibly just turned all humans against neos. Even the ones that previously supported them. Pulling out her phone, Kris dialed her mom. As it was answered, Mrs. Johnson stated "I saw.... Kris, are you going to be ok?" Forcing herself to answer, Lyric managed to croak out, "I... don't.... I think so... I'll be fine." But the chills running all over her body told a different story.

As the plane lifted into the air, her mind raced, the images replaying again and again. The scale of this war just grew exponentially. Whether she liked it or not, soon, she will have to be a part of it.

Spring had finally come into full bloom and Liliya could barely sit still. The earth was coming alive all around her. The grass outgrew its new trim after a day. Tender green leaves sprouted on the trees lining the streets. Birds and squirrels and all manner of creatures were coming out and getting busy with life, making new nests, new songs and new life. The feeling of everything waking up filled the air. Every morning, Liliya could be found leaning out her window to feel the morning rays of the sun on her face, still gentle on her delicate skin. The air hummed with energy and it proved contagious.

It had never been like this back home, in Siberia. Spring came in one great big rush then it was gone. It didn't linger like it did here. It didn't infuse the soul, egging one on to simply move. She could often be found doing a twirl here or a graceful arabesque in the kitchen as she opened the oven to check the cooking contents.

The other occupants of the retrofitted boarding house also worked for the infamous Red Hood. Some services were more mundane, like the kindly Ian Valenti, who handled matters like payroll and kept track of assets. Then Alicia, a doctor fallen from grace, kept them all in good health, patching them up with thread, bandages and tough love. Shinji, quiet, kind Shinji filled the old halls with his music, always a joy to her ears. There had been plenty of music at home but nothing like his masterful touch on a violin.

No one was surprised when Liliya and the mute musician became fast friends. He was near enough to her age and they were both considered odd. Her for her psychic gifts, and he for his only communication to be through music. Well, that and the fact when he was lost in the melody, the plant life began to sway, as though moved to dancing by the sheer power of his playing.

Today was especially beautiful. It was mild enough for most, a cozy 72 degrees and sunny with some cotton-puff clouds. For Liliya, it felt like the height of summer. At home, she'd be wearing her lighter clothes, but still covered her from the neck down. Today, she wore snug denim shorts and a red crop-top that left her back and stomach open to any wayward, cool breezes. Her long platinum tresses were allowed to flutter freely; the days weren't hot enough yet for her to tie them back into a braid.

Though Red Hood and others had always admonished her to stay hidden, Liliya hated being kept indoors. Yes, she understood she stood out. Her appearance was unusual. But it was such a gorgeous day! Did they expect her to stand in front of a window and just stare, aching to be outside, for the entire spring?

A robin landed on the window sill. He was handsome and sleek, with a bold red breast. He peered at her for a moment, then picked up the crust of bread she'd left there and flew away. A frustrated sigh escaped her. She wanted to be outside!

Frosty, lilac-colored eyes narrowed slightly as her jaw set in determination. She spun away, mentally seeking out Shinji. As usual he was in his own small, separate apartment. Spartan and very neat, with understated personal touches. Shinji was bent over his latest composition at a desk nearly as old as the boarding house. Liliya sat down next to him on the bench, peering over his shoulder at the bars and measures that were only recently beginning to make sense to her.

She waited politely until the stream of music in his head flowed down his arm and through his pen and were safely laid down on the sheet of paper. It took a few minutes. She had to stop herself from tapping her foot lest she disturb the rhythm flowing so steadily in his mind.

When a full two pages had been filled, she finally felt a questioning thought from him.

<?>

A beaming smile turned his way and a small one flickered in answer. She liked his eyes. They had such a unique shape. <"Wouldn't you like to go outside today, Shinji?">

He hesitated, a memory of Red Hood telling them to not wander around unless it was absolutely necessary coming to the surface of his mind. Liliya waved that away.

<"No no, we won't go anywhere. Just to the front step and the small front yard. There's a tree we can sit under so I won't get too burned. We won't even go past the fence, I promise!"> His hesitation wavered, sorely tempted, but not yet convinced. Wrapping her arms around the crook of his elbow she gave him a pleading look. <"Please? No one will let me even step outside and it's so gorgeous out there! Look out the window! Can't you feel it? Everything is moving and waking up and we're stuffed in this dusty old house. Please? You're too pale, Shinji. You need some sun!">

This got a broad smile from the musician and he nodded, indicating he would join her after he had finished. She gave him a swift hug and sprang from the bench. She paused only to grab a simple black wrap skirt from her own apartment. It was already being tied around her waist as she stepped outside on the front step of the boarding house, squinting in the midday sun.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the air of a living, breathing world all around her. grinning, she skipped down the stairs in her bare feet, one hand gliding down the railing, worn smooth by a century of hands. The gauzy black skirt only reached mid-shin, but it floated in the breeze that kept the street cool.

