Afterdusk
Prolog I
The sky…
Clear, light blue, mixed with the white of clouds sailing by.
My father once, years ago, told me about a game he had often been playing as a child: He stared into the sky, like I just, and tried to find figures or things in the wide cloud formations.
I can try as much as I want to, I cannot see anything up there... nothing but fake clouds, their shapes predetermined by some ‘random number generators’.
I’ve never seen real clouds in a real blue sky... Noone of my generation did. Noone of the generation which had been born in the era of Afterdusk.
Once, Earth has been a fertile, blue planet. Across millions and millions of years. But then the humans came and we didn’t need longer then a few thousand years to lay waste to the nature and the planet itself.
But nature is strong and could’ve survived even the mankind... But it couldn’t survive mankind’s greed, reaching for things which shouldn’t have been. Crinium. A rare metal of extraterrestrial origin.
The first discovery of said metal, or rather, traces of said metal in a crashed meteor were quite an uproar amongst scientists all over the world. Crinium simply was superior to anything seen. It could conduct heat and electricity with barely any loss at all. It could easyly be formed into any shape, even on nano-size, by usage of different voltage levels. It started a new hype in the development of advanced superconductors and biomechanics...
And it opened up a new market to monopolize. The metal was rare and sought for everywhere. Meteor crash sites all across the world, from past centurys, became the points of countless interests. I somewhere read it even caused a minor war in the Baltic regions.
Some day, an observatory spotted a large meteor heading for Earth. What would have caused global mass pancic in the ages of the 21th century wasn’t an issue for mankind one hundred years into the future. A remotely controlled drone was dispatched, armed with enough nuclear explosives to vaporize the whole meteor.
But when it arrived at the meteors surface... performing a simple diagnostic scan... Crinium. Tons of it. The meteor contained many more times Crinium then found on our entire planet. Quickly, all plans to destroy the meteor were dropped and replaced by complex simulations.
If the population would have known, they would have forced their representativs to blow that goddamn rock into pieces... but in the 22th century, media had since long become a tool of mass propaganada. Noone knew of the meteor, but the concerns and high politicans.
Designed to maximize the gain of pure Crinium, the meteor wasn’t simply blown up, but seperated into multiple large pieces, every single not capable of dealing major damage to the Earth, but still large enough to survive entry into the atmosphere. The managers celebrated the gain of billions, made by selling the tons of Crinium raining down onto the ground. Of course there would be a few thousand casualtys and some destroyed landscape... but noone cared for such small sacrifices.
What they didn’t know, what noone knew, by that point, was the reaction of the Crinium meteors upon entering the atmosphere. Noone had ever heated large amounts of Crinium at once, given there never would have been enough material for such experiments, and even less the funds to obtain such a large mass...
There once were some old tales about ‘Ragnarök’, the end of the world, where the ground would freeze and the sky would burn. They should have listened to it. The sky DID burn. Within a matter of hours, 80% of life across the entire world was obliterated.
But not enough with the giant wall of fire blazing across whole countrys... the reaction left abnormous amounts of dust in the upper atmospheres... causing the whole planet to drop into a sudden ice age.
This event was later known as “Dusk”, marking a new milestone in regards to temporal measurements. Everything up to the 22th century is now considered “Predusk”... and everything afterwards, the era I was born in; “Afterdusk”.
To no big suprise, humanity did somehow manage to survive though. At least the more wealthy nations, whose citizen had access to warning systems and emergency bunkers...
I’m sure nature wouldn’t have minded the mankind to be exterminated... but humanity thought otherwise and started reforming and reconstructing. Given the, now hostile, environments and exspecially temperatures, people from all across the world marched towards the equator, fleeing from temperatures below any scale.
Citys started to form, large metropolises, beyond the scale of anything seen before. Nations had been destroyed with the meteor’s impact, but humanity merely needed a few weeks to recreate it’s machines of propaganda and mass control.
Using the abundant amounts of Crinium and the never-stopping supply of fresh workers, the citys started erecting domes to shield themselves from outer influences. Within those domes, live became possible again.
At least for those who actually managed to stay alive...
Fun to think about all of this, whilst falling to the ground far below me, with a hole in my chest...

1.
Noone took notice of the blue figure making it’s way through the various alleys. She appeared to be nervous, or cautious at least, often turning around to check whether somebody was tailing her.
But she was small, about 1,60m in height and even with her... special shape, it was easy for her to disappear amongst the crowd itself. Her grey, simple, generic clothes and the long skirt helped her to blend with the masses.
Of course there was the one or another person mustering her curiously... Passing by a group of youngsters, one even shouted. “Oh, hey Anim, sexy ass you got there!” The female blushed slightly and accelerated her steps.
Anim. The slang term for “Animalus” or, in her case “Animala”. The rapid advancement of technology, including biology and genetics, caused by the avaibility of Crinium and it’s countless uses, had quickly broken the barriers of casual surgery.
‘Animali’ were one of the results, human bodys, mixed with aspects of animalistic traits for whatever reasons. Given the surgery was beyond expensive, Animali usually were reserved for the higher-ups: Entertainment, ‘stylish’ bodyguards or simple curiousity. The reasons were potentially endless, as long as the purse could fit the imagination.
The blue-scaled reptile anim made her way through the walkways, the cars cruising above on the high-roads. At one point, she had to pass a checkpoint seperating two districts. The guard didn’t bother with her unusual appearance. May it was because he had seen enough anim’s in his live, may because it was his professional attitude. Or may because he knew this particular anim.
Latter thing was the case. “As usual?” he asked, only taking her ID card for the sake of electronic protocols, whilst she nodded in silent agreement. He slid the card through the terminal and it quickly confirmed what the guard already knew of her. “Well, see ya back tomorrow, Heinz will have the night shift today.”
She muttered something along the lines of “Goodbye” before quickly passing the checkpoint.
“Oh, and, Miranda...” the guard said just as she had passed. “Watch out, there has been some rumors about a few slavehunters around the redlight destrict.”
“Ye-yes, thanks.I wi-will watch for myself...” she responded, before heading off.
One of the other guards walked closer, his eyes following the anim until she crossed the next corner, before he turned his head to his comrade. “You know her?”
“Not personally. She works in one of the upper-class nightclubs. Though I’ve got no clue what a shy girl like her could be doing at such places. I wouldn’t even think she could do the clean-ups without blushing to death...”

“Hah, look at the blue one over there... I think she would be perfect...” one of the guys whispered to his two companions. They simply nodded and the group quickly made it’s way towards their target, following her in close distance.
She had been acting all shy the whole way they had been tracking her. It was not suprising she quickly spotted the group of the three men tailing her and accelerated her steps. The group increased it’s pace as well, keeping the distance.
At some point, Miranda was already running, she turned sidewards and dashed off into an alley. This was what the slavehunters had been waiting for: An opportunity to catch their prey in a less-populated side alley.
When the first of the men reached the corner, however, a large fist send him flying against the nearby wall. The other two men literally jumped backwards when a large figure emerged from the corner. “Perfect. Just what I need to vent some anger...” the 2,00m high, black-scaled female said, folding her massive arms, which were barely covered by the short sleeveless shirt she was wearing. “You know, guys, you better pick your targets more carefully, noone harms a member of MY family.”
Quickly making up their minds, the men turned around and ran off. The female chuckled, turning around and disappearing behind the corner again. “I’ve taken care of them, let’s get going, Miranda.” The third slave hunter slowly got up from the ground, stumbling after his two comrades. Well, this hunt hasn’t gone all that well... probably should go back to hunting in the slums... less oversized mutants there...

Prolog II
Oh, hell... the impact had hurt beyond anything I’ve felt before. Not exactly suprising, given my 80-story fall... To my surprise, the pain quickly dissipated. A few seconds after the inital impact, the pain was gone. And actually, everything was gone. My whole body has been numb... Better then being dead, probably...
If it wouldn’t have been for the pimple face I saw when opening my eyes again. I had probably blacked out somewhen, because it should have taken him some minutes to follow me from the penthouse to the streets. Of course he had taken the elevator.
“See, see... The ‘Black Salamander’ shows it’s true colors, doesn’t it?”
In my dazed state, it actually took me a second to realize what he meant. I sweared at myself for getting myself caught off-guard like that.
“I must admit... for you to still be alive... I mean, not everyone can take a 0.75 cal bullet from up close, then drop down hundreds of meters, impacting on solid concrete... and still being alive. Appears you’re really as good as your fame indicates. Or rather, you were as good... doubt you will do much, anymore...”
I wanted to spit into his prick face. Or much rather bite said face off. Or just do anything. Deploy any of the countless weapons I usually had ready. But I couldn’t move as much as a finger...
“Well...” Baron Firenze said, straightening up again. “Bruno, since your shot knocked her off the building, and, seriously, that was an awesome reflex, you deserve to finish her off.”
“Yes, mylord.”
The barrel of a large revolver moved into my field of vision and I felt the cold metal against my forehead. Well, that much for my initial plan...
“Any last words, Salamander?” the baron asked.
My tongue had been heavy and sort of numb as well. But that didn’t stop me from muttering: “Two things. First of all, it’s ‘Black Salamander’. Second of all... I’m sorry.”
Click, BAM.

2.
Years before.

“Tag, you’re it!” a young girl shouted, quickly spinning around and running off, being chased by the one she had just tagged. “Haha, can’t catch me!” she taunted, dashing left and right of the countless people walking through the streets.
The chase went on for minutes, until the boy chasing her somewhen shouted. “I give up, you’ve won, Miranda...”, his breath audibly heavy. Knowing his countless tricks, Miranda turned around, whilst still backpedaling, just in case he attempted one last chase when she stopped moving.
But this time he apparently didn’t, standing leant against a wall, his face red and his body visibly exhausted. Just when Miranda started chuckling at her victory, she suddenly bounced into something, or rather, someone.
“Watch where you’re going, damn underdog brat!” the man shouted, shoving her off and to the ground. “Seriously, what do you guys teach your kids?! Heh?” he went on, gesticulating around.
When Miranda looked up, she could see a man, flanked by two bodyguards carrying rifles. It wouldn’t have needed his gold-decorated, expensive-looking clothes to identify him as member of the upper class. One of the barons.
Since the Dusk and the creation of the megapolises, there has been a seperation, a social gap, between the different grades of wealth. Those who survived the meteor impact, whilst as well saving their previous wealth and influence, formed a new high society, often referred to as “Aristocrats”, “Noblemen” or “Barons”. The countless homeless and weakened humans who arrived in those large towns quickly formed those known as “Underdogs” and “Slum’ers”, trying to make their life amongst themselves, without such things as wealth or luxury.
Over the course of time, noblemen dropped and some underdogs managed to outsmart their concurrents, effectively forming a third class in between, the class of “Citizen” or “Wealthy”, people who had enough money and power to ensure a comfortable lifestyle, whilst still being nothing compared to the real higher-ups.
It was rare for one of the noblemen to do as much as bother to enter a slum district. But if they did, always surrounded by armed guards, noone dared to do as much as look at them. There was no police in those slums. No jurisdiction. If a noblemen decided something to be, it was.
And, for example, it could turn into a deadly sin to do as much as bump into a nobleman’s back.
Accordingly, it was not suprising noone answered the baron’s question. Noone stopped and everyone tried to avert his eyes, when the man bowed forward to the girl sitting at the ground in front of him. “And you? What the hell did you think to bump into me? Don’t you have EYES in your goddamn head? ANSWER ME!”
Barely measuring six years in age, it wasn’t suprising Miranda hadn’t understood the terms ‘upper class’ or ‘lower class’ yet. She had just been a child, naive, unknowing. “Pimple face!”
Somewhere nearby, a woman drobbed the basket she had been carrying and actually quite a few people appeared to freeze with whatever they had been doing, tension filling the air.
The noblemen, however, simply chuckled, straightening back up again. “Pfff, kids...” he took a few steps off the girl and one could nearly hear the reliefed gasps all across the crowd... but then he spun around again. “Wait a second... LOOK THERE!” he yelled, pointing at a shining something next to the girl. “A golden coin! The girl tried to pick pocket me!”
Both, his overstating reaction and the simple fact Miranda was a small child, made it clear he had probably dropped the coin next to her whilst cowering down. Yet, noone dared to tell him exactly that. “You know what happens to pickpockets, little girl?”
“Wait, please!” someone shouted from further behind, a man forcing his way through the crowd. “Please, show mercy... she’s just a child and for sure didn’t intend to bother you, high lord!” The man arrived, positioning himself in front of the girl.
“It’s not about bothering, but about attempting to STEAL!” the noblemen claimed, turning to one of his guards. “Hey, you saw her trying to grab my purse as well, didn’t you?” His tone was much less of a question then an actual order.
“Of course, mylord, I was just about grabbing her when you noticed it yourself.” The guard responded.
“That... is just...” the man stuttered, but a single glare of the noblemen made him close his mouth, filling his face with grim. “Well... as her father, I have to stand up for the missdeeds of my doughter. Whatever she may have done, I will take whatever punishment you intend for her. Just let her go...”
The baron chuckled. “How chivalrous... very well... you come with me. And the girl can run back to the hole it calls home...” He turned around to the crowd which had started to gather. “And you all, remember not to mess with the ones who keep this city running. And even less you mess with Baron Firenze!”
Mirandas father quickly cowered down to her. “Miranda, listen up: You need to take this and bring it back to mommy. She needs it, right now. Did you understand? Hurry up!” He dropped something into her hand and helped her up on her feet.
“Okay, daddy.” Miranda said, quickly running off to deliver the small thing, a ring, in her hand. She didn’t know her life had just been spared. And she didn’t realize, until many days later, that this would have been the last time for her to see her father.

Prolog III
Baron Firenze turned around, walking back to his skyscraper’s entrance. “Bruno, given you fired the shot which sent her flying, may I add: an excellent reflex shot, you deserve the bounty on her head. You can keep the millions for you and your family, it’s not like they would influence my finances in first place...”
The baron proceeded on his path for a few more steps, before halting. “Bruno, did you hear me?” he asked. Usually Bruno answered in an instant. Probably he was stunned by the amount of money he had effectively been given right now. But good service needed to be rewarded and given Bruno had probably saved his life right now...
Still, he was obliged to answer. Baron Firenze turned around, slightly angered. “Bruno, would you at least spell a simple thank-you or something like... uhm.. Bruno?”
The bodyguard was still cowering above the assassin, the pistol still at the remains of her blood-covered forehead. Confused, the baron stepped closer, when he suddenly spotted something: a black vein on his bodyguards right hand. “What the...”
Suddenly the arm stretched out, pointing the gun at Baron Firenze’s head. “Bruno, what the hell do you think you are doing...” It took the baron to realize the strange look in Bruno’s eyes. And the other black veins which crept from his right shoulder up his neck.
Firenze took a step back and it was now when he realized not only Bruno’s eyes were following him. “No... you cannot be alive after that!”
A smile crept upon ‘Black Salamander’s face. Bruno’s fingers closed around the trigger, a gunshot sounded and the noblement dropped to the ground, blood flowing from the hole in his head.
“Well, Bruno.. thank you for coming this close...” she mumbled, slowly turning onto her side. Her body was still mostly numb but first spikes of pain announced what her nerves were probably feeling right now. Not to mention the holes in chest and head.
She took one minute to gather herself, before slowly sitting up. An apologizing smile on her face, she turned her head towards the bodyguard again. “I’m sorry.”
Slowly, Bruno’s arm bent around, until the pistol was facing against his own sleeve. One could see his muscles twitching as he tried to regain control over his own body. But she had already taken over his nervous system. There was nothing he could do.
Click, BAM.

3.
“Hey ladies, Blacky is here!”
“Hi Black.” One female voiced answered.
“Geez, you should have been here minutes ago! Can’t you come on the dot for once?” a second one scolded.
“Why, it’s still 50 minutes until the club opens and we start the party... And since I don’t need to style like you girls...” the black-scaled mountain of an anim lamented, walking over to her seat of the checkroom, dropping her jacket and the small pouch onto the table.
Just when she sat down, the second door of the room opened, a young man walking in. “Hey girls, is Blacky already... oh yes, she is. Don wants to see you, now, something urgent.”
Blacky mustered Maximilian’s, who was the owner of the nightclub she was working in, face. He appeared hounded. Probably he had been shouted at for her not being avaible when the call came in... She got back up, not bothering with her pouch. It was pretty much safe here. And it would only hamper her, given she had to hurry. “I’m on the move. Anybody taking my shift?”
Maximilian nodded, stating: “I’ve called Aiva already.”
“Poor girl, that’s the second time this week she has to run a double shift...” the female cheetah-anim next to Blackie complained. “But Don’s word is law...”
For an unknowing spectator, the presence of three anim’s in the same room would probably have been quite a rare occasion. But it was the thing that made this nightclub special and actually was it’s only reason to exists in first place: When you had enough money and might to get every normal woman eitherway, why would you bother with a normal club? “Three Eyes” was a nightclub populated with quite a number of different anim’s, exclusive to those with enough money to actually afford it’s shows.
Unknown to even the noblemen visiting the club, however, the ‘gentleman’ Maximilian wasn’t the prestigous owner of the club, but merely a front man for all official and legal affairs. The whole establishment belonged to ‘Don’. None of the strippers had actually met him in person or knew more then this name about him. All but Blacky.
Lania, the female otter, who had previously scolded Blacky about her late arrival, was already reaching for a cellphone. “I will call a driver service for ya?”
Black chuckled. “No need for, I’ve my own means of getting into contact with Don, fast...”

Four minutes later, Blacky knocked on the small estate’s front door. Four knocks, seperated into a pattern only known to the few who frequently visited Don for special purpouses.
The butler opened the door and let her in without further words, before checking the surrounding for eventual pursuers. Of course he did that, Don hasn’t achieved his current state by being careless...
Blacky knew the way and quickly moved along the long floors to the room she had been called to, ever so often across the past year... For a second, she hesitated in front of the door. Had it turned into something casual already? She remembered her shock and fear when she had been called the first time. And now... she felt annoyance about being interrupted. She loved seducing men in the nightclub. Forcing her own will upon them merely by the power and probably proportions of her body. She chuckled at herself. Right now, her only emotion was the dismay of an unannounced and sudden interruption. She didn’t really bother with the thing that was to happen next... Her experiences apparently had already dulled everything...
She pushed the door open, entered and bowed her head down. She remained like that, until the person on the other side of the table spoke: “Miranda, no need for such official nonsense right now. We’re in a hurry.” Don’s voice was... deep. Cold. The voice of someone who was driven by iron logic, someone who had cast his emotions aside, long ago.
‘Blacky’, who’s real name indeed was Miranda, straightened up again, looking over to the grey-haired man, about 50 years old. His face was, like always, undetermineable. Not a sign of hurry. “Who and how, that’s all I need to now.” she said.
The man, Don, chuckled. “Usually I would ask you why you’re not asking further questions... But we don’t have much time. It appears one of the barons has taken offense to my activities and intends to start a more complex search for our hideouts. A large-scale razzia. He intends to unite a few noblemen for this cause...”
Miranda frowned. Unifying noblemen? That was like trying to bring two repulsing magnets together. Usually each noblemen had his own oversized residence in a town, trying his best to ignore everyone else who potentially had the power to rival him. Or they tried to kill each other, sending groups and groups of hired soldiers against each other. Some even did that as a new sort of perverted sport. Probably the death of your subordinates is the only interesting thing if you got everything else already...
“He intends to meet the first potential ally later today, in a private penthouse on top of the Sigma-Skyscraper in the New District... The only further information I have, is his name...
Baron Firenze.”
A shiver ran through Miranda’s body and her mouth turned into a grim line. “Oh, that’s allright... I know his face well enough... I will take care of his death. It will be cruel enough to prevent any other noblemen from investigating further into this matter...”
“No. Nothing flashy or extraordinary. If possible, make it look like an accident. If the other noblemens realize we have been behind his death, they will probably come to the conclusion we pose a real threat... which would be the exact thing we’re trying to prevent.”
Miranda nodded. Well, there were plenty of ways to kill someone with cruel pain without making it look like murder... a food poisoning for example... She could sneak in as a waitress... A wicked smile crossed her face. This was the first time she would enjoy it...

4.
After Baron Firenze’s death

Miranda stumbled forward, constantly reaching out for the wall to support her. Gah, this goddamn wound. Why hadn’t she reacted faster... She let herself get suprised by that bastard of a bodyguard... and why did he have to use a large-calibre pistol...
Her left hand pushed against the concrete next to her, giving her the necessary support, as she reached for her chest with the right hand. The hole was still there. She had stopped the bleeding, temporaryly... But she could feel her body weakening. An angered hiss escaped her snout. She wouldn’t die like this. Not here, somewhere in a back alley. That’s a promise she had once sworn to herself, as a child...
She needed to find something... something... she could feed on. She needed more energy to deal with those wounds. At least that retarded human had given her ample time to prepare for the executional headshot... a second wound like the chest one would have taken her out, for sure.
Miranda attempted to spin around when she heard the steps right behind her, but her weak body didn’t listen in time, something light hit her neck and was followed by the intense pain of a massive electric voltage being shot through her body.
Dropping to the ground, the last thing she could see was a large, black car holding right in front of the alley.
Her last sentient thought was: Crap...

“Would you mind waking up again.” Gah, the voice wouldn’t have woken her up... but the slight voltage spike in her arm was enough to get everyone back up to his feet.
Miranda groaned in pain. Opening her eyes, she couldn’t see anything but black cloth. Well, that wouldn’t pose an obstacle. Switching to infrared, however, she couldn’t see anything either. Probably an isolated material weaved into or added behind the cloth. 
This was bad. To say the least. They had probably waited for her. It was unlikely they would have stumbled upon her by accident. The voltage used against her would have killed a human outright, but they knew it would ‘merely’ send her into a stage of unconsciousness. The fact they had blindfolded her with something even blacking out other forms of sight...
She tried to move, but quickly found herself restrained in a sitting position, her ankles firmly bond to the seat by what appeared to be solid metal.
“What... what do you want... from me...” her voice was weak. Her mouth felt strangely dry. Appears her body wasn’t even capable of producing saliva anymore. She had never felt that bad before. Probably it was going to be over, soon... at least any sort of interrogation would be short...
“First of all... I’m worried about your current state. I go right in assuming the wound in your chest indicates you’re probably close to death?”
“Don’t bother... Prolonging my life wouldn’t give your more answers... if you restore my strength, I will either kill you, or me, dependingly...”
“Well, it’s not like I have much choice. I will have to take the risk... but for your own sake, you better tell me what exactly your body needs. I don’t want to kill you by accident.”
This was strange. It was quite obvious she was talking to a noblemen. But why was he that interested in her survival? Given he probably knew, what she was, he should know he couldn’t possible torture her to gain answers... And if just wanted her for study purpouses, her dead body would be enough...
“Nutrients... calories... compressed food or blood... everything organic will work...” she answered.

“Guessed as much. I’ve prepared a set of different injections, one of them is a literal calorie bomb... about 60000. Should be enough to keep you alive until we prepared more. Be advised it will be an innocent assistant injecting the dilution, not me and not anyone related to your capture.”
This was strange... did that noblemen really care for the life of his subordinates? And why was he helping her?
She suddenly felt a wet piece of cloth brushing over her upper left arm. She would have chuckled. That assistant really desinfected her skin? Oh well, he probably didn’t knew better... She could feel a needle piercing in between her tight layer of scales. And she felt the rush of the dilution through her veins.
To her, it was like the saving water after days of thirst and dehydration. Her body quickly absorbed the nutrients and within a matter of minutes, she could feel her strength slowly coming back. It was a mere thought and the wound in her chest, as well the hole in her head, quickly closed up, skin reconnecting, flesh regrowing, veins reconnecting.
Actually, she felt great now. She could probably even break free. But without sight, she couldn’t possibly determine what else was here to stop her from doing exactly that... she could sit right there, surrounded by a metric ton of explosives...
“I suppose I would be inclined to thank you now... but since I still don’t know what you want from me... I will wait with that...” she said.
Internally, she reshaped her hearing organs, making them more sensible and precise. Slightly turning her head from side to side, she intended to scan the room merely by her sense of hearing. To her dismay, there was a set of various ultralow- and ultrahigh-frequented hums and buzz’. She couldn’t hear anything. She had her internal ears return to normal. That much for that...
“Amazing... you can do that merely by willpower?” 
A slight shiver ran through Miranda when she heard those words. Quickly, she changed the structure of her scaled skin.
“Wow, you’re fast to catch on. But I didn’t exspect you to be able to turn your whole outer skin into solid lead. Of course, the Xrays won’t go through that, properly... You’re... fascinating...”
“Well, it appears you know pretty much about... ‘me’... I suppose you took measures in case I try to break free, as well?” Black asked.
“Of course. A set of electric fields. I’m not sure whether their voltage is enough to send you sleeping again. But it will at the very least delay you. Then we got a multitude of pneumatic launchers filled with overdoses of sedatives. I’ve got a canister of good old neurotoxin, too. And, as emergency measure, a few packs of Semtex all around...” the male voice labelled the countless lethal contraptions like it was a recipe list for a choco-flavoured muffin.
“I must confess...” Miranda started. “I never thought somebody would ever manage to design a prison I couldn’t trivially escape from. But this is tricky... Regardless what I do, I cannot do something to evade everything at once...”
“Well, there’s a simple way to get out of there...” the voice offered. “... promise neither to kill or harm me or any of my men, within the next 24 hours and stay here long enough to hear me out.”
Miranda chuckled. “All this stuff... just to have a conversation with me?”
“I’ve had people overwatching you since some time. I’m sorry if this was rude, but I only had one chance. If I were to make just a single mistake, you would have killed everyone on your heels. Thus I’ve simply prepared everything and waited for an opportunity. I suspected you would instantly react cautious or even aggressive if I would have confronted you directly. I know you’re keeping it as a secret. Even your mafia boss doesn’t know about it. At least not the details...”
He even knew about Don? Oh well, shit just got real... “What else do you know?”
“You’re Miranda Lamende, born in the southern district of City 18. Your animus-operation was about four years ago, using an experimental method for DNA manipulation.
I’m not exactly sure since when you obtained your current abilities and I’m neither entirely sure about when you started to use these abilities to become an assassin. I think it was somewhen around the Lombarda incident...”
Miranda swallowed. Not becaue he knew this much... it was because he remainded her on that day... “If you know I’ve caused the Lombarda massacre... why am I still alive?”
“Because I don’t bother with these so-called laws and guidelines set up by other ‘noblemen’. 
I pretty much care for nothing but my own few interests. And I’m sure some of them could be interesting for you, as well...”

5.
“You WHAT?” Miranda yelled. He couldn’t be serious... That offer...
“I’m serious. I would let you get access to my blood, I’m sure you could determine I’m not lying by it’s chemical components... I’m offering you everything I own. My wealth, my possessions, the corporation I’m leading, my title as nobleman. Everything.”
“But why would you give up everything you have? What could be that important?!” Miranda asked. This nobleman was messing with her! Noone would make that sort of offers.
“It’s simple. Because I have no family, no heirs. But I know you will live far longer then I. You’re effectively without age, aren’t you? I’m not giving up everything. I’m merely taking care that my belongings don’t go into the wrong hands after I die. Actually, that’s not even a loss for me, given I will barely need anything of it when I’m dead. Ok, eventually I sort of endanger myself... after all you could decided to kill me before my time...”
Could this really be true? Could she really trust this person, merely knowing him by voice? “What’s my security of you actually keeping your promise?” she asked.
“The same that guarantuees me you’re not simply killing me to obtain my belongings.” He answered, an audible amusement in his voice.
Miranda couldn’t but smile. “That would be none.”
“Exactly.”
“Why should I trust you? After all, you simply kidnapped me and bound me up in a lethal trap.”
“Well, would you have sat there, silently listening to my offers if I would have greeted you with ‘Hey Black Salamander aka Miranda, I know what you have done and I want to hire you’... You would probably have silenced me the second I used your real and your fake name in the same sentence.”
Now, he probably was right about that... she had been cautious not to mix up her identitys... For her own sake and for the sake of all those surrounding her.
“But I fully understand your misstrust. And that’s why I should probably take the first step.” With a single movement, the blindfold was pulled from her head. Her eyes took less then a second to readjust to the sudden light level and... “It was a bluff. Everything of it. At least in regard to the lethal traps, everything else was honest. I’m now standing here, right in front of you. You can kill me if you like. But I hope you don’t.”
He was indeed, right there. A young man, probably about 22. He was dressed in a simple modern, white suit. In the first moment it appeared he didn’t have any hairs... but then Miranda realised the hairs... were transparent?
“Oh, you noticed it? Well, of course you did... I’m prone to a quite interesting genetic defect... One of it’s effects is the lack of any color in my hairs. Heck, it’s not even grey anymore, though it often appears like that. You need sharp eyes to realize they’re actually without color... Of course your eyes are fully sufficient for that...” During his little speech, he had turned around.
Miranda instantly recognized that movement hadn’t been an unconscious one. He intentionally had turned his back on her. His life was in her claws... With a slight crackle, the metal bonds keeping her tied broke off. She slowly got up, rubbing her ankles. “Much better like this...”
She could see his neck hair stiffenung up. He was aware of what was happening behind his back. With a wicked smile, she placed a single of her scaled claws at the mans shoulder, applying just a slight pressure. Slowly, the talons of her claw started to grow, bending around, quickly forming a root-like tangle all around his head. “I could kill you in countless ways, right here, right now... some would take days to finish you off, some take less then a second. And yet you don’t move an inch. And while I can sense your body being afraid... you’re mind appears to be quiet and ready.”
Within mere seconds, her talons reformed into their normal shape as she took her hand from his shoulder. “Who is the nobleman, who doesn’t know fear and offers his very title to an underdog?”
He turned around, a sly smile on his face. “I’m ArtemisWellens. A pleasure to meet you.”
She couldn’t but be surprised. “THE Artemis Wellens? Owner of WellTek Industries? Wow... Then your previous offer slightly exceeds what I had assumed. There are corporations... and these ridicolously oversized things, which effectively form countrys by themselves... and WellTek doesn’t belong into the former category...”
“Thanks for the compliments... In the end the corporation will probably stop being handed down through my family... but that doesn’t matter, not now. How about we leave this inhospitable room and take the elevator to my lounge? I’ve pastry and various drinks prepared already.” He took a few steps towards the only door, before stopping again. Frowning, he turned his head around. “Actually.. do you even eat or drink?”
Miranda walked past him, towars the door. “Just because my body wouldn’t need it, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it...”

