It felt like one those innocent days, as Troy walked out of the puzzle room. Dr Fidelis was hurryingly pressing his fingers into the screen, muttering words that no human should comprehend. Meanwhile, Dr Hale was standing to the side, her new notebook in her hand. From the movements, and with an eye towards it, it was obvious that she was not writing in it.

Troy didn't follow the regulations to the same level, usually having thoughts about how tired his body was after doing nothing for so long. Yet as a matter of fact, he wasn't feeling bad at all. On the contrary, he was feeling up to going on a run or two, just wanting some movement in those bones of his. The energy was definitely there. It just had to be used.

That wasn't natural. That didn't match his earlier attitude. And it definitely wasn't something he would have ever decided on doing before. Was this the doing of Charlie, the man who was encouraging him to walk the same way as him? Or was it the effect of something more synthetic, something which he had been warned about using? There were ideas about it being the latter, but, then again, Troy could just ask the man about it during lunch. There was little doubt he would be there, ready to make sure he was allowed to eat.

Of course, there was nothing stopping him from really doing so. But that kind man didn't know that, didn't realise the situation that they were in. And Troy couldn't tell him no matter what happened, even if it would make it all so much easier for them. For if he said something at the wrong time, the worst person to possibly hear it would be informed in an instant.

“I already told you to hurry, buddy. Is the sight from up there really so grand?” Dr Fidelis questioned, not looking over at him in any way. Dr Hale did look up from her notepad for a moment, but likewise lost interest in the situation. Not much to be had about a person standing still. “Not every day you get to look down on people, to be sure, but that doesn't mean you have to delay operations for so long.”

It was nice knowing that the doctor had not changed his nature in any way since the last Troy checked. The slightly degrading comments about his height, personality, and inferiority complex came in plenty when one learned to listen between the lines. It made him remember just who was in charge between the two.

Through the years he had worked under people, only once had Troy met somebody who didn't show signs of being a megalomaniac. At first, he had chalked it up as the power-hungry people being hired through the enthusiasm for it. The option for power brought forth those that wanted it. Supply and demand.

But, that idea had changed through experience. Maybe it was that the people were power-hungry from the start. Nobody is evil from birth. Or so Troy liked to think, at least. The personality of a person is decided through the environment they grow up in. Give them a loving home, and they will grow based on those values in their own unique way. Beat them every day with a stick for the slightest of wrongdoings, and you will have kids dreaming about being on the other end of it, being to one give rather than receive.

And that change of personality never did stop. A person with a good childhood could still be twisted into the worst state of their mind permanently. It didn't need to be a bad thing that caused it either. The perfect life could the mental state to degrade. Imposter syndrome was a documented sickness for a reason. Yet… the mind could also take successes in another way. Fitting the role meant more than filling the job qualifications. With one promotion, another would need to come soon enough. That was the axiom of climbing the ladder, always growing, always being better than before.

This idea would be a way of life in the end. Those following it would think that they become better for following it. If they actually were right or wrong did not matter. It was only the fact that they looked down on those who didn't do the same which did. It made people inflate their ego’s, to the point where they were being perfect and everybody else was terrible.

All in all, it was possible to think that Dr Fidelis was not being a megalomaniac bastard who deserved something shoved up somewhere. It could be that he was just suffering from the side-effect of a flawed system, where the man could do nothing but perpetuate it all down to the others.

Troy took that to heart when he continued to imagine that object being pushed a little farther up into that opening. By that point, realism had already fallen away from the image. But, it was all located inside the young man’s imagination, and he was the only one who could control that. Nobody could blame him for having a little fun.

“Of course, sir,” Troy answered, stepping down from the entrance to the puzzle-room, taking the few steps in a rapid fashion. Maybe it was the lack of actual muscle-stress, but his stomach was feeling a bit more heavy, wanting some sustenance to be processed. It wasn't enough for some grumbling to begin, but it would start soon enough.

The doctor didn't answer. Not that he needed to, but some acknowledgement for his respecting the man would have been nice. Getting behind that beautiful curtain was quick enough, and the suit decompressed to instantly let him get out of it. Whoever was working the controls for the switch had some very accurate timing. Or, it could be that they had just set up some automatic sensors. Troy wouldn't have put it behind them.

He took away the curtain again, now fully clothed to perfection. Just having to throw them on the ground when not wearing them had shown not to be the smartest of ideas, some small amount of colouring coming onto them from the improper handling. It didn't look too bad, but repeating it might not have been the best of prospects for his fashion options.

Usually, when Troy got done with changing, Dr Hale would have begun the process of finishing up her supposed notes, before beginning to move towards the way they came in. Troy perhaps be momentarily stopped by the other doctor in the room, who had some inane idea to throw around with him. It was never too long, though, and everybody but Dr Fidelis would be moving to get lunch not long after.