The small 'front yard' was mostly concrete, unfortunately, penned in by an ornate, wrought-iron fence. Two trees flanked the stairs, one in it's own un-paved little yard and the other, smaller and younger, made a nest of green on the opposite side. Liliya fussed over these two for a minute, making sure no nests had fallen out of their branches. Then, using the fence as an impromptu barre, she began to do a few exercises.

Shortly after the Cold War, when the psychic eugenics program was just being started, her grandmother had been in ballet. She had been taken by the secret police without so much as a whisper to her family. After a small performance, she had retired off stage and was never seen again.

Her grandmother had always remember her dancing days with fondness. She had practically forced her daughter and grand-daughter to learn ballet, a strict taskmaster of the art. In her final years, Liliya remembered her grandmother as bitter and angry that her limbs, now twisted from hard labor, couldn't even do a simple plie. But she also remembered, with great happiness, the look on soul of her grandmother's face when she stepped free of her shell and danced into the light.

Just as Liliya had finished her exercise, reveling in the push and pull of muscle, Shinji finally made his appearance. He saw her in her new skirt, one she'd begged Valenti to let her have, and blinked, nodding in approval. Of course, he had his violin case with him.

Bouncing up the stairs he gave him a hug. "Please? One song? It so nice, yes? Breathe." She took a deep breath, looking at him expectantly until he followed suit. "Good, yes? One song, Shinji? Spring make you feel.... happy, yes? To be alive?"

He patted her head, a small chuckle acknowledging her request. One song couldn't do much harm. And it was indeed a very beautiful day.

They never really planned this. It always just... happened. She never started in a pose, or planned and rehearsed the steps. He began to play. As he played, she felt and overwhelming compulsion to dance. The more he played, the more feeling began to flow. As an empath, Liliya was very accustomed to sensing other's emotions as though they were her own. But this was different. In his music, Shinji told stories. He transported the listener to a realm of his creation and filled it with awe and beauty and sorrow. A detailed world rolled out inside the mind as he played.

Liliya could not help but feel every nuance and every brushstroke in his artistry as he played. Like the trees and vines and flowers, she could not help but move in complement to his music. When he first played, she had danced along merely to enjoy it again. She loved the motion, the flow of movement and simple use of her body. Yet when Shinji played his music, it was different. It felt like being in an adventure of their own making.

The first notes began as her foot touched the concrete pad. It took only a few measures for her to feel it: The joy. The sheer thrill of freedom. Thing growing and shedding the dark husk of winter to stretch under the warm sun.

Liliya danced across the small yard, sliding into the music, arms held aloft like they were floating on the air. On a long, wistful note of things yearning to wake up, an impressive arabesque -- one leg, held straight behind her and rising toward the sky -- lowered her face toward the tulips planted in a long garden box along the fence. Her hands swept forward from her breast as though to cradle the tender petals in cupped palms. But her back leg was already coming down and she tip-toed away rapidly, the music pulling her back as her arms swept upward.

She pirouetted across the distance again, non stop, her skirt flaring around her. The music began to be quicken, and she leapt out of the spins into a graceful spin that lifted her off the ground to glide through the air, landing on the ball of one foot and swaying, arms raised, not quite allowing her momentum to carry her onward yet.



(Spring showers are coming, clouds low and gray. The smell of rain is in the distance, carried on a cool wind, heralding the coming of the storms. The earth holds its breath, waiting for rain.)

Then the music pulled her onward and she hopped into a quick brise once, twice, then again, even faster, before launching into another pirouette. The beat began to quicken, the notes still yearning. One leg lifted with toes pointed, down, she reached up to the sky with one hand, head thrown back, eyes shut against the brilliant sun.






(All the hidden things, locked away deep inside the earth, their secret beauty burie for too long. Souls waiting impatiently for sunlight to come. The sky is just above but cannot be reached. Voices cry out to be unleashed. Begging to be allowed to live!)

The music reached a flurry of shifts and twirls, all of them Liliya moved to elegantly and effortlessly, despite the rapid clip. Her body bowing, legs snapping and toes flicking with such fluidity it was entrancing. She was so absorbed in the dance she didn't even notice the trees and flowers had begun to sway with her movement. Or was it the music? The two were so intertwined it was hard to tell one ended and the other began. Did the musician queue the dancer? Or did the dancer inspire the violin?

