Vis woke up with a splitting headache the next day. Before leaving the room she entered a brief state of contemplation. Her day to day activities had been moving at a rate where she hadn’t been able to stop and consider the world around her. Why was English a language in this world? If she recalled correctly, and she did, what the A.I had said this was an entirely different world than the Earth she knew. At the moment she lacked the creativity to form a hypothesis of what type of world Novo Prime exactly was. The only clue she had was the fact that part of the Minerva laboratory had fallen from the sky in an unexplainable event.

After finishing her thoughts, Vis left the room and was met with the scent of cooked food. She began to value well-prepared food since all she had eaten previously was the raw meat of animals. Though it was mostly due to the fact that the food would be far more nutritious and thereby beneficial to eat.

At the dining table, Charlie already found a seat and was busy reading a book. Rachel finished making a plate of food and was preparing to bring it to Vis when she turned around and saw she was awake.

“Well don’t just stand there, come eat.” Rachel smiled as she placed a plate on the table before sitting down. Just like that the three began eating.

“No reading and eating at the table, Charlie. You’ll get food on your books.” Rachel said with a frown.

Charlie closed the book somewhat reluctantly. Of course, her real reason for reading the book was to find some way to help Vis, but after her attempt to help yesterday went wrong, she didn’t want to suggest anything just yet.

Vis began eating while glancing at the book Charlie was reading; The Boy and the Boat, A Tale of Adventure. Vis couldn’t help but think of everything she knew of Earth, if Charlie was there, perhaps she would be interested in something else. Nearly everyone on Novo Prime shared the belief that kids should learn how to use a firearm at a young age. Still, Vis didn’t feel pity about the life the people on Novo Prime lived. She was originally supposed to become a weapon, so her sympathetic responses were intentionally dulled, but that wasn’t to say she was cold-blooded and unfeeling. For example, she began to have positive feelings toward Rachel and Charlie.

While Vis was in thought, Charlie began speaking, “Can I take Vis to meet my friends?”

Rachel began to consider it but quickly shook her head. “I need to take Vis to get registered at the Department of Records, and she may need more rest. She pushed herself too hard yesterday. Not just that, but I don’t want an accident to happen and her powers to be exposed.”

Charlie looked disappointed as she turned to Vis, “Sorry about yesterday, Vis...It's my fault you were hurt.”

Vis shook her head in response, “There is no issue. You assisted me with developing a new ability."

The ability itself was frighteningly powerful, but took too long to use and had huge mental drawback. On the plus side, as long as she gained adequate resistance to fainting, the psionic bullet would become very useful against almost any threats.

Vis thought to herself and after a few moments she began to speak, “Do you have any more suggestions?”

“Suggestions for what?” Charlie asked curiously

“The creation of any new abilities.”

“No.” Rachel immediately shot down the request.

“Is it an inappropriate thing to have requested?” Vis asked with slight confusion.

Rachel looked at Vis with deep concern. From an outside perspective, Vis seemed to not care about her own safety. Not only that, but all of her actions so far seemed very strange. From the way she spoke to the way she acted, it was clear that Vis lacked something. Then there was the hint of unfamiliarity in nearly everything she did.

“It’s not really inappropriate, but...whatever your ability is, it seems to hurt you. You could end up dying if you keep at it.” Rachel said with concern,

“I assure you that I have considered my personal safety after what occurred yesterday,” Vis said.

“That’s not what’s wrong with the situation.” Rachel shook her head. “You're putting yourself at risk, without understanding the danger,” she said as she tried to get through to Vis.

Over the past few days, Vis had become more talkative than before, but whenever she spoke it didn’t resemble anything a normal 13 year old would say, rather it was far more detached.

“I completely understand the dangers of the situation. The brain hemorrhaging that usually occurs can be counteracted by my ability to regenerate until my body can become accustomed to the strain.” Vis explained. It was half ot the truth. The nanites could repair ruptured blood vessels and reconstruct brain cells, unless she took significant damage to brain, she would continue to be just fine.

“Vis, doesn’t it hurt?” Charlie stepped in and asked as she could understand what her mother was trying to say.

“There are times when I experience large amounts of pain, but it is only for a few moments,” Vis said. The nanites would help produce adrenaline to numb painful sensations most of the time.

“Vis, you should be more concerned with your well-being.” Rachel couldn’t help but criticize her seemingly unphased attitude about being hurt.

Vis stayed silent for a few moments as she went over the values of normal humans in her head. To help and assist others, but to also keep themselves safe. Sentiment and emotion made up a large part of the human experience from what Rachel and Charlie demonstrated. Vis understood that they cared for her, but could she say the same for them? If they were in trouble she would do her best to help them. Why? She couldn’t help but ask herself. When they first met, Vis didn’t think much of them, but now…

“If your lives are in danger should I prioritize my own safety ahead of your own?” Vis asked.

“You…” Rachel was speechless. She couldn’t answer right away due to the conflicting answers that appeared in her head. Was it selfish to say no? Was it reckless to say yes?

