"SOPO Headquarters, Red Perch Cape District." The Voice rasps signalling the end of the journey, "I have made the call for reinforcements. Stay safe until they arrive."

Stay safe? I can't even move. What am I supposed to do if Naiberg decides to start dissecting me? The Voice is being awfully cavalier about my plight. While I am shrieking in panic internally, the helicopter begins its descent and lands on what I assume to be the roof of the SOPO HQ. Not that I can really tell from the slumped over position that I am looking from. The door of the helicopter slides open and I see a pair of beefy looking dudes in SOPO uniform step into the helicopter.

Crap. I recognize those two. They are from the black site. The shit has really hit the fan now. Those reinforcements The Voice was talking about better be on their way. The pair frisk me very roughly, ignoring the fact that I have been completely paralyzed. All my remaining equipment is confiscated and the earpiece is snatched away by those two. Cold sweat runs down my back. How am I supposed to coordinate with The Voice now? Staying safe is looking increasingly unlikely at this rate.

Satisfied with their work, the duo drag me out of the helicopter by the armpits with Naiberg's dismembered hand leading the way, trotting ahead of us on its index and middle fingers. And standing before us is the man himself, this time clad in simple blue long sleeved shirt and black slacks, his wild untidy beard bristling with excitement. Naiberg rolls up the right sleeve of his shirt, revealing a smooth stump in its place instead of a hand. He then extends the stump downwards invitingly at the dismembered hand.

The hand crouches at this signal from Naiberg and leaps at the proffered stump. As the flesh connects, I hear a squeaking noise as if a rubber glove was being put on. The hand begins to screw itself back on to Naiberg's arm, squeaking all the way as the two body parts fuse back together. I hear a slight murmur of disgust from my minders but Naiberg merely grins in response and flexes his newly attached hand once the process is complete.

"Medical Room. Chop chop." Naiberg says as he lead the way down the roof access staircase, "Oh, don't look so mortified Mr Gallant, I have no intention of killing you."

"Oog?" I dumbly reply as the paralysis makes a mess of my words.

"I'm interested in that soul of yours." Naiberg hums over his shoulder, "It would be lost if the container died, wouldn't it?"

I'm not sure whether having my soul torn out or being killed is preferable. My money is on both being equally bad ends though. The staircase terminates at a landing with an elevator and a corridor leading further into the building. The walls are all painted white and the floor is decorated with featureless beige tiles. Harsh fluorescent lighting provides illumination. The corridor itself is lined with several jail cells, some holding people.

A detention block. Nobody is going to make a fuss about someone being dragged about by SOPO officers here. Naiberg picked this place well.

The former nudist calls the elevator and the four of us board it without ceremony. Naiberg then punches in the first floor of the building as the elevator's destination before turning to regard me once again.

"Besides," Naiberg smirks nastily at me as he squeezes my shoulder in a bizarrely inappropriate show of camaraderie, "I need a replacement for my Perfecta. You owe me this much."

I have a mouth but I cannot scream. I want to scream so much right now.

.....

The doors of the elevator open with a happy ding and I am dragged down yet another stark white corridor. Naiberg leads us soundlessly past several closed doors before stopping at a room with its lights on. He opens the door without hesitation and gestures that I be brought inside. The goons drag me in as directed and I note from the surroundings that we must be in the Medical Room Naiberg had been talking about earlier. There a number of nondescript cots lying about, what appears to be a medicine cabinet, a couple of windows and a simple desk plus chair arrangement.

Standing in the center of the room is a tubby, graying man carrying a small metal briefcase. Tubby nervously wipes the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his SOPO uniform and gestures at a cot that has a pair of stands beside it, each bearing an IV drip, with both bags individually sealed in a plastic case bearing a valve. I am roughly thrown on to the said cot and Tubby whips out two pairs of handcuffs which he uses to secure me to the frame of the bed.

"You have it all set up Hartley?" Naiberg asks Tubby without bothering to look at him.

Tubby bows his head slightly and answers softly, "Yes. Yes. I managed to get the sedatives and antitoxin you requested. This is dangerous Archmage, I don't like it."

Naiberg makes an irritated noise as he hooks up both IV drips to my arm and fiddles with the attached valves, "Not that. I have eyes and I can see. I mean the soul samples. Do you have them with you?"

Tubby raises the small metal briefcase in confirmation before saying, "An angel and demon soul right? Don't tell me you intend to do the fusion here? These souls aren't fresh and we don't have much in the way of surgical equipment."

Naiberg nods in satisfaction at the drips and turns back to talk to Tubby, "The samples from the hospital are just the base. A foundation to build on. We don't have the time to source for souls of sufficient quality. Quantity will have to do."

"What are you saying?" Tubby asks with furrowed brows.

"You have angel and demon prisoners here right?" Naiberg queries.

"No!" Tubby hisses, "You want to harvest here? Are you crazy? What if someone finds out?"

"Then you shut up those people who find out." Naiberg snaps, "I have no time for this Hartley, I stand on the brink of a once in a lifetime breakthrough. We have the chance to actually reach out and touch god but here you are bothering me with irrelevant nonsense."

"Show respect." Tubby growls, "We all serve the goddess in our respective capacity and we are all equal before her. Remember that."

Naiberg sniffs dismissively, "I remember that someone had no objections when it was his men receiving the treatment."

A long tense silence forms between the pair and the guards diplomatically look away. It is at this moment I notice something from the corner of my eye. Its one of the valves attached to the IV drips. The valve is moving all by itself back to its original position. The Voice, it has to be. I breathe a sigh of relief at the confirmation that I have not been abandoned. There is a way out of this predicament, I just need to be ready for the moment.

Tubby breaks the silence first, "I'll come with you to the cells. I need to clear out the officers there before you get to work."

Naiberg grunts and begins to leave the room, "Bring one of your men as well to help control the prisoners. The other can stand guard here."

Tubby just nods and signals one of the goons to follow the pair of them to the cells. The other fellow takes a seat at the desk and leans back in barely concealed boredom. Damn. Should have known that Naiberg would not make the rookie mistake of leaving his test subject unattended. I tug at the handcuffs but they hold fast. The time is probably not ripe yet, so I shut my eyes and pretend to doze off.

....

As expected, The Voice had shut off the flow of sedative, leaving me fully alert. I begin feeling the effects of the antitoxin that Naiberg hooked me up on as it begins to break down the miasma the Hero had infected me with during the final moments of the battle against the Perfecta. My paralysis also wears off as the antitoxin does its work. Naiberg probably wants my soul clean for whatever he intends to do with it. The oily heaviness within me begins to lift and I feel much better.

Unfortunately, the antitoxin doesn't deal with the main problem that I am facing, the stress that had accumulated in my body. I don't think I can activate the core in my current condition, at least not without risking severe injury. While I ruminate on this problem, the door to the Medical Room opens again and I hear someone walking towards the bed.

"The Archmage is almost finished setting up for the ritual at the cells." I hear Tubby's voice say, "We're moving the blackguard there."

I hear the jangle of keys as Tubby unlocks the handcuffs and removes the IVs from my arm. The guard begins to manhandle me out of the bed when all of a sudden, a loud alarm blares throughout the entire building. The guard drops me back into the cot and I hear his voice calling to Tubby.

"Senior Inspector. Hurry." the guard says, "You need to see this."

I hear the both of them scramble to the window next to the cot and open my eyes, confirming that the pair have their backs to me. Good.

Its time.