Sipping on his cup of tea, Artemis did nothing but further muster her. Minutes passed whilst Miranda did the same, eventually simply saying: “Just start asking already...”
A smile spread across Artemis’ face. “You can reshape every part of your body?”
Miranda nodded. “Not just that, I can as well reshape even those parts I actually don’t have. Switching your gender is pretty much the most simple way at getting rid of pursuers...”
The nobleman chuckled. “Interesting...Given my... let’s say, informants have already seen you in your other identity, you can apparently change your size as well? Is there any limit to it?”
She frowned, slightly worried by the fact Artemis even knew about her actual identity and the form she used to take. She sighed and her body quickly started to shrink down, her scales shifting into a solid blue again and as she spoke, her voice lost some bass and raised in pitch, as well. Even her clothing was eaten up by her scales in the process and then rebuilt, returning her grey, simplistic dress. “I use ‘Blacky’ as a disguise for everything related to my job. Both of my jobs. ‘Miranda’ or pretty much ‘me’ is the form you see right in front of you. And regarding your question: The more I compress my body into a smaller form, the more unpleasent it gets... Think of it like trying to slip into way too tight clothes. In the other direction, I probably got a limit as well... but I never bothered exploring it, would have caused too much commotion...”
Artemis laughed lowly. “I bet it would... Given your ability to freely shift parts of your body and as I’ve seen already, even the chemical composition of your skin... could you even turn your whole body into a specific element... could you, for example, become solid gold or even a liquid?”
Miranda hesitated with her answer, mustering him deeply. The answer would mean exposing her weak point to him. But he had already risked his life in an attempt to talk to her... If that didn’t earn him the necessary trust, nothing could... “No. Or maybe yes... There’s a limit to how I can change, given the source of my abilities... Actually, I think it would be best to start explaining everything from the very beginning...”

6.
Four years ago

“But Miranda! This is dangerous. You did read the small letters, didn’t you? They even warn it could have lethal consequences... Please don’t participate, I couldn’t stand losing you as well!” her mother pled.
Miranda, a young, female adult bit onto her lower lip. “I know... but it could be my ticket out of the slums... I could finally realize my dream...”
Her mother frowned. “A dream of becoming a nude attraction for horny men... I don’t really think that’s what my doughter should aspire to be...”
Miranda smile wickedly. “It’s less about being a symbol of lust, but more about the beauty of body. And I think it would be fun if I could seduce people into doing whatever I wish for...”
“That’s a dream... I told you, you will find yourself in some slum’s puff in no time...”
Miranda energically shook her head. “Not with that new body... I would get jobs in the upper class nightclubs. We could move to the citizen district, off the slums. We wouldn’t need to count every penny anymore...”
The older woman sighed. “You got the same stolid attitude like your father... In the end, it is your decision. And wharever you may do or become, you will always be my doughter and I will not judge you. Though I, and I promise I will keep saying this everytime we meet, do not approve of this idea...”

Hesitatingly, she double-checked the adress. This was it. Actually the medical center, a skyscraper by itself, was hard to miss... She tripped from one leg to another, constantly brushing her long, blonde hair out of her face. She was entirely undecisive.
Pretty much everyone she had asked had advised against this step. And yet... it was the ticket to her dreams... eventually... Of course she had read the whole contract stuff... It was a one-time offer. If anything went wrong, noone could be blamed. She could die, she could drop into ever-lasting coma, she could be disfigured or disabled for the rest of her life...
Somebody poked into her side. It was a young man, a small card on his chest indicating he was one of the medical assistants. “You seem to be at a loss, young madam. Can I help you?”
Before she could answer, he had spotted the small card in her hand. “Oh well... that thing... A honest piece of advice: When in doubt, always take a night to sleep over it. And if you don’t manage to decide, sleep again. Never decide on something rashly.” He winked at her. “If you decided to do it though... we’ll see each other again. Good luck, whatever your decision may be.” He walked past her and disappeared into the revolving door.
Probably he was right. She should wait with this decision until she was sure of it.

“Mrs Lamende? Hello? Mrs Lamende, can you hear me? Geez, can we get a psych over here, the girl’s shocked.”
Minutes passed and a different voice adressed her. “Miranda? That’s your name, I think. I know sudden losses can hurt hard... But we...” She got up. “Uhm, Mrs Lamende?”
“I... I’m fine...” she stuttered, tears still covering her face. “I just need some time... please...”
“As you wish... I will take care to retrieve all remaining posessions. They will be brought to storehouse S-77. You can retrieve them anywhen during the next two months.”
She didn’t really listen to the official and simply walked through the towns. A few fire fighters rushed past her, aiding their comrades.

A riot. One of many... There was barely a week without a demonstration turning into a streetfight. The slums were a source of dismay and anger. Noone knew what exactly killed her. Eventually she had been hit by a stone. Or she had been shot. Or she had simply stumbled... the mass of people, marching, running, panicking had taken many lives today, trampled to death. And the fire had taken down countless apartments in the whole block, including her’s... She was homeless... and parentless... she had lost quite everything at once.
Reaching the upper end of some stairs, she turned around, looking down at the brown, mud-covered streets and buildings... She spat onto the ground. These slums have been the misery she had called life so far. It had taken her father, her sister and now her mother as well.
But it wouldn’t get her... she swore to herself, she wouldn’t just die as another beggar in some back alley. No, she for sure wouldn’t! She was going to leave this all behind. Leave everything behind. And step forwards into a new life.
She pulled the registration card from her pouch. She chuckled when she realized this all could have been a hint of fate. She hadn’t anything to lose anymore. It didn’t matter to her if the operation was successfull... or killed her... she was going to do it. And she was going to start a new life. She would never come back... never...

7.
“Mrs Lamende. Miranda? Can you understand me. Please say something if you can understand me. Just something.”
“Grmalaal...” Oh heck, her mouth felt like she had swallowed an overdose of sedatives... and her head was aching ridicolously, as well... She tried to open her eyes and a sligh spike of pain ran through her arm when her hand hit a solid surface.
“Please, do not try to move. Your brain will need some time to accustom. Across the next days, do not try to do hasty movements. Just try to use your muscles slowly and carefully.”
She remembered that voice... it was the lead chirug... she had talked to him, just minutes ago, when he prepared her for...
She tried to sit up, causing her foot to kick into something soft, followed by an “Ouch!”. She quickly ‘laid down’ again and felt her foot resting back onto the bed. What the heck?
“Please, listen to what I say: Your brain did not yet accustum to your new body. It will take days until you can move normal again. Don’t try to do anything complex for now. You’re still being artificially supplied with nutrients and oxygen, until you can fully control your lungs, too.
“Mroasafa olsfsue asdkp.” That didn’t make any sense.
“Of course your tongue and vocal chords and working properly so far, either. Please have patience. Except for these slight complications, the operation was a full success. I will now open your eyelids and hold a mirror in front of you. If you do not want this, say something, otherwise remain silent.”
Nothing happened. She didn’t say anything. A deep curiousity raged through her mind. The operation was a success? Ok, she couldn’t really move, but as the doc has said, she just needed some recovery time.
Suddenly light pierced into her eyes and after a few seconds of adjustment, she could see a small piece of wood used to pull her right eyelid open. And behind that wood... was a small mirror... and a face... a foreign face. A reptilic snout, covered with blue scales. It took her nearly a minute to grasp it was her face. Her new face.
The mirror was withdrawn and her eyes were left to close again. She bathed in relief. It had worked. The operation was successfull... just a few days... and she could start her new life...

“Good Morning.” The doctor said and after a short glance he added. “Oh, I’m pleased to see you are progressing well?”
“Plittie much.” Miranda answered, once more suprised by her strangely high-pitched voice. “Plittie much...” she said again, this time in a tone more appropriate. Of course the voice was still entirely different from her own... uhm... previously own... She chuckled.
The doctor smiled at her. “Don’t worry, we suspect the lingual issues to be the last one’s to disappear. It could take you a few months, maybe even a year. And, being honest with you, you could may even keep a sligt speech defect. Though the chances for something like that are rare.”
“I’m fini. This bodie is awisomi.” Oh, she should train her vocal cords more. She sounded more terrible then a five years old... Slowly turning her upper body, she reached out for a small glass of water on the table next to her, lifting it carefully and taking a few sips. Her arms were working nearly perfect already. Occasionally she intentionally inverted some directions and sometimes they would twitch... but that pretty much was it...
Taking the only chair of the room, the doctor said down next to her bed. “Since one week passed, the scientists gave me a list of things I’m meant to ask you. It would be nice of you to answer honestly, regardless of how the questions may sound or what they refer to, it’s important.”
Miranda nodded. Well, of course she was obliged to fill in various questionarys across the next few years, detailing her current state of body and mind. It was part of the research project after all.
“Do you or did you, at any time, hear ‘voices’ in your head or did you feel thoughts which weren’t entirely your own?”
“Uhm... no... I don’t think so...”
“Ok... Did any part of your body did move itself without your intention? This does not refer to failed attempts of you trying to move, for example an arm, but instead moving a leg. The question exclusively refers to something moving without your actual intention to move something.”
“No, nithir.”
“Did you feel an increase of your sex drive or anything indicating a similar state?”
Miranda couldn’t but chuckle and wondered whether her scales were actually capable of blushing. “Excipt fol mi bing folcid to stay hili in bid fol countliss days... no...”
The doc couldn’t resist chuckling herself either. “Please, don’t give me that look. I swear on my license, I’m one-to-one reading the questions from this sheet of paper...
Do you feel the need to eat more then your usual amount of food in a meal? This excludes varying food preferences most likely caused by the change of your tongue and accordingly the taste receptors.”
“I think, I’vi staltid iting slightlie moli... but it dis not excid thi pliviouslie calculatid amount...”
“Ah right, of course. You mean the fact this body does, by chemical reasons, require some more food then a human body of same age and size. Ok, noted.
Did you have any strange dreams in the nights following the operation?”
Miranda tried to remember back. She actually couldn’t remember any dream at all. “No...”
“Fine, that was all there is for now. Keep training your muscles, I will see you again tomorrow.”
Miranda smiled weakly when the man had left the room. To a common human, the questions would have sounded akward at the very least. But given the operation... she knew what had been done with her body... And she definitely couldn’t complain afterwards...

8.
The day before the operation

“Ok, Mrs Lamende. By law, I’m obliged to recite the whole procedure one last time, you don’t need to sigh, I know I’ve been doing that all across the past days. But you know, this is not just some casual operation... 
You are aware you voluntaryly participate in a prototype experiment which could end in potentially fatal failures like, but not limited to, death, dismemberement, coma, disfiguration and other permanent mental or physical damages?”
“You know the answer, doc... still yes...” Miranda sighed. They had gone over this a few times already...
“You do understand and agree to following condition: Noone but you can be blamed for any of the mentioned sideeffects. You cannot and willnot sue or otherwise claim justification for any mistakes or malfunctions related to the experiment.”
“Yes, as well...”
“The experiment’s goal is to transform a human into a semi-anthromorphic humanoid, commonly known as animus, female form; anima. Opposed to artificial skin transplantation or DNA alteration of embryos, this experiment tests the method of transplanting a semi-artificial life form, from now on referred to as ‘parasite’, into your body, which is controlled by an self-sustaining electronic circuit, which again contains a detailed blueprint of your body you helped to design.
The parasite is a derivative of the biological lifeform known as ‘shifter’, an alien lifeform captured and cultivated after it attempted to infect, duplicate and overtake the human civilization.
You are aware of the potential risks and complications and do agree that, in case of an emergency, you are to be killed to ensure the containment of said parasite?”
“Gah, something inside of me always turns upside down when you make me think about it... but yes, I agree.”
“Lastly, I’m advised to inform you about following restrictions: All further forms of medical treatment must be performed in this research facility to ensure a proper medication conform to the parasite’s metabolism can be given. You will be outfitted with a temporary implant to ensure your infertility until research further progressed into this area and ensured there are no possible effects of the parasite on your genetic material past the intended changes. You may not, under any circumstances, adress the electronic system meant to control the parasite with any device or on any frequency, as this could cause severe malfunctions possibly altering the shape of your body past the intended structure. You must report for medical examination once every month.
I think that was everything...”
“You forgot the part about how I’m meant to avoid any intimate contact and-or exchange of body fluids and as well are meant to avoid contact to anyone possible being carrier of any known illness.”
“No, actually the scientists gave green light in this regard. Just yesterday they concluded these both measures are not necessary anymore.” The man couldn’t but smile. “I’m actually glad about that, forbidding someone to have sex would be... It just couldn’t work out...
But since we’re done with the formal stuff... Let’s get you prepared for the anesthesia...”

Present
“So, I suspect you somewhen ignored his advice and started messing with that thing in your chest?” Artemis asked.
“Uhm... not exactly like that... It was slightly different...”

9.
Three weeks after the operation

Filled with dismay, she kicked against the empty tin can on the ground, sending it flying off the walkway and down onto the street below the bridge she was walking on. This was a joke. It was an utter joke.
‘Too small.’ ‘Not enough girth.’ ‘Too girly.’ Seriously?! She had undergone an operation to obtain this body. She now had this strange alien thing living inside of her chest. She had persuaded the designers of her current body to raise the size of her breast by two units beyond the size of her previous body... Against the will of the scientists stating she should attempt to make her new body resemble her old one as close as possible...
And yet those bastards of wanna-be-clubheads dared to call her breasts ‘too small’. One even had said she should try taking some hormones before showing up again...
She was an anim... but that didn’t grant her the entry she had hoped for. Of course, it was an advantage... She could enlist for specially designated positions which searched for ‘unhuman’ employees. But apparently her body still wasn’t fitting the current exspectation of a stripper...
Damn it, she wouldn’t stop searching. Her money was used up, but the research center was taking care of all essential costs until she found a job. She could spend some more months looking for a nightclub that actually valued her new body...
Filled with dismay, Miranda realised she had arrived at her housing block. It was a building belonging to the medical department and was, literally, filled with eggheads and other scientists. Of course this meant she had countless visitors, but stupidly these didn’t really care for her as a person or neighbour, but for the subject Miranda.
About twenty minutes later, Miranda had just slipped out of her clothes to take a bath, her doorbell rang. And rang again. And again. And againandagainandagain...
“STOP IT, I’M COMING!” she yelled annoyedly, quickly putting a towel around her waist before proceeding to the door. Taking a look through the small door viewer, she actually couldn’t see anyone. “Goddamn children pulling pranks and...”
“PLEASE, LET ME IN!” a high-pitched voice yelled. It was a child’s voice. “THEY’RE HUNTING ME!”
“What the...” Miranda quickly fumbled on the door locks and the second the door opened, a small girl rushed past her into the appartment, quickly jumping behind Miranda’s large coach. “HEY! What do you think you are doing, rushing in here like...” she started, closing the door again.
Behind the door, she could hear sudden steps. The girl whimpered from behind the coach. “Please, don’t tell them I’m here... I don’t want to go back...”
The steps stopped and the doorbell rang again. Hesitatingly, Miranda opened the door, just a small gap. “Yes?” she asked, spotting two man standing in front of the door.
“City 18 Police department. We’re looking for a child reported as missing. We’ve just seen her disappear into this building, mere minutes ago. Here, that’s a picture of her.” He pulled a small PDA from his chest pocket, which showed up... exactly the girl which was currently hiding behind her couch.
“I... now... I’ve been... uhm... busy... and I don’t think I’ve seen here... though I’ve heard some rash steps on the stairs, a minute ago or so... Uhm... would you mind... to leave... I’m currently...”
“Babe, you coming back over here? I’m not yet done with you.” Miranda would nearly have jumped in suprise at the voice coming from her living room. It had been a deep male voice with a un-mistakeable tone in it.

The cop blushed slightly. “Oh, our bad, we for sure didn’t want to disturb anything. Please excuse us and thank you for your help.” The man made his off to the other appartment to the other side of the stairroom. His partner couldn’t resist whispering. “And tell your lover he is a lucky guy to have beauty like you.” He winked at her before she quickly closed the door, spinning around.
The girl was now sitting in the living room’s armchair, looking over to Miranda all innocently. Miranda waited for a few seconds, until she heard the cops moving further upwards, before asking. “What the hell... was that you?”
The girl chuckled. “Not exactly, I just remodulated your phone... I thought it would very well compliment your current outfit and make them disappear quicker.”
“You remodu-what?” Miranda asked, confusedly stepping closer.
“Remodulating. I’ve reprogrammed the phone, amplifying it’s volume and caused it to record my voice, before returning it in a much deeper and more bassy tone, imitating an adult male. Nothing special.”
“Ok, who and what are you?!” Miranda asked. “And you better say the truth, otherwise I may call these two guys in here.”
Suddenly the eyes of the girl became all watery and cutely big again. “P-please... I-I-I don’t want to go back... pleeeeeease...”
Miranda remained silent for a second, merely frowning. “You can save that for later, I doubt you are what you claim to be...”
Within a second, the girls facial expression turned into a wicked smile. “Well okay... After all you helped me out just now. I’m a BMCU, spelled Bimcu. You can call me Bibi, though...”
Miranda didn’t like where this was going. Special abbreviations usually meant something related to the government... and the cops searching for ‘a child’ indicated it was most likely something secret... 
“I see you don’t trust me. But I’m telling you the truth. I do not want to harm you. I just don’t want to be a random test subject anymore. That’s why I’ve overloaded the security system of the labratory and ran. Of course they quickly tried to follow me. I could gain some advantage by overriding the traffic controls and abuse some security gates... when I managed to lose them for a few seconds, I decided to hide in this building. Just when I passed your door, I noticed they had followed me. I needed a quick hide, thanks for covering me.”
“You... you aren’t a human child, are you?”
“Well...” the girl scratched across the back of her head. “That’s hard to explain... I don’t have access to all the details myself... I assume I’m some sort of genetically engineered clone with some cybernetic implants. That’s why I can, with ease, hack into and control all nearby electronic systems. That’s what I’m meant for, in first place. As I’ve said, BMCU. Biological Mainframe Control Unit.”
“Oh well...” Miranda decided to sit down upon the armrest of the coach for now. “What the hell have I gotten into...”
Bibi chuckled. “Don’t worry. If you insist I will be gone by tomorrow. I can easyly get cash from any bank I want and faking my identity won’t be hard either. I will probably have to leave the town, nothing I cannot handle...”
Miranda glared at the girl with unobscured disbelief. “How old are you? Six? Seven?”
“My body’s age is five years, 267 days and 13 hours. But due to the gene modification my mind easyly surpasses an average adult already. After all I’m meant to keep up with super computers.”

“And yet you’re still just a small girl.” Miranda chuckled when Bibi pouted at the term ‘small girl’. “To be honest, I’ve been lonely. It’s hard to find friends when you’re... different... If you can... solve some of my financial problems, I think I could get used to living with you. Probably for a few months, until the whole trouble settled down and you can move more freely.”
Bibi chuckled. “Why not. And yes, I’ve noticed you are different since I’ve opened the door. And seriously, the coding in your chest is a mess... it’s not even close to it’s full potential... lemme fix that for you...”

10.
“What the...”
Everything was gone. Black shroud surrounded her. Where the hell was she?
She felt like being watched and turned around. Without actually touching ground or anything solid at all, she jumped back, trying to back up from the giant abnormal eye in front of her.
And she could hear it... talking...
Must... spread... grow... assimilate... break free... assimilate... body... break into components... grow... reproduce... spread... assimilate...
Suddenly the eye, which had been circling around, staring into various directions, fixated Miranda. It was... It’s iris was of a strange mix of green and brown colors and the pupil was formed like a cross.
Assimilate... resistance... obey... us... join... us...
Suddenly, tentacles of a gooey red mass formed below the eye. It didn’t need longer then an instant for Miranda to realize what the eye was talking about. “Nonononono...” She quickly tried to backpedal, realizing she couldn’t actually say WHERE she was, to begin with. There was no gravity, no surface, nothing she could maneuver with. Actualy, she realized... she didn’t even seem to have a body...
The tentacles wavered closer.
Assimilate... assimilate.. destroy...
“No... this is...” Miranda’s eyes widened in fear when she realized just what this eye-like thingy was... of course.. the parasite. Did... “Fuck...” she sweared. Bibi apparently had disabled the electronic control keeping the alien lifeform under control. ‘Lemme fix that’? That girl had no goddamn clue what she had done!
Miranda remembered back to what she had heard, read about that life form in the documents handed to her. It was an alien species which had once come upon Earth by meteor, several years after the Impact. A first science team had been killed and... assimilated by the meteor’s content.
And after a few weeks of back and forth, the military managed to eliminate the majority of the alien lifeforms, capturing the remaining ones and using them for different research projects. That’s what the files had read. Of course this story had been different in the public news... ‘Meteor crashed upon arctic lab, six casualtys’ had been the official headline...
Miranda gulped. And now this thing was inside of her, set loose... It would... consume her body... destroy her and replicate... She was in the midst of an apartment block... six scientist had been enough to keep the military busy for weeks... now she was in the midst of a few thousand people, most of them probably asleep...
Consume thousand people... replicate... create... defend... destroy military... revenge...
Was that goddamn thing reading her mind. “Get lost you ugly thing!” Miranda shouted. Actually she couldn’t tell whether she was actually producing any sound. After all she didn’t appear to have a body right now...
Do... obey... do not... resits... join us...
The tentacles shot forward. Miranda didn’t knew what they did, but she could feel a strange emotion. She wanted to... sleep... to stop resisting... the eye was coming closer. It’s pupil was like a void... “No... I don’t want this... No... NO... BIBI, NO!”

A sudden eruption of blinding light.
Miranda sat up, seeing the kitchen of her appartment in front of her. “Ok, what the hell just... WAAAAAA!” Jumping up and stumbling against the wall, Miranda could see... pink... worms or something like that emerging from her chest. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” She quickly tore on these strange things and when she ripped one of them off she could feel an immense pain shooting through her chest. 
Do not... resist... must... devour...
“BIBI!” Miranda turned around, in search of that strange girl.
Bibi’s head suddenly protruded form the kitchen door. “Oh, you’re awake again? I’ve made myself some toast, I was getting hungry...”
“MAKE IT STOP! QUICK!”
“Make what stop? Oh... you mean that thing in your chest... I thought...”
“STOP IT NOW!”
Suddenly the tentacle-ish worms on her chest froze, then dropped against her chest scales motionless. “Done. Do you have marmalade? Preferably cherry or strawberry...”
Miranda’s breath was still going heavy. And she could feel that something inside of her chest was different. She gulped when she realized she could feel the parasites appendages inside of her inner body. Though it appeared to have become passive again.
She sank down, leant against the wall, still staring at her chest. This was a living nightmare... This thing inside of her... “Bibi...” she said, weakly. “What did you do?”
The girl came from the kitchen, jumping onto the armchair, munching on something. “Made myself some cheese toast. You really should buy marmalade though...”
“The thing... in my chest...”
“Ah, you meant that thing. Now, there are a lot of strange restrictions and pointless codes in that electronic cage. I thought it was an error and fixed the codes. Appears you didn’t like it?”
Miranda started at the girl in utter dismay. “That fucking thing tried to EAT MY ALIVE!”
“Oh, did it? Sorry, didn’t know that... I thought you had it under control already...”

11.
“Under control?” Miranda asked, confusedly.
“Of course. The parasite is linked into your nervous system after all. That’s why I said I’ve fixed it. The code appeared to be malicious, the device was meant to link you and the parasite into one thing. At least that’s what its basic hardware is designed for. Dunno about what crap had been coded into it...”
“Wait... are you trying to tell me... I’m meant to... I don’t know... absorb that thing?”
“Why not? As of current, the electric mechanisms lock the organism in your chest into it’s current form and as well scrambles all communication between you two. That doesn’t appear to be the actual idea behind the device, though...”
Miranda took a few minutes to sort her thoughts. Of course. This would explain why the research center had access to all the secret files of the military. It wasn’t an experiment in regards to bioplastic chirugy... it was a military experiment... to see whether shapeshifters could be controlled. And used... inside of humans. 
“Bibi... could you make... these tentacles... uhm, go away?”
“Sure, why not...”
Miranda suddenly screamed out when she could feel a short, but sharp and intense pain shooting through her chest. She could feel a liquid running down her chest and suddenly had to cough. Metallic taste filled her mouth and she realized she was coughing blood. Of course... if the tentacles had previously been spread through her upper body... and now were gone again... Blood was dripping from the multiple holes on her chest...
“Oh... fuck...” She again had to caugh and more blood sprayed across the ground. “This is... bad...”
“Geez, you want me to close the wounds as well? Seriously, learn how to do things yourself, you’re becoming a bother...”
A strange feeling rushed through Miranda’s chest. The pain started to ease and she could see the holes on her chest closing again. And she felt how her inner organs repaired themselves as well. And she felt hungry. Damn hungry.
“The sensor says your nutrient level is low. It’s close to sending an emergency signal, you better eat something...”
Miranda was already up and on her feet, stumbling over to the fridge. She quickly grabbed one of the large sausages she had recently bought and simply bit into the thing as whole, using her sharp teeth to their full advantage. A few minutes and bites later, a pound of pork had found its way into her body and her stomach settled down again.
Slowly walking back into the living room, she could see Bibi sitting on the armchair once more, zapping through the television channels... without any sort of remote... and actually she was zapping through channels Miranda hadn’t even heard off... “This is madness...”
Laying down on the coach, she tried to calm herself. Right now, everything was fine. Bibi shut the parasite down again. Nothing... could happen... everything...was fine...
“Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated.”
Miranda skyrocketed upright, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest when she slowly turned around... just to realize Bibi was watching the classic’s channel. “Hihi, the Borg are funny. Like me. Just more dumb...”
“Ok... you know what... I’m done with this. I’m sick of this shit. Bibi. Can you... and please let me finish and don’t do anything until I tell you... sort of cut the connection between my mind and my body, as well as the parasite’s body and it’s mind, whilst connecting our both minds?”

“Yes, I could do that... what for though?”
“Ok... Give me one hour. If I don’t wake up by then, return everything to the state it is in right now.” Miranda laid down again. Nothing happened. “Uhm, Bibi?”
“Yes? You said I shouldn’t do anything and...”
“Do it, now.”

Within mere moments, Miranda saw herself facing the giant eye again. Again there was only darkness. But this time she was less afraid and more determined. After all, she knew this thing couldn’t possibly do anything.
Must... consume... do not... resist... do.. obey...
“No, you will NOT consume me this time, did ya hear me?”
Must... consume... must... grow... must... spread...
“Stop ignoring me and listen: You won’t go anywhere!
Must... reproduce... do... obey... join us...
“Do you even realize you can, right now, do NOTHING? You’ve got no access to your own body.”
Must... consume... must... must... must... access body... must...
“Nope. You cannot and will not.”
Must... consume... body... must... ... ... Suddenly, hell broke loose. Or at least it sounded like that, when a high-pitched voice filled out seemingly everything. Miranda twitched, trying to avert or close her ears, but since she didn’t even appear to have any physical component here...
“SHUT UP!”
The noise indeed stopped. Must... must... find... hive... must... join... hive... must... connect...
The voice, or whatever that thing was talking with, was... it had changed. It was... disturbed... afraid... Did it say ‘hive’? Miranda had seen enough sci-fi to realize the meaning of these terms. This life form wasn’t used to be alone. It was, similar to bees and ants, probably only capable to survive in a larger group of beings.
“Jep, there is no hive. You’re alone. You cannot consume. You cannot replicate. You will probably die...”
Noooooooooooooooooooooo-“SHUT UP”-ooooooooooo-“I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!”
Damn, this alien was terrifying...ly annoying. But now it was listening, Miranda knew it.
“You will never speak with your old hive again. Because you’re not one of them anymore. You’re now a part of MY body. And I will NOT join you.”
Not... join... us?
“Yes, you’ve gotten that right. I will not join you. Because there is no ‘we’ in ‘you’. You’re alone. You’re just one. You’re alone... the only thing else would be... me...”
Join... us...?
“No. But if you need some company that badly... how about you join me?”
We... join... you?
“Yes. Why not? You join me. I’m your new hive. You obey me. You join me. Do not resist.”
Do not... resist... do... obey... do... join... join you... do join you.
It was a strange sensation. She felt... it was changing... It wasn’t trying to oppose her anymore... It stopped resisting... She could feel the alien presence disappearing. Merging... into herself... becoming one part of her... a submissive part... It obeyed. Just like a limb of her body. A new part for her new body...

12.
Miranda gasped and let out a low whine when she felt a trickling pain in her chest. But this time she knew it was something different. Something she intended to happen. She opened her eyes, raised her head and looked at her chest: Some scales appeared to part and something grey, metallic started to protrude from her body.
She quickly grabbed for the electronic device and ripped it from her body, throwing it against the next wall, causing it to shatter into pieces. Slowly, she sat herself upright on the coach.
“Hey, why did you do that? Now I cannot influence you anymore. You removed the whole control electronic from your body, it’s boring to merely watch your sensor data. And why did you throw it against the wall, I would have liked to study it!”
Miranda didn’t bother listening to the girl complaining. She took a few minutes to listen into herself. She knew it was there. She could feel it’s presence. But it didn’t move. It didn’t do anything though the restraints were gone. It was a part of her now.
She rose her right arm in front of her. Make the scales turn green... it was a command, formed in her mind... She could feel something shifting inside her. It was a truly unpleasant experience. Actually, she could even see something similar to an orb travelling forth from her shoulder, right below her scaled skin, towards her hand... which started to turn green, the color spreading from the base of the scales to their tips within a matter of moments, before the orb travelled upwards again, spreading the color across her whole arm.
“Wow, that looks interesting. Though it does look some sort of painful... you should probably do something in regard to it’s form...”
Indeed, the feeling of that orb travelling through her body has been strange... not painful... but just... and it had been slow... she wanted it to be faster... slicker.. smaller... as small as possible... A poking thought. It knew the answer. Consume. Rebuilt. She knew it was honest. The alien thing. It wasn’t like it was thinking by itself. But she could... adress the alien’s memories. Thoughts. It’s ‘wisdom’. And it knew how to do what she was looking for.
She realized what this meant... With a single thought, the reshaped the orb posing the core element of the life form. She forced it... to split up. And again. And again. And countless more times... She could feel how much smaller orbs, not even visible to an eye, started circulating through her body, embedded in her blood. It had turned into a liquid. But it wouldn’t end there.
Using it’s new form, she sent the particles into every nerv cell of her body, destroying them, one by one. It was a strange felling. Her whole body started to feel numb. She quickly leant agains the back of the coach, before she would lose her sense for gravity and touch... Somewhen she didn’t see, hear or feel anything anymore. She was swimming in darkness... but she yet knew her body was there. And she proceeded with the last step...

