On their way back to the dorms, female students cheerfully wave and coo at the fuzzy teddy bear. Mr. Wilkins happily greets the female students, waving cutely with his furry paws. #017 snorts under her breath and mutters, “Perverted teddy bear.” Mr. Wilkins glares up at his girl but decides it is better to ignore the ignorant comment of his girl and continued to greet his adoring fans.

The quell of fans doesn’t even dissipate at the dorms, but only further increases. Seeing the wave of fans failing to taper off, #017 drags Mr. Wilkins into the elevator and back to their dorm room to the obvious disappointment of the female masses.

Having checked the door for intrusions by both physical and non-physical means, #017 enters the apartment and lays down on the couch with her arms over her head. Mr. Wilkins eyes his girl and says, “So, what was that about?”

“What was what about?” #017 replied to statement, all the while feigning ignorance.

“You know exactly what I mean, Ragnarök?” Mr. Wilkins flatly enquired.

“Oh that,” #017 muttered. Mr. Wilkins waits for more as he taps his foot pointedly against the floor. #017 sighs as she removes her arms from her face. Sitting up, she leans forward, gazing straight ahead.

“During physical trials of the Project, the physical trials were not limited to sole combatant exercises. There were also team exercises as well,” #017 carefully stated.

“What do you mean by team exercises?” Mr. Wilkins impatiently asked.

“We were at times given objectives to target and test our capabilities against,” #017 matter-of-factly stated.

Mr. Wilkins is silent for a moment as his eyes widen in understanding. “What did you do, Seventeen!” Mr. Wilkins demanded to know.

“We were assigned physical targets, Wilkins. Ragnarök was the term given to one such mission,” #017 firmly answered as Mr. Wilkins edgily waits for his girl to continue.

“As usual we were assigned a target to destroy. The facility chosen was known with the codename, Ragnarök for the deadly pandemic viruses being created therein the faculty. The facility was located in a disclosed location in the Amazon jungle. Per protocol, we entered the facility without being noticed and were in the process of destroying the evidence. The evidence included test subjects which many of them were children being tested on. The orders given stated the explicit destruction of all evidence including that of subjects.”

Mr. Wilkins lets out a breath of horror as #017 drily continues, “During the process of methodical destruction of all evidence, a surprise convoy arrived with three platoons of soldiers. Two platoons were Black Op’s members and the other squad belonged to the Council with their own set of orders: destroy the faculty, capture the scientists and free the prisoners.

Naturally, only one of our goals was aligned with each other, an inevitable opposition would occur upon both parties encountering each other. And as predicted, our two forces encountered each other and jumped into open combat without question. We were merely proceeding with our orders, while they were under the assumption we were their enemies.

New orders were speedily added in addition to our previous orders in existence, exterminate all new witnesses with the explicit added detail, there could be no evidence left behind of the existence of PROJECT CYPHER. And so, we did,” #017 stated only pausing for a moment to gain breath before continuing, “During the process of destruction, we encountered the 3rd squad, a particularly difficult squad to deal and given the time constraint impossible to deal with.

Seeing the stalemate situation and under a strict time constraint, new orders were given. We were ordered to prematurely detonate the explosive device within the facility. To comply, the project’s team was split into two. Half of the members would ensure the detonation and the other half would destroy the remaining evidence.

I was assigned to the detonation team and was to carve a path to the detonation location. During my rush, I encountered a rather difficult fellow to deal with and given the time constraints, I resorted to dirty tactics to gain an upper edge during our tussle. At the first opportunity given, I crammed my finger into his eye socket and crushed his left eye. My ploy was successful and he released me. I managed to enter the room and reset the timer to ten seconds. With only seconds left, I cleared the room and leaped through a window into the jungle below. Shortly thereafter, there was a massive explosion destroying the entire facility.

I had no idea, he had survived the incident, but it would appear he recognizes me. He can’t be certain given my name and change in appearance, but he suspects. He could prove troublesome to deal with if I remain here for a prolonged exposure, but given the time frame, I believe that should not be a problem in the long run. As long as I continue to cling to my identity as Atlas Starr’s daughter, Atlas reputation should be sufficient to deal with the situation. And if worst comes to worst, I will eliminate him,” #017 matter-of-factly stated.

Mr. Wilkins opens and closes his mouth in horror. “The subjects were merely children!” Mr. Wilkins hissed.

“Yes, children, who had a deadly virus incubating inside of them, Wilkins. There was no cure for them and had they been permitted to return to the outside world, they would have contaminated and killed many,” #017 reported.

“You can’t be certain there wasn’t a cure!” Mr. Wilkins shouted.

“Yes, I can, Wilkins. The files and on staff scientists confirmed that there were no cures to the created viruses only methods to increase the mutation to boost the deadliness of the virus and lower the incubation period,” #017 firmly said.

Mr. Wilkins opens and closes his mouth as #017 softly said, “It had to be done, Wilkins.”

Mr. Wilkins lowers his head and asks, “How many other such exercises were there?

“A dozen,” #017 answered.

“And were they all like this?”

“No, the majority went smoothly with the minimum of casualties or such immediate destruction of life.”

“Is that all?” Mr. Wilkins asked after a moment, staring his girl in the face.

#017 is silent for a moment and says, “Wilkins, I can neither confirm nor deny such a statement.”

Mr. Wilkins narrows his eyes and says, “Then just what are you withholding back from me, Seventeen?”

#017 doesn’t answer and rises to her feet. She heads to the kitchen and pulls out food from the fridge to make a sandwich. Mr. Wilkins stares, but his glares do little to make her speak or change her mind. Mr. Wilkins can only remain in silence and watch as his girl prepares a sandwich. That was all he could in these circumstances.