The First Age

She tucked his number into the pocket of her lab coat. That it was offered at all was more than a surprise. As Sigma, Marcus was a part of the executive office of the ascendancy, offices she dealt with on a semi-regular basis. A private number, however, implied a tighter relationship between them than she expected. In the CCD, appearances were everything, and Torri knew how this looked.

She would be wise to stay on the most formal of terms with him, "The pleasure was mine, Sigma. I will of course submit a report as soon as I know anything."


With that, she was approached by one of her staff who explained that Michael had been looking for her. She rubbed her eyes.



((OOC: Michael? Are you still awake and wanting to see me? If so, I'll come find you.))

(OOC: I was trying to write this post up before any replies but you beat me to it But yes, Michael is - strange I know - doing as he was told and waiting)

Michael's contemplation did not last long. Nervous tension prickled at the nape of his neck like needles. The Facility's staff hovered around him out of sight, fascinated but unwilling to approach. He understood their hesitation, but understanding did not make it any less tiresome. To them he was like a lion. An interesting specimen but one that might strike if you got to close.

Well, it could be worse. They could be Atharim and eager to put him down like a rabid dog.

Denied the comfort of solitude, he approached the closest team that sat behind the opaque glass looking into his makeshift training room. He was received with courtesy but their eyes told him of their discomfort. "How is Mr. Monserre? I would like to see him."


A lean man with a clipped tone spoke reluctantly. "I'm afraid he is still receiving treatment. I...cannot allow any unauthorized access. You would have to speak to Dr. Weston."


Michael shook his head. "Never mind. Thank you." His entrance was soon followed by his exit. So much for that. Hell, they probably thought he wanted to finish the job.

He shook his head again. The Facility eroded his equilibrium. He had never liked hospitals and this place felt like one giant hospital used to contain people like him. He wondered if this is what an insane asylum felt like. No wonder the things never seemed to help anyone who went in.

Not long after he sat down to calm himself once more he felt the menacing presence of the ascendant power. His eyes darted in the direction of the source.

Marcus.

The pulse was too strong and steady for it to be one of the recruits.

Damn the man, why must he be so contrary when lives were at stake.

His movement resembled a stalking tiger as he made his way to the source. He was of course halted by two staff members who questioned him hesitantly.

Frustration and concern ran through his chest in waves. "Where is the Sigma and Dr. Weston?"
The doctor baulked. "I am in command here,"
he interjected with icy steel. "I defer to you as experts in your field, but this is not the time. Find them. Now."


They scurried off without protest and Michael forced himself to wait. He had no reason to suspect there was anything malicious and he did not want to raise tensions any higher than they already were. Instinct told him otherwise, but he was not on a battlefield or dealing with assassins.

Minutes later the doctors came back looking slightly put out. Good. He would not need to take further action, it seemed.

"Dr. Weston is performing tests on Sigma DuBois. I did not disturb them."
The last sounded accusatory.

"Thank you. My apologies, you may return to your work."


The two left in a huff only a doctor who was taken from their studies could make. He let their annoyance run off his back. Better that than telling them they may have all been in danger of being burnt to cinders. The Ascendants were feared as it was.

Despite his annoyance at Marcus for flaunting his rebellious streak, he was not displeased. Dr. Weston could be insistent, and while Michael was not a dullard, a scientist he was not. From what he knew of the man, Marcus could do a much better job as a test subject for Dr. Weston. Hopefully it provided some information.

So Michael settled down once more and waited for Dr. Weston to inform him of her decision.

She retreated behind formality and his smile remained behind cool eyes. Nothing was won without a gamble. It was probably wise, especially for her. She would still share the data with him. He trusted she was as good as her word there. And that was what truly mattered. Information.

He walked out of the offices and made his way to the elevator. He was ready to be topside. This little excursion into the bowels of the earth had been valuable. But there was more to do above. And now he had a second line of attack. A biological connection to the source was all but certain. That suggested....things, an idea. The brick wall had a chink, a small pinhole to the other side.

But tomorrow. He was tired. Very tired. The ride up was cooling, the air pressure noticeably less dense. Ascending, upwards. He smiled at the irony. Indeed. Ascending until he stood on the cold Moscow streets. He walked the way to the metro and returned to his rooms.

That night as he slid into the cool sheets, he did not need meditation to quiet his mind, as he usually did. Instead, he heard the whispered thrum of the heating unit moving the air. The white noise was enough, the chaos that suggested no pattern.

His mind merged with the noise and in moments Marcus was asleep.

Lisel met her halfway down the hall. Her fellow doctor was looking worse for wear. "You're still up? What's going on?"
Torri asked as the other woman fell into step alongside.

"You forgot about Michael didn't you?"
Lisel asked, her accent mumbled with fatigue. Torri's frown was confused.