Something touched her... pain trickled through her. She tried to evade the pain, reshaping to accomodate the electric current. She felt another volt and again reshaped. Across a unmeasureable timespan, it happened again and again. Somewhen, she realized she was... well was. Slowly, piece by piece, her memory formed to conclusive thoughts, the painful current guiding her form again and again.
Damn it.. what the hell is poking me like that... it goddamn hurts!
She wanted to see what was going on. She could feel light touching her body. She remembered how a light receptor was constructed and formed one. Many. Millions. Minutes passed until she had managed to recreate one of her eyes. And she could see a girl, Bibi, in front of her, poking somethig at her. Or rather at the ground... well, apparently her body was at the ground... though, turning her gaze, she could see the underside of the armchair. Something was wrong here and...
Red. Suddenly everything was red. It took Miranda a second to realize the eye had turned towards the ground and was now facing into... well... a red puddle?
Wait a second... It couldn’t be that... Miranda would have thrown up... but she didn’t have a stomach right now... Actually, she had literally NOTHING right now. She was a goddamn puddle on the ground. With an eye... and turning said eye around... she could actually see a brain swimming around in said puddle. Okay, this is getting grotesk now...
She saw Bibi’s mouth moving. Was she talking? Miranda wanted to hear. She created a few audio-recepters and after some trial and error she actually started to understand.
“... so I thought you may forgot everything and I’ve started performing some electric experiments on your and it seems you reacted to a specific voltage frequency of...”
Miranda quickly dissolved her ear again. That girl couldn’t talk something straight understandable for two seconds. But judging by what she had said... the eye shifted around, focussing on the nearby digital clock. It was midday. But that wasn’t the suprising fact...
Five days had passed, if the display was correct. Wait, did I doodle around as mere puddle for multiple days... oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into... this is... pull together Miranda, pull together. Actually, literally! Pull together girl! You know how a human body works... or a anim-body... or... whatever, just pull together!

“Later on, Bibi told me she had barely managed to keep all visitors in check, imitating my voice and faking an infectious illness. Overall, it took me three more days to reshape myself into a form even remotely humanoid. And even when Bibi started helping out... I seriously think she was considering me her guinea pig, I needed a total of three month to recreate this body in all it’s detail. So.. in regard to your question... yes, I could liquify... But if I liquify my brain as well, I cannot reassemble myself anymore, effectively turning me into nothing but a liquid. It was Bibi who managed to cause my body to recreate my brain. She said something about electrical stimulation, I don’t entirely understand it myself... 
But I’ve learned enough to understand the severity of this issue. Right now, my body has a set of three brains spready across my head, upper and lower torso. If I enter a potential danger, I usually even increase that amount. Ye, that probably sounds strange, but as long as at least one brain is intact, I can effectively repair myself... as long as the ressources are present... nutrients, calories, metals...”
When she had ended, she would have exspected Artemis to ask her countless more questions. But he simply said there and then said. “Amazing.”
“Amazing what?”
“I’ve never thought the synthesis between two organic life forms could create such a result... the shape shifters have the severe disadvantage of an insect-like hive mind. They cannot work alone and can only follow basic instincts, opposing the actual complexity of their organism. But you are a shape shifter who is an individuum. A single person.
Ok, I actually assumed something roughly into that direction... that’s the reason I’ve bothered to contact you in first place... but I didn’t think it was... just like this.”
Miranda smiled lowly. “And you still didn’t tell me what you actually want from me.”
Artemis nodded. “That will come later. First you need to continue your story.”
“My story?”
“Of course. What happened after you had regained your body... What led... to the Lombarda incident?”
Miranda remained silent for a few seconds. “Very well... I will tell you about it... but it’s not something I’m proud at...”

13.
“Hey Bibi, I’m back.” Miranda yelled whilst closing the door, her voice visibly amused.
She had obtained three confirmed offers of nightclubs she had applied for. She chuckled when she saw herself in the mirror. “Apparently size does matter...” she muttered to herself whilst having her breast shrink down to a size that didn’t look unnatural to her. It had been amusing how suddenly everyone was interested in here, just because her breast had been a few numbers larger...
Well, with this body she could effectively become the dream figure of every single person out there. She watched her hands as the pure-red scales all across her body took a solid blue hue again. Given her new abiltys, she was of course not taking the first job offer, but much rather evaluating her possibilitys, using her shapeshifting ability to take on a set of different identitys.
With a slight hint of sorrow, Miranda called for her young companion again. “Bibi?” It was uncommon for her not to bug her the second she came back... And they had agreed she wouldn’t leave the apartment, either... But why wasn’t she responding then?
Moving into the living room, Miranda managed to hear the silent, regular breath of the young girl. Cautiously sneaking across the room, she found Bibi laying on the coach, sleeping soundly.
With a sly smile, Miranda brushed through her hair and over her head and... Wait what? She placed her palm against the girls forehead. It was literally boiling with feaver. Miranda didn’t ever bother getting something similar to a thermometer, her own skin was enough to determine her temperature was definitely beyond the limits of anything which could have been considered healthy. And, on a second look, Miranda spotted another thing: Her skin had a green taint. It wasn’t dominant enough to make it actually look like a green skin... but it was a noticeable hue.
Something WAS wrong here. And Bibi probably needed a doc, as soon as possible. Miranda was already half the way over to the phone, intending to call an ambulance, when she realised that wasn’t an option... If Bibi were to be entered into a hospital, her DNA would be scanned and identified. She would be found by the military within a matter of hours...
Miranda knew of someone who could eventually help her. It was an underground doctor, somebody who was doing the medical jobs for those who couldn’t enter official hospitals for whatever reasons. She knew her mother had once mentioned she had bought sedativa from that man...
The shapeshifter cursed her own memories for a second. But there wasn’t anyone else she could reach fast enough... Not without endangering Bibi’s life...

The streetlights flashed by, the car further accelerating along the free, nightly road.
Miranda was sitting on the co-driver’s seat, Bibi was laying on the rear bench. “I know it must be something urgent, since you didn’t even bother explaining it before telling me to get her into the car. But would you may say it now? Whilst we’re driving eitherway? And where are we heading for, to begin with?” she asked, her black scales barely reflecting the streetlights. She had decided to hide her true appearance. Better safe then sorry.
The old man sighed, but responded. “I’ll try to keep it simple: Did you hear about the Crinium-Plague?”
“Uhm...” Miranda tried to scrape up some stuff she had been told in her school time. “Some sort of illness directly linked to the first few decades after Afterdusk, wasn’t it? But...”
“Yes, that one. It’s a severe illness, caused by an overdose of the radiation pure Crinium emits. It affects the metallic molecules within an organism’s blood, exspecially copper, and causes it to start rusting. Oxidated copper usually has a green color, that’s where that taint of her skin comes from. It’s most basic symptom of Crinium-Plague. Shortly followed by hallucinations, high feaver and death, usually in that order.”
“But but but... There was a cure... they did find a cure, I’m sure I’ve heard about that!”
The doc nodded. “Yes, they did. Or rather, they found a medicament which managed to neutralyze the symptoms. However, since the illness cannot spread from human to human and isn’t even passed on to children, the illness died out a few generations ago. You won’t find the medicament in any common hospital anymore.”
“Where are we heading for, then?” Miranda asked, whilst she turned around to Bibi with a worried look on her face. She felt responsible for the girl. Even if Bibi had often claimed not to need any foreign help.
“I know of someone who posesses one bottle of said medicament, as a heirloom. We’re heading to his place right now. And as well he could possibly have the necessary connections to get access to more of the medicament. But... Miranda was your name, wasn’t it? But Miranda... be warned, you’ll may regret asking for that man’s help, even if just once. I’ve been working with him, occasionally and... you know my customers usually got a good reason not to reveal themselves to a public hospital...”

The wooden door opened and closed again. Miranda raised her look and saw the doc smiling, even if weakly. “She will make it. At least for now...”
“You mean...”
“The dose I gave her, which effectively was everything we found here, should probably keep her healthy for a few more days and alive for about five. Do you may want to tell me where and how you picked that girl up?”
“Uhm... probably not... though I can tell you she has only been living with me since a couple of days, about...”
“Two weeks?” the doc asked.
Miranda. “Probably, ye... why do you ask?”
“It’s my job to take care of people and don’t ask many questions. But lemme give you a solid piece of advice: The Crinium-Plague isn’t just some illness randomly affecting a child in large town without further notice. Whereever you stole that girl from, she was possibly poisoned with pure crinium on intention. She cannot survive without regular doses of the medicament, similar to those who survived the Afterdusk. Two weeks was the maximum between injections of regular doses before the subject would suffer from the illness again.”
“That’s...” Miranda understood the meaning behind this. It was a security measure. They had anticipated Bibi to attempt fleeing at some point. They had infected her with this plague to ensure she would either die or be hospitalized when she was left without the medicaments. Did the girl knew about that? She would have to ask Bibi at some point, later...

14.
At first the room, she had been lead into, appeared to be empty. A simple workroom in retro-style, wooden cupboards, a bookshelf... though at least the desk had a sign of technology, an integrated monitor. Behind the desk was a broad, black leather armchair facing the windows behind.
Miranda would have nearly jumped back, when the armchair, or rather the person sitting hidden on it, started speaking. “Welcome to my humble housing, Miranda...” Her heart calmed down when she realized the male had probably welcomed here that way by intention. Well, he knew how to make a first impression last...
“I have to thank you. Giving up your heirloom saved the life of a dear friend of mine. I’m in your debt. I wish I could at least refund the basic material value of the medicine, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t even be able to do that...”
The man chuckled lowly. “Well... there are always ways to accustom for one’s debts... I’m owner of a few seperate enterprises and we are often in dire need of employees... time’s are hard. If you would show interest in one of the jobs... The documents are on my desk, feel free to check them.”
Curiously, Miranda stepped over to the desk and reached for the few sheets of paper. It was a list of casual job offers, using the basic formal sheets. A position as salesman in an electronic store... One offer for an express agent... A pharmacy job... She smiled at the last of the papers.
“Actually, I’ve been looking for a job for some time... and this one sounds quite appealing to me... And the payment... You appear to be gracious towards your employees.”
One of his hands reached behind the armchair, hinting her to hand him the paper. She did and noticed that the skin of the hands was already showing severe signs of age. Somewhere between 40 and 50, at the very least.
“An... interesting choice. I’ve been watching you whilst you have been waiting outside. I would dare to say Maximilian, the head of mentioned institution, wouldn’t mind some fresh blood. And exspecially the color of your scales is interesting. I haven’t ever heard of a black-scaled reptilian animus... Many prefer brighter colors.”
Miranda realised she would be forced to keep this form, at least during her work shifts. She hadn’t just changed the color of her scales, but as weel had increased the overall size and girth of her body, giving her a much more muscular and, at least in her intention, self-confident look. But that didn’t really bother her... this body was probably better... equipped for this task then her original one in first place. “Count me in, this sounds like it could become interesting.”
“Very well, I will take care of informing Maximilian. Would you mind leaving a phone number and adress here? He will contact you and take care of the remaining formalities.”
“Sure, that shouldn’t pose a problem...”
“And please don’t worry about you being indebted of sorts. I consider myself, together with all my employees, a big family. We are there for each other, help each other, protect each other. Simply by joining this family and agreeing to work with us is enough for me to take care of supplying your young friend with the necessary medicine.”
Miranda was quite surprised by that generous offer. Of course she hadn’t forgotten about the fact Bibi would need more medicaments over time. But she hadn’t dared to ask. “Thank you again. My life has been hard and it is good to finally fit into something again, even if it just some sort of corporation... If there is anything I can help you with, feel free to ask.”
The man chuckled audibly. The noise had a strange tone to it. He appeared to be amused, but not because he appreciated her offer.. there was more to it... “You’re young and probably slightly naive... But I will remember your offer. And please, call me Don, like everyone else does.”
Miranda frowned. Naive? She hadn’t said anything stupid, did she? Though... that name... the term... ‘Don’... A wave of shivering heat ran across her back when she finally caught onto it. Family. Corporation. Don. Of course... it was obvious...
“You... you’re... this ‘family’ is...” she didn’t dared to spell it. He wasn’t sure how he would react. She felt a few pearls of cold sweat running across her face. Which remembered her about her currently humanoid form. She was potentially vulnerable. There could be a gun pointed at her back, right behind a door...
“Please, don’t be shy... just say whatever you wanted to say...” his hand gesticulated through the air.
“You’re... the head of a mafia organization... ?”
Silence remained. Ten seconds, twenty seconds. “And if I would be something like that?” he finally answered.
Miranda started to think about the situation. Right now, she could still turn her back on it. Well, she could actually always simply run off, not like they could keep her body locked up... but right now she could simply leave, writing down a fake adress... she would simply not use this shape again and they could barely locate her again...
But the job was looking promising, no doubt. It wasn’t just your usual nightclub. It was an exclusive one... Located in the noble district, reserved for either those noblemen or those working around them. It was a job she had dreamt off... and it was well-paid, not only by money, but it included the medicamentation for Bibi, as well...
And in the end, working in a nightclub couldn’t be illegal. She could claim she had never known everything important about Don. Which actually was the case right now. “I think it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like my relations to the authorities are the best, after all...”
“I’m always glad to hear the logic and the common sense speaking, surpassing the fear. As I’ve said, we’re a family and care for each other. You don’t need to be afraid of anything or anyone. Times have changed alot...
I know, you’re probably, like everyone, afraid of a nobleman’s intervention... but that’s unlikely to happen. Not because we are hidden from their perception, it would be stupid to assume that. The noblemen very well know these sort of familys, you called it ‘mafia’, exist. Actually I dislike the term ‘mafia’... it has many bad associations linked to it. Similar to ‘syndicate’.
Back to topic, they are aware of our existence. I don’t know how much they actually know. But they ignore us. It’s better to have a steady, low level of grey-zone criminality then countless single individuums acting indepently and causing havoc. As well the noblemen are entirely aware of the fact the vast population, exspecially the poor, dislike them. By permitting criminality to exists, there is way for the inhabitants of this town to vent their anger. They pretty much tolerate it.
Of course, officially they support the police forces with money and manpower. But they don’t actually intend to defeat criminality, they merely seek to contain it to a level which does not harm the city’s stability.
Which doesn’t, however, mean there are no risks for us... the police is always alert and of course there are other familys who are rivalling us... it’s a small, constantly boiling war below the radar of the public media.
That’s the reason I hide my identity, by the way... As head of this family, the Leani, I’m quite a target... only a few people know my real name, some more my face... most, however, only know my voice and the name ‘Don’. You understood all of that?”

“Yes... Don.” A strange emotion ran through Miranda. She could have never thought of becoming a part of a large criminal syndicate once. Of course everyone in the slums hated the police. But that didn’t mean they would rather side with the mafia instead of the authorities... But... she felt fine like this. She didn’t mind... being a part of this. A part of something.
Miranda made a mental note to double-check the parasite’s lingering presence when she was back home. Probably it was influencing her after all...

15.
Two days before the Lombarda-incident

“Ow, get down here your scaled goddess and you can dance with a real pole...”
Blacky quickly looped out of the man’s arm lengths, smiling seductively. “Look, don’t touchssss...” she let her sentence end in a low hiss, before returning to the pole on the stage.
Oh well, she probably enjoyed this too much. But it was an incredible sensation to know everyone, at least the customers, in this room was looking at her body right now, possibly dragging her off into some dark corner within one’s own fantasy...
She couldn’t but love to be treasured... In the few days of her new job career, she had quickly grasped onto the basics of getting the customers to throw more and more money at her. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to turn an adorable body into loads of money. Of course, most of it ended up in the club’s cash-box at the end of the day. But it was nontheless fullfilling to be the center of literal attraction like this.
Of course Maximilian had warned her thoroughly not to go to far at any point, telling her stories about what had happened again and again throughout the history of ‘his buisness’. “Seriously, the only thing more dangerous then an angry man, is a lusty man. You don’t look as fragile as some other of my girls, but nontheless you should watch out...”
Maximilian was a strange guy. At the one side, he was party-guy, always present somewhere in the midst of his customers, giving out free drinks and emptying whatever he could lay his hands on. But as well he was, without doubt, a capable buisnessman, leading the club to constant profit. Miranda knew he was merely a front man and the club belonged to Don, but it was nontheless Maximilian taking care of all organization and the finances. And last but not least, she had as well seen him as a gentleman. Of course he had seen every single of the strippers naked, quite every day. Nontheless he never peeked on them when they were anywhere off the actual stage. And, after asking a few harmless question to her new co-workers, Miranda was quickly assured he was a honest man and whilst there was the one or other nightly adventure he had never yet molested or forced any of his female employees.
Leaving the stage for a small break, Miranda couldn’t but chuckle at the thing as whole. It indeed appeared like a giant family. Maybe being the part of a ‘mafia syndicate’ wasn’t that bad after all.
“Blacky, there’s a call for ya, it’s Don.” Maximilian said behind her, following her to the changing rooms behind the public area, handing her a phone.
She nodded. “Thanks, Max.” The young man quickly disappeared again and she raised the communication device to her ear. “Yes?”
“Ah, nice to speak to you once more... ‘Blacky’?” Don asked, audibly curious.
“Well, one of the girls, Scarlet, has difficulties with her name memory... And started calling me by my scale color... One of the customers grabbed onto that name and now I’m pretty much known as ‘Blacky’. Therefore we started to use that name alltogether...”
“Appears you’re enjoying your job to it’s fullest. I’m glad to hear that, not everyone can deal with people constantly staring.”
Miranda chuckled lowly. “Now, I don’t really mind it...” A second thought crossed her mind: After all, she wasn’t even presenting her real body... it was like the people were merely seeing her in a costume... She chuckled again at that thought.
“Well, I haven’t just called to exchange some frivolities... There’s a small... issue, I could need help with: Specifically, you could help with. I know it’s late night already, but would you mind coming over as soon as possible?”

“Yes, of course. I will tell Maximilian about it, I’m sure he will manage to shuffle tonight’s program to compensate for my disappearance.” Miranda bit her lip. She couldn’t but be nervous about this. Something in her stomach told her she would have best refused to come.
But she had pretty quickly grasped that a kindly stated request of Don was equal to a strict, direct order... Maximilian had mentioned it to her... the family could only work because it had a strong lead. And this strong lead was not to be ignored, not by anyone...

About half of a hour later, Maximilian dropped her off right outside of Don’s mansion in the citizen district. “Don’t worry, Blacky... Don’s always all mysterious and stuff... but he’s a fair and honest gentleman. Unless you mess something up, you’ll never need to be afraid of him.” He smiled reassuringly and Miranda couldn’t refuse a slight smile either. “Of course, if you did mess up... well... he’s still honest...” Maximilan added, before closing his car’s window and driving off.
That much for that. The front door was opened before she did as much as touch the doorbell, one of Don’s three butlers had apparently been ordered to wait for her arrival. With nothing but a short and formal greeting, he lead her through the large house, towards Don’s workroom. 
When she passed the bench she had been sitting on, just a couple of days ago, waiting for the result of Bibi’s treatment... Don had held his word: Two days after Miranda had been at the manor, the doc passed by and gave her a whole dozen of vials, each containing a much more modern, concentrated form of the medicine against the Crinium-Plague.
Bibi was advised to take one of the vials each week and report to Doc whenever any of the symptoms would show up again. To Miranda’s suprise, the small genius had indeed been unaware of her own illness. ‘Now, they did often mix stuff into my meals, but I didn’t really bother with it...’
The butler knocked on the door and then left Miranda standing alone. “Come in.” Slowly, she opened the door and stepped inside, mentally preparing for anything she could possibly think of. Don hadn’t mentioned what the ‘little problem’ had been, exactly. And Miranda’s mind had already run wild in that regard...
“Good evening, Don.” She simply said, the tension in her voice barely hidden.
Like in her first encounter, Don was sitting in his armchair, averted from her, his face hidden from Miranda’s view. “Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable. Do you want to drink something? Whisky?”
“No thanks. My body doesn’t go very well with alcoholic drinks.” Oh hell, that was true... without further afterthought, she had joined the welcome party after her first night of work at the nightclub. The day after, Bibi was forced to inform Maximilian about Miranda not feeling well. To tell the truth, the alcohol had apparently, during her sleep, messed up her whole body structure. When Bibi woke her up, Miranda had been in a semi-liquid state of something unidentifyable... At least she had managed to fix her body within a few hours, but she had sworn to herself never to drink alcohol again. Or rather, not to consume it biologically, of course she could probably drink it whilst filtering the liquid and storing the alcohol somewhere without it reaching her metabolism...
“Well, your choice... But you appear to be... let’s say ‘nervous’?”
Miranda tried to smile, before realizing Don couldn’t possibly see her face in first place. “It’s... Wouldn’t you be nervous in my position as well?”
“That depends... would I have a reason to be nervous about?”
“I don’t know much about you, but a few rumors from the street and from the other girls... I know you’re doing some stuff which probably isn’t entirely legal. And you asked me to come here, without telling me why, in first place... I would dare to call that valid reasons.” Miranda could feel her body tensing up. She had made up her mind in regards to what she would possibly be ready to do for him...
“Well... you can help me with said problem, because you’ve got an attractive, beautiful body, know how to use said body and as well are of exotic nature, no offense intended.”
“In case you intend to say... I... uhm... I don’t...” Miranda took a deep breath. “My body is not for sale.” Well, she said it.
To her surprise, Don started laughing. It wasn’t exactly bright, cheerful laughter. But it wasn’t sinister or judging either. “Oh, I must probably excuse. I, by no means, was going to have you do things past the stuff you already do at the club, at least not in this direction. It’s not like you aren’t attractive enough or something... but I’ve got more important stuff to worry about then some mundane needs...
I should better start explaining: I’ve told you about how there are occasionally rivalities between different groups and familys... Right now, there is a particular smuggler, called Rigoro, and his group, who constantly keeps meddling into our buisness. I’m not talking about attempts to steal customers with better prices or something like that... I’m talking about blackmail and threats aiming at our family members.
There have been family wars in the past and there will, no doubt, be wars in future. But there is no profit or honor in bloodshed and I would prefer to prevent the situation from escalating... We need to send a message.”
“Well...” Miranda started, sort of clueless. “Of course I can hand him a letter if you insist on not sending it via web... And actually I don’t doubt it’s safer that way, but why would I be exspecially useful for a courier job?”
“I wasn’t talking about that sort of ‘message’, but about a... more direct approach...”
“Uhm... you want me to secude him or something? Well, I could do that, but I don’t see how this would...”
Don chuckled lowly behind the backrest of his armchair. It was the chuckle of a man trying to explain something to a child too innocent to actually understand what he was saying. “I will make it bluntly... Miranda... I want you to kill the son of the gang’s leader.”

16.
“You must be joking. Of course you are... you wouldn’t just... you would? But...” Miranda started stuttering. “I can’t.... I can’t simply kill someone, just like that... I... I never killed anything... a swat fly maybe... but...”
A hand touched her shoulded. It was a steady, yet gently grip, offering halt. When Miranda raised her head, she was looking into the face of an elderly man with white hair trying to fight back the baldness, countless wrinkles covering his face, whilst his eyes were still burning with an intensity that could have set a candle ablaze.
It was Don’s face. “Miranda, I’ve noticed it the first moment you have entered this house...” Miranda was just about... well, doing something, when he continued. “You’ve got a spark in your eyes I don’t see in many people. It’s what seperates common humans from those who can truly influence society. Do you think I would simply risk the life of my men, breaking into a government warehouse to steal some guarded medicine, just because somebody kindly asked me?”
She knew it couldn’t have been real. “I will not lie to you. Whilst I try not to cause the unnecessary loss of lives, I’m not ready to endanger the life of my family. If there is a threat, it must be dealt with. That’s a simple, but effective credo. The problem is... Martinez!” He raised his voice, and a side door to the room opened.
Miranda turned her head and saw a man fighting his way into the room. There were bandages wrapped around his right arm, linking it to his upper body, another one covering the right half of his head and... For a second Miranda simply admired him for moving about with just a left leg and a single crutch.
“Martinez was my right hand in such regards... But he recently had a... let’s call it ‘work accident’ and, as you can see, isn’t really up for anything past laying, walking and recovering. I doubt he will ever be able to perform his duty again. It’s a shame to lose a good man like him...”
“Duty... you mean... killing people who oppose you?” Miranda said, cautiously.
She mustered Martinez. The man was probably around 30 years old and actually she couldn’t imagine him being a killer. But probably that was a part of him being a professional.
“Not just that... but yes, he was doing some of the dirty work I couldn’t trust anyone else with. His position... or rather, his previous position and now your new one... is built upon trust. Do you realize you’re one of maybe two dozen people who know my face... I’ve told you my identity is a precious secret to me. As such, I can only have people know of it who will keep the secret for themselves.
Either because they’re loyal... or dead... I will not force you, you can freely pick between those choices...”
This was... “What the hell is that for a choice? Who would be retarded enough to actually pick death?”
She heard the audible, mechanical click behind her. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Martinez was probably still doing Don’s work, after all.
Miranda considered her options, whilst she reshaped the back of her body, internally, invisible to the outside, adding a few layers of solid bone between her scales and any sort of inner organ she couldn’t move out of a potential danger zone in first place.
She could... well... she could easyly punch the crippled killer behind her down and make a run for it. She could as well simply stand there and laugh manically while his bullets ricocheted off her. Or... she could kill those two guys... Well, she could, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t kill anyone.
Knowing that she actually wasn’t in a real danger made her confidence return. “If you want to shoot me down, go up ahead and try, Martinez. But if you don’t take the pistol down again, I will make you regret it. I’m no killer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know to make a male suffer...”
“You didn’t tell me about your decision yet.” Don stated, his voice neutral and without anyting possibly indicating his next reaction.
“Because none of the given choices is applyable. I for sure won’t simply forfeit my life. But I cannot just kill someone like it was nothing but a job to take care of. I’m not like that!”
Well... was she really not like that? For a second her gaze went over to one of her claws. Of course... with her abilities... she could kill people with her ‘bare hands’. In a multitude of ways she didn’t even want to think about.
But there was no justification for doing so... What gave her the right to act as selfish as to simply eliminate someone and end his life and all his possibilitys? Whilst she didn’t want to think about, she couldn’t but remember a rule of evolution she had read about: ‘By nature, might makes right.’
She hesitated in her thoughts. She wasn’t actually a human anymore. Should she really still go by the common morale of other humans? Didn’t her abilities permit her to do as she pleased, without worrying about the consequences? She could kill Don and Martinez right here, who could possibly punish her for it? Would they ever be capable of finding her, in first place?
For her entire past life, she had always lived by the common rules. She had been a obeying citizen, never doubting the order behind everything. And yet her whole family had been taken from her. What has life or any other person ever done for her?
Well... except Don, though he probably did save Bibi just to make her feel like this right now. Could she really trust a man like him? Did she even need to trust him? Wouldn’t she possibly be better off without him?
Actually... no... she needed him for the sake of Bibi’s medicine. Of course she now had some reserves... but she had no clue where to get that stuff from. And she possibly would have a hard time accessing it, too...
“Why me?” Miranda simply asked.
Don didn’t hesitate with his answer and she had the strange time he wasn’t saying the words for the first time: “There are people with an immense hidden potential. And whilst my orders may seem cruel or cold, their only purpouse is to reveal said potential, for the sake of the family.”
Miranda chuckled at the irony of the situation. “Hidden potential you say... you’ve got no clue...” She felt the need to demonstrate Don just how true his words were, even if he probably didn’t intend them to refer to her innatural abilities...
“Then why don’t you tap into that potential and show the world what you’ve got? I do not ask the impossible from you. It’s luck and probably fate that, right after Martinez’ accident I stumble upon a possible successor and, just days later, find the perfect, easy, ‘first’ job...
I can already tell you’re interested. “ Don concluded, whilst moving off her and seating on his armchair again, spinning it until he wasn’t hidden behind it’s backrest anymore. “It’s probably obvious, but you aren’t the first person I’ve hired this way. There has been Martinez and Rednet before him. And whilst I was young, servant of the previous head of the family, I’ve seen it two times as well. But next to those people who accepted... there were as well countless who didn’t... I can tell you do not belong into latter category, because you didn’t break down into some sobbing something begging for mercy. You have the inner strength necessary to do what needs to be done. For the sake of everyone around you.”
A slight wave of his hands and Miranda heard how Martinez stored the gun in his belt again.
“Why do you think I’ve already made up my mind?”
“Because, since you didn’t break down, you either intended to flee or to accept. For fleeing, you would have taken me hostage, given I have been standing right next to you across the past minutes. Thus either you’re stupid, which I highly doubt, or you did already side with me...”
A grim smile ran across her face. “You’re an interesting man, Don. You know how to talk yourself into someone else’s mind...”
“It’s what I’m meant to do. I’m not a skilled gunman, I’m no athlet and not exactly an accountant either. I’m a leader. I talk to people, I order them around and control the scenes from the shadows.
But sometimes, I need to intervene directly. I need a hand, loyal to me and only to me, which can work in these shadows to do the things necessary to be done.
Will you be my right hand, Miranda?”

17.
‘Lombarda’.
The neon sign was flashing in different shades of red and green, trying to attract potential customers just like moths were attracted by light... It for sure wasn’t one of these exclusive and over-priced restaurants... but it wasn’t a shabby pub either.
She walked past the building, entering the first side alley. The second she stepped between the buildings, a figure emerged from the shadow, just a few metres ahead. It was Martinez.
“Don told me I would meet someone to give me the necessary equipment... but I didn’t exspect you...”
“Just because I’m crippled, doesn’t mean I’m useless. Don doesn’t know I’m here and it better stays like that. When it comes to the one’s surrounding him, he can be soft-hearted at times. I don’t need pity or rest. I need to ensure my successor is actually up for the job.” Martinez said, leaning against the wall. It wasn’t hard to realize it was probably painful for him to be up on his feet... uhm, ‘foot’.
Miranda wanted to ask, but he nodded towards a large cardboard box next to a pile of rubbish. She walked over to the box and opened it. For a second, her breath stopped when she saw the body of a girl inside, but then she noticed the girl was gagged, which pretty much indicated she wasn’t a corpse. She was half-naked, her working clothes laying next to her.
Without hesitation, Miranda slipped out of her own clothes and quickly put on the waitress’ dress. The girl probably had a slightly smaller size but Miranda simply shrinked her body on those uncomfortable places, just enough to ensure the clothes weren’t going to give her away. Martinez standing next to her wasn’t exactly an issue, hell, her job was to dance around quite naked in front of a much larger audience.
The second she was done, Martinez reached her a small notepad. At first she assumed it was a part of her disguise, before she noticed there was more to it: The last page of the notepad contained a single photo. It didn’t take much to figure out the man displayed was meant to be her target...
As well, there was a name plate attached to the notepad, faking her identity as ‘New waitress: Leona Yuung’. Lastly, Martinez hold a simple ball-pen towards her. “Looks like a pen, works like a pen. Keep the button pressed for longer then two seconds and...” He did and Miranda could see a small needle jumping forth from the ball-pen’s tip. “It’s a simple neurotoxin. Depending on where you apply it, it will take between 8 and 20 minutes until it takes effect, suffocating the target. The sting is barely noticeable, the needle is coated in sedatives. It will give you enough time to leave the restaurant without much commotion. Probably it will take them hours to realize he didn’t just suffocate on a fishbone or something...”
Hesitantly, Miranda picked the ‘tool’ from his hand. The situation was just... uncommon, to say the least. It wasn’t hard for the professional killer to notice her hesitation. “The first time is always the hardest one... A simple advice: Keep in mind you’re not doing this for trivial reasons. This is one step to prevent a underground war from breaking out. This one murder could probably save the life of hundreds. It’s not about you or him. It’s about everyone.
I would prefer staying nearby and watching you... but I think you’ll do better without me being present. And I wouldn’t be much of a help eitherways... Just keep in mind: If something goes wrong... don’t try to be a hero. Run for it. Even if Don will never admit it, he would rather see the target escaped and you alive then both of you dead. Good luck, let’s hope you won’t need it...” he said, before walking off into the shadows.

