With the first day of classes finally over, Mr. Wilkins and #017 retire to their quarters, room #113 in the student dorms. #017 takes a step out of the elevator and stares at the silent hallway for a second too long. Mr. Wilkins stares in confusion not detecting a moving being or anything that would raise an alarm. #017 stops and stares at the door of their dorm room, 113. #17 glances down at the door hinge, a tiny of piece of paper is still stuck between the door hinges, but on the floor below lay a broken piece of mechanical pencil lead.

Mr. Wilkins narrows his eyes at #017’s stillness and unhappily says, “There’s no one inside I already checked.”

“Run another scan for me,” #017 firmly reputed.

Mr. Wilkins huffs in reply and does as asked by his girl. No bugs or surveillance tools show up on his radar. “Nothing there,” Mr. Wilkins replied as #017 touches the VEX watch to the biometric system and the door unlocks.

Mr. Wilkins glares up at #017, who flatly says, “Yes, but there was someone who entered relatively undisturbed. I thought you added a layer of protection to the biometric system?”

Mr. Wilkins sputters in protest. “Impossible! My detection-,” Mr. Wilkins voice stutters as his system scans the log. There had been an unexpected intrusion rewritten as dorm maintenance service. It shouldn’t have been possible, but somehow the system had been overwritten.

“It would seem your assurances were wrong, Wilkins. For hating such inelegant methods, at least they get the job done unlike your choices,” #017 icily said. Mr. Wilkins remains silent as #017 closes the door behind her and studies the area. “There aren’t obvious signs of a search, but given the state of the door, we are dealing with a professional. Did you access the elevator footage?” #017 asked as she places Mr. Wilkins onto a couch.

Mr. Wilkins is silent as he runs various security checks and complying with the request. “The maintenance figure could be anyone as the figure their gaze down and their face is never captured on film. That is if that is their actual face and not a disguise,” Mr. Wilkins summarized.

“Yes, I would imagine so. Such a rookie mistake wouldn’t be committed by someone of their caliber,” #017 drily said as she took a seat on the couch. Glancing up at the ceiling, #017 is silent for a moment, before saying, “Wilkins, run a check on the vents and inner floors and walls of the room.”

Mr. Wilkins immediately does as requested sending nanobots from his core to check every square inch. The minutes tick by until he finds almost thread-like wires set up into the vents and mechanical pencil sized erasers drilled into the wall. Without a word, he effortlessly has the nanobots directly infiltrate into the devices for control.

“Done, I took care of them. There is a mesh of wiring in the vents for unknown uses except they are not listening devices and the rest are surveillance devices,” Mr. Wilkins taciturnly said.

“Yes, I imagine so. Don’t destroy the feed, just merely block it as needed. I am sure you can create conversations to be projected in our instead by simply using your software system. However, I do want you to track the feedback to the source and infiltrate their systems. Afterwards, we will decide what to do,” #017 matter-of-factly replied.

Mr. Wilkins does so splitting his conscious into parts and following the systems back to their place of origin. With great care, he piggybacks signals and systems to reach the place of destination. While they wait, #017 asks, “So what do you think?”

Mr. Wilkins automatically replies, “You already reviewed the listing of prisoners and agreed that there were no official extractions or records other than a massive payment to Warden Walters that could have been for anyone.”

“Though I agree, I am unable to shake an uneasy feeling, Wilkins and I have learned to trust those feelings. Check again,” #017 demanded. Mr. Wilkins sighs to himself and does as asked spreading himself into another part to check for said information.

An hour goes by but Mr. Wilkins had yet to successfully infiltrate the enemy’s systems. Exasperated Mr. Wilkins says, “I still can’t get into their systems. But regarding your other request, there is nothing new or any other change indication such an action another than an addition of guards to floors 3 and 7.”

#017 sits up and asks, “Did you say floors 3 and 7?”

“Yes,” Mr. Wilkins grumbled.

“What specific quadrant?”

Mr. Wilkins pauses to check. “Quadrants 100 to 105 and quadrant 75 to 80. The other two quadrants on floor 3 are easier to pinpoint. The first quadrant is 56 and 57, then the second quadrant is only a single occupant, #32.”