"I didn't forget about him. I'm going to find him right now. Assuming he's awake."
Even as Torri replied, her mind was canvasing all recent memories for something she'd forgotten.

Lisel shook her head. There was a hesitancy in her voice, like she feared being the bearer of bad news. "He needed a place to stay. You assigned him a room, but never told him about it."


Torri stopped, blinking in disbelief at her co-worker. "You never told him where to go?! Rather than speaking to him yourself you just let him pace around, exhausted?! Don't you know who he is?"
She felt her voice rise. Lisel held her ground, but her voice was sheepish.
"You said you were going to. I assumed you had before you disappeared with Marcus."


Torri tensed, but she barely held back the snap of a tongue. Not to mention she didn't appreciate Lisel's tone regarding Marcus. She hadn't exactly disappeared with anyone, but her fears were coming true. It had looked strange. Either way, she had said she'd tell Michael herself, but she didn't think Lisel would act unreasonably.

"Fine. Thanks for the reminder,"
she added, jaw clenched and went off, hurrying a bit more, now. She and Lisel parted ways after that, but Torri was already trying to figure out what to say to Michael.

She found him on the Facility main level, obviously not having gone down another level to rest.

She took a breath, smeared her hair back behind her ears, and interrupted him. Like everyone else at this time of night, he was tired and tense. "Commander. I hear that you need accommodation. Unfortunately the only place for you is in a recently vacated cell - unlocked, of course."

Time spun by slowly. The incessant beat of the ascendant power he felt from Marcus helped him focus his weary mind. It held the menace of rumbling thunder, but Michael found the sensation soothing rather than uncomfortable.

He was not disturbed as the hours trickled by. The incidents earlier had likely ruffled the staff's feathers as they avoided him more than ever before. He did not take offence, although it was tiring. They had been dumped in a situation completely foreign to them with what might as well be an alien being. With directives straight from the Ascendancy himself, who knew what he was capable of? Best keep their heads down and do their work. Their superiors would handle it.

Eventually, the ascendant power winked out, alerting Michael to the end of their experiment. As such, he was not surprised when Dr. Weston approached.

She looked as tired as he felt, but managed to hold herself well under the strain. He studied her for moments after she had spoken. What lay behind the tired visage of professionalism?

"That will be enough. It would be best if I stayed close in any case."
He shifted the topic. His voice was soft. "Did you learn anything useful from the Sigma? I know I cannot explain our power well to a scientific mind. You do not need my permission to carry out your tests, but I ask you warn me in future. I asked Sigma DuBois not to tempt our patients by using the ascendant power so freely. It seems he has decided not to heed my 'advice'."
There was no heat in his voice, no accusation or blame, only caution.

"The man has been reckless in 'attracting' the Ascendancy's attention with a display of power. I ordered some of your team to report the disturbance to me, something they did not take well to. Perhaps the Sigma's intentions were innocent, but be careful."


Tony would have been proud. He had said that a warning was heeded far better than a demand. Of course, in battle there was no time for such luxury, but this was not a battle, and he did not want to become a tyrant. His duties had shifted, and he needed to adapt.

"I don't know what time it is, but I am exhausted. Is there anything else I should know about these arrangements?"

At times like these, Michael was just like any other man. The frost about his demeanor thawed enough to make Torri lower her guard. She'd seen snippets of the same caring man rarely in DV, but just enough to remind her that he was more than a walking nuclear bomb.

A shrug and she leaned heavily on the doorframe, studying him. "I learned much. Primarily that I have no idea what I'm doing in all this. I was unaware you had asked that of him. I'm sorry. I did not know it would endanger the others. Does that mean you can sense him? Can you all sense each other?"
She rubbed her eyes as he answered, the pressure briefly flashing red across her field of vision.

"It's 0230."
She said as she pulled up a map of the Facility from a wall-panel. With it, she indicated the room he could utilize. The directions were plain. He should be able to find it without trouble, especially since his name would display on the panel outside the door. She considered telling him that it was like sleeping in a giant BioCol, that those ceramic plated walls were covered in sensors rather than padded with foam. When she looked back at him, it was easy to picture him asleep, dormant. Like a disarmed weapon.

"There's nothing else to know about the arrangements. Sleep well."
Her smile was tight, but the lie came smoothly, if not without doubt.

"I didn't expect you to know. It was just a warning for future reference."
He expected there would be a lot of similar incidents. "Not one of the things you learned, I gather?"
he replied to her question in a quieter voice. "Yes, to an extent we can sense each other. Much like a light. it depends on the distance and amount of power used. I doubt it was harmful, but I prefer not to risk lives on it."


The conversation was brief, his thoughts slowed by fatigue. "Good night."