So far, everything was going well... Miranda carried the plates over to the kitchen window and set them down, before heading back to the main room. She had taken on a few part-time waitress jobs before, during holiday times, and wasn’t entirely unaware of how to play her role correctly.
Someone had taken care of luring the restaurants manager off into some sort of buisness meeting. When Miranda entered the restaurant, claiming she was the new waitress temporaryly hired to replace Stephanie, who was probably still laying unconscious in the cardboard box just outside, the current shift leader couldn’t reach his superior and simply had to assume ‘Leona’ was saying the truth.
Silently, Miranda hoped for the target not to appear to his reserved table today. But just when said thought crossed her mind, she noticed a group of four men entering the room. One of them was flanked by two quite broad, black-suited others, obviously his bodyguards. It was her target. The guestbook stated his name was Nick O’Neil. At least that’s the name he always used for the reservations.
Nick headed right for his regular seat, his white suit visibly contrasting with the two bodyguards behind him, whilst he was continously talking to the fourth person, which appeared to be a much less over-dressed, slightly chubby man. After some back and forth, he sat down on Nick’s table as well and started gesticulating wildly.
Trying her best not to show anything but a polite smile, Miranda slowly made her way over to the group. “Welcome to the ‘Lombarda’, I’m Leona and your waitress for this evening. Do you wish to order the drinks whilst inspecting our menu?” Miranda adressed them. Right after saying those words, she however noticed that she had spoken quite fast. She hoped her nervousness wasn’t too obvious.
“Oh, isn’t Stephanie here? She used to have today’s shift.” Nick asked, turning his head to face Miranda.
“Yes, but she has some private affairs to take care of, something with her mother, if I remember correctly. I’ve been hired to take her shifts for the next few days.” She pulled her ball-pen, writing down the table’s number on the notepad whilst taking a quick glimpse on the photo. It was definitely him. “I just remembered, this is a reserved table. You are Nick O’Neil?”
“Of course, if you’re new you couldn’t possibly know me. Yes, I’m Nick, I’m a regular guest here. Fillet of fish with fried potatoes and the macardia paste, please. It’s my favourite dish I admire this restaurant for. And a red wine, you can ask Dimitri, he knows which wines I prefer.” After he saw her clueless look, he added with an amused smile. “Well, you’re really new if they didn’t even introduce you to Dimitri, he’s the barkeeper.”
Miranda tried to let out a slight, shy laughter. “Oh, of course, my bad... I haven’t yet gotten used to the names...” She scribbled something onto the notepad and turned to the other guest. “Anything for you, sir?”
“Just a glass of water.” The man said, whilst nervously examining the surrounding tables.
“Ok, I’ll bring your drinks right away.” This was a good moment... she could turn around, accidentally bumping her ellbow into his back to distract him from the needle’s sting. Yes, definitely a good moment. She would just need to hold the pen’s button pressed for two seconds and...
“Anything the matter?” Nick asked.
Miranda instantly turned around and started walking over to the bar, whilst saying. “Nono, I was just checking for the other tables...” Damn it. Pull yourself together girl. You can’t have them get suspicious... the next time I come by... 
As instructed, she made her way over to the barkeeper, who quickly started nodding. “Yes, yes, Nick got quite an exquisite taste. You can tell him I will grab one of the wines from the cellar, I will need a few minutes.”
Nervously, Miranda grabbed a small platter, a bottle of clear water and two glasses, before heading back to Nick’s table. His guest had already picked up the conversation again. “And I tell you, you are NOT safe here. As to what I’ve heard, it’s not Martinez, but I’m sure he sends someone...”
“Geez... you’re getting paranoid, Berkley.” Nick commented, visibly less tensed up.
Miranda approached the table, placing the bottle and the glasses onto it. “Dimitri says he will need a few minutes to prepare the correct wine and asks for patience. Anything else I can serve you already?” Miranda said, whilst positioning herself behind Nick, who was by now browsing through the menu.
“Well... I would probably like a salad...” She just needed to carefully poke that needle into his back. Her nervous glare went over to the two bodyguards who were flanking the table and scanning the room. She didn’t think they have noticed her yet. “How about the Hawaian Green Oasis?” She could easyly pass by the bar and leave through the back exit after the job was done. “Leona?” She just needed to... “Are you even listening?”
Miranda “Oh”’d when she realized Nick had been talking to her the whole time. Her hand slightly clenching around the pen, she brought it back to her notepad. “I’m sorry, probably zoned out there... what again did you say?”
“I’ve said I would like a Hawaian Green...”
And a gunshot banged through the room.

18.
Filled with a mix of surprise and simple shock, Miranda watched her own hand flying past her head, before two more gunshots sounded, strong impacts hitting her chests and sending her stumbling backwards into an other table, causing it to fall over, her hitting the ground right next to it.
“Quick, check the room, may she’s not alone!” one of the bodyguards commanded to the second one.
“Arno, what the hell...” Nick asked in confusion, whilst jumping up from his chair.
“That waitress got some sort of needle or injector, I’ve seen it protrude from the pen. She’s the assassin.” He stepped closer, the large pistol still pointed at Miranda.
It took the pain until now to reach her brain and suddenly her body felt like it was on fire. She groaned and hissed, before she managed to shut down the nerves responsible for the reception of pain, quickly clearing up her head again.
“Geez... Did you need to shoot her into her chest?” She could hear Nick complain, his voice much colder then before. “It will be hard to interrogate a corpse.” His voice raised, talking to the panicking guests in the room. “Please don’t panic, it just appears there was someone trying to murder me. The situation is under control.”
He moved over to Miranda, squatting down in front of her, whilst pulling a silver-ornated magnum from his suit coat. He let the visible chamber rotate a few times, double checked the weapon to be properly loaded and then set it against her head. “You’re dead. You know that. The question is, whether you will die by my bullet or slowly and full of pain by bleeding out... It’s your choice... Who sent you?”
Miranda closed her eyes. She had to focus. This had her caught off-guard. Three wounds. The first shot had ripped her hand off. Damn, the bodyguard’s pistol was probably quite a heavy calibre. But as much as the lack of a hand was possibly traumatizing for a normal human, it wasn’t as severe to her. The wound wasn’t even dangerous, she could ignore it for now.
Different, however, was the situation with the two holes in her chest. She already noticed how her body started to artificially create oxygen to compensate for her now infunctional left lung. But that was a quite complex and energy-consuming procedure, she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. She had to close the wound and repair the organ asap. Which of course wasn’t exactly possible with another gun pointed at her head.
Slight panic rushed over Miranda. She was under severe time pressure. She needed to take out those firearms, keep herself alive regardless of the wounds and additionally regenerate her body. She barely had enough strength left to do one of these.
“Not going to answer? Well, too bad...” She suddenly felt a strong grip on her neck, squeezing her throat and threatening to suffocate her. Or rather, attempt to suffocate her. “You know, I can make this plenty times more painful if you don’t answer right now...”
Suddenly he jumped back, fluttering his hand through the air. “OH FUCK!” Slight smoke was coming from his hand’s palm and he was quick to react, grabbing the water bottle with his left, pouring the liquid across his slowly dissolving skin. “Watch out, her scales are sort of acidic.”
It took Miranda a second to realize that was actually correct. She could feel her skin oozing digestive acid in an instinctive attempt to repair her body with outward ‘ressources’.
“I don’t think she will tell us anything, kill her, I don’t want another surprise...” Nick ordered, whilst inspecting his reddened hand.”
Miranda reacted as quickly as possible, reshaping her skull into a much thicker front layer, just when the shot hit. She could feel the bullet effortless ripping through the skin, but it got indeed stuck in the solid bone plating. She let her head drop to her chests and rearranged some vines to let blood flow from the hole.

This had turned out perfect... If they just gave her a few moments... she needed to find a source of food... which actually shouldn’t be hard, she was in a goddamn restaurant. But something inside of her told her ‘some food’ wouldn’t be enough. She could already feel her muscle structure dissolving to deliver the energy necessary to keep her brain supplied with oxygen. For a second she couldn’t but scold herself for still sticking to a humanoid metabolism... This stuff was inefficient unlike anything else...
A slight ‘pling’ sounded when a bullet dropped to the wooden ground. She heard one of the bodyguards saying “What in the name of...” whilst some customers started to scream. It took her the split part of a second to realize she was standing. Wait, when did she decided to get up?
As if her body was acting by itself, she raised her right, mutilated arm and with inhuman speed, a set of three thing rope-like, blood-covered appendages shot forth from the arm stub, wrapping around the closest bodyguard and pulling him into her. Both her and the man dropped to the ground, but she quickly wrapped her limbs around him whilst solifying her muscles to a degree preventing their arms and legs from being moved at all.
The bodyguard squirmed and tried to get his weapon pointing at her, but his hands were caught between their bodys, his hands uselessy wiggling around. And then he started to scream in pain, as more smoke raise from every point his body was touching hers. With one of her more clear thoughts, she had one of her ribs shot forth and impale his head, quickly ending the terror... for him.
People where running all across the room, most of them searching for any sort of exit, stumbling over fallen furniture or each other. The second bodyguard appeared entirely frozen in shock as well, watching how his comrade’s corpse was slowly dissolving in Miranda’s grip.
Whilst Nick appeared to be stunned for a few seconds, as well, he quickly bent down and picked up his weapon with his unscathed left hand. By the time he had the gun pointing towards her, Miranda’s body slowly stood up again.
Miranda was still as much in shock as quite the most people around, but she could feel... now... she was feeling better. The third bullet, which had been stuck somewhere in her spine, literally plopped out of her body, whilst the wounds closed up again. She even saw her right hand slowly reforming. And she noticed how her inner body’s structure altered itself, dissolving her ‘impractical’ organs for the time being.
Nick pulled the trigger and with a BAM his shot pierced through her right chest. “I’ve not...” BAM, the second shot missed. “... come this far...” BAM another bullet went through her chest. “...to die now!” BAM, BAM, two more rounds ate their way through the semi-solid material her main body was made up off. She took a step forward, pretty much unharmed by the few pieces of metal somewhere swimming around in her chest and slowly dissolving to join her body. Click. Click. “Fuck... What the hell is that thing?!” Nick sweared, whilst trying to reload the revolver with merely using his left hand.
“We...” Miranda said in a voice unlike anything she had heard before... “are many...”

She felt strange. Not exactly ‘strange’ as in something negative. Actually she felt great. She actually felt sort of ‘full’ as well. Though her stomach, which was just reforming in her bowels, probably was empty. In confusion, she slowly rose her head. Her eyes went wide with shock when she saw the room surrounding her.
“N-no... that...” She stumbled backwards and nearly tripped when her feet hit something on the ground. It was the upper body of a women, her mouth opened in a pained scream. And she wasn’t the online one... Everywhere... blood... corpses... and stuff Miranda didn’t even want to identify. And holes everywhere in wall and ceiling.
She felt how a set of spikes slowly retracted into her back. “No... I couldn’t...” Had she done this? She turned around. Behind here the same picture, only death and destruction. “No... No...”
If it wouldn’t have been for the sirens approaching and the last part of her still sane logic triggering, Miranda would have probably lost her mind right there. But realizing it would be ‘bad’ to be found here by the authoritys, she quickly made her stumbling way out of the restaurant, through the back door. Behind her, she could hear the moaning of concrete and steal. Increasing her pace, she started to run from the building, and when she turned her head around, she could see the building slowly collapsing into itself. 

Her face was sinister and grim, but at least she wasn’t crying or stuttering.
“So I was right, assuming it was you who brought down the ‘Lombarda’ and killed all the victims...” Artemis commented her story.
Miranda simply nodded.
Silence remained, until, after a time period seemingly endless, she finally said: “I think it was an automatic reaction of my body. It merely attempted to save itself... by devouring organic material in it’s closer proximity...
I don’t know how long I’ve been aimless stumbling through the night. But at some point...”

19.
She remembered this street... She made her way along it, turning to the right on the second crossing and could see her appartment. The artificial sky was red, sunrise was just a few minutes off. If she managed to reach her flat unseen before everyone else woke up...
“Miranda? Martinez, it’s her!” she heard somebody calling. She felt someone grab her side and pulling her off towards a car. She wasn’t exactly in the state to resist. She didn’t refuse when the door of the black formal car opened and she was gestured inside.
“Miranda, are you ok?” she heard Don’s voice from the seat next to her. Looking up at him, he probably realized she wasn’t. “Martinez, get us over to my mansion, she’s under shock. And probably call the doc, she’s splattered with blood and probably wounded...”
“No...” Miranda said, weakly. She didn’t need medical attention. 
The car’s motor started and she could feel the acceleration as it made it’s way towards sunrise. “Miranda, listen to me: You can’t think straight right now. The building collapsed, you could have taken some severe internal injuries.”
“No... I’ve been out of the restaurant before it collapsed...” she responded.
“But the blood? What the hell happened in there?!”
She took a few seconds before answering. “I... I happened...” It was the point where the memories came back, pictures washing over her mind, pictures of dead bodys, blood and internals splattered all across. Miranda simply cowered down in her seat and started to sob.

“This is...” Even the usually well-literated Don was speechless right now.
He was sitting in his armchair, leaning onto the desk, his forehead buried in his palms. Miranda was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. She still didn’t feel well and her head refused to clear up entirely, but two hours of gentle words and probably the few glasses of strong whisky had helped her. Of course she was going to regret accepting the drinks... but she had needed it...
“But this is the first time you lost control of your abilities?” Don asked, cautiously, eyeing her from behind his fingers.
“Yes...” Miranda answered. “But admittedly I didn’t explore my abilities very often... I merely made small changes to my body, here and there... usually to hide my identity. Like a mask.”
“I see...”
Martinez, standing leant against the wall behind her, his usual spot, slowly started: “But... if you can control it... normally... then your abilities are, without doubt... let’s call it ‘beyond useful’.” His voice was solid, neutral. If he was confused, intimidated or shocked by the story she had just told, he didn’t show it, for sure.
She had told Don most about her shapeshifting abilities. Or much rather, a rough summary. She had neither mentioned Bibi, nor the operation or the source of her abilities itself. And whilst Don had probably noticed the sudden plotholes, he didn’t ask further when she decided to skip something.
“This is utter irony.” Don concluded, folding his arms and leaning back in his armchair. “When I’ve said you’re something special, I for sure didn’t exspect something like this... And if these abilities were to be used for the right cause, they could save countless lives... whilst capable of creating a massacre as well...”
Miranda wasn’t sure what she should think, either. After taking control over the parasites abilities, she didn’t exspect things could have turned out like this... She would need to think of measures to counter the possibility of her body running wild. She would start by doing some research on human metabolism. Probably she could find something permitting her to create large reserves within her own body, for emergency situations.
“But in the end, it doesn’t matter what exactly you are... You’re still a member of my family, Miranda. And just because of something like this, I will for sure not abandon you. To be honest, it’s quite the opposite:
I trust in you. You’ve got the willpower to control something like this. Probably you just need more experience. But if you obtain this experience... you could be the key to finally stop all of these underground wars at once.
We’ll help you. We will try to help you evaluate the possibilities of your body. And we will give you opportunitys to test your abilities. If you want that to happen, that is...”
She didn’t need long to answer: “I didn’t know it could turn out like this... I was careless to assume such incredible power would come without responsibility...” Her eyes glowed with determination. “I’ll follow you, Don. I will do as you say, whenever you say, whereever you say. Not just for me our you... but for the family and everyone. And if it would cost my life... so be it.”

“Well... and then we started testing the limits of my abilities. Heck, I’ve even had myself being shot at on Martinez’ shooting range. I’ve probably seen more lead fired at me that one day then a professional soldier in his entire life...”
Artemis frowned. “That sounds sort of painful?”
“Now, it’s not hard to disable pain if you can alter your body. It was much more amusing to see how one’s own body reacts to the bullet wounds. Honestly! If you don’t feel pain and aren’t in danger to actually take lasting damage...
Well, in the end we figured out that I can harden my skin to a degree where it does resist everything below armor piercing ammunition. And large-calibre pistols. But even those bullets capable of ‘injuring’ me actually don’t do much. As long as I can regenerate the wounds, that is...
But there is probably one other episode of my life I should mention...
Shortly after... the ‘Lombarda-Incident’, which was declared a terrorist attack to the public, Don received a call from Rigoro: He offered to talk about the situation, not intending to waste further lives on their vendetta.”
Artemis took another sip on his cup. “Well... that would be quite a change of heart, given Don ordered his son’s death just days ago. Assuming Rigoro knew it has been Don...”
“We assumed so. And trivially this meant Rigoro was trying to lure us into a trap. And accordingly, we came up with a quite interesting plan...”

20.
The car halted. “This should be the building.” Don’s bodyguard said, an elderly man of high age, before turning off the engine. The hulk of a man got out of the car and examined the surrounding before opening the rear door. Don got out of the car, carefully looking around. 
Steps sounded and the bodyguards hand instinctively moved into his suit coat. “No need to pull your gun.” A female voice said, before the owner of the voice stepped forth from a nearby wall’s shadow. “I’ll guide you to Rigoro, if you don’t mind following me.” She said, before turning around and walking off again.
Don and is henchmen hesitated for a second, but then decided to follow the woman. After all they had agreed to meet in a desolate area like this. Leading them to a small butcher shop, the women knocked onto the back door, which promptly opened. She gesticulated her followers to move inside as well.
Stepping into the small, dimly lit room, the first thing Don noticed was the small table in the middle, with a single light hanging over it. Indeed, Rigoro was sitting there, currently lighting a cigarett. The woman and another, male, bodyguard took their positions next to his shoulders.
Don frowned. “We said one guard on either side...” he complained, but took his seat on the other side of the table.
“You’ve killed my son and I assumed you would try to kill me as well. Meeting here with you is dangerous. The least I can do for myself is to bring a third gun...” Rigoro answered, playing with the cigarette in his hands. “But where are my manners... You would like a drink?”
Don shook his head. “No thanks, I’m not really made for alcoholic drinks...”
“Well, that’s a pity...” Rigoro reached for something below the table and pulled up a bottle of scotch. One of his guards reached him a small glas from a nearby table and he proceeded to fill and empty it again. “Ah... good stuff.”
Don waited for a few seconds, but since it didn’t seem Rigoro wanted to start talking, he did: “We both know we’re here to end this war before it even begins. You’ve started to threaten my people and I’ve sent a threat back. We both know this could turn out ugly for either side, even more so if police or a nobleman gets involved...”
Rigoro simply nodded, before drinking another glass.
“Let’s make it simple. These are my conditions.” Don said, pulling a small letter from his coat and putting it onto the table. Rigoro reached for the paper, took his time unpacking the actual message. Judging from his facial expression, he didn’t like what he read, though.
He then pulled out his lighter again and set the message ablaze, letting it’s black remains drop onto the table. “I’ll be kind and simply forget I’ve read that insult of an offer... You probably didn’t realize who you have been dealing with, old man. I’m Rigoro von Frankye. I’m leader of an organization with multiple dozen of loyal followers. If  I would want to, I could easyly take over this entire city within a single night of bloodshed...”
Don chuckled. “Don’t overdo it. You’re so called ‘loyal followers’ aren’t more then some better beggars. I will not doubt you have more men then I do... but three thrown stones still don’t rival a well armed and trained bodyguard.” Don leant forward, resting his ellbows onto the table and folding his hands. “Currently, I see the situation as following: I’ve Martinez, you probably heard of him. As well, I’ve got ‘Black Salamander’. She’s young, but oh hell, don’t make her go wild. You see what happened while I merely tasked her to kill your son. If I order her to go after you... There will be bloodshed, but without any of my men dieing or even firing a single bullet. You’re in no position to negotiate. My offer has already been beyond gratious, given I could as well simply kill you and take over your entire buisness.”
Rigoro put the glass aside and leant back. “Eventually... but there’s a slight issue with your view of the world: Right now, your life is in my hands.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is it? Don’t think number beats experience. Sergei has probably come into age, but he compensates for that with experience and sturdyness your two young hoppers can’t compete with.”
“Do you really want to see whether your words are true?” Rigoro’s voice had taken on a threatening tone, as if the content of his words hadn’t been enough of a threat already.
“Rigoro. I respect the life of other people. That’s why I made you a gratious offer, labelled that offer a second time and even explained the situation in a way even you would understand. But it appears you don’t want to see the truth. This is the last time I will repeat my offer, if you decline, I will have to...”
BAM. Don twitched and his head tilted downwards. Blood was leaking from his pelvis. Sergei was about to reach into his coat, but Rigoro’s guards had already pulled their guns, two machine pistols, pointing at the bodyguard. “No offense, oldtimer, but you better leave your hands high in the air.” The young women taunted. With a worried look, Sergei stepped back and raised the hands to his head.
“It appears you’re getting old, Don... Not realizing it’s a trap until you’re sitting right inside of it...” Rigoro said, raising his pistol from below the table and pointing it at Don’s head. “Any last words?”
Don chuckled, raising his head again. A smile was upon his face. “Well, I hoped it wouldn’t come to this... but it’s just as Don said, you wouldn’t really try to negotiate after your son has been killed...”
BAM, CLING, PEW. Rigoro jumped back, off his chair, when the bullet he had fired at ‘Don’ ricochet’d off the man’s head and into one of the surrounding walls. Miranda rose as well, albeit slower, whilst Don’s face shifted into the black-scaled face that was hers. “What the... Gun it down!” Rigoro yelled, but just when the words left his mouth, Mirandas arms already shot forth, forming sharp spikes which literally pierced through the weapons of his two guards, turning them into fragments of useless scrap.
Rigoro raised his own weapon, but a different gunshot sounded and blood splashed when his hand was pierced by Sergei’s shot. “Old, but still capable...” Sergei, or much rather; Don, commented his shot. “See, young one, that’s why you never show your face to the public.” He aimed the gun at Rigoro’s wide-opened eyes and pulled the trigger, sending the ‘young one’s corpse to the ground.
The two guards took a few steps back, but realized the only exit was actually behind Don’s back. Taking all the time he ned, Don opened up the chamber of his pistols and pulled two single bullets from a pocket, reloading the weapon again. After confirming his gun was properly secured, he resheated it. “Miranda, those two are yours...”
Miranda tried her best not to let emotions run free, but it wasn’t hard to notice the discomfort in her voices. “Do they really need to die?”
“No, please! Have mercy! I will never work in anything illegal again, I swear!” the man said, dropping to his knees.
“Miranda, they know my identity and they know about your abilties. This needs to be kept secret, no exceptions.” Don answered, his voice strict and cold.
“No, no, we will not tell anyone. I promise! I already forgot about your names and I really can’t remember faces well.” the man kept on brabbling. His female companion didn’t appear as panicked as he was and was visibly searching for an escape route. To her dismay, she found none, Rigoro had choosen this room exactly for that reason.
Miranda walked over to the man, cowered down and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I always see the best in other people and generally avoid death or injury, on either side...”
“Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise, I will never...”
“But if you lose all your proud and start doing everything once your life is in danger, I cannot rely on your word to keep this secret...
I’m sorry.”

21.
Miranda’s face was a grimace of grim. “They say if you did something once, you can do it a second time as well. And in my case, a third time, a fourth time, a fifth time... I’ve lost track after it summed up to a dozen...” She chlucked at herself. “And here I am, a mutated thing of an anim, working as a mafia assassin, talking to a nobleman who presented himself to me...”
There was a wicked smile running across Artemis’ face. “That’s the way fate usually takes... You want to hear my story?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Be advised, though, it’s much less interesting then yours. I think it all started about twenty years ago... I will not guarantuee for the truth of anything I say... I wasn’t capable to remember anything that happened around that time and merely can put pieces together I’ve heard from various persons...”

Watching his eight-years old son sitting on the ground of the large living room, toying with some cars, Benjamin Wellens turned around again, facing the four-eyes in front of him, who was currently reading in the document he had brought with him. What the hell was that gesture meant to show? That he already had forgotten what he had come for, in first place?
“Simon... just say it.” Benjamin asked, or probably ordered, the other man.
“Mr. Wellens... I suspect your son to be subject to the AND-Syndrome.”
Benjamin tried to keep his composture, but the red taint of his face didn’t help hiding his true feelings. “You said... it was impossible!”
“No, I’ve merely said it was extremely unlikely. But not impossible.”
“You did not even try to stop us. Or to talk us out of it.”
“With all necessary respect... Who would I be to advise a nobleman?” Simon said with a slight hint of bitterness in his voice. “And... You yourself knew how much Sara wished for a child... Artemis or Juno... she had settles upon the names months before you contacted me...”
“Don’t try to change the subject! It was hard enough for me to lose her one year after Artemis’ birth... You told us it would be safe to have a child, regardless of the genetic defect in my DNA. You said the chances were below 1% for AND to trigger on Artemis!”
“Yes. But less then 1% is still more then 0%, Mr. Wellens. I’ve mentioned... no, warned you it could occur…“ the medical scientist insisted.
Wellens sighed and buried the head in his hands. “What has been done, has been done, I guess...” He slowly raised his head again, fixating Simon. “You’ll fix him.”
“Sir, that’s not possible, you know there is no...”
“YOU do NOT tell ME what is possible! I’m the owner of the largest medical and electronic concern of the whole world. We survived the long crysis, the third world war and even the Dusk. We were part of the creation of the first animi. You are not going to tell me we can’t find a cure for that damn defect...”
Simon chose his words carefully. “Sir... You know your brother spent millions, if not billions to find a cure for his own son’s disease. And you know how nothing worked. ‘Advanced Neurocyte Digestion’ is a genetic defect unlike any other we know of... It’s simply not curable... and we can’t even stop it’s progression...”
Benjamin again turned around to watch Artemis. “How long does he have?”
Simon browsed through his documents again. “Hard to say. The first signs of brain malfunction will probably become visible across the next few years. I would assume he will lapse into a permanent coma before his 14th birthday. About five years from now, if we assume a moderate progression of AND. After the comatose phase begins... he will live on for anything between one and three years. Even if we use machines to keep him alive afterwards... his brain will be infunctional past that point.”
“Simon... I’ve lost my wife... and now I’m going to lose my only son? I cannot accept that... Please, I ask you, not just as your employer, but as a worried father, too: Continue the research and find a way to save Artemis. Not just as a braindead puppet in a bed. But as a living being! Whatever it may take...”
Simon kept his glare tacked onto the documents, trying his best not to see the pleading eyes directed at him. “Sir... Benjamin... we’ve reached the limits of what medicine can do... 
I wouldn’t even know where to search for a solution... dozen’s of ideas and rudiments... and none of them revealed any results...”
“Damn it...” A slight crack spread across the surface of the glass table when Benjamin’s fist crashed down upon it. “I cannot believe we have to forfeit in front of a simple genetic defect... That’s just... Simon, if all medical and conventional ways did not work... continue searching.. in a different perspective. Consider alternatives... everything you can think of... If you think it’s worth the consideration, I’ll even do some spiritual rain dances or occult chantings... But please don’t give up just yet!”
Different emotions clashed in Simon’s mind. Of course, researching an infinite problem without solution pretty much assured a well-payed job for the rest of his life... but he was a scientist and would much more prefer to actually help people... or obtain fame by founding a new principle of modern research...
But hell... science was all about scaling problems which apparently didn’t have any solution. “Yes, sir. I’ll continue my research. And I promise you, I will not give up until I found a way...”

Four years later
“Daddy... Do I... have to die?”
Tears ran down across Benjamin’s cheeks when he heard Artemis speaking to him like that. No parent should ever have to hear these words from his own child.
“Daddy?”
“No, Artemis. Not yet. I promise you, I will find a way to cure your illness. I promise!”
“Thank you... daddy...” Once more, like countless other times across the past months, Artemis dropped into sudden unconsciousness. AND has progressed worse then they had exspected... he was already losing his motorical abilities. He wasn’t even capable to controlling his sight anymore, his eyes randomly rolling around whenever he heard someone nearby.
This was a fate noone should endure. Even less a child.
A cell phone ringed. Slowly, Benjamin’s hand slid to the phone in his jacket. He considered just turning it off, he wasn’t really in the mood to lead his concern... But his sense of responsibility told him he should check the call, may it was important. The display indicated it was Simon. Hesitantly, he pressed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. “Yes?”
“Benjamin... Benjamin... we found it...” Simon’s voice was beyond exhausted. It wasn’t hard to assume he hadn’t slept since days. “We found a way to save Artemis...”

Two years later
“But Mr. Wellens, I must remember you again: Even assuming this will work, which is entirely untested and hypothetical... In his current state, Artemis brain is already severely damaged... he may lost all his previous memorys and will never regain them again. And even if we... now... ‘save’ him. He may will not remember your face. It would be a surprise if he would be behaving any different from a new-born baby.”
“I know. You told me already.”
“You still want me to do it?” Simon asked, cautiously.
“Of course. If there is just the slightest chance of saving Artemis’ life, regardless how he may act afterwards, I’ll go for it... And even if we wouldn’t save him... you could gain important data in regards to AND... even if Artemis will not make it... he may will save anyone else suffering from this defect...”
Simon placed his hand upon Wellen’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Benjamin. I will give you your son back. Or at the very least, I will give you a son...”

22.
“Now... given you are still here, whatever they invented, probably worked? What did they do to you, in first place?” Miranda asked curiously. Artemis was for sure not looking like somebody with a dead brain.
“I think it would be best to simply show it to you...” the nobleman said, placing his cup onto the table again and standing up. “If you don’t mind following me...”
Leading her through a couple of hallways decorated with large portraits, Artemis entered a large spiral staircase and proceeded downwards. Considering the amoung of steps they took and the size of each individual step... they probably were a few metres below the surface by now.
Artemis left the staircase and walked up to a metal door, entering a short code into a panel next to it, before leaning down and letting the scanner check his eyes. A green light flashed up, and the door unlocked, permitting them both to enter the room behind.
When Artemis flicked the light on with a switch on the wall... “This looks... interesting...” Miranda said, stepping closer.
“Just be careful not to touch it... Of course it was refined and improved along the time, but it’s still some fragile lab prototype...” Artemis commented her approach.
“What actually is this? It looks like an horror-fied version of a dentist seat...” Miranda tried to describe the strange contraption. Well it pretty much was a dentist seat, though there was much more machinery around. Exspecially the large chunk of metal next to it, which, given it’s radiating glow, pretty much looked like a reactor to her.
Artemis chuckled. “It’s an experimental device. A factory designed to create and implant nanobots. Tiny machines designed for minimal purpouses...”
“Oh, that explain’s those large needle-like appendages... well... I better don’t think about how this thing works, after all...”