#017 sits up and says, “Did you say, 56 and #32?” At the comment of #32, #17’s hand reflexively touches her stomach feeling an old phantom wound act up.

Mr. Wilkins pauses and stares. “Yes, those were part of the quadrants.”

“Get out, right now, Mr. Wilkins!” #017 hastily said.

Mr. Wilkins protests, “But I’m almost there!”

“Get out, now, Wilkins, it’s a trap. Destroy the surveillance items now!” #017 shouted.

Mr. Wilkins nanobots hurriedly corroded through the cores of the surveillance items as Mr. Wilkins hastily retracts back from the infiltration of the foreign systems. #017 grabs the still figure of Wilkins and vaults over the couch in a single leap, dashing to the closest room with a door.

The nanobots manage to reach all the cores except for one. The nanobots unable to flee cling to the glowing cores and damage the core as much as possible. With a kick to the bathroom door and another kick to slam it shut, #17 dives into the bathtub and covers her ears. She slightly opens her mouth to aid with the pressure in her ears and brain, lest her brains explode out her ears.

A muffled explosion is suddenly heard from the vents releasing a very small explosion level. One of the vents to the room tears off and releases a large amount of smoke. #017’s ears ring, but other than a large amount of smoke entering the room, there wasn’t any structural damage to the room.

Coughing with eyes watering, the vents kick in as the smoke alarm detectors begin to flash in her room. #017 makes her way out of the room as the vents greedily suck in the smoke, but still release small puffs of smoke into the room. #017 waves her hand and breathlessly says, “Like I said, I told you I had a bad feeling.”

Mr. Wilkins is silent for a moment, before saying, “They destroyed some of my body nanobots, I’m going to kill them.”

“You wouldn’t be the first’s that’s tried. And trust me when I say this, those two are just about as hard to kill as me, with #32 being the worst of them both. The bombs were certainly 56’s doing, but the infiltration of the systems seemed to straightforward to me. It was a distraction and perhaps even a trap, and only one person loves to play such games with their opponents, #32,” #017 calmly stated as her hand rubs the phantom wound on her stomach that is currently experiencing phantom pains. #017 pauses and glances towards Mr. Wilkins. “If anything, ever happens to me, Wilkins get the hell out and keep running. You won’t be safe if they can get to me.”

Mr. Wilkins stares in shock at the serious expression on his girl’s face. #017 gravely continues, “I mean it, Wilkins, this is not a request but an order. And even more importantly, when #32 and I meet, which we will and when that happens, you must immediately flee. I can’t afford to be distracted when facing him.”

Mr. Wilkins dumbly nods and opens his mouth to speak when a knock is heard at the door. Mr. Wilkins warily tenses as the voice of Matron Tilly can be heard through the door. “Is everything all right dear, the smoke detectors went off on this floor.”

#017 marches to the door and flings it open. Matron Tilly coughs and says, “What happened here?”

“I wanted to eat popcorn and I accidentally left Mr. Wilkins in charge of the popcorn of the pan, while I unpacked a last-minute item. I guess he must have forgotten to check the popcorn, because when I returned the popcorn was on fire and the smoke detector had gone off,” #017 lied with a straight face.

Matron Tilly nods and points her finger at Mr. Wilkins. “Mr. Wilkins, shame on you. Not to worry my dear, I’ll report the situation. Is there anything else you need?” Matron Tilly kindly asked.

#017 shakes her head in reply. “We’re fine, but thank you,” #017 firmly said.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll go,” Matron Tilly said seeing that the smoke was almost gone from the hallway behind Miss Starr.

#017 waves goodbye to Matron Tilly until she enters the elevator. Tuning on her heels, #017 closes the door and places Mr. Wilkins on the floor. Mr. Wilkins grumbles to himself, “How come I’m to blame?”

“Because you didn’t trust my judgment,” #017 replied causing Mr. Wilkins to stiffen in reply.

Determined to prove his girl wrong, Mr. Wilkins immediately fixes the broken vent, before preparing a simple meal for his girl. All the while, his girl stares at the wall in deep thought as Mr. Wilkins searches for more information on the two convicts. His ears twitch, startled at what he finds. The records of 56 were petrifying, but there wasn’t a single record on #32. But if that was the case, then just how did his girl know #32?