It was a bright and sunny afternoon. The sun just barely tipped over its precipice onto the latter half of the day. Although this part of the world was rather tranquil, it did not want for activity. Inside a large military facility, many people went about their daily business.

It all centered around the motor pool. Soldiers ran this way and that attending to their individual tasks, all of which contributed to the success of the team as a whole. Mechanics worked an a couple vehicles whom had seen better days. An army had to be mobile, after all, and working men like them were the only things connecting their comrades to such a vital lifeline. Among the more standard working mooks were a few scattered scientists, betrayed by their white lab coats. They also had their own jobs to do, and today was a big day.

Off to one side of the motor pool, seemingly oblivious to all which went on around him, was Dr. Vahlen. He leaned up against a raggedy old truck, caring not about the way it messed up his own lab coat. In light of everything which was going on, a little dust seemed a trivial matter. He crossed his arms. This would not be a good day. Neither would the next. Nor the entire week, for that matter.

Light slowly filled the room from the bottom up. The sound of a huge garage door opening dominated over the din of hands diligently working. The moment it stopped, the low rumble of a large engine replaced it. The vehicle advanced into the area, motor noise bouncing off the hard walls. When it had completely entered, the door began to descend behind it. From the top down, outside light vanished from the room.

The truck stopped. Dr. Vahlen listened as several pairs of boots hit the ground one right after another. There was a slight delay before the final soldier exited the truck. He walked about a pace slower than the others, the reason for which presented itself almost immediately. A small voice piped up from this man's location.

"Where am I? What is this place?" The child was desperate, afraid and uncertain. "Hey! Hey, answer me! I wanna go home—" An audible slap shut him up. The boy remained silent after that. Vahlen scowled. He didn't like it when the soldiers hit his children.

Vahlen took deep, soothing breaths. His free time was about to come to an end, so he wanted to make the most of it. His ears honed in on the slower footfalls of the soldier and child. He knew exactly where they were going, and where that place was in relation to himself. With every step they took closer to their destination, Vahlen's heart progressively sank. Reluctant eyes closed. He wasn't looking forward to this.

A second set of footsteps grew in importance. Unlike the first, these were getting closer. Vahlen scratched the back of his head. It was almost time for him to do his job. Normally, that wouldn't be a reason for dread, but in this instance, it was the last thing he wanted.

The first soldier reached his destination. He dropped off the child and fell into a guard formation with men congregating off to the right side. Now Vahlen dedicated all his attention to the man approaching him. He listened intently to the steps, never once opening his eyes. The man stopped when he finally made it over.

"We're ready, Dr. Vahlen, sir," he said. Vahlen rubbed his eyes.

"Let's just get this over with." He Doctor finally opened his eyes. Together, he and the soldier who summoned him traversed to their shared goal.

Near the far wall, close to the entrance to the facility proper, four guardsmen watched over a group of eight children. The kids were shaken and trembling. They'd just been through individual hells. They had a right to be afraid. It was Vahlen's job as their part time caretaker to ease their doubts, or at least try to. He was never really sure if his attempts succeeded. Most new subjects certainly took their sweet time in coming around to him. Some never did. Those storied few usually didn't last long, though. Rejection of his teachings was a great way to end up dead, through the merit of sheer ignorance.

Dr. Vahlen leaned down to look the first child straight in the eyes. They boy looked away. With a sigh, the Doctor forcibly turned his head back.

"No." He said, moving on to the next. He repeated the process. This kid also looked away, but not for long. Vahlen held his head in place.

"No." Another rejection. Vahlen continued down the line. The next girl, once again, tried to divert her gaze. Vahlen grabbed her before she even managed a half-turn.

"This one."

Vahlen continued to inspect the children. In the end, five of the total eight were selected. Those who were chosen stayed put right where they were. The others were led by a duo of soldiers toward a personnel door leading outside. The Good Doctor took a step back so all the selected individuals could see him easily. Time to deliver his speech.

"Greetings," began the Doctor. This already wasn't going well. "My name is doctor Vahlen. From this day forward, you will be under my care. I know you're afraid. I can't even imagine what you've been through, but you have nothing to fear. This is a safe place, dedicated to the advancement of science and humankind. Together, all of you will make history. We will shape the future of the world, but to do that, I need your unconditional obedience. Do you think you can do that for me?" Vahlen finished his speech the same way the always did, with a rhetorical question. Predictably, and like always, none of he children answered.

"I'll take your silence as a 'yes.' The guards here will show you to your new quarters."

The four guards taking care of the children began leading them through a set of double doors to their right. At the same time, Vahlen started walking back over to his truck. He had no real attachment to the vehicle, it just seemed like a good place to roost since he'd already been there. He wanted a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing on to his office for a little future planning, but it would not work out as such. A familiar graying military man walked up on his right. Dr. Vahlen gave the General a sideways glance.

Gunshots began going off out side. Three rang out at regular intervals as they conversed.

"That went a lot better than I thought it would," commented the General. "My boys still remember the process."

"I hate the way my speech sounds now. It was so much better before." Vahlen replied.