A couple of days after the first experiment
“So... you’re telling me you used this thing to shoot a load of robots into my head? That’s... sort of gross... and cool... and amazing, all at once...” the young boy Artemis commented whilst inspecting the machine closely.
Simon smiled brightly. This was a scientific breakthrough. Not only did Artemis keep some of his previous memories, admittedly he had forgotten a lot, but he had as well regained all his senses and motor abilitys within a matter of days. “Yes. The nanobots worked as intended and compensate for the destruction of your neurocytes by repairing and replacing them. It’s not a perfect solution, since it neither defeats the actual defect and as well links your survival to this machine... but it is a solution to a problem we never deemed solveable...”
“To think I’ve a couple of electronic machines running free in my very brain... Well, given the video material you showed me, I was rather dead before... I’m inclinded to thank you and this machine... Would you mind giving me a copy of the scientific documents?”
The scientist chuckled. Not only did the nanobots keep Artemis alive... but it appeared they had... well... raised his brain’s abilities. First tests indicated an IQ vastly surpassing any of the scientists Simon has ever been working with... “Sure, though you’ll have to never carry them out of this room, your father’s instruction. Your life is directly linked to this machine... you know how eager noblemen are to take advantage of each other... knowing of this ‘weakness’ of yours...”

Artemis nodded. “Sure, sure, I’ve already written down a concept of 20 pages volume about how we can explain my long disappearance. And I’ve prepared fake medical documents as well.”
Raising his arms to the ceiling, Simon stated, his voice filled with theatrical drama: “Oh, lord, what sort of monster did I create...” before he started laughing lowly.
Artemis came over, grinning widely. “Well... you pretty much created the ultimate smartass...”

Six years later
Silence. Simon was surprised by Artemis’ utter lack of a reaction. One minute passed, until he asked “Artemis... didn’t you hear me? I’ve said...”
Artemis’ voice was cold and solid. “I did hear you, Simon... I need to consider the situation.” Still sitting calmly on the chair behind his desk, Artemis raised his hands until the respective finger tips connected. “This is a tricky situation...”
“Artemis! Your father is DEAD, didn’t you hear me?!” Simon said, visibly upset.
“I very well understood you the first time you said it.”
“But... but... shouldn’t you... like react or something? Don’t you feel sad or angry?”
“I do indeed feel sad for the demise of my father... and I do feel anger towards his murderer, even if you didn’t tell me anything of the circumstances yet... but starting to cry or scream will not help anything. I do feel emotions... but I’m intelligent enough to actually contain them.”
Simon’s face turned grim when he realized the message behind these words. “At the very least... you will be a good successor to your father...”
“Not just a successor... I will be an avenger, as well...
Simon... I need someone I can trust, who as well is experienced with the machine in our cellar. I will need you to make some modifications to the nanobots... and probably organize some other stuff...”

One month after Bejamin Wellens’ death
It was raining. Perfect... that added three more percent to the chance of being successfull. If not four. Taking cover below a balcony, Artemis pulled a phone from his long coat, dialing in a short number. The call was answered after a couple of seconds. “I’ve come to take revenge...” Artemis said, before ending the call again.
Within a few seconds, light flared up in the mansion just ahead of him and a siren sounded. He chuckled to himself. Oh, how much fun it would be to simple turn around now and come back a few days later, calling again... ‘Lord Adamaan’ had gotten quite paranoid... Now, everyone would have gotten paranoid if his concern had taken severe hits across the past months, all originating from the same source.
And not only that, but as well Artemis hadn’t even tried to cover the tracks linking WellTek Industries with all those incidents, sabotages and buy-outs... Adamaan had killed his father, Benjamin Wellens. And Artemis knew that. And Adamaan knew, since a few weeks, about Artemis knowing it. Well, he actually had even tried to kill Benjamin’s successor as well... of course that one hadn’t worked out...
A normal person would have rechecked every piece of equipment and then taken a few seconds to remember every single detail of his plan. But Artemis didn’t need to do either. He knew everything was correct. Slowly proceeding towards the entrance gate of the mansion, he stepped into the lighted area, into the plain sight of the cameras.

He noticed how his appearance was broadcast over radio, the countless flashlights, on the wall’s surrounding the mansion, spinning around and rushing to the main entrance. As he had predicted, however, no gunshots sounded. He could spot a couple of faces in the dark night, faces pointing their rifles and other guns at him. Artemis didn’t need to calm himself, he was calm.
He knew what was going to happen next: The broad steel gate opened, permitting him entry. With a sly smile and undisputeable confidence, Artemis walked forward, through the gate and along the wide paved road leading up to the main building. He knew the gate was closing behind him. He knew about two dozen guards were surrounding him, moving with each of his steps.
After two minutes, he reached the main building. A butler opened the front doors and left them wide open, before disappearing into the building again. “Artemis...” a male voice said, it’s owner stepping forth from a room until he was standing right behind the entrance, flanked by four armed and armored guards carrying rifles. “Unexspected... to see you just walking up to my front door. “
The baron’s voice was audibly curious. “Assuming you just called me... what exactly would you want to claim revenge for? Unless I’m mistaken you tried your best to ruin my concern without any reason?”
Artemis didn’t say anything, his face showing nothing but a simplistic neutral expression.
“I understand... Of course you know I’ve ordered the death of your father... Well, unavoidable... WellTek was expanding into my territory and he disagreed to cooperate...”
Again, Artemis didn’t show any reaction.
“By the way... weren’t you meant to be laying in a deep coma right now? One of my... informants... claimed you were prone to a genetic defect turning you into a driveling something...”
Nothing.
“Probably I will have to execute the informant for this sort of missinformation...”
...
“Ok... In all honesty... what do you want here, Artemis?”
.
“Do you seek death? You probably noticed the countless guns directed at you. I could kill you with a single order of mine. And of course my men will shoot you the second you try to enter this building or draw any sort of weapon. As well there’s an energetic shield covering the entrance, just in case...”
A slight smile ran across Artemis’ face.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because it simply surprises me, how simple this all was... I wasn’t exspecting a tough problem... but you weren’t even a challenge...”
“What the hell are you talking about?!” Adamaan said, slightly angered, stepping closer to the entrance.
Artemis chucled and shook his head. “Adamaan... there are countless who achieved their state by working hard, bribing the right people or sleeping with the important ones... but with all necessary respect... you’re a shame for our class.”
Shaking his head, Adamaan said. “Probably my informant wasn’t that wrong about your mental state after all... I think it’s sort of mercy to kill you right now. Take him down...”

23.
Rapid gunfire sounded, muzzleflashs enlightened the light, bullets struck into metal, flesh and the ground itself. When the first burst of lead ceased, Artemis was the only one standing outside, holding a glistening something in his right hand, sending out hisses and puffs of smoke whenever rain touched the heated metal.
He chuckled, running a finger along his left cheek. A small trail of blood could be seen there. “Hehe... appears I still need to refine this... one of the bullets actually hit me, even if just a graze...” Pulling the coat back, Artemis turned the sword around and resheated it into the thick, white-metallic, blue-glowing sheath. It was emanating a low buzzing noise.
Adamaan’s face was a display of shock and fear. “What... did... just happen...” He could see his men’s corpses laying around, each of them spreading blood across the nightly grass. Given by the low light levels, he could only see a few of them... and apparently they all had died by gun wounds.
“Ballistics. On this close range, these rifles have a bullet drop of neglectible 0,03mm. Given every of your men fired an average burst of five to eight shots, this sums up to about 160 bullets fired at me from 24 directions. I’ve reflected the first twelve shots to take down all security cameras surrounding this area. The next 48 shots hit both heart and head of every person shooting me. I’ve used the other bullets to paint a symmetrical fractal into the wall to our right, I love fractals. And of course I’ve sent a couple of them into the wall next to you, seperating a few cables. The energy shield should fade... about now...”
There was a spattering and a few sparks, before a hiss indicated some machine had just ceased to function. With a smile, Artemis walked forward, towards the entrance of the manor. Without further command, the four remaining bodyguards opened fire. Continously walking forward, a whirl of movement was visible in front of Artemis.
After a few seconds of continous shots, multiple clicks indicated all four guns had been shot empty and suddenly Artemis right arm blurred into vision, angled up in front of him, holding the sword towards Adamaan. It was a strange weapon, made of a white alloy, shaped like something best described as katana.
As he stepped into the manor, two of the guards charged forward, trying to hit him with their, now empty, guns, whilst the other two quickly fumbled to reload their ones. With a simple strike, Artemis’ weapon cut through the incoming piece of metal, through flesh and bone, simply gliding through the man’s arm like it was nothing, sending the gun and the hand flying off. Within the mere fractal of a second, the same happened to the second guard. But before the men could do as much as scream, another slice beheaded both of them, before Artemis’ resheated the weapon in another graceful motion.
Adamaan was already stumbling backwards, Artemis followed him and as the two last guards brought up their rifles, aiming at him, their heads were quickly flying off as well. Stepping across the four corpses, Artemis approached the baron, who was now turning around, trying to escape upstairs. A single strike and he fell to the ground, screaming in pain as his feet were cut off.
Artemis cowered down above the man, slowly pulling his weapon out again. “Adamaan... do you see this sword?” he asked in a neutral tone, hovering it in front of the man’s face. “It’s sole purpouse is your death. Took a couple of millions to adapt the forging of swords to modern metals. It’s made of pure CynoTriTan.
But that’s not the sole reason why it’s that expensive... 80% of the price were made up by the sheath on my belt... it consists of a micro-nuclear-reactor, fuelling a trans-phasic energy shield. That’s because this weapon was sharpened to a blade width of a single molecule.
There is no material in this world capable of serving as a sheath. And not just that, the sheath as well serves to sharpen the sword after every use. Or even without me using it. Just by coming into contact with air, the swords cutting edge becomes dull in about 14 seconds due to oxidation...
But since I’m here now, I think the sword was worth every single percent of the investment... As I’ve said.. it was designed for the sole purpouse of permitting me to take revenge on you...”
“W-wait... I give up... you won... you can have my money... my mansion... you can even take my wife if you want to. Just don’t kirararagagghgh” Adamaans voice turned into a strange mix of incomprensible sounds when the sword cut through his mouth, slicing his cheeks open and cutting off his tongue.
“I should probably mention that I have been in a coma... but with the help of a few nanobots, we got me back up... even better, my intelligence and reflexes are now far superior to any human... I as well had the nanobots to be changed, improving the neural system of my entire body to accomodate my brain’s speed. With my precision, I could use this ‘weapon’ as a tool to transplant organs within less then a minute. Or I could use it to prolong your death to about 3 hours, 25 minutes and 17 seconds...”
Adamaan’s gurgling took on a panicked tone, before the weapon sliced vertically through his head, ending his life.
“But luckily for you, I do not have fun in torturing people and as well can’t see a logic reason behind doing so...”

24.
During Artemis’ story, they had walked back upstairs and were already resting in two armchairs in the nobleman’s large lounge.
“And that’s pretty much it. After Adamaan’s death, the value of my corporation skyrocketed and the other noblemen started to put on distance. It’s quite obvious, to them, that I killed Adamaan. They’re worried I could go after them as well... What an illogical conclusion.” He sighed.
Miranda smiled ever so lowly. “Thanks.”
Raising an eyebrow, Artemis asked: “What for?”
“Nothing special. But when I heard about that baron’s death from Martinez, I promised myself to thank the person who killed one of those bastards, if I ever were to meet him.
However, you still didn’t tell me what you do want from me?”
Artemis facial expression darkened severely. “Did you ever consider using your abilities for a greater good? I mean, past assassinating random criminal lords?”
The shapeshifter chuckled. “Not really... I doubt there’s any good coming from me. Or the thing inside of me.”
“How about you start now, by saving the world? And yes, I’m fully aware this is probably one of the most overused phrases in every terrible superhero comic.”
“Are you going to task me to kill a nobleman intent on developing a weapon of mass destruction?” Miranda asked with an amused grin. Her grin slowly died down as she saw Artemis’ face. “You aren’t really going to”
“Not exactly what you would imagine, but if you widen the definition, what you just said could actually be true.”
“Not interested. I’ve learned my lesson, the last time I engaged a baron, outside of his own territory, I’ve managed to nearly die. As you probably witnessed.” Miranda responded and was considering to get up. There would be enough trouble with the death of Baron Firenze, she really didn’t need to draw more attention to herself and her family.
She chuckled... did she really just consider Don and the other’s ‘her family’?
“It’s your choice, but if you leave now, there is a 87% chance that humanity will not survive the next decade.” Artemis simply responded, before taking another sip of tea, his face neutral and without expression.
“I doubt one of the baron’s would actually permit another one to build a superweapon to dominate or destroy mankind... they’re way to greedy to let someone else have something like that.” Miranda responded.
“First of all, assuming what you said would be correct, look at me right now: What am I doing? I’m a nobleman and right now acting up against that... However, sadly it’s not as easy as that. Actually, you could say the ‘super weapon’, or actually both of them, are already completed. And on the loose.”
“On the loose? Does that mean... we’re talking about some sort of biological weapon now?
A scary mutant of sorts?” Miranda smiled in slight disbelief. Artemis simply kept staring at her. She pouted, staring back. His eyes were locked on hers, not moving, not twitching, not expressing anything... and yet he hinted something.
It hit her like a truck. “... I am the weapon you’re talking about!”
“One of them, yes.” Artemis responded.
She couldn’t stand the thought of being compared to a ‘super weapon of doom’... but she couldn’t deny the logic behind it: She was a military experiment, designed to grant shapeshifting abilities to a single person. And against the actual intentions of said military, she had managed to obtain and control the full spectrum of her abilities. She was near immortal and... wasn’t exactly lacking the offensive abilities either.

“And what are we going to do about that? I’m not exactly a threat to mankind, as you probably noticed I’m quite confident with my current life. Or are you intending to bribe me with your ridicolous amount of wealth in an attempt to make me kill all other nobleman, permitting you to become the world’s ruler? Or something along those lines?”
Artemis smiled. “I’m not the type of person lusting for power. I’m too rational for such thoughts.”
“Then what else do you want from me?”
“No offense intended, but if you are capable of ‘optimizing’ every part of your body, why is your mind still that sluggish? I already told you what the issue is...” Artemis sighed lowly, as if he would be talking to a child.
Miranda wasn’t sure whether she could complain about the insult, outright leave the room or figure out what he was actually referring to. She decided on latter one. Silence remained for the two minutes she took to run through every part of what Artemis had said so far.
She blinked in surprise. Could it be...
“I’m not the only one...”

25.
“Of course! If they created me, the military could as well have started to create more beings like me. They could literally have a whole army of me’s in one of their research facilities!” Miranda exclaimed. The thought of someone else having her abilities... and probably less moral restrictions...
“Well, you hit the spot, though you’re slightly overdoing it.” Artemis got up, heading over to a nearby cabinet, opening one of it’s many drawers. Retrieving a document file from it, he returned to his armchair, whilst holding out the brown cover to Miranda. Even if it wouldn’t have been for the oversized red ‘TOP SECRET’ written across, she could have guessed what that document could only be about.
“They call it ‘Project Morpheus’. It started about two years after the meteor crash and the shifter incident. These documents cover the first five experiments, including you, and the informant who got me this material as well informed me about a new sixth experiment going to start somewhen next year.”
Opening the folder, Miranda found a couple of sheets about possible participiants, some rejected, some other marked with an ’approved’ stamp, including her own. Her finger stroked across the picture of her old face.
“Subject #1 was an utter failure... the research lab nearly eliminated itself when they simply dropped a shifter into a human body. The facilitiy took a couple of years to recover from the following havoc and the military barely managed to contain the resulting shifter attack enough to hide it from publicity.
Subject #2 and #3 didn’t run much better... They tried using energetic forcefields and then the restrictor, the same device they implanted into you as well, both times either nothing happened or, as they loosened the restrictions, the host succumbed to the parasite.
Subject #4 went slightly better. The host actually awakened from the coma. However, as soon as he was fully awake, he went mad, started screaming and attacked one of the scientists, shouting something along the lines of ‘MAKE IT SHUT UP! MAKE IT STOP!’. According to the files ‘the subject had to be put down’.
And then we got you, Subject #6. The document is sort of outdated by two weeks, but up to that date it’s a report of your behavior and sensor data after the operation. They seem quite content with the results, given you didn’t show... or rather, they didn’t notice, any signs of abnormal behavior. I suppose your little friend manipulated their sensors?”
Still browsing through the files, Miranda nodded absently. “Ye, and she even used them to build some electronic device of whatever... that girl even dismounted my toaster for no reason but it’s components!”
She suddenly stopped. “Wait a second, according to the file I’m subject #5, not #6...”
Artemis smiled lowly. “You see... nobleman usually aren’t, entirely, stupid. We know we’re spying on each other. In the official, public version, this experiments never happened, shifter’s don’t exist... In the military database, my informant found those ‘Top Secret’ informations. But obviously those are still not the truth, but merely something a nobleman doesn’t mind being found by another one. However, I’ve got reasons to assume, you’re actually #6. And the chance for my assumption to be correct is 98%.”
Artemis reached for his pocket and handed her a small PDA, which triggered as she touched it and started to display something that could probably be a part of a scientific log. She could hear a male, young voice, talking.
“I would dare to say Miranda is a full success. The parasite did reshape her body as instructed and so far did not show any further activity. Her psychical tests are all green and her metabolism is fine as well. A 12% increase in nutrient consumption, but that matches with our exspections... I still hate the fact we had to waste five lives to get to this point though. And”
The video stopped right there. “Did you hear his words?” Artemis asked.
“’we had to waste five lives’. Since I’m still alive, this means there have been five experiments before me.”
“Exactly that.” Artemis nodded with a content smile. “At this point, I started to wonder why the data on Subject #5 had been hidden... Comparing the dates on the experiments, it seems like they perform one of them every, approximately, two years. Between your operation and Subject #4, there is a 4 years gap.
Knowing my assumption confirmed, I started to check through the internet and all databases I could hack into from here, trying to find informations about anything unusual that happened in the time frame the experiments of Subject #5 should have happened.
Do you remember the Cape Metrax incident?”
“Hmmm...” Cape Metrax... that name did ring a bell. “Wasn’t that the launch site the SS Concordia launched from? The spaceshuttle which exploded due to a technical defect shortly after start?”
“Exactly. It’s rare for these sorts of technical defects nowadays. Technology is extremely advanced, I couldn’t find a possible cause for an explosion without any forewarning to either crew or the ground station itself.”
Miranda nodded. “Of course, everyone knows it had been an assasination attempt on Counceller Duke. Who survived by missing his flight to the moon colony, but died one week later in a ‘car accident’.”
“You need to start thinking in the dimensions of nobleman. Do you really think one of them would care for the fate of a random Citizen? The car accident was an accident as far as I can tell. And the shuttle was NOT sabotaged to kill him.” Artemis continued. “The time frame fits perfect, the Cape Metrax incident was somewhen 1 to 16 weeks after the possible time frame for experiment #5.”
“Hmmm... you think it’s related? That seems very vague to me...”
“There are three more things confirming my assumption: First of all, just two days before the shuttle incident, there was a major accident at a chemical factory in the same metropolis as Cape Metrax. The chance for this being a coincedence is less then 4%.
As well, merely hours after the shuttle explosion, one of the GPS satellites orbiting the planet had a severe malfunction, ceasing function and later on disappearing from radar entirely. The official report reads it probably had a defect and then dropped into the earth’s atmosphere, melting on re-entry.
And lastly... two weeks ago, the military lost contact with the MSS Barracuda, one of the patrol ships in the orbit of Neptun. Whilst however the contact died out, the ship is still orbiting the planet. Yesterday, a probe registered engine activity, shortly before ceasing to transmit.”
Miranda was still trying to match all this information together. “And that means...”
Artemis apparently wasn’t intend on waiting for her conclusion, but simply continued talking: “My theory is as following:
There has been a Subject #5, which data was afterwards removed from all entrys, even the top secret ones. Shortly after the experiment, there was an explosion at a ‘chemical factory’, which could most likely be the location of a secret military lab. Then a shuttle en-route to the moon colony exploded for unknown reasons. A sattelite simply disappeared and now the military lost one of it’s spaceships.
My conclusion is, Subject #5 did, for unknown reasons, turn against the military and escape from the facility. In an attempt to hide it’s tracks, the subject attempted to escape to one of the moon colonys. However, the military apparently tracked it, and simply decided to safely dispose of it by blowing up the whole shuttle after it started. Subject #5, however, survived and somehow used the sattelite to escape from earth. And now it seems it overtook the MSS Barracuda. Judging by the engine data, the ship took course to either Earth or Sun. And honestly, I don’t think it’s heading for latter one.”

“Ok... ok... let’s assume you’re right with the whole story of subject #5. Why should it, after successfully escaping from Earth, even more so after it was believed to be dead, granting it a free ticket to start a new life undercover on moon or somewhere, simply come back to Earth. In a military spaceship which will barely go unnoticed?” Miranda asked.
“And that’s exactly the thing I’m worried about. Since Subject #5 violently broke free, it has probably never been permitted to leave the base, which indicates the military didn’t deem it safe enough, opposed to your case. Assuming Subject #5 has an acceptable degree of intelligence, and given it sneaked into a spaceshuttle without mauling everything on sight we can assume it does, there is no logical reason for it to come back to Earth... unless...”
“... to take revenge.”
“Well, at the very least we can assume it’s not going to simply go back into it’s prison. Which implies it intends to fight. And since it’s coming back after these few years, it probably means it got stronger or suchlike during it’s absence. Overall, we... we need to...” Artemis voice suddenly started to get shaky. “we need... overall... we...” He shook his head, as if something was distracting him. Then he fell to the ground.
“Uhm, Artemis?” Miranda cautiously approached. Turning him around, she realized he had apparently fallen unconscious, though his breath was still going regulary. “What the hell did just”
“Sir Wellens!” A male and noticeable old voice yelled and Miranda could hear steps approaching. “Damn it, I told him he was overexerting himself again!” Turning her head, she could see a butler of sorts, in advanced age, rapidly approaching. “Miss, would you please mind helping me, we need to get the young master into the cellar. Fast.”
The word ‘fast’ slightly collided with the patient, calm way he was saying that, but Miranda was already figuring something out for herself. “Sure, I’ll carry him.” Without awaiting any response she simply picked Artemis up as if he would be a child.
If the butler was surprised by her strength, he didn’t show anything, but instead said: “This way, please.”
“I know the way.”

26.
“Is it normal for him to simply break down like that?” Miranda asked, as the butler finally took his eyes of the monitor attached to the machine Artemis had introduced her to before.
“If he doesn’t get his dose or overexerts, yes. I’m not sure when he slept the last time, could be days ago. But as long as he’s conscious, he usually refuses to come down here. He always says he can sleep later.” The butler was visibly displeased with this attitude of his sir.
“But... it’s nothing wrong with him right now, past overexhaustion, right?” Whilst speaking, she tried her best to ignore the low buzzing and mechanic clicking that came from the seat Artemis was laying on, needles and robotic arms whirling all around his upper body.
“First of all, I should introduce myself properly: I’m Dr. Torius Aggerman, I’ve worked with 
Dr. Simon Durwish. After finishing this prototype, I’ve got the task to maintain it and as well serve Sir Wellens Junior, for example because of occurences like these. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re Miranda Lamende, whose name I had to fill in to the countless succession papers...” His voice was kept neutral, but Miranda meant to register that Torius wasn’t exactly glad about that.
“Wasn’t my idea, it was Artemis’ offer. I suppose it’s his way of showing me his trust. Given I could either wait decades to his death or actually kill him right now to still get the whole heritage...” Miranda shook her head. She still wasn’t exactly sure what could make a nobleman go to these extends. Even if there was some sort of monster heading for them, she was sure most baron’s wouldn’t care, but simply continue their life of decadence.
“Hm-hmm... I wasn’t exspecting him to come out with it by himself in first place. Though I’m not sure whether you’re trustworthy enough for me to tell you about it.” The way he said that...
“About what? He already entrusted his life and entire heritage to me, what more of a prove do you need for being able to trust me?”
The butler hesitated for quite a few seconds, before he slowly started. “There’s another reason why he was intent on finding a heir for his company as soon as possible... Sir Wellens... Artemis... isn’t going to live very long anymore.”
“Wait, didn’t you and that Simon guy actually find a way to counteract, though not cure, that strange illness of his?”
“Yes... but even though these nanobots are capable of repairing, regenerating and even enhanching cells... They can only repair a brain that is still functional. However, the AND-Syndrom is dreaded for accelerating the destruction of neurocytes more and more. By now, we figured out there is a point of no return, after which even the nanobots will not be able to repair his brain another time. Artemis is already suffering from memory issues again. It’s only a question of time until his brain will cease in function again. I’m glad we never had to tell this to his father, Sir Wellens Senior died before we noticed the continuing degeneration.”
“That explains...” Miranda simply said. And probably that’s the reason why he had risked his life that willingly, in order to contact her: There wasn’t anything he could lose that wouldn’t be lost in a few years eitherway.
“Torius... you’re... talking too much...” a weak voice mumbled, and both of them turned around to Artemis. The machine had apparently finsihed it’s job and Artemis was about to get up from the seat, one of his hands holding his red-punctured and apparently aching head.”
“Sir, please stay there, you need some rest before you can move SIR!” Artemis was already on his legs, proceeded to stumble off sidewards. If it wouldn’t have been for the nearby wall to cling onto, he would probably have fallen to the ground another time.
“I... I’m fine... I can rest later...” he muttered and though his voice was weak and shaky, as his body, it was yet filled with a determination Miranda hadn’t seen from anyone else before... Well except Don or Martinez, maybe.
Miranda took a few steps towards him. “Artemis... is there any reason why you didn’t tell me about that part of your illness yet?”
“It... it doesn’t matter... and”
“Of course it does!” Miranda scolded him. “Your james said something about overexertion and exhaustion. If this accelerates the degeneration, why aren’t you staying as low as possible?!”
“Why should I... Better to have lived once and short, then long, but without spirit.” His voice was slowly gaining in strength again and he even dared to let go of the supporting wall, doing a few slow, but steady steps. “I can rest when I’m below the soil. Not before that.”
“If it wouldn’t be the case already, I would say something like ‘You’re going to kill yourself’...” Miranda complained. She wasn’t sure what to think of Artemis. At the one said such determination was for sure honorable, as was his intention to use his time to erase the errors of humanity instead of using his abilities to his own advantage... On the other hand it was utterly careless and... illogical, she had to smile at that thought, for him to stress that much. “See, I’m gonna help you now. You stay here, and I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Serves both of us best.”
“0%! Not a chance in hell. I couldn’t stand laying around motionless when I was a kid and I can’t stand it yet either. That’s why I’ve been acting against the other nobleman all across the past years...”
“Wait... that thing with that guy Adamaan wasn’t the only time?”
Artemis smiled lowly. “All nobleman deaths of the past few years are my work. Except for Firenze, Gregorius and Seidnaham. Latter one died in an actual accident, I’m not sure who was responsible for Gregorius and in regards to Firenze... Though I took care to make every single of their deaths look like an accident. Oh, an I’ve been hunting a few of the bigger crime bosses as well. Though usually in other citys, it would be too noticeable if it would have been active here.”
That explained why she hadn’t heard or noticed much of that. “That’s what you meant by overexerting Torius, didn’t you?” Miranda asked towards the butler, who simply nodded silently. “How long, Artemis?”
“Hehe, is Black Salamander, the famous ruthless assassin worrying about someone like me?” he teased with slight amusement.
“No, but I need to figure out whether it’s worth the trouble to actually kill you or simply wait for it to happen by itself.” Miranda responded with a sly grin.
“We can’t tell... it could be anything from days to years. It’s near impossible to make accurate predictions, given noone with the AND-syndrom actually lived as long as I already did... And that’s why I don’t want to waste any single second. As I’ve said:
I can rest when I’m below the soil.”

27.
“OH... MY... GOD! That thing looks amazing! Can I hold it?! Pleeeeeeeeeease!”
Miranda sighed. “No. And if you really are that intelligent, why do you still behavave like a child?!”
Bibi pouted. “Because it’s more fun that way. But I really want to examine that sword!”
To Miranda’s surprised, Artemis did indeed take the metallic, buzzing sheath from his belt and held it out to the small girl. “I don’t need to mention this thing could potentially kill all three of us if you dismount it, do I?”
There was a sly smile running across Bibi’s face. “I figured that much. Microsized versions of reactors aren’t exactly known for being very stable. I’m surprised you can actually carry it around just like that.” Sitting down on the ground, she started to inspect the sheath up close, running her fingers along it. “Oh, cooling chambers and sub-engines integrated into the sheath's frame...”
Miranda set down into one of the armchairs, as did Artemis, before starting: “And why again did you insist on bringing her with me this time?”
“For my next step, her help will be extremely valuable.”
“I strongly disagree with pulling a child” “I’m not a child!” “...a small person into this.” “I’m not small either!” 
Artemis nodded. “I can understand your concerns, but my original plan had a six times as high chance for one of us to die.”
“If you consider the chance of me dieing, whatever your next step is, it must be something suicidal.” Miranda responded with a displeased sigh. She shouldn’t have agreed to this. She really shouldn’t have agreed, but instead just left, ignoring Artemis offer. But here she was, coming back to his mansion voluntaryly, dragging Bibi along, and signing up for a potential suidide mission. She really must have lost her sane logic on the OP table.
“Depends. Our death chance was 7% before, not exactly suicidal if you ask me. But a well Bibi’s help could make our task much, much easier. And raise the chance of success by...”
“Will you just stop with those chances, please! It doesn’t make sense to me to start rating one’s chances beforehand.” Miranda complained. “Either we succeed and it’s fine, or we don’t and won’t have time or breath to complain about it, eitherways.”
“To me, these numbers are extremely valuable. By running simulations of multiple plans and comparing their data, I can evaluate the best possible plan. And I doubt we want to work with anything but that best plan.”
“Come to think of it, I still don’t know what’s this about after all!” Bibi complained, putting the sheated, humming sword back onto the table. “And you promised me a lollipop and a marmelade toast for coming with you!” She pointed her finger at Miranda and started to pout.
“And that’s supposed to be a biological supercomputer? I can see why noone developed a mass-ready version yet...” Artemis said with a light grin.
“Doubting my intelligence! Pff! One, two, four, eight!”
“Sixteen” “Thirtytwo” “Sixtyfour” “Onehundredtwentyeight” “Twohundredfiftysix” “Fivehundredtwelve” “Onethousandtwentyfour” “Twothousand...”
The brabbling of the two genius’ continued for a few minutes until they started talking even before the other one had finished, labelling numbers far beyond what Miranda could consider to be useful at all. “Would you two MAY stop that! It’s giving me a headache.”