Faster and faster the music began to flow, the notes taking a bolder turn. Her dance became more bold, an attack as she lept into the air, legs making a perfect line. Winter still clung to the notes... winter and the taste of cold metal.

(A demand made. The hunters of winter no long prey upon the innocents of spring, too frightened to crawl from their burrows. A call for freedom, a promise of war. The sky will weep blood before the end.)

Liliya stood defiant, eyes still closed, overcome by a sense of rage and loss. One foot before the other, her back bowed impressively to bare her throat to the sky, she expressed both vulnerable loss and unbreakable will. Her long white hair hung to the bottom of her shorts as held the achingly beautiful pose.



Then a vice-like grip grabbed her arm and jerked her off balance. Liliya yelped, snapped out of the musical reverie. Alicia, the hot-blooded Puerto-Rican doctor, muttered furiously under her breath as she marched up the stairs, forcefully dragging Liliya with her.

An angry gesture and the lightning in her all is all it took to make Shinji retreat into the boarding house. Liliya scrabbled to keep to her feet, scraping her heels on the concrete but Alicia didn't slow down. Fear shot through the doctor's mind, tearing into Liliya like an adrenaline shot to the heart. It was so raw she could almost taste it -- like tears.

"Hey!" Liliya winced, trying to twist free and getting Indian burn for her trouble. "Alicia, you hurting--!"

"Shut up!"

Alicia bodily hauled the albino teen into the house, tossing her in with a strength born of terror and anger. Liliya stumbled, tripping over her gauzy black dress. It tore easily. Shinji caught her before she hit the floor. Together, both shocked teens stared at the dark-haired woman who practically bristled with anxiety.

After locking all three locks on the front door, Alicia spun around and abruptly fetched a sharp slap to Liliya's face. Face numb with pain, she could only stare at the woman.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing? Stay inside. How hard is that to remember!? You DO NOT go out and put on a goddamn neo-concert for the whole block! It's dangerous! Don't you get that? If anyone found out you're here we're all dead!"

Shinji laid a hand on her arm, his expression distraught as he shook his head.

<"Alicia... what? What's happening? Why are you--">

An finger thrust into her face, cutting her off. "Better cut back on that, Lil. Learn English faster. Things just got a lot more dangerous for your kind. It's a simple rule and I expect you to follow it. So does Red. If I catch either of you outside again without permission, he isn't gonna like it. ANY carelessness on your part gets all of us targeted! I've sacrificed too much and fought too damn hard for what I have. I'm not gonna lose it all because you can't pretend to be normal human beings. Get it?"

If you endanger us again, I'll turn you in. God, please don't make me do it, but I will if I have to. I can't let you get us all killed. I can't!

Liliya just stared at her, still in shock with a hand pressed to her cheek. That unspoken thought, that threat, had come through loud and clear. It was filled with sickening anguish and regret... but also determination. Alicia meant it. She might hate herself for it, but it was a devil's deal she'd make to keep the others safe.

Shrinking back against Shinji, Liliya refused to look at the woman. Her whole body was still vibrating with the anxiety and fear radiating off the Puerto Rican woman. It was like standing next to a blazing fire; the heat so intense, it left sunburn on the skein of her mind.

Sighing, Alicia rubbed her temples. "Just don't go outside. Ever. And don't use your... whatever. It's clearly made you careless. Now go to your rooms. Start packing. I have to tell Red what happened. If anyone saw... we might be moving real soon."

Too startled to argue, the teens retreated to their neighboring rooms. They didn't speak. They didn't pause. They did as they were told. All the spring joy had fled, leaving a dull, painful gray. The fear still throbbed through her, in time with the uncomfortable pulsing of her cheek and arm. A bruise was already forming where Alicia's hand had grabbed her.

Liliya drifted into her room, her tattered skirt trailing on the ground. She sat down on her bed, looking outside at the bright and dangerous world through her window. How strange it was here -- how bizarre that two worlds could be separated by a mere pane of glass.

Nothing made sense. What had happened? What was going on? Why is it whenever she felt self, it was always taken away? Why did Alicia, who had helped Liliya so much, suddenly fear being seen near her? Would she have to run? Be kicked out and left to fend for herself? Would she be left behind one day, considered too much a liability to keep around? There were no answers. Just doubts circling in her mind like vultures, ready for fresh carrion. Ready to be proven right.

"Why, Shinji?" Liliya whispered. She knew he could hear her. Tears caught in her throat. She just didn't understand. What had changed? What did she do wrong? Why--

<"Why are they terrified of us?">

Silence was the only answer he could give.