“Vis...I’m sorry, it wasn’t right of me to attempt to put those conditions on you. With your ability, you could save a lot of lives...If you were strong enough, you wouldn’t have to make such a choice and I can only hope you’ll reach a point where you’ll never have to consider who should live.” Rachel said with an apologetic tone. She was fully aware that her line of thought could only be considered wishful thinking. The Corrupted allowed for no such thoughts, there were times where they came in hordes and killed thousands. Those who couldn't fend for themselves would always be left behind.

“I understand.” Vis nodded as she accepted the conclusion.

The best outcome was to avoid the choice of saving someone or saving herself. To be honest, Vis was aware that she didn’t have to save anyone or do anything, but there was a lack of purpose in her life and a desperate need to fill the empty spot. Once again, those were the intentions of Minerva, to instill the subconscious need of fulfilling a purpose. After all, wasn’t it easier to make someone do something if they already had the desire to do it in the first place?

After breakfast, Rachel took Charlie along to register Vis into the Department of Records. Everything checked out, but there were bound to be questions. Rachel handled most of it, showing Vis’ tattoos as evidence of human trafficking, and chalking up her reluctance to talk about it as trauma. Of course, Rachel had thought it was the truth and because of Vis having Minerva’s rules ingrained in her head, she wasn’t allowed to correct her. Besides, would Rachel even believe that she was from a different world?

Vis, or officially, Visette Thales looked at her ID card. A little plastic rectangle with her photo on it. A girl with short white hair, calm brown eyes, and delicate features that made one want to protect her from harm. Then again, depending on who was asked, Vis either looked like a very pretty boy or a very handsome girl. As to what Vis thought? She had very little, if any, concern about her looks, but in the end, the ones responsible for her current features were Minerva. The nanites altered her genetic structure in order to give her an appearance that would disarm and possibly attract others. The current Vis held little to no resemblance to her parents, not that she even knew of them.

Her entire existence was designed in a lab by people who didn't think of her as an actual living being. There was nothing on her body that could be considered her own.

…

One week later.

A black truck slowed to a crawl. One look and it was clear to see that it wasn’t an ordinary truck. It was outfitted with heavy armor plating and a machine gun with a ballistic shield attached. In addition to the thick rubber tires that were obviously bulletproof. As the truck stopped a group of people dressed in tactical gear, climbed out and surveyed the area.

“The satellite images show that the wildlife has mostly disappeared, but it failed to spot any of the Corrupted. It’s highly suspected that there is at least one Nocturnal variant around here.” The man who looked to be the leader spoke solemnly. His team members nodded and began to slowly scan the area. It wasn’t too long before they came upon trees with deep claw marks carved into them.

“Safety’s off.” The leader ordered as they moved even more cautiously.

After a 30 minutes or so, they came upon a dried husk of a cocoon.

“Alright, this is more than enough for confirmation, let’s leave as soon as possible.” The leader said as he deposited a small piece of the husk into a plastic bag before standing up. When he turned to leave he noticed he men were rooted in place with frightful expressions. Before he could ask what was wrong, one of his men pointed behind him. He quickly turned around and aimed his weapon, but there was no enemy, instead there were dozens of dried husks hanging from the branches above. As the wind blew more husks began to fall until they were too numerous to count.

“We evac immediately. Radio into central...and tell them...tell them we got a big fucking problem. It's highly likely that there is a Corrupted horde on the move. Luckily, we missed them by a few days. ” The leader watched as what looked to be hundreds of cocoons fell from the tree tops. He pulled out a large device which looked to be a camera, and pressed a button. A light flashed a few times and pictures of the surroundings appeared on its screen. The leader pressed a few buttons and a loading bar appeared, before he nodded and signalled for the men to depart.

The team hurried back to the truck and immediately drove off. A man using the radio attached to the dashboard quickly reported.

[Central Command, This is Recon Team Thirteen. We’ve discovered evidence of a Corrupted Horde. The digital photos are being sent right now. Over.]

After a few moments the radio buzzed, [Recon Team Thirteen, this is Central Command. We’ve received the digital evidence. Orders are as follows, evacuate two V.I.P’s from the nearest town and proceed back to base. Copy?]

The man on the radio looked to the leader who expressed confusion, [Central, We’re just a Recon Team, are there no extraction teams available? Over.]

[This an order directly from Commander Wakefield, you are the only ones in the area so this mission has been given to you. Extract both Rachel and Charlie Wakefield from the town and safely bring them to the Command Center. Copy?]

Hearing that it was a personal order the signs of confusion cleared up. Things became even clearer when they realized that the V.I.P’s shared the same last name as the Commander.

[Copy that. Over and out.]

“You all heard our orders. I believe the town is designated as C dash Twenty-Three, it's several hours away from our current position and maybe a few days away from New Mayhall depending on the conditions. We’ll collect the V.I.P’s and do our best to warn the town.” The leader made a grim expression.

Part of the reason he didn’t want to extract anyone was the reaction it brought. The pitiful expressions people made as they begged to at least have their children get extracted. There were times where people would erupt into violence which would lead to them opening fire on a crowd. Orders were orders and as such he couldn’t disobey, no matter how guilty he felt. The men in the truck all felt the same, but came to the same conclusion. Orders were orders, no matter what.

…