Both of them hesitated for a second and then started to smile. “Well, at least he’s smarter then you, that’s for sure.” Bibi mentioned with a smile and sat onto the broad coach. “By the way, Artemis, do you play chess?”
“Not really, it’s too easy. And beating you is probably as impossible as beating me, we would just end up in one draw after another.” Artemis sighed. “But we got better stuff to do, in first place.
To be more precise, we need to obtain more research data from one of the nobleman. And we will do it this way...”

28.
The man in the guard uniform threw another look at the entrance gates of the large villa up ahead. Whispering lowly, he said: “Artemis, are you sure that’s the villa of a baron and not a high security prison or something? It doesn’t look much diffrent...” Indeed, the building rather looked like a state prison: High walls, spotlights, patrols, iron bars in front of most windows, cameras everywhere...
“I can calculate faster then most of the actual super computers, draw conclusions and deduct logic in more dimensions then most scientist even found yet and you doubt whether I can identify the location of a well-known person? That hurts my feelings...” Artemis’ voice responded from somewhere within Miranda’s head. Carrying the receiver headpiece inside of her head was much less visible then putting it into her ear.
“I assume that was your way of saying ‘yes’.” She said with her male voice, again very low, the microphone in her throat recording and transmitting her words regardless of their volume.
She threw the cigarette she had apparently been smoking to the ground, extinguished it with a quick stomp and then casually walked over to the gatehouse.
“Hold it, identify your... Ah, it’s you Hennes.” The guard inside said, before his face relaxed again as he remembered Miranda’s current face to be one of his comrades.
“Nice to see you, too. Mind opening the sideentrance for me, my shift is going to start in twenty minutes.” Miranda responded, watching the other guard as she did so. But apparently the man wasn’t doubting her disguise in the slightest.
“Sure, just need to do the casual security checks, you know...”
Without further instruction necessary, Miranda held her hand through the small hole in the front window of the guardhose. She felt a small sting as the guard took a blood sample, which was quickly analyzed in the handheld device, resulting in a green light. Of course it did, after all she had replaced the DNA of the blood in her right hand with that of the guard who was by now probably still unconscious in his home.
“Carrying anything metallic with you?” he continued with the protocol whilst the scanner at the upper edge of the guardhose started to operate with a buzzing sound.
“Nothing extraordinary.” Miranda responded whilst lifting the right side of her jacket, showing her holstered service pistol to the guard, who was now checking the picture on the screen in front of him.
“Jep, looks all fine.” Miranda had already turned to the sidegate, a small door meant for persons to enter, when the guard suddenly added: “Wait a second... where are the shrapnels?!”
“Hmm?” Miranda turned her head back to him, seeing how he was already reaching for the alert button. “Oh right, noone told you yet, I guess: I have been operated three days ago, that’s why I wasn’t at work the past days. They finally got that damn metal out of my chest.”
The man relaxed again. “Ah, good to know. Must feel a pound lighter now... Well then, have a nice day.”
Miranda nodded and walked to the sidegate, the door just sliding open. Only after the door had closed behind her again, she breathed out in relief. “Damn it Artemis! Our disguise appeared to have some sort of sharpnel remains in his chest, why didn’t we know this?! We’re lucky I’ve had seen the scar before and now managed to figure out a cover-up that quickly...”
“Gah, my heart nearly skipped a beat there. That alarm would have ruined our plan... There was nothing mentioned about shrapnell remains in the medical document though. I couldn’t know that.” she heard him responding.
“Well, whatever... I’m inside now, proceeding with phase two.”

“Sir Gorlim, there’s a video call for you.” a young, female voice announced via the phone system.
The slightly chubby man, his expensive suit decorated with golden insignias, hinting him to be a nobleman, put the PDA down he had been browsing in and pressed a button next to his phone. “I didn’t exspect any calls, who is it? Anyone important?”
“Well...” the voice hesitated. “It’s Wellens Junior, sir.”
Silence remained for a few seconds as Gorlim leant back, his left roaming through his short beard, his eyes staring into the air. It was uncommon for nobleman to contact each other at all. Usually everyone was ignoring those he couldn’t control or bribe... And even more so Wellens Junior? Wasn’t that boy dead or ill or something? “Put him through.”
Turning around in the rotateable armchair, Gorlim watched as the large conference screen emerged from the ceiling, sliding along the wall until it was at eyeheight. The screen flickered for a few seconds, before showing up a young man. Though it wasn’t hard for Gorlim to remember his face.
“Mr. Wellens Junior. Artemis, if I remember correctly?”
“Yes, Mr. Gorlim. How was your day?” Artemis asked with a casual, cheerful voice, whilst leaning back in his armchair.
“I don’t think you’ve just called to exchange some frivolities... What’s the reason?”
Artemis smile left his face. “No need to be that cold, you could at least have asked how my day had been in return... But whatever, of course I wouldn’t waste your time with trivialities. I’m currently doing some investigation on my behalf and I think you could potentially help me with some informations.”
Gorlim’s face remained neutral, except for a single raised eyebrow, hinting curiousity. “Informations in which regard?”
Artemis smile turned sly. “In regards to Project Morpheus.”
“Project Mo-what? That sounds like that French dish I’ve tried yesterday. I can give you the restaurants address if you like to.” The man responded near instantly. However, not instantly enough to hide his nervousity to Artemis.
“Aw, come on, it’s not like we both don’t know anything about it and the experiments.” Artemis continued, gesticulating around.
“I’m sorry Wellens, but I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.” Gorlim answered with an excusing smile. An expression he had long since learned to put up. It was a good face to persuade those useless citizen.
Taking on a more serious tone and even learning forward, Artemis said: “Gorlim, I don’t really have time for these sort of games. We both know what Project Morpheus is and we both now about Subject #5. I would dislike to public the information about illegal experiments, but if you don’t cooperate I won’t really have a choice...”
Silence lasted, before Gorlim answered: “Well, well, well... I’ve read about WelTek’s comeback on the market, as well as Mr. Adamaan’s tragic and entirely unexplainable death... I suppose you’re not the little ill boy I’ve once heard about, are you?”
“I would prefer if you could just answer my questions instead of trying to divert the conversation to a different topic.”
“I see... But if you already know about Project Morpheus and the experiments and even the number of our subjects, what sort of information could you still be looking for? The result data? I’m sorry, there isn’t any, the project was an utter fail and we abandoned it a few months ago.”
Artemis couldn’t but snicker. Nobleman were born liar’s and if wouldn’t be for the information he already had, he couldn’t but have believed Gorlim as he spoke without any twitch. “Stop trying to fool me, I know nearly everything about it, except for a few lacking details and, more importantly, specific information about Subject #5. Name, appearance, abilities, if possible the protocols and logs from before the accident.”
Gorlim’s face darkened visibly. “I already told you, the project was a fail... but if you insist, I can send you the data you requested. Subject #5’s name is Miranda Lamende, currently living somewhere in the cititzen district, I don’t know the exact address, but it should be in her file. As well the logs don’t give much and I don’t know what sort of accident you’re talking about...”
“Damn it, will you finally stop lieing, it’s getting...” Artemis started to act up in anger when he suddenly stopped, reaching for his ear, apparently listening to something. His face brightened up in an instant, before he returned to his running conversation. “Nevermind, Gorlim, I don’t need your help anymore. Good bye.”
The screen went black, leaving only a surprisedly staring baron alone in his room. What the hell? He called, started talking about a Top Secret project of the military branch controlled by Gorlim, dropping classified information all along an insecure line... pushing further and further, apparently knowing everything... and suddenly breaking up the conversation...
That didn’t make any sense... except... Gorlim’s eyes widened and he quickly spun around, reaching for the call button.
His voice nearly turned upside down as he started yelling “SOUND THE ALARM! WE GOT AN INTRUDER SOMEWHERE IN OR NEARBY THE BUILDING WHO POSSIBLY STOLE VALUABLE INFORMATIONS! CATCH HIM, DEAD OR ALIVE!”
Damn that brat! The call had been nothing but a distraction for a spy to steal the information he had just been asked for. But that spy would never escape this building!

Somewhere on the other side of the city, Artemis leant back with a broad smile, watching how the screen showed up the mansion’s blueprint and red dots for all the guards suddenly scrambling and spreading all around.
“Phase two complete... Now it’s Miranda’s turn again.”

29.
Within 13 seconds, two armed bodyguards in black suit had entered Gorlim’s room, ensuring the nobleman’s safety. “I don’t need any guards! Get off and find that damn spy and the damn data!”
“I’m sorry sir, but we’re paid to defend you in person. The security chief thinks this may be just a distraction to assassinate you. We got enough mean searching the entire mansion from basement to roof.” One of the guards responded, already starting to search the room for anything suspicious, as the second one was securing the door.
“Geez... as if that youngster would have the guts to hire someone to kill me... Though he got rid of Adamaan as well... Ok, may this measure isn’t entirely unjustified. But I won’t just sit here silently whilst somebody runs off with my belongings!” Gorlim said, whilst getting up and walking towards the door.
“Sir, please stay inside this room, it’s the one we can protect the easiest. If you start roaming the manor it will be hard to protect you from...”
“Shut up, I’m the boss here and I order you to accompany me. I don’t intend to run through the entire mansion, I just need to check the library.” Gorlim said, pushing aside the second man and rushing through the door.
Quick steps behind him indicated the guards were following him. It didn’t really matter. He strongly doubted this was an assassination attempt. It was more likely that it was either a joke or the attempt to steal information he could be blackmailed with... but why Project Morpheus? There was much more sensitive information laying around in his safe...
Reaching the library, Gorlim quickly entered the access code and the metal doors, hidden below a casual wooden appearance, opened silently. Of course it was strange for a library to be secured like that, but Gorlim had used his own hobby of collecting valuable and old books as an excuse. Indeed a few of his possessions had a seven digit value, but that wasn’t the sole reason for this security.
Whilst the guard secured the entrance, closing it again, the baron went over to one of the shelves and pulled a few of it’s books out, throwing them to the ground carelessy. As he had cleared the specific section of the shelf, he reached inside, pulling off a wooden cover hiding the embedded safe.
Twenty seconds, two access codes only he knew and a couple of rotations on the spinwheel later the reinforced safe opened up... and revealed a large amount of documents laying inside. A quick check later, Gorlim found none of the files missing. A slight hint of relief flooded his body. It probably had just been a joke. Though he hadn’t yet checked the second safe.
Moving over to the opposite site of the room he started clearing another shelf, just in the same manner as before. Trying to hide a sly grin, one of the guards behind him started to move across the room, apparently checking it for bombs or other suspicious elements, before taking position in front of the safe, back to it.
Not visible to either the other guard or the baron, a black, semiliquid mass emerged from the man’s, actually Miranda’s, dresscoat, forming a tendril and slowly worming up along the shelf, before sliding into the safe. An eye formed at the tendrils tip and two more tendrils formed, pushing and pulling the files aside inside of the safe until the eye found what it had been searching for.
Turning into the black mass again, the eye disappeared, as the tendril wrapped around the single document, pulling it from the safe and back into the dresscoat of the guard, where it would disappear into Miranda’s back, hidden from inspection and even more so protected for anything further to happen.

“It seems like everything is here. The thief could may have made a copy of those datapads, but I doubt that. They’re still in the same position as they were when I checked the last time. There’s even dust on the safe’s handle... I think I’ve been fooled.” As relieved as Gorlim’s voice was, it was as well grim and annoyed. “Turn the damn alarm off, I doubt there has ever been any sort of intruder at all.”
“Sir” Miranda started “we can’t be sure of that! May there’s still an assassin lingering around and all this commotion was just the distraction so you would be careless once we return to our normal daywork.”
Gorlim shook his head. “Nah, if there would be someone intent on killing me, it would have happened already.”
“Trust me sir, I’m quite sure there’s an assassin around.” Miranda continued, walking towards the baron who had just closed the safe.
“And why do you think that? I doubt you were trained to think like a potential assassin would and are now trying to predict an enemy’s steps?” He added a snicker. Now that the situation was cleared, he was even relaxed enough to have a conversation he would usually execute his guards for.
“Not exactly, I’m just predicting my own steps.” Miranda responded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the baron asked in confusion.
“Can’t you tell...” it was the wicked tune and the sinister snicker that made him realize the meaning of those words, but he already felt something metallic against his head and an arm wrapping around his throat. “No hasty movements! Your boss is my hostage now!”
“Damn it! How much have you been paid? I double it!” Gorlim said, trying to stay calm, which was hard with a pistol against his head. He prayed the other guard had been trained in dealing with hostage situations properly...
Indeed the other guard obeyed, lowering his weapon and taking a step back. “Ok, ok, I’ve got ya...” Gorlim smiled lowly when he saw the guard’s eyes. They were darting around, trying to find a way to solve the situation. His bodyguard were trained elite, he wouldn’t be a hostage for more then a couple of minutes. Everything was under control.
“I’m not interested in money. Would you mind opening that safe again?” Miranda asked politely, pushing him back to the bookshelf, whilst still positioning him in between her and the other guard. Of course she wasn’t in danger, but she didn’t want to ruin the show.
Reluctantly the baron opened up the second safe and was pushed aside, Miranda quickly grabbing the datapad inside. The radio inside of her head turned on and she could hear Artemis’ voice saying: “That should be all. Nobleman never have many copies of those information they consider even more then top secret. A digital version that survives age, a physical version that survives EMP, we got both now, that should be all.” 
“Ok, I will withdraw then.”
“What did you whisper?” Gorlim asked. “Are you communicating with your complices? Are there more then just you?!” He was suddenly shoved forward, stumbled and then turned around. The thief was still pointing his gun at him, a confident smile on his face.
“I wouldn’t mind leaving just here.” Miranda started. “After all you’re the man I’ve to thank for my new life.”
“My offer still stands. I pay you double if you give that back, put the gun down and reveal the name of your client. Then you can finance an even better new life.” The nobleman offered.
“Oh, it seems you didn’t understand... Or rather” as she continued speaking, her voice changed gradually to her feminine original one “you didn’t realise who I actually am, did you...”
The baron was surprised and confused for a second, before his eye’s suddenly wide. “No! You can’t... Samantha?!” Cold sweat started to form across his face.
Miranda blinked in confusion, before she understood. “Oh, so that’s the name of #5. Close, but wrong. I’m her successor.”
“Subject #6? Miranda? But... you shouldn’t... this...” Gorlim started stuttering. “This... is amazing... please, put that gun down, I will pay any sum! I can get you everything you want! Money, wealth, luxury, power! Everything! If you can really control this... join me and we can erect an army capable of ruling the planet!”
The smile on Miranda’s face widened. “Actually I wouldn’t mind that, sounds like a nice offer...”
Gorlim’s face brigthened up as her gun slowly lowered. A quick gesture of his hand made the other guard lower the pistol, he had just brought up to aim at Miranda. “I’m glad you’re reasonable. This will make things much easier.”
“... but I can’t stand barons like you.
I’m sorry.”

30.
As Artemis opened the door, she was greeted with a question: “Was that really necessary? Not just killing him, but all the toying around and hostage-taking and whatever else... You could just have killed both of them as he has revealed the safe’s.”
Miranda, in her usual black form, smiled. “I could have... but that wouldn’t have been fun.” She reached for her lower body, lifting her shirt and pulling the file which had just emerged from below her ribcage, handing it to Artemis together with a datapad emerging from her palm. “You check these and I get myself something to eat, it’s exhausting to imitate a different shape.”

One hour later, Artemis returned to the lounge where Miranda and Bibi had already been waiting. “... could have done more then just hacking the personal files, overriding the mansion’s security and delaying the police reaction... I thought I would at least mess with an AI or a supercomputer-controlled defense software or something...” Bibi lamented, apparently discussing the past few hours with Miranda.
The shapeshifter was going to answer, but then saw Artemis and, more importantly, the expression of his face. It was utterly grim. “I suspect it’s bad?” she asked.
“Worse. It’s not the worst-case sceneario I had calculated, but it’s close enough.” Artemis responded as he approached and inserted a datachip into the wall-embedded slot, causing the nearby screen to turn on and show the personal file of a woman. “And... there’s a further... complication...”
Miranda examined the photo and... her jaw dropped open. “No... that... that can’t be... she...”
“Subject #6: Samantha... Lamende.” Artemis read from the file.
“But... my sister died during the revolts three years ago... how could she...” The truth slowly became clear to Miranda.
“The file doesn’t state much more then the date of the ‘recruitment’, but as far as I can tell you have been the first person to participate in the experiments voluntaryly. She was probably kidnapped, it’s not like anyone would be surprised over people disappearing from the slums, even less during a revolt.” Artemis completed Miranda’s assumption.
“But... my sister... if she’s not dead...” Miranda swallowed. If her sister was subject #5...
“Miranda... I doubt she’s your sister anymore. I doubt she even remembers your face. Or actually anything of her former life.” Artemis slowly said, laying a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “It may be better if you don’t watch the video logs I’ve found on the datapad, we can...”
“No. I’m fine. I need to know who... what I am up against.” She tried to calm herself. She wasn’t a young girl anymore. By now, she had probably become one of the most feared and ruthless assassins around the entire globe. Killing couldn’t shock her, killing the thing her sister had become shouldn’t pose an issue either.
Artemis hesitated for a few seconds, but then entered a few commands into the PDA he was holding and the screen changed to show the face of a scientist. “Everything is prepared. I’m still bothered by the fact we’re conducting experiments on involuntary subjects, but at least we’re getting them off the streets, even death is a better life then that... I will nontheless advise to recruit volunteers in future, I’m sure this could improve the actual experiment results.
We have modified the control chip once more. It should now be able to seperate or reconnect the shifter and the subject at remote control. Additionally we added a limiter meant to reduce the neural capacity of the shifter. It shouldn’t be able to perform any more complex mutation or transformation. We can later on remove this restriction via access command. Video Log out.”

The screen flickered and then displayed another log. There was a window, through which one could see a young woman bound to an upright seat. The same scientist from before walked into the picture, starting to speak: “So far, all scans indicate no error. We can safely assume subject #5 reached the same stage as subject #4. She didn’t wake up yet, though, and we can’t tell whether we fixed our... misshap with the last experiment...”
Miranda swallowed, remembering what Artemis had told her about the experiment results on subject #4. She knew herself what the parasite would do with one’s mind if left unchecked... She prayed the next video wouldn’t show her sister screaming...
And it didn’t. Instead she was sitting at a table, eating some sort of mash. Still in the isolated room behind the window though. The scientists voice sounded again. “Subject #5 is progressing better then exspected. She is still angered by the fact she was abducted and reacts hostile or fearful to any communication, but there’s no indication for the shifter at all. Well except for her hair color.” It was now when Miranda noticed that Samantha’s originally brown hair was now of a bright green. “Given the intended transformation did occur, I think we can indeed control the shapeshifting abilties of the shapeshifter. Next experiment should contain a more complex transformation then just haircolor, though...”
Miranda gasped when the next video started. “I... I’m Samantha. Samantha Lamende. I’m held captive against my will and if somebody finds this”
“Subject #5, this is a secured military lab, you don’t need to bother. Please proceed as instructed, or he will have to cut down your rations.” A male voice sounded from somewhere.
The face of Miranda’s sister grew slightly darker, but she continued. “I was instructed to start a video diary. It appears I have been abducted by the military and are now subject to some strange experiments. There are scars on my chest and they actually dyed my hair green. I’ve got no clue what sort of perverted, crazy asshole...”
The diary entry cut off and was replaced by another. “Day 17, I’m still stuck in this rotting hole of a lab. I would actually start to like those docs, if they would just stop to threat me like some sort of guinea pig. Blood test here, intelligence test there, and a physical test just around the corner. If I ever get out of here, I will sue the crap out of whoever is responsible for this... And then I will use that money to hire an assassin or something. The bastard behind all this is probably a damn jackass of a baron...”
“Don’t worry, sis... I’ve taken care of him...” Miranda smiled weakly. It was strangely soothing to see the usual, unyielding attitude of her sister. The reason why she had been with every revolt, with every opportunity to stand up against the system...
“Day 19... or 20... I’m not sure... I’ve been unconscious. I remember they said something about trying something new. It appears my hair is now of a dark pink. Seriously?! Do they just pump me full of sedatives to piss me off by dying my hairs? This is utterly redicolous bullshit...
Though... I feel different. Just something... I don’t know what exactly... I’m worried. I don’t know what’s going on and what this is all about... I’ve considered suicide, but they are careful enough not to let that happen. Otherwise I wouldn’t mention it to this log eitherway...”
This time, the next video log was the scientist again, standing in front of the window. “There have been complications with the last series of experiments. Subject #5 has fallen into a coma and we’re not entirely sure as to why. Her neural activity is unnaturally high, similar to an intense dream or something similar. We have double-checked the limiters and they’re all still in place and active. May it’s something related to the time spent here? I cannot tell yet.”
The screen paused. “Do you really want to see more? We should at least get Bibi out of here, I don’t think” Artemis started, but was quickly interrupted.
“Stop treating me like a child, damn it!” Bibi complained, poutingly. “I’m already mature in mind and just because this body is unsuitably small it doesn’t mean anything in regards to my mental age!”
Miranda nodded ever so weakly, saying: “It’s her choice. And I’m fine as well.” She could hear how her own voice was heavy and tense. “Go on, Artemis...”

31.
“Please, let me out! I’m getting sick and tired of seeing this cell again and again, every day!” Samantha yelled, hammering against the door to her cell, the video apparently being recorded by a camera near the ceiling. “Seriously, I won’t run away or stuff like that! You can even send escorts with me if you like. Just let me out of here for once and I will cooperate. I just... just... want to see my little sister again... she must be worrying... Please, show some heart!” As no response came, Samantha decided to kick against the door and started to moan in pain, limbing back to the small bed, rubbing her foot. “This is utter bullshit... How do you guys even want to figure something our about me if you don’t even seek my cooperation...”
“I’m sorry, Subject #5.” a voice finally answered, apparently from a speaker. “But strict orders are in place not to let you out of your cell. I know it must be hard, but please, bear with it, for the sake of humanity. These experiments could be the next step of mankings evolution.”
“Ye, sure... and that’s why those totally legal experiments are conducted in some hidden base on abducted woman. Either let me out of here or get lost!” She jumped back up from the bed and started to roam through the cell like a tiger through his cage. “What the hell could be your reason for doing this to me?! In all honesty, this is just bullshit!” She was getting louder. “If I get our of here, somewhen, you will be sorry for...”
Suddenly, she stopped moving. Remaining motionless for a few seconds, she suddenly sat down, on the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs and curling up. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star...”
The screen switched to a different log, this time showing the scientist again. “Subject #5 is more and more showing signs of mental instabilitiy. We have added a psychologist to the team, he formulated the theory it could be an effect of the permanent isolation, since she didn’t have any direct contact to anyone for a few weeks now. He advised against keeping her locked up, or we could otherwise inflict lasting damage to her psyche.
I’m not sure how to proceed... I doubt it’s a trick of her... but what if... it is taking over? It shouldn’t be possible, but that was the same thing we thought when conducting the first experiment... We will discuss our further approaches in tomorrow’s meeting.”
Now it was a security log again. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” A loud ‘whomp’ sounded as Samantha threw herself against one of the windows. “I... I... I... I can’t stay here... any longer... please... just...” Stumbling through her cell, Miranda could see her sister crying. Then she started to scream and continued hammering against the windows.
The door to the cell opened and a group of people rushed inside. Two men, probably guards, quickly pulled her to the ground, before a third person, a scientist approached, with an injector. “Hold her still, I can’t inject the sedatives everywhere!” the man in white ordered and the guards tried her best to hold the squirming and occasionally screaming Samantha in place.
As the scientist was about to plant the injector on Samantha’s right arm, suddenly one of the men screamed and jumped off her, a strain of blood splashing through the air: A spike, maybe a bone, was emergin from her arm, right where he had held her down. Now the guard was standing a metre off, holding his heavyly bleeding hand.
“What in the name off...” he stared at her arm in disbelief as the bone disappeared into her skin again, leaving nothing but a red spot and some drips of blood. 
“Quick, get off her. I don’t think this is ru” A loud gourgle sounded and the scientist fell to the ground, holding his throat. Within seconds the sound of ripping flesh and skin sounded again and again, the second guard twitching as dozens of spikes ripped through his upper body.
“CODE RED, CODE RED!” The remaining guard started yelling, dashing for the door... which closed...”WHAT?! LET ME OUT OF HERE!” he started hammering against the door, spreading blood across it’s surface.
“I’m sorry, but we cannot risk the escape of subject #5. Hit the killswitch.”

The next thing that filled the screen was an inferno of flames, accompanied by two pained screams, one male and one female, both of them falling silent after a few seconds. Then the video started to flicker as the flames reached the camera and it went black.
“There... there is one last one...” Artemis lowly mumbled, trying his best not to be affected by Miranda’s tear filled face.
“A failure, in the end...” the scientist said, standing in front of the smut-covered window. “But we made noticeable progress, compared to subject #4. After all subject #5’s lifetime nearly exceeded one month. Maybe we just tried to enforce to much progress in a too short time span. As well, I will consider the advices of the psychologist, we should avoid to use abducted subjects. May we can invent a cover-up story for these experiments or something. I imagine the subjects would be much more useful if they cooperate freely... may we could introduce this as an experimental method for the creation of anims... or we can try...”
Miranda had already stopped listening to the scientist seconds ago. Her view was focussed on the red, fleshy hand emerging in the background, laying against the window. Even though it was in the background, she saw how the skin of the hand slowly started to regrow. And as it did, smoke started to rise from the window’s surface.
The scientist was still unknowing of his impeding death and was still continuing with his suggestions about the next experiment as more of the glass simply molt away until the hand could pass through it.
“Free... we are finally... free...” a weak, smoky voice murmured in the background.
The scientist spun around and yelled: “OH MY GOD, WHAT IS” For one second, Miranda could see how the hand reshaped into a black, thin object, then blood splashed, the scientist was thrown backwards at the camera and the screen went blank.
“This... this... was the last log of Subject #5. All later entries are regarding you... “ Artemis said, low enough to be barely more then a whisper. “Are you ok, Miranda?”
She didn’t respond instantly. “My sister, she... it... seems to have my abilities... shaping parts of it’s body... even producing chemicals like acid... If we assume it possesses all my abilities...”
“And you heard the last words... it was saying ‘we’... I’m sorry, Miranda... but I don’t think your sister”
“I understand.” Miranda straightened up. “I can deal with it. She died long ago, I’ve overcome that already. Nontheless, we need to take care of... of... Subject #5.”

32.
Rain. It was raining. Well, though it fit her current mood, she still hated the city government for actually adding artificial rain to the weather simulation. But since she hadn’t brought an umbrella with her, there was no other option for ‘Blacky’ but to simply walk the last few hundred meters to the club. At the very least she wouldn’t need to worry about a catching a cold.
Miranda walked to the side entrance of the, still closed, club and pulled a keycard from her pocket, opening the door and stepping inside. It was awfully quiet right now, compared to the times where the club was filled to the brim. But the public still had to wait, the “Three Eyes” would open in two hours, not earlier.
“Blacky’s home, somebody here?” Miranda jelled. To her surprise there was no response. She would, at the very least, have exspected to see Maximilian here. He would always be the first one to appear and the last one to leave, after all he was taking his ‘buisness’ quite serious.
Miranda was about to consider this emptyness a result of her early arrival, two hours earlier then usually, given she wouldn’t be paid for extra hours... when a cold chill ran across her spine. This just didn’t feel right. “Maximilian? Anyone?”
A single thought and her ears perked up, adding several layers of sensititvity and even highfrequency to them. To her, the silence was finally broken. “...target. Firing in three, two, one...” BAM “Hit.” and her world went black.
At least for the first few seconds after something had ripped through the brain located in her head. Just what the hell... Miranda quickly started liquifying countless nutrient storages she had started to accumulate all across her body. Hearth and lung ceased in function, she let the blood freely flow from her head, whilst continuing to listen for her surroundings.
“Clean shot, target eliminated.” “Be careful, nontheless. Subject #6 is the prime suspect for the Lambarda Incident, she may be still dangerous even post-mortum.” “Roger that, we will wait for the chemical cleanup team to secure her corpse.”
This was bad. If they already labelled her subject #6, they had figured out her real identity behind that of ‘Blacky’ and as well were aware of her ability to shapeshift, though she couldn’t tell to which degree. At the very least they believed her dead, though.
Damn, Artemis had been right. After Gurlim’s death and the loss of the data on ‘Project Morpheus’, he had said, there could be the chance the military would attempt to investigate her. ‘A low chance, less then 6%, I doubt we got to worry about that’. My ass, he and his damned chances... Probably she has been careless and... distracted... if somebody would have been following her along the way from apartment to this club and even saw her transform... Damn it! Why did Artemis insist on her returning to her usual life for the time being?! She could have assisted him in gathering further informations. Was he doubting her mental stability? Just because of... Samantha...
“Approaching the corpse, subject seems to be neutralized. Actually I doubt anything could survive a hit of that calibre to a vital zone. I will proceed taking a bloodtest to check the DNA.”
“Don’t bother, if she can transform her body, she can eventually manipulate her DNA as well. The testresult would be without any weight.”
By now, Miranda had added motion sensors to all her limbs, on the lower side, hidden from any view. Using those, she had already determined the presence of three other persons in the room, from which one was, slowly, approaching her.
What was she supposed to do now? Attack them and break free? Possible. She could grab Bibi and simply hide in Artemis mansion. She doubted the military was going to hunt her inside of a nobleman’s territory... Alternatively, she could simply play dead and eventually even gather intel on whatever lab they were going to send her into. Though she wasn’t going to be able to keep up this state much longer then a few hours...
“I surrender!” Her voice was grotesque and mistuned, which wasn’t surprising, given half of her head was missing. She would have smiled at the sudden commotion all around, people stumbling off her, countless weapons in proximity clicking and being desecured.
“Target not neutralized, I repeat, target not neutralized, code yellow, stay on alert! Evacuate all civilians in a radius of three blocks, we cannot have”
“Don’t worry, that won’t be necessary.” Miranda said, her voice now more clear as her lower head started to regenerate. “I won’t be any trouble. If you stop shooting at me, that is.”
“Did... can she... radio silence, target is capable of overwatching our communication!”
“Will you shoot me a second time if I get up? I would prefer a sitting position over laying in my own blood.” The shapeshifter continued. Now she could be assured everything she said was already being recorded, otherwise the commander or whoever had been giving the orders via radio wouldn’t have reacted like this.
There was no answer, but the sound of vehicle engines and running people. “Just use the radio, I can hear you. I offered a surrender, what else do you want?”
“Uhm... am I speaking to subje... Miranda Lamende.”
“No, I’m emperor Zord from planet Nebulon.” For a second Miranda was tempted to just leave the statement like that, but then she added. “Obviously a joke. I’m Miranda Lamende, because if I wouldn’t, all three men of your chemical team would be dead already. Along with the five men backup in the room next door. I hope you didn’t hurt any of this club’s personal, they’re uninvolved civilians.”
“You... uhm... that... we...”
“I know this is new to you, but I’m neither being controlled by the shifter nor intending to go on a massacre killing spree. Well, unless you intend to put more bullets into me, I could consider disliking that.” Miranda continued. “I will get up now, tell your sniper not to overreact or this could get a bloody affair.”
She did as she had said and sat up, letting her head rotate in her neck as she slowly let her brain, nerves, eyes, nose, face regrow, a process that took well over a dozen seconds. And there was no second shot being fired. “Ah, thank you very much.” Miranda slowly stood up, reorienting and readjusting her eyes to the light, before she could spot a set of three men, all suited up in hazard suits, on the opposite side of the room.
“Don’t move!” the voice commander over radio. “And raise your hands behind your head! You’re arrested due to violation of military contracts, abuse of military equipment and research, as well as murder in multiple cases, exspecially the murder of Sir Gorlim and, yet unconfirmed, of Sir Firenze.”
“Ok, first of all, could somebody hand me a radio? That would be more convenient. Second, am I supposed not to move OR to raise my hands, you weren’t clear on that. And third, is using my own body an abuse of military equipment? Geez, what do you think I am, your property?” Miranda complained.
“Stop messing with me! We got multiple snipers, two squads of special forces and military vehicles surrounding the building. You’re our prisoner now!”
“Geez, you’re stiff...” A gesture of her arm and said arm elongated, shooting forward, busting through a nearby wall. Screams sounded, but Miranda’s arm merely ripped a reserve radio of one of the soldiers in the other room and pulled it towards her, utterly ignoring the fact she was shot three times in the process. Bringing the radio up to her disfigured and hole’d head, she continued: “And seriously, if you shoot me one more time I’m going to pay you a visit and kick your ass back into whereever you came from.”
“Quick, switch to HEAT rounds, high calibre, and get one of the armored carriers over to the club’s mainroom, target is resistant to normal gunfire.” An engine roared up and Miranda heard something heading for the club. Something heavy.
“Oh, hell... everyone stop moving or I will execute everyone in the building!” Miranda ordered and the noise of sudden brakes sounded. “You seriously do not want to run a vehicle through the wall into this club or Maximilian will literally rip you apart, he loves his club!”
“Get me a psychologist. And the artillery department. We got a hostage situation!”
Miranda, her head reconstructed already, facepalmed and sighed. “Oh geez, why does the military command consist of utter retards. I actually hoped I could arrange some sort of cooperation, after all we’re both on the same side in regards to eliminating Subject #5.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Subject #5 was ter... uhm... died in an lab accident.” the military officer attempted to assure her.
“Ok, one last chance: Either you cooperate with me, or you can say goodbye to all military inside of this building, every single soldier and vehicle in two blocks radius AND your eyes, because I’m personally going to pay you a visit and rip them out. You’ve already seen what I’m capable of, so either let’s start this the right way or not at all!”
Except for the whimpering men of the chemical team, there was utter silence for a few seconds, before “Ok. What are your conditions?”