Again, that was not the case. In an unexpected turn of events, Dr Hale had taken over the handling of the screen, while Dr Fidelis was looking through the notes that had been written down on the notepad.

“I understand the need for writing things in code, so a glance won't reveal our secrets,” Dr Fidelis commented, quickly flipping through the different pages, stopping at one with hearts instead of circles. “However… couldn't you have limited it to one of our standard encryptions? From what i'm getting, each page is a different thing entirely. How did you even get something out of hurriedly drawn lines?”

Walking over to the doctor, Troy was shown a few examples of this brilliant encoding. Pages upon pages were filled with what looked like random gibberish, but the man was apparently seeing some form of pattern in them. Either he was a person very experienced or he had way too much trust in the fact that Dr Hale wasn't actually just doodling during work hours.

“When you know the technique, deciphering them only takes time,” Dr Hale flatly answered. “Since the project already has so many precautions taken to remain secret, getting revealed due to poor encryption is not within any of our current goals. Therefore, I created an original method which would be hard to grasp without proper context. And with the lacking content in each section, I find it wholly possible that it cannot be brute-forced in under a decade.”

“I think you underestimate just how much computing power we have at our disposal here, dear,” Dr Fidelis answered, looking much too smug at his comeback. The man tried to hand the notebook over to Troy, but the younger of the two politely refused, deciding to take a backseat on the current drama.

“The algorithms currently made would not be enough to satisfy the conditions set,” Dr Hale fired back, fingers dancing across the screen. “It requires an additional upheaval of the time, as every result needs to be cross-referenced with a language detector. Not a single part of these words are a part of any official dialects. Everything is original, created by me alone. I am likely the only one who will ever be able to know it, with no documents holding any form of a dictionary.”

The clap-back was real, and Troy was only happy that he was not getting involved. There was nothing hidden behind the words, Dr Hale showing off just how much she was being underestimated. Though there was always the chance of her bluffing, those doodles being nothing more than what they looked to be. A red herring, so to speak. Dr Fidelis clearly wasn't looking to understand this possibility, the man narrowing his eyes as if the pages would make more sense if he did.

“... You might just have me stumped. If the foundations for the structure is original as well, it would take… more than what we have currently. The easier option would be to just torture the code out of you. One could say that it would be the most effective algorithm we would have, systematically getting every single word there was out of you. Lie detectors would make any minor changes impossible, and with use of a few additives, you would be spouting everything you ever did in mere hours.” Dr Fidelis surmised quietly, seeming more thoughtful than he should have any right to be, saying things that were more than just disturbing. It terrified Troy, with how nonchalantly the possibilities were discussed. “Though… I guess you would have guessed that alternative better than anybody. Isn't that right, doctor?”

The momentary pause in Dr Hale’s writing made the words set in even more. It made it more obvious that the woman hadn't been lying before. At least with how she got into her profession. But… if one part of the lie was true, why would the other parts not be the same?

“Should we be having this discussion right now, sir?” Dr Hale inquired, quietly resuming her writing. She was hinting at one person in the room, who would have been better off not hearing anything said. Dr Fidelis did glance at Troy at that, clearly getting the message.

“You're right, as always. I really do need to set my eye-sight adjusted, or I just won't notice these things running around me in circles,” Dr Fidelis answered, before turning back towards Troy. “Going away from your temporary deafness, there is something which I have been wanting to talk with you about.”

Act like you didn't hear anything. Troy got the message clearly, having already been in similar situations before. If he was lucky, he might even get himself a bonus on his next pay-check.

“Sorry, my ears were just clogged for a moment,” Troy said apologetically, playing into his role finely. If humour was what was desired, he would bring that wish to fruition to reality with all his might. “What did you need me for?”

“It happens to everyone. Don't worry about it. I was just wondering a little about how it's going when it comes to your interactions with Adam. Outside of testing, I mean,” Dr Fidelis said in clarification. “I have talked a little with the guy as of late. I had been hoping you would be talking with him during that improvised vacation of yours. However, from what I have heard, you have not been talking with him at all.”

“Is that bad?” Troy asked, sounding slightly nervous. “I haven't been in my room much as of late, and that hasn't been giving me much chance to talk with Adam. Should I change that up a bit maybe?”

“Oh, I have nothing against your choices. We can't force you to do anything when you're not on work-time. I just had to make sure you weren't on bad terms with the AI. That would have required some action from my part,” Dr Fidelis answered. “You can just go along to lunch now. We are on a schedule after all. Delays are the worst enemies to have!”

“Won't Dr Hale be going with me, though?” Troy said.

“Oh, no, she’ll be staying here with me during the break. We have some matters to discuss over lunch. You just get back here when you're done eating, okay? Perfect!”

Troy was given a minor push towards the entrance. With a look towards Dr Hale, a look that was not mirrored in the slightest, he moved forwards. At least Charlie would be happy about it.