33.
Hah, this was simply glorious. Miranda was sitting in the back of a large Van, two soldiers eyeing her, sweat all over the faces. Of course their guns were loaded and vaguely pointing towards her, even in their resting position, but those two probably knew that even four sniper bullets, two of them through her head, wouldn’t be enough to kill her.
“Say...” The soldier she adressed twitched and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he would have died of fear, right there. “... is the military actually paying well? I mean, to special forces and suchlike?”
“Uhm... I.... I... I d-don’t think... I’m permitted to s-speak about that...” the soldier stuttered.
“Not permitted to talk about your own financial regards? Damn, they’re taking secrecy too serious...” Miranda continued casually, leaning back in the sort of uncomfortable seat. Not surprising, after all this was a military vehicle. “Can any of you tell me where we’re actually heading? This is getting boring and if we aren’t there soon I will have to look for something to spend my time on...”
The two faces grew more and more pale by the second, each of them probably imagining what a crazed, psychopatic mutant chick could possibly spend her time on, left alone with two soldiers in the sealed back of a van. Miranda’s devilish smile didn’t help those imaginations either.
To Miranda’s disappointment and probably the two soldier’s relief, the van stopped right then and the sidedoor was pulled open. “We’re there, please leave the van.” A voice from outside said.
Without hesitation, Miranda moved past the two guards and through the door of the van... To her surprise there was even a red carpet waiting for her. With an amused smile she stepped onto it and walked forward, approaching the other side of the quite large hall. She was either inside a large building or underground, probably a military base.
“Stop there, please. We have placed a G-78 directional incendiary charge below the carpet you’re standing on. If you try to move off, it will be your death.” The man speaking was clearly different from the officer Miranda had talked with earlier, across radio. This voice was older, more solid and even without much knowledge she could tell this person was much higher ranking, his left chest and the shoulders full of gold, insignias and medals. The authority and confidence in his voice was reinforced by the old and yet fiercely grim grinning face.
“Again this stuff?” Miranda sighed. “Do you really think you can force me to cooperate by force?”
The man smiled grimly. “Well, I definitely hope this sort of threat could stop you. Because if a massive, directed explosion right below your feet doesn’t kill you, we don’t have any other option. Except, maybe, to nuke the whole city and I would actually prefer not to die for the honorable course of protecting the world in military duty.”
With a sly smile, Miranda registered that the man himself was holding a remote, his finger just above the big red button that couldn’t mean anything but some nice firework. “Well, you’re free to try finding it out. As I’ve said, I won’t have myself forced to cooperation.” Without further words, she started progressing towards the man.
Of course her body had, internally, started to change drastically, solifying multiple layers of super-dense metal around a brain core in her rigth chest. As much as it was fun to bluff, she wasn’t going to survive an explosion below her feet without sufficient preparation. As she had exspected however, there was no sudden twitch of the male’s finger and nothing exploded below her feet.
Smiling, she said: “Right choice. I’m Miranda Lamende, who am I dealing with?” She offered him her outstretched right and to her surprise and probably the shock of the surrounding soldiers, the man returned her handshake... without melting, being disfigured or eaten alive.
“General Owarez, in command of the local special forces and responsible for the security of Project Morpheus.”
“So you’re the guy who caused this mess by letting my sister escape... Well, can’t be undone now. Could we may move on into a more comfortable surrounding, I dislike large empty halls as much as I dislike sweaty soldiers pointing guns at me.”
“I’ve already broken so many protocols today... I doubt anyone will bother if I ignore a few more... after what I’ve read anyone in proximity of you could effectively be your hostage in first place... do I even have a choice?”
Miranda didn’t answer directly, but merely responded: “I like the way you think...”

A few minutes later, Miranda was sitting on one side of a large conference table. General Owarez was sitting at the other end, accompanied by a few officers and one civilian, who’s coat pretty much gave him away as scientist. And then there were two guards at the door, but for once Miranda wasn’t sure whether they were here because of her or to ensure the secrecy of the meeting.
“So... Miss Lamende... you were talking about cooperation earlier?” the general started.
“Yes. However, before I consider helping you, I would like to ask a few... or even many questions.” She continued.
“I’m fine with that, though please keep in mind I’m just a commoner of the military... I’m not the head of the chain of command and by far don’t know everything going on around here...”
“Tell me what you know about me.”
One of the other officer’s answered instead, opening a file in front of him. “You’re Miranda Lamende, born in the northern district on the”
“Jeje, skip that casual stuff, you know what I was actually asking for.”
“... Ok. We suspect Subject #6, you, to have obtained abilities in regards to shapeshifting, according to the security logs of multiple sources. We determined you are able to change your appearance and are... hard to kill.”
“That sounds amusing, please read the line again, this time straight from the file.”
The officer was visibly uncomfortable, but complied. “As of now, there is no known way to halt or terminate Subject #6, maximum alert is to be given in case of spotting.” Miranda snickered and gestured him to continue. “The relationship between Subject #6 and the parasite inside of her body is unknown. It’s very likely that Subject #6 is responsible for a series of lethal incidents, beginning with he Lambarda massacre and followed by the deaths of two nobleman. As well there’s the, yet to be proven, assumption that Subject #6 could be the underground assassin ‘Black Salamander’.”
“That’s all?” The man nodded and Miranda chuckled lowly. “Hmmm, not bad at all... Ok, next question: What can you tell me about a girl calling herself... uh... what was it like... BMCU or something along those lines?”
The general groaned. “Oh, god... please don’t tell me you’re involved into that as well?”
Miranda simple snickered with an amused smile. “Maybe?”
“I’ll be blunt Miss Lamende... By any law and protocol applyable, I’m supposed to shoot you. And then I’m probably supposed to patch you back up and execute you a few dozen more times for the crimes you have comitted.”
“Well, you can still try... But I would much rather like you to answer my question.” 
“I can only tell you we were tasked to search for a girl, which was labelled as ‘prototype GMCU’. We were neither told about her purpose nor about the project she belongs to, we merely got some photos and the confirmation that she posesses no abilities which could endanger our troops in direct combat. I can request additional data from my superiors, but that could take some time and I’m not sure whether...”

“Tell your superiors she’s dead. I’ve killed her. And may I add she would probably have killed every common soldier you could have sent after her...” Miranda smiled confidently. At least her abilities granted her the complete control of her facial features and blood pressure. The perfect liar. This would ensure Bibi was safe. Well, at least for now.
The general started to massage his forehead. “This is not making it any easier.”
“I know, but when something is actually easy?” Miranda responded. “Next: I want all information about the MSS Barracuda.”
“Did you get all these informations just from Sir Gorlim?” Miranda didn’t answer and the general continued. “The MSS Barracuda is a military patrol ship intended to patrol the outer ring of our solar system in search for extraterrestial activity and potentially dangerous stellar bodies.”
Given Miranda’s blunt stare, he quickly realized she wanted to know more then just that. “Ok, ok... As well, we lost contact to the MSS Barracuda a couple of days ago. First only the contact broke up, then we... uhm... lost the ship... as well.”
“The military is really great. It even manags to lose huge spaceships, you got my full admiration.” Miranda commented sarcastically. “But seriously, how do you lose track of a thing like that?”
“The MSS Barracuda... is a prototype of a new stealth cruiser. Once the stealth system is active, it’s near impossible to detect it my any sort of sensor. And finding a spaceship by optical means in the width of space...”
“That’s the first new information I’ve heard from you... How powerful is that stealth system? Could the Barracuda sneak upon another ship or even land on Earth without any sensory system noticing it?” This was bad. If the ship could be everywhere, it could already be too late to...
“No. As I’ve said, optical measures can still identify the ship. We’re positive it’s not in proximity to Earth or Moon or any of the other patrol ships in that regard. And it cannot reenter the atmosphere without our observatorys noticing.”
Miranda relaxed, for the time being. “That’s good. It means Samantha couldn’t possibly ambush a metropolis or a moon colony... I mean... Subject #5.”
There was a murmurring amongst the officers. “Miss Lamende...” one of them started. “There is no evidence to Subject #5 being the cause of the MSS Barracuda malfunction. So far, we assume it’s either a technical defect, a terroristical act or a mutiny.”
Miranda frowned. “Well then, time to share my information with you: Surprise, Subject #5 is the cause of the MSS Barracuda’s disappearance. After your failed attempt to blow her up together with a few hundred innocent citizen, she took control over one of your sattelites and used it to escape into space. At some point she infiltrated the Barracuda and is now in control of the ship. I have a reliable source of information confirming all this. As well, this source suggest the Barracuda could have plotted a course to Earth. The last part is only speculation though.
Regarding Subject #5, I can only advise you to assume she has the same degree of capabilities as me, including horrific offensive capabilities, shapeshifting, perfect disguises and as well near-invulnerability. And don’t assume something like the vacuum of space would have finished her off.”
All eyes were directed at Miranda, some in shock, some in disbelief and some in nervousity. “You don’t have a reason to lie to us, do you?” Owarez asked, slowly.
“Your goal is to correct your little mistake regarding her survival, my goal is ensuring the survival of humanity by killing her. That should be enough of an answer.” Miranda responded. At least in theory... maybe she could still... just maybe...

 “If the military would agree to support you with all necessary means... what would happen after Subject #5 is dead?”
Miranda knew the point behind this question. “You will have to believe me, if I say I’m going to continue my normal life. Well, maybe not exactly the same as before, but I’m not going to make too much trouble. Not to the common people at least.” A devillish grin ran across her face.
“Lamende... we both agree that Subject #5 and it’s abilities are a threat to mankind... but after she’s dead... same applies to Subject #6.
You.”

34.
“Yes.” Miranda agreed, leaning back. “But you already tried to kill me and failed. And would I possibly walk into a military base without any afterthought if I wouldn’t be sure you have nothing to actually kill me? Injure yes. Annoy for sure. Kill... not really...” Of course this was a bluff. After all she wasn’t immortal.
“That’s why my staff and I, developed a series of possible options we could use to ensure the safety of mankind in regards to you. Option #1 would be the obvious choice to take someone you value as a hostage. Preferably multiple persons, which were to be spread all across the globe. But...”
“... as you already know my family is dead and I don’t have any personal contacts either. Well, I’m quite good with a few girls in the nightclub, but not as far as to have myself enslaved because of them.” Miranda completed his sentence.
“And additionally, this option is only avaible if we were able to ensure you are actually Miranda and not the shifter. Trivially it wouldn’t really bother with hostages.” Owarez continued. “Then we have Option #2: The removal of the parasite from your body. Assuming you are not controlled by it, you could agree to our proposal to remove the parasite from your body. We could then implant a new, or the same one, with additional regulators which would not limit your abilities, but give us the control to shut them down at wish.”
“Ok, even assuming I’m not a crazed alien monster, do you really think I would permit you to implant such a killswitch into me? And as well it’s not possible to remove the parasite, you could say we have fully merged. Hmm, that sounds wrong... Let’s say I have absorbed him. Even on molecular level, you can’t remove him from my body.”
If the general was getting nervous, his body wasn’t showing it yet. “I didn’t exspect you to agree in first place. However, we have as well prepared an Option #3, an offer you wouldn’t deny, neither as Miranda nor as shifter: We grant you C-18.”
Miranda frowned. “What exactly do you mean by that? C-18 is this entire metropolis, what exactly do you want to grant me? Some sort of mayor position? Military command?”
“All. The entire metropolis. Officially, nothing changes, but the military will stop all operations targeting you and you got free hand to proceed in whatever way you desire. Continue you everyday life, kill all nobleman, become empress, make this an alien hive. We do not set any limits... but the fact you need to stay inside of the metropolis’ dome. You will have to carry a sensor inside of your body, and if the GPS signal ever leaves the dome, we will have a series of nuclear warheads detonate, eradicating C-18 and hopefully you as well.”
Miranda smiled weakly. “Ok, I’ve got it, you only had those two options. I’m sorry, but even if you start making pretty jokes I will not agree to be dissected or something. Neither of those two options works.”
“This wasn’t a joke.” The general stated supporting his chin with both arms, ellbows resting on the table. “The entire staff agrees, that such an offer would guarantuee us the security of manking, in exchange for the control of one single metropolis. An acceptable price. If you’re Miranda, the offer will grant you everything you could wish for. If you’re a shifter, you can create a hive without any intervention from our side. Since reproduction is the shifter’s only goal, it would be granted.”
“You can’t be serious! The barons would never permit such a thing!” Miranda yelled.
“They don’t know. I’m one of the five highest ranking military officers of the planet, Miss Lamende. As such, I do have the authority to make this offer. Even if the military of the noblemen outweights the official military, a single one, or a few of them cannot compete with the global military network. If we decide that a metropolis must be sacrificed, the other nobleman will agree and those inside of the city don’t have the power to resist.
The offer is valid.”

“God, nowadays the entire humanity must have gone insane... First I’m offered to inherit a giant corporation and now I’m offered a whole metropolis... Either I’m having a quite long and really strange dream... or mankind is really that close to extinction.” Miranda concluded, still closely eyeing the general and his staff. It really didn’t seem like they would be lying.
One of the younger officers spoke up: “Simply consider our situation. We have a threat we cannot even detect, with a strength unpredictable and most likely enough to cause vast havoc or genocide to earth. And we’re forced to cooperate with a being that can as well do this. As the military, it is our duty to ensure the survival of as many humans as possible... regardless of the price. And actually I pray we will have to pay that price, because if we don’t, it would mean you couldn’t eliminate subject #5.”
“Right...” Miranda leant back and stared at the ceiling. This was insane. But the military wasn’t just willing to cooperate, it was even going to ‘pay’ her well for a thing she was going to do eitherway. Of course, she would be limited to the city for the rest of her life... or rather until she found a way to either disable the bombs or the sensors... but seriously, what more could she ask for? With her abilities she could indeed control the entire metropolis, the one or other way. She would achieve a degree of power beyond that of any nobleman.
All assuming she would succeed in killing Sub... her sister. Samantha... did you really succumb to the thing inside of you? Or are you acting on your own behalf...
“What exactly is my part of the deal. Am I supposed to eliminate Subject #5? Or the threat originating from it?” Miranda asked.
“Former one. I know she once was your sister, but we are quite confident to assume the body of Subject #5 is fully controlled by the shifter. There is no possibility of containing it, other then sending you to take it down.” the general answered.
“I see...” Miranda continued staring to the ceiling. As if! If her sister was still in posession of her mind, and she could actually be talked into it, Miranda would somehow manage to get her into the city unseen. And after that part, it would be a piece of cake. She could join Miranda’s hive... uhm... family.
Miranda realized what she had just thought... May the line between herself and the shifter wasn’t actually as clear as she would have wanted to believe. It’s abilities had become her abilities, it’s thoughts had become hers. She needed to be careful.
“Your decision?” Owarez asked.
“Uhm, isn’t it obvious? Anyone who can think straight wouldn’t dare to refuse such an offer and I will neither.” She looked back at the men on the other end of the table. “It’s a deal: I kill Subject #5 and in return I will be granted full and eternal immunity from all military actions, within City 18.
And now let’s plan our space mutant hunt.”

35.
“No! I will not just sit here and watch you two becoming heros! I will”
“stay here!” Miranda said again. “Bibi, you’re not a kid, think about it for the second: You cannot help us up there. You would be a hindrance. The ability to control machines will not help us in a fight against an organic being.”
Bibi opened her mouth, but apparently couldn’t find anything to argue with and simply pouted. “I’m always being left behind, pah... But I see your point... and I will help from here, at the very least.”
Artemis chuckled. “No objection there. After all we still need to actually find the Barracuda... I’m still surprised by the military’s reaction... and even more so how you managed to pull that sort of deal off.. it’s ridicolous...”
“Sir.” Torius had entered the room. “A military vehicle arrived in front of the mansion and I have been told they’re meant to pick you up. May I ask how long you will be gone, if at all?”
Artemis walked over to his butler. “Not very long I hope.” He laid a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “And in case it takes slightly longer, I know my corporation in good hands. And in worst case... you know what to do.”
“I fully understand sir. If I may advise, try not to get killed, wherever you’re actually going. Oh, and did you take another in...”
“Yes, I did, mere hours ago. I’ll be fine.” Artemis interrupted him. “See ya, Torius.” With a much less formal good bye then Miranda would have exspected of him, the nobleman left the room, towards the large entrance hall.
The butler turned to Miranda. “I don’t like this, Miss Lamende. But I think I cannot protect Sir Wellens Junior forever... Please keep an eye on him whilst I’m not in reach, he seems incredible nervous.”
Miranda couldn’t suppress an amused snicker. “Artemis? Nervous? Never... but...” she walked over to the butler and pulled a sealed letter from a pouch. “I decided I should, just in case something would be to happen, write my last will beforehand. Given I’m the heir to an oversized corporation... I figured you would be the best person to give it to. You seem to be honest.”
“Of course, Miss Lamende.” He took the letter and instantly made his way over to the lounge safe, not speaking up until the envelope was safely resting inside. “Was a pleasure to have made your aquaintance.”
“Same to me. Oh and Artemis did inform you to grant Bibi access to anything she asks for?” Miranda asked.
“Yes, though I really doubt it’s the right way to educate a child. On the other hand, I’ve never seen somebody beating Artemis at chess, so she may isn’t as casual as her appearance may indicates.”
“Oh, he gave in and played a round and even lost?”
“Yes, though I can’t tell whether he lost by accident or intentionally...”
Miranda smiled. “Fits to him... Farewell Mr. Torius.” She then turned around and squatted down to eye height with Bibi. “And you stay here. Do whatever you want, but don’t try to follow us or some similar stupidity... And after we’re back, I’m sure you can take over the scientific department of WelTek.”
“Don’t try to cheer me up like that, Miranda... Artemis did tell me about your survival chances as well. We shouldn’t let this parting end like in a random cliche movie. I will be able to take care of myself if you two don’t come back, the one or other way. After all the military has stopped searching for me...”
Miranda simply nodded. “No cliches, ok. Then I’ll make it short: see ya, Bibi.” She turned around and left the room. And once again she was glad she could eliminate unnecessary features of her body at will... for example her glands...

“Incredible... who the hell is that guy?!” one of the communication officers exclaimed. “This is unbelieveable... just one single day?”
Artemis smiled. “I did exspect nothing less from my special friend. I knew, if somebody can take control of all telescopes and sattelites of this planet, using them to perform a massive optical scan of the entire solar system, it would be him. Or rather her.”
“That hacker is a woman? Damn, she must be a hell of a hot chick...” the officer continued.
“Why do you instantly put intelligence and beauty together? Wouldn’t it be more logical to assume she’s some fat girl in some cellar who doesn’t do anything but hack systems all across her day?” Artemis chuckled at the man’s face.
“There it is... the MSS Barracuda... Hiding in the asteroid belt just behind the Mars.” Miranda said, staring at the screen, which was showing a picture taken by one of the sattelite telescopes, just mere minutes ago.
“Just between you and me...” a low voice asked next to her. It was General Owarez. “This supreme hacker wouldn’t eventually be a small girl? Don’t worry, I never really approved of those experiments, I won’t tell anyone.” Hmm... Miranda decided to wait for the time being. But when she came back, she would probably have to take measures if a military general was aware of Bibi still being alive.
“Is the ship ready?” Artemis asked to the back of the control room.
One of the officers sitting there answered: “Not yet, probably a few more hours. The MSS Protector wasn’t supposed to start before December. We’re currently filling the liquid booster fuel and installing the additional optical sensors, as requested. I would honestly recommend waiting the few days it takes to install the weapon systems though...”
“As if a small scout frigate would be capable of taking on a cruiser like the MSS Barracuda...” Artemis sighed, apparently annoyed by such an illogal suggestion. “We really just need something that can get us into the Barracuda. Did the technicans finish mounting the advanced structural plating and the new tip?”
“Yes, though I still think that plan is utter sui”
“That plan has a success chance of 76% with a survival rate of 94%. At least in regards to getting into the ship without lethal injuries.” Artemis stated. Turning around and passing by Miranda, he however whispered: “Suicide is the plan following after we entered the ship...”

36.
“I was told, a second name for our Earth has once been ‘blue planet’...” Miranda said, staring through the cockpit glass at the steadyly shrinking planet. It was of a dirty, grey color. Clouds of smoke and dust, even decades after the Impact. “Can’t see much of that anymore, can you?”
“Many things changed. And who knows, maybe the planet will somewhen, in centurys, become blue again... I’m envy at you being able to live till that moment.” Artemis said with a trace of amused sarcasm.
“Didn’t you tell me our chances at survival, even mine, are incredibly low? How can you still assume I will actually survive this?” Miranda asked in slight confusion.
“Well... A good friend of mine once told me about the evaluation of chances being pointless. Either we succeed, or we won’t have the breath to complain about it, afterwards...” Artemis smiled at her before he turned his head towards the instruments again.
Miranda couldn’t do anything but simply lean back in the back seat of the two-man spaceship. It was a small scout frigate, incapable of leaving the planet on it’s own and much less capable of a direct reentry without taking irrepairable damage. Usually these ships were shot into the orbit by a carrier rocket and then used for transportation or research purpouses. And of course as a tool of military might in space itself.
“Though, seriously, I’ve always imagined space flight to be more... well... something. I mean, we’re... uhm, I’m just sitting here and waiting in utter boredom.” Miranda complained.
“Not my fault. Blaim yourself for being incapable of even taking one of the more simple navigating and control tasks... Though that’s may unfair, after all I’m simply more capable and can easyly handle it all at once.”
“Hmpff... are we there yet?”
“Obviously, no.”
“And when we will be there?”
“Come on Miranda, are you going to ask this every 15 minutes?”
“Well, if you refuse to give out better answers...” She couldn’t resist a snicker, but decided to leave the poor genius alone for now. Instead she leant back, closed her eyes and prepared her body for what was to come.

“There she is... the MSS Barracuda...” Artemis stated. “Or at the very least there certainly won’t be another stealth cruiser hiding nearby a few asteroids right now.”
“Hmmm... doesn’t look that big, does it? Though given the distance... 120m length should probably be considered big in this regard. The ship doesn’t look like somebody’s aboard, though... much rather looks like a dead wreck.”
“As much as it does, at the very least the stealth system is still active, the scanners show nothing at all. Now we merely got to figure out our approach...” Artemis returned to the silence that had taken up the most time of the hour-long flight. At least that was a clear advantage of such a small military vessel; with a civilian freight ship the travel would probably have taken a few days.
“In any case we shouldn’t linger around for too long... I feel... watched. And you’re sure the sensors of the barracuda are not functional?” Miranda asked. She indeed didn’t feel well, something was worrying her, though she couldn’t exactly pin down what it was.
“Entirely sure. The stealth system uses a combination of ablative armor and diffusing energy fields to completely nullify sensors in either direction. As long as the stealth is up, the sensors of the Barracuda can’t find us either.”
They had closed in by now, and Artemis fired the reverse engines to slow them down to a maneuverable speed. Keeping a distance of a few hundred metres, he started to guide their spaceship in a spiral pattern around the Barracuda, using the added optical scanners to gather as much information as possible.
Whilst he was doing his job, Miranda simply examined the large spacecraft: From the outside, it pretty much looked like a symetric group of white-plated cuboids of different size and length, more or less randomly attached to form something like a long main section, two engine compartments on either side and something that could possible be a bridge or something related. And indeed, the ship was dark as the asteroid next to it, nothing actually indicated this ship would still have energy. Well, except for the stealth, that was.
Artemis triggered the button for the long-range radio transmission “General Owarez, here’s the Protector. We made visual contact with the Barracuda. Stealth active, no sign of other activity. We will proceed with engagement plan Alpha.” He turned the radio off again. He didn’t exspect an answer... the radio call would take multiple minutes to reach earth and Owarez couldn’t radio back without risking to alert Subject #5, assuming the receivers of the Barracuda were still at standby. Of course it was risky to send a radio signal that close to the potentially hostile ship, but the Protector’s communication system was a directed one, sending the radio waves into a single direction only. 
“Alpha... wasn’t that the frontal assault with included crash into the outer hull of the ship? Are you sure that’s a smart move? Even with the reinforced tip I don’t think this ship can actually penetrate the Barracuda’s hull... not to mention the other problems...” Miranda asked, a slight hint of worry in her voice. Even if the Protector could pierce itself into the Barracuda’s hull, there was the risk of a leak that could potentially kill both of them before they even were to leave the ship. Oh well, more likely it would kill Artemis, but Miranda didn’t like the thought of moving through vacuum very much.
Raising an eyebrow, she continued: “Seriously, why don’t we just land in the open hangar bay?” Artemis threw her a questioning look, but she simply pointed at the open compartment on the rear of the Barracuda. No doubt, it was a docking hangar for smaller spacecraft.
“But... Strange... I could have sworn that one had been closed just a few minutes ago.” Miranda wasn’t sure what was the thing she should worry the most about: The fact the hangar had been opened... the fact Artemis wasn’t as usually insisting on his brain being flawless... or the fact he indeed said “Protector for Owarez. We change our approachment plan to Sigma, the hangar deck seems to be open.”
“Artemis... you are aware this could... well... be a trap?” Miranda had that bad feeling again. Did Subject #5... Samantha... know they were here?
“Assuming the bulkhead was not opened the first time I checked, this means there was either a strange coincedence in form of a technical defect or somebody does indeed exspect us there. And I doubt it’s the former. But nontheless, if we don’t need to ram this ship into the Barracuda, we have an additional escape route later on and our survival chance would increase by...” he didn’t need to turn his head to see Miranda’s annoyed expression. “... it would increase.”
“Well then, down into the cave of the beast...” Miranda simply commented, leaning back, prepared for whatever may was to come.
Within a matter of a few seconds, the Protector moved in on the open hangar, slowing down... and flying through the electric barrier meant to block sensors and protect the inside of the ship from the vacuum of space. “Holy shit...” Artemis gasped. Miranda could, from the back position, not exactly see what was going on, but one of the instruments had started to signal something. “Miranda, be careful... this ship for sure isn’t dead... quite the opposite... the biosensor is running hot, the ship is full of lifeforms.
And for some reason I’m not sure whether I want to see the faces of the original crew amongst those...”

37.
“And you’re sure the air is clean?” Miranda asked again. It was already surprising to feel gravity again, even if artificial one... but for the life support system to be, apparently, fully intact...
“Jep, clean air, actually a few ranks cleaner then what most people on the Earth breath.” Without further hesitation, Artemis hit a few buttons and with a low hiss the cockpits glass opened, ever so slowly. Indeed, Miranda could even smell the freshness of that air, compared with the barely sufficient oxygen-level the frigate’s life support could create.
“Well then... let’s go and find my sister... Or figure out what’s going on here, to begin with.” With these words, Miranda jumped out of the ship’s cockpit and down onto the ground three meters below. Within a mere moment, her eyes reformed, literally scanning the surrounding hangar with a mix of normal, infrared and xray sight. But indeed it was just that: An empty hangar with minimal lighting.
Or rather, it was that when they arrived, because with a low buzzing, the entire hall was suddenly lit brightly, all of it’s light activating. Instantly, Miranda backed up to the ship again, looking for a possible threat. But there was none... at least nothing visible to her keen eyes.
“Hmmm... this could have been the automatic protocol... or somebody else.” Artemis concluded, climbing down along one of the frigate’s landing pads. Just as he touched the floor, a bulkhead nearby opened, revealing the view at a corridor which was just turning brighter, skylight after skylight activating. “And now I’m quite sure it is NOT an automatic protocol. I don’t like this...”
“Actually...” Miranda started to smile grimly. “I do: This means somebody has been waiting and is now welcoming us. And assuming this someone is Subject #5... it indeed means she is still Samantha... I don’t see a reason for a shifter to do anything but attempt to destroy or assimilate us.”
“Point taken... does this mean you’re going to accept the invitation?” Artemis asked.
“I don’t see any reason against it... I’m sure she knows traps don’t really work against me.”
“Very well, I will proceed with backup plan Delta then.” Artemis simply said.
Miranda eyes him closely. “Just be careful not to do something stupid... maybe... we won’t need to fight here, at all...”
“I can’t share your optimism here. As I’ve said, it’s the backup plan. If you can solve the situation by yourself, I will gladly stop and have a nice ride back home...” Artemis chuckled and walked towards the opposing side of the hall, not bothering to search a control panel, but simply cutting the bulkhead in front of him open with two quick slashes. “Good luck Miranda... though I hope neither of us will need it.” With these words he disappeared into the, still glistening, hole he had cut.
And now... the family reunion... Miranda thought, proceeding forward into the passage that had opened. As she passed the bulkhead, it insteadly closed behing her again, another one further up ahead opening in return. I won’t have to search for you, sis, will I...
Steadyly, neither slow nor in a hurry, Miranda made her way along the path opening up for her. If Samantha knew her exact position, she most likely knew were Artemis was and probably as well where he was heading... But she couldn’t worry about Artemis right now. She couldn’t permit herself to be distracted.
As she passed through corridor after corridor and even through an empty mess hall, Miranda couldn’t but feel a slight worry rising. Didn’t Artemis say something about countless life signs? But so far, neither her eyes nor her ears had noticed anything at all... I rather looked like an abandoned ghost ship.
And come to think of it... where was it’s crew? If Samantha was really still sane... did she kill the entire military personal? And what about eventual corpses. Something inside of Miranda whispered the answer, though she tried her best to ignore it.

The next bulkhead lead Miranda into a small room she could quickly identify as elevator of sorts. Without hesitation, she stepped inside and she felt a short shake as it started moving. Considering the rough draft she had mentally made of the ship’s layout, it wasn’t exactly surprising where she was heading: it was the bridge itself.
The elevator halted, it’s doors opened, revealing a last bulkhead a few metres up ahead. This time it didn’t open by itself, merely the green light on the control board next to it indicated it was unlocked and ready to be opened.
Samantha left the last step to Miranda... and latter one would for sure not hesitate here.

She had prepared herself for this. Again and again. Mentally and physically. And yet... she could feel the shiver running up her spine as she saw... her sister... sitting on the other side of the room. Except for her dress, which apeared to be that of a female military officer, probably obtained from this ship itself, she was just like in Miranda’s memorys. Of course... she couldn’t  age, either...
A minute passed, Miranda and her sister still standing at opposing ends of the bridge, until, finally, Samantha started. “Mi-Miranda...” As much as Miranda tried, she couldn’t fully ignore the warmth emanating from her voice itself. “I knew you would change... though... I didn’t exactly exspect this...”
It was obvious what she was referring though. “I like blue.” Miranda responded, still unable to formulate something more elaborate. Was this... really her sister? “You... are you... Samantha... or...”
Laughter. Not sinister, not evil. It was bright and cheerful. It was her sister’s laughter, the only one that had ever accompanied her through her childhood... “Of course, silly... And actually, shouldn’t I be the one to ask? After all it is your body that changed that much, not mine. I’m still like all those years ago... well...” the dark, sad and pained hue in her voice was hard to overhear. “nearly...”
“How... how can I know I am actually talking to my sister and not to an alien right now?” Miranda asked, straight forward.
“You can’t... the same way you cannot guarantuee same thing about yourself to anyone else... but me. I know how... it thinks... I believe you, I know it’s you and noone else.” Samantha answered. “Won’t you come closer?”
“You did exspect me... and invited me here... how and why?”
“Many questions... but now, since you’re here, we got all the time of the world to answer all of them... It was... a feeling... I cannot describe it... but I knew someone was coming here... and I knew it was you, Miranda... Noone else could have been it.
And in regards to the ‘why’: Is there anything suspicious about me wanting to see my little sister after all those years I’ve spent in forced exile?” Her voice was again trying to reach the warmth it had contained before, but both of them realized the flaw in it, the slight shake. “I...
I don’t really want to hide anything from you, Miranda... of course you’re not exclusively here to talk with me... I as well...” Samantha turned her head away, looking through one of the windows towards the Earth in far distance. “I’m sorry, Miranda... but I need to know whether you are my sister... or my enemy.”
Miranda knew this question had to be brought up. She had, since days, considered her possible answers. And she had made up her mind, about the stance she would take... about what she was ready to do, if necessary...
“Samantha... I’ve always been your sister...
and will always stay your sister.”

38.
Samantha’s face brightened up and she audibly breathed out in relief.
“But whether I’m your enemy, that choice is utterly up to you.” Miranda continued, her fist involuntaryly clenching up. “You said you knew someone was coming... and you knew that someone was me. How so?”
“Miranda... is there something you would do differently, if you could? A choice in your life, you would like to reconsider...” To both of them, the meaning of the question was obvious.
Miranda took a few seconds before she answered, but then she said: “No.”
“Then... this.. present... the power, the abilities... do you appreciate them? Or are they a burden to you? A curse?”
“They’re a reponsibility. I had to learn that... the hard way.” Lambarda... would she ever manage to get those pictures out of her head. No... and it’s good that way.
“I see... I was worried, nervous... after all... I’m the reason you have become like this. I’m not sure how much you know about these experiments and”
She was interrupted. “Project Morpheus. I’ve found out a lot of things. Enough.”
Samantha nodded. “Before I... escaped... or rather, tried to escape to the moon, I took the shape of one of the scientists I had killed, and made a fake log entry... I suggested that most likely my very DNA was the key to the, compared to the previous experiments, success and that the military should attempt to recruit my family for the project... I knew, they wouldn’t approach mother... but you... And I knew you were going to take the chance, if just to escape the grasp of the slums.”
Miranda tried to rate the information she had just received. To begin with, it could be a bluff alltogether. Assuming it was not, however, this meant that either Samantha cared for her or the shifter had intentionally attempted to reproduce indirectly by creating another of his kind via means of the military. “I suppose I should thank you. I’m not sure whether I would have continued living after... mother died.”
Silence.
“Mother... she is dead?” Samantha averted her face once more. “I... I should have exspected that... the slums... kill...” Metal started to creak, and Miranda realised it was the armrest of Samantha’s chair being maimed with brute force.
It took Samantha about two minutes, before she turned around to Miranda again, letting go of the disfigured armrest, her face still wet, but controlled again. “Miranda... please... don’t missunderstand this... I’m your sister... but... I cannot but hate... humanity. The military... the government... and these cursed barons... all of them, every single of them... I want... I want to rip them apart... maul them, torture them... I want them to die slowly, screaming for mercy... for all the pain they have inflicted upon me, you, our family and all those who couldn’t defend...”
Anger. Bitterness. Sadness. Fury. Miranda could hear, see and feel all of these emotions in her sister’s face, voice and words. “I... I cannot judge you for that... I’m not free of that hatred either... and I have taken my share of revenge as well... you remember that bastard who killed father? I’ve been death to him... though, given the circumstances, I couldn’t make it as painful as I had originally planned to.”
Though it was filled with sadness, Samantha snickered for a short moment, ever so lowly. “Isn’t it paradox for us to come to an agreement in such a... special topic? We, who we always were of different oppinion?”
“Yes... but if this whole situation isn’t paradox in itself...” Miranda couldn’t but smile as she shrugged. Slowly, she started to approach her sister. “We’ve both become different from other humans... not to say we have become something entirely different... and yet we’re still bound by memories and emotions. We’re sisters, not in blood anymore, but in mind alone...”

“Miranda...” Samantha started, slowly, with a thoroughly serious tone. “Even without reading it in your eyes, it cannot be hidden... you haven’t come here for the sake of our familiary bond... did you?” Miranda shook her head. “You... were sent to kill me.” Miranda nodded. Samantha’s left started to drum her fingers onto the remaining armrest. “Will... will you kill me, Miranda?”
She ceased to approach her sister and merely eyed her, as Samantha once again averted her eyes. Miranda wanted to say ‘No’. Her hearth, all her emotions, everything in her screamed ‘No’. But she knew there was too much at stake to simply fall back into an instinct-based decision. “I don’t know.”
Again, metal started crying, this time under Samantha’s left. “You... you... consider killing your own sister? Me?” Her voice wasn’t threatening. It was sad. Utterly sad. 
“Only if necessary.” Miranda added.
“Necessary... Necessary for whom?! For the military? For your own gain? For mankind?!” It wasn’t hard to tell Samantha was upset. Not just by means of her body and voice... even the ship itself seemes to agree, a clicking and hissing emerging from quite anywhere. Or at least Miranda could have sworn she had meant to hear something like that.
“Samantha... both of us need to be... realistic. We are a threat, not just to our enemies, but as well to those surrounding us and, in the end, every single living being on Earth, may even the galaxy itself!”
“Miranda!” Fixating her eyes upon Miranda’s, the anger in her eyes became readable. “Do you even realize how you’re talking?! You sound like one of those people who decided it would be a good idea to abduct civilians in order to turn them into brainless mutant monsters. You don’t sound like my sister, you sound... human...”
Miranda couldn’t but shiver when she heard the way her sister pronounced that last word. “But Samantha... even know... both of us... we are hu”
“WE ARE NOT!” Samantha jumped up. “We both have surpassed humanity! Our bodies have become the perfect combination of power and will, we do not share our DNA with the human race anymore. Our both thoughts are free and untainted, unlike that of every single human. Nothing connects us to the human race anymore!”
Miranda shook her head, energically. “I cannot agree with that. Even though I have the appearance of a reptile, a metabolism unlike anything else you will find at earth, abilities which originate from an extraterrestial lifeform... I still consider myself human, if just for the emotions and thoughts I have.”
“I... I see...” Samantha sat down again. “It’s your free will to be like that, after all... And yet... what has humanity ever done for us, except for throwing garbage at us, forcing us to do all those low jobs noone else wanted to do... May you say it were just those rich doing that... but in the end noone objected, truly objected... For humanity, our misery could have gone on until our miserable deaths...
Samantha, realize this: We, we two, have finally the chance to change the world. We have the wisdom and the strength to make decisions and enforce them. If necessary, we could subjugate every single being, every single human, in order to create a perfect harmony, a peaceful world of equality. There would be no slums, no barons, no military... just people, living a free and fair life.
Can’t you understand fate itself has given us this chance? Do you think it was coincedence for me and you to become like this and then meet here again? At a powerful spaceship of the military, containing the capabilities to help us conquering not just the Earth, but even space? We’re both immortal, Miranda, without any age... we could live on forever, spreading our wisdom to every single living being in the entire universe. We could create harmony, destroy war itself...
How can you deny such a future?”
“Because it’s a world of dreams... and nothing that could become reality.”

39.
Samantha was silent, staring at Miranda in slight disbelief, as the blue shapeshifter continued: “Of course everyone’s goal is to create a world of harmony. A world of his harmony. I will not doubt you want to help everyone, creating your such-called world of peace... but it won’t be true peace if you enforce it with war. And it cannot be true harmony if it is not the free will from every single being.
You said we could potentially subjugate the human race itself? Yes, we could... but what is the point of a peace only held up by strength, terror and mind control? Samantha, do you truly realize what you intend to create: You want to create a human hive.”
Silence.
“I know.”
“You... you... know?”
“I’m like you, Miranda... Just like you, I didn’t only absorb the shifter’s abilities, but his mind as well... a hive... a social struct where every single being only exists as a part of the total... where every individual serves the purpouse to help the hive itself...
Do you know what bees are, Miranda? When the ground was still fertile, covered in green, there were small insects, bees. They are small, fragile, prey of nature. And yet they survived... by means of forming hives. A single bee is weak, but the hive is strong and poses a threat to even the mightiest hunter, whilst still surviving the whims of nature... 
Or ants... small, incredible small and weak... and yet a hive of ants will build structes rivalling our metropolis’... and they have done so centurys before humanity even started constructing huts.
The nature has, again and again, shown us how a successfully society can exist... in the latest form, we have seen the shifters... When they arrived at Earth, they have been scattered, outnumbered, alone, weak... But when they were still united in a hive, they had the power to develope those abilities we both have obtained.
The humans... are weak... their most powerful enemy is themselves, as the world wars and the Impact itself have proven... And yet they advanced to the supreme species of Earth... imagine what were to happen if you combine the most powerful species with the best social system nature ever invented...
This is my goal, Miranda, to unify all living beings and create a hive, a hive with the power to bring peace and harmony to the entire galaxy!”
Even without the staring look, Miranda knew her sister exspected an answer... “I... I’m thankful. For a few minutes... just those few... I felt cheerful, because I had been reunited with my sister. This few minutes are more then I had ever anticipated to have... I can live with the fact... to have lost her again...”
“You... Miranda, sist”
“DON’T CALL ME SISTER!” Miranda’s eyes sparkled, not just with anger, but as well with the despair of someone who had been lead to his desire, just to see it taken from him. “I have hoped, prayed to find you here... but what I find is a body, that has once been my sister, but is now host to an alien which controls her, without her even realizing. You’re not my sister... you are... Subject #5.” Even though she was saying this... Miranda couldn’t stop a train of tears running along her cheek. At least until she removed her glands once again.
“Miranda... do you... really want to have it end like this?” Samantha sounded disappointed and, to some degree... threatening... “I can understand if you don’t want to believe me... even if we had the same goal, we were never able to agree on a common way to reach it... and in the end we always ended up ruining the efforts of the other one. Couldn’t we cooperate just once... this single time...”

“I’m sorry... I cannot follow you on this path. The human race has one important strength: the individuality of every single being. If you were to unify them into a hive, you would destroy that important abilitiy that differs humans from other life... I as well desire a world without war... but not by means of force.
If that is the path you have choosen... I’ll have that path end... right here...”
Slowly, ever so slowly, Samantha rose from the chair she had been resting on. “I’ve hoped it wouldn’t come to this... but I should have known my sister... you have always been the more sensible of us two, always the one to hesitate, afraid to do the things necessary to be done. If you don’t want to help me on my path... I cannot force you... but I can ask you to step aside. Call me whatever you want, but you are the one and only thing I still value. If you leave now, I will not harm you... or your friend... Otherwise...” Again the ship appeared to react to her mood or voice, or maybe both, the walls started to ache and buzz and shuffle and click.
“I cannot permit you to proceed like that. And if you don’t want to stop...” Miranda took a deep breath. “Then I will have to make you stop!” Within a moment, her form grew, reshaping, the scales darkening, hardening. Ideas, plans, concept she had designed all along the past days, weeks, months... her body obeyed, reshaping more and more, giving her an oversized, bulky shape that didn’t resemble her usual female beauty in the slightest. It was a body meant to survive. And kill.
We will see who of us two will win... it wasn’t just thought... it was a voice... one beyond the understanding of normal beings. There was no necessarity to have vocal chords or even a breathing organ and accordingly Miranda didn’t have one anymore. Everything was replaced to suit a single purpouse: To kill her sister. To kill Subject #5.
“As much as you are a good-natured being... you are naive, little sister.” Hell broke loose as suddenly the walls itself started to attack Miranda, shooting forward, propelled by an immense force. And even though the two wall partitions were large and probably had a weight and force to smash a human, Miranda didn’t even bother defending against those, as the metal uselessy crashed into her and dropped to the ground.
She gasped. Not because of the attack or anything close to pain. But because of what she saw inside of the wall, now after the plating had been removed. Insects. Many of them... dozen, hundred...
Small, green insects, individually small, not even half of a metre in height, bur yet dangerously looking, given their mantis-like appearance: Arms ending in presumptly sharp claws, a lower body more similar to that of a spider, sprouting eight legs for mobility. Hissing and clicking; Miranda finally realized where the noises had come from. What... are those...
“They are... well... my breed. There was more then enough biological material in this ship when I first came on board. The crew was... unwilling to cooperate and it would have been a waste to let it rot... therefore I decided to... use it.” There was an amused smile running across Samantha’s face. “Congratulations, Miranda, you’re an aunt now.
A thousand-touble one!”

40.
It wasn’t until she had cut the first of the insects into two, when Miranda realised the mantis-spider-brood wasn’t supposed to actually cut her with their razorsharp forearms: When her own arm, formed to a blade of metal-infused bone, cut through one of the bugs, she instantly felt some sort of acid eating away the outmost layer of her armblade. Just one moment later, she felt a light, barely recognizeable cut on her left ankle, followed by a burning sensation.
“You see, my children are not just created to slice apart humans... but I created them to fight the only enemy dangerous to myself, as well: Both their blood and the poison they secrete from their claws is highly acidid. The acid itself can eat through even the strongest metal and can only be contained by a special, chitin-based skin, which again is very vulnerable to cuts of any sorts... but is the base material of my children.
They aren’t meant to be invulnerable like me, they’re not meant to be unreplaceable... they’re just meant to kill the enemy, no matter the cost.” As Samantha spoke, more and more of the insects threw themselves at Miranda.
Slicing through every single of them, dodging most of their attacks, Miranda however realized this way she was bound to lose: Whilst the acid didn’t last long, every drip of it ate a part of her own body and her ability to regenerate wasn’t unlimited in this surrounding. Even worse, she couldn’t possibly absorb the biomass of the insects without taking in even more acid... and if she were to attempt reforming her scales into something resistant to the acid... she would be cut apart.
After the first one, or maybe two dozen of cut insects, she instead started to batter them off, causing their fragile bodies to splatter whenever they were flung into a wall. However, everytime she did so, she had to back up in an effort to escape the following splatterrain of acid, something near impossible in this cramped up room.
Shit... this isn’t how I intended it to be... I need to... find a way to get rid of those bugs! She considered blasting the cockpit glasses off to let vacuum take care of the bugs... but she herself has never been in direct space and she was sure Samantha would get even more of an advantage if she were to do that...
Slowly, step by step, Miranda started to back up, still trying to kill the insects without shedding too much of their acidic blood, in an attempt to stop the encirclement. But regardless at which wall she tried to press, the mass of insects caught up and forced her off again.
Minutes passed by, one after another, more and more insectoid corpses starting to cover the once clean bridge. Miranda had stopped counting... 100? 200? There was no end to them. It was as if the entire room was filled with a clicking, buzzing, hissing, slicing, acidic sea of insectoid bodys.
And then... the sea ceased swarming her. At once, all of the insects stepped back, leaving her some space to recover her breath and tend to the countless cuts and acidic-burnt holes all across her body.
“And? What do you say, sister, isn’t this the most powerful army you have ever seen? May humans are the most skilled race in regards to craftmanship... but my children are, by far, the superior soldiers... and yet they are entirely loyal and obey every command to it’s fullest...” As if to underline her words, she stretched out her hand, one of the mantis’ crawling onto it. Holding it out in front of her, the insect raised one of it’s claws and decaptated itself, dropping to the ground, like many hundred of it’s fallen brothers. “If you cannot stop a few hundred of those... Do you really think anything in this universe will be able to stop multiple thousands of them?”
Miranda couldn’t but choke at the imagination. She had slain hundreds. And probably was going to kill one thousand, maybe, before succumbing... but she didn’t doubt her sister had far more then that in her reserves...

With an desperate yell, Miranda wiped her arm towards her sister, the arm extending rapidly, turning into a metallic spike. To her surprise, Samantha did neither bother dodging, defending, or moving at all. Instead, she simply kept sitting there, watching how the spike impaled her chest, emerging from the back of the captain’s seat again.
“And now?” Her voice contained a hint of disappointment. “Keep in mind sister, our bodies are alike... you cannot kill me this e...” another spike hit the other side of her chest. “easyly. A ripple ran through Miranda’s arms and an immense number of smaller spikes erupted from her sister’s insides, originating from Miranda’s original arms, turning Samantha and the seat into a literal swiss cheese.
Nontheless, Miranda knew her sister was still alive and as well entirely calm. The insects continued their assault and Miranda was forced to back up, withdrawing her arms to defend herself. Across the next minute, Samantha’s body simply rebuilt from a blody mass of flesh into her former self. Then the insect swarm stopped, yet again.
“Admit your defeat sister...You cannot win this fight...”
Hectically, Miranda’s eyes darted around, trying to figure out a way to win... or at the very least escape with her life. She definitely considered catapulting herself into space in an attempt to reach something, one of the moon colonys maybe... But even if she were to succeed with her escape... What about Artemis? What about mankind? If she couldn’t kill Samantha here, in the midst of space, she for sure wouldn’t be able once her sister had conquered the planet itself...
Would she be able to destroy Samantha and the entire ship, if she were to turn herself into a living bomb? Unlikely, given she had already lost vast amounts of her former body mass and stored energy. Miranda could literally feel the weakness in her own body.
“Oh... and don’t forget about that cute lad down in the main reactor room. If you agree to surrender, it would may be in time to safe his life, as well...” Samantha pointed at one of the less blood-covered and still intact screens, which, just then, turned on, showing the interior of the large reactor control room:
In it’s mid, there was a large, cylindrical something, most likely the reactor, and there was a single figure, Artemis standing at the control panel. And whilst he was working on it with one hand, the second was whirling around to this and that side, his sword cutting through the air and defending him against countless insects, coming at him from every door, every vent, every opening in every wall.
“In all honesty, I’m surprised he still didn’t die... A single cut would be enough for his human body to succumb, but so far not even a single drip of acid hit his skin. And this weapon he is using doesn’t seem to take damage either.” Samantha appeared to be thoroughly studying Artemis via the screen. “Interesting specimen... but even he will eventually run out of stamina at some point and make a mistake. A single, lethal mistake.”
It was in that moment, when Artemis sword motions suddenly halted, just for the fractal of a second, but long enough for one of the bugs to draw his claw along Artemis back, slicing his coat in two, causing a small ripple of blood to splash forth. “Called it.” Samantha said with an amused smile, an expression that turned into a grim grin when she saw how Miranda spun around.
Miranda didn’t know why the insects backed up, freeing the way to the door leading her off the bridge. And she didn’t care either. This fight was lost. And the least she could do was to rush down there and save Artemis!

41.
The bulkhead of the bridge was probably going to open by itself, but Miranda didn’t want to waste those few seconds and instead simply bashed through the solid metal, deforming it and pulling half the wall off. The elevator was open, waiting for her. However, instead of using it, a single slice of her elongating armblade cut through the elevator’s floor and one second later, she was falling down, much faster then the elevator could have travelled.
After a few moment of free fall, Miranda hit the floor, many levels lower, and she felt the bone of her left leg cracking audibly. One thought and two seconds later the bone had been repaired and reinforced with a layer of metal, as she continued to bash her way through bulkhead after bulkhead, rushing back to the hangar they had used to enter the ship.
The metal compartment on the other side of the hall was still sliced open and Miranda used the opening dashing through it. Following her instinct and the lead of sliced walls and bulkheads, she mades her way through the ship’s interior, passing room after room, hallway after hallway, until she finally reached her goal:
The large reactor chamber, the buzzing, lightly glowing cylinder in it’s middle, filling most of the, otherwise empty, room from floor to ceiling. And there, in front of the panel, Artemis was sitting, leaning against the cold metal. For one second Miranda thought she was too late, but then she noticed that Artemis’ left was still resting on the control panel, his fingers moving across the touchscreen and the keyboard.
“Artemis!” Miranda quickly made her way over, cowering down next to him. “Artemis?!”
Seemingly ignoring her, Artemis’ hand continued to dance across the panel. As far as she could tell, however, the red lights and messages indicated he hadn’t been very successfull with his plan.
“Artemis? Can you hear me?”
“Must... focus... break... security protocols... Can’t... speak...” Miranda nearly jumped backwards at the sound of his voice. It was utterly different from usually: Barely more then a whisper, weak, shaky... and... slow.
“Artemis...” she whispered.
“Can’t speak... now....”
She reached for his shoulder. “It’s fine... you can stop now... we’re going to leave. We’ll fight another day.”
Artemis’ hand stopped moving. His head slowly lifted, swaying back and forth until fixating her. One of his eyes was directed at her, the second was twitching around randomly. “Sorry... I... I failed... couldn’t... couldn’t...” Artemis closed his eyes again, leaning back and resting his left onto the ground. For one second there was silence, before he continued. “The reactor... the computers... they don’t control it... she controls it... I can’t cause an overload... And if you’re here...”
A cold voice spread throughout the room: “Yes, it means she couldn’t succeed either.” Miranda didn’t need the returned clicking and hissing to know her sister was accompanied by her swarm. “See, Miranda: You can’t win this. Give up, please. It is not to late to accept and share my goals.”
Hidden from Samantha’s view, Miranda saw how Artemis moved his right to the metallic sheath on his belt. “Miranda... I’m sorry... but... we will have to go with plan... Omega... 0%... for both of us...”
“No, Atemis, we can still survive, I just need to”
“Quiet. I’m... dead... as good as... Poison... and... my brain... I can’t concentrate... my time has come... just...” Artemis voice was getting slower as he spoke, his mind visibly intent on keeping his body alive and controllable as long as somehow possible. “Miranda... the... micro-reactor... heat... ignites... ignites...
Afterdusk...”
Even inside of a spaceship in the midst of space, it felt as if a cold breeze whirled through the room.
“No... no! Artemis!” She grabbed his shoulders, but even though she started to shake him lightly, she knew he wasn’t going to continue speaking. Her hands, her eyes, her ears... everything told her his pulse, his heart had stopped.
“Cut your formed bonds, Miranda. Humans are no sufficient partners to either of us... you see how fragile, how weak they are... Can you really consider allying with them instead of with me?” Samantha continued.
Miranda could feel emotions, anger, sadness, raising inside of her. But she knew she had better to do then to give in to primal instincts. Artemis had wanted to tell her something. A new plan. A solution, a way to win. He had fumbled on his blade... micro reactor... ignites afterdusk.
Miranda’s eyes went wide. Could this really work? She reached for the metallic sword sheath, removing it from his waist. Samantha chuckled. “That blade won’t help you. It might be a quite useful and resilent tool... but it doesn’t change your situation. Are you really still intent on fighting me? I would prefer you as an ally, but you know I won’t hesitate to kill you, if it’s necessary.”
Slowly, Miranda turned around, her eyes locked upon the sheath. “Did you know, this blade is forged to the width of a single molecule. It’s too sharp to hold it in any sort of material. Therefore this sheath is effectively an energtic forcefield, fueled by a micro-reactor. As far as Artemis told me, it was horrendously expensive...”
“And why should that possibly interest me? It’s merely another prove for the decadency of the nobleman: Instead of supplying thousands and millions of people with food, they rather build some expensive toys with it’s sole intent to kill those people.”
“And yet... this ‘toy’ will save billions of humans, now.” Utilizing one of her talons, she cracked the top of the sheath open. Within a second, the blade slipped from the now infunctional energetic holding, cut through the sheath’s outer layer and dropped into the ground, hilt-deep burried into the metal floor.
“Well, now you broke it... But what do you intend to...” She then realized Miranda wasn’t exactly bothering with the weapon... but with the small cube, not larger then one inch in diameter, she had cut from the sheath. “Wait, is that...” A trace of worry mixed into Samantha’s voice. “... but even if you make it explode, given it’s size it will never be enough to destroy me... possibly not even the ship!”
Miranda chuckled and then... swallowed the cube down. Instantly, she felt the heat radiating from the small reactor core, as it was now seperated from the sheath’s cooling system. “You know... it’s just as you said: Whenever we two had the same goal, we insisted on different paths to take... and ended up denying the goal to both of us... I feel sorry. Not for destroying your dream, but for Artemis’ death... for my impeding death... and for yours...”
As Miranda spoke, her scales started to glow, dimly, emanating a green glow and then falling off, one by one. And every single scale that fell revealed a green, metallic surface below it.
“What... what are you...” Samantha stuttered, taking a step back.
More and more of her body turned into the green, glowing material, her scales dissipating more and more, as Miranda continued speaking: “What irony... the stuff which nearly wiped out mankind... is now going to save it...” Miranda felt her mind slowly dissipating as well. After all her entire body was, slow, but steadyly transforming into pure
“Crinium!” Samantha yelled, finally realizing what Miranda was about to do.
Or rather, had done. “Sayonara, sister...” were Miranda’s last words, before her mind fully disappeared and her body crumbled into small, green rocks of pure Crinium.
A pile of Crinium, with a glowingly hot reactor in the midst of it.
A pile of Crinium, which exploded violently just seconds afterwards.

Epilog
“Are you awake?” a female voice asked.
“seld...” Wait, that was supposed to sound different. “yerf... yet... yes.” Her own voice was... strange... and yet familiar.
Who was she?
“Be careful and don’t move too much, it may take some time until your motion memory fully adapts to the body.” The female voice advised her. And she obeyed, merely trying to open her eyes.
She saw the ceiling, a white one. There were instruments and a few machines around. She was laying on some sort of bed. And there was a a young woman, barely older then a girl, next to her. She felts as if she should know the girl... and yet... “Hu... Who... are you?”
The girl chuckled. “Don’t you remember me? My face didn’t change that much in those four years...”
She tried to examine the girl’s face more closely. It was definitely familiar... and there was a name she thought to be fitting: “Bibi?”
“Jep. Seems like you are alright.” Bibi turned her head and pointed at a door, which promptly opened. And revealed two... uncommon persons behind it.
Both of them approached, curiousity and interest in their faces. One had a body covered with pure, fire-red scales and had a curvous, attractive, maybe a bit too attractive, body. The second one, nearly two heads shorter then anyone else in the room, had blue scales... a color which somehow reminded her of someone...
The red one halted next to the bed and mustered the person on it thoroughly. “Did I really brabble as much as her when you woke me up?” she asked towards Bibi.
The blue, short reptile woman sighed. “Of course you did, we all did.” With a slight chuckle, she added: “And do. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine in a matter of days.”
“Who... who am I?”
To her confusion, both of the anim’s turned around to Bibi, apparently exspecting the answer as well. The human girl smiled. “Well, I think your name will be... Artemis.”
Artemis. That... sounded wrong. “Isn’t... that... a male name?”
The blue one shook her head. “No, actually Artemis was the Greek goddess of hunt. It’s indeed a female name, uncommonly given to male persons.”
Yet... the name... ‘Artemis’... she remembered someone she had known was supposed to carry that name.
“By the way, this one” Bibi pointed to her left, at the blue reptile. “Is Athena. And the readhead to my right is Bastet. And both of them are effectively your sisters.”
“My... sisters...” 
“Well, technically you would be more similar to twins, given you are all clones of the same person.” Bibi tried to explain. “But you really should just go with ‘sisters’, it fits better. But now you need to rest. I need you in your full strength as soon as possible.

After all, world domination won’t come by itself, right ladies?”

written by
Alblaka,
devoted to a quite unique lady:
Sal