"It sounded fine to me," countered the General. "Although, I don't remember your old speech."

"I don't either, and that's exactly the problem." Vahlen slumped back against the truck, allowing most of his weight to fall on it. Everything about him just screamed tired. "Did I make the right choice, General?"

"You mean finally deciding to go look for new subjects? Hell yes. I just wish you'd done it four years sooner." The General said. Vahlen expelled air from his nose.

"I thought you would say something like that," he scoffed.

"How are things with Twelve?" The General changed the subject. "Has her progress slowed?"

"Not at all. Why do you ask?" At the mention of his favorite student, Vahlen straightened just slightly.

"I'm just trying to figure out why you finally did this after you were so opposed to it for so long."

"She's getting stronger all the time, all the others can't even come close to her, and her fighting is like nothing I've ever seen. I still think she's the breakthrough I'm looking for, but we've made a lot of advancements in the technology since Group D. I need to start testing again." Vahlen glanced up pensively.

"I thought it was something like that," the General responded honestly.

"God..." Vahlen shook his head. "Saying that just now made me realize... can you believe it's been six years since we found her?"

"I wasn't really keeping track," said the General.

"Well, you know what they say, time flies when you're doing science." Vahlen smiled at his own stupid joke. The General was not amused. Vahlen sighed again. "I need to get back to my office." He popped off the truck and began toward the double doors leading out of the garage.

"Of course."

"See you around, General." Vahlen made his way out into the hall. It was a long walk to his office. He would have copious time to loathe the tasks ahead.

…

Three weeks later, Vahlen found himself in the operating room. The past several days had been hard on him, but this day made up for all of it and then some. He was practically giddy with excitement. It was extraordinary, unexplainable, beyond any goal he'd ever set. It was his dream.

Vahlen was not alone in the room. Ayda was with him. She had been strapped into the table, but only her wrists. Unlike with every other time she'd been in this space, on his specific occasion it was voluntary. Something had her powers out of whack, and she wanted to know what it could be. Ayda was stronger than ever before, much more so than all the years past could explain.

Ayda was not the same girl. Four years went by since her fateful bout with Eight. Ayda was now twelve years old. Slightly tall for her age, she had grown into a fine example of a budding young Persian woman. Her features were once again more defined, an excellent prediction for the woman she would become. More than a half decade of intense training kept her strong and slim. She was in better shape than most people twice her age. Her hair, though, remained an unmanageable mess. Although clean, it hadn't been properly cut or cared for. The locks were wild, like a lion's mane.

Dr. Vahlen stood behind her. In his hand was a long, wide, beeping want, not too dissimilar from hand held metal detectors found at airports, although this particular device had a more specialized purpose. Ayda remained perfectly still as he waved it around her head every which way, seemingly with no pattern to his motions. It chimed in even intervals, no deviation from a set rhythm.

The Doctor could barely contain his excitement. He practically bounced around her. The smile on his face was almost creepy. Ayda found his happiness alarming. Usually, things which got Vahlen going meant misfortune for other people. Even though he specifically told her not to talk—because it would mess with her brainwaves—she spoke up anyway.

"What's wrong with me, Doctor?" She tried to open and close her mouth without actually moving her head. She only realized how difficult this would be after the fact.

"Wrong?" Vahlen parroted. "Nothing's wrong. Quite the opposite, actually. This is astounding. I mean, I always theorized it was possible, but I never imagined it would actually happen!"

"What, what happened?" Ayda pressed, hoping to snap him out of whatever daze he was in.

"It's impossible," he ignored her completely. "It's impossible, yet it's right here in front of me. I don't... I don't even know what to say. This is—"

"Doctor!" Ayda shouted. Her volume finally got his attention. Vahlen straightened up and cleared his throat, slowly lowering his wand.

"Right, I'm getting ahead of myself." He took a deep breath. "The implant in your head is completely inactive and, if my instruments are accurate, has been for some time."

"What?" Ayda breathed. "How is that possible?"

"Now you see what I was so worked up about," Vahlen exclaimed briefly. "I don't know how it happened, but I'm not reading any signals from the device itself, and there's no residual EMF knocking around up there, either. For your system to flush all of the electromagnetic radiation given off by the implant, it would have had to be inactive for at least a month."

"But..." Ayda collected her thoughts. "But, I still have my powers." For emphasis, she channeled through the metal operating slab. It gained the signature pulsing purple glow objects gain when energy is fed through them. Vahlen took a tentative step back.

"I know, and that's just it," Vahlen said. Ayda released her connection to the table and it went back to normal. "If my hypothesis is correct, constant influx from the implant has changed something inside you, rendering it redundant. Something happened to make your powers permanent."

"But, how could that even happen?" Ayda asked. "Something inside me changed? What changed?" She was beginning to get worried.

"I don't know that right now, but the first step to finding out is taking that thing out of your head." Vahlen said, as if it were no big deal. To Ayda, though, that statement was the world. Her face lit up in the biggest beam she'd ever smiled.

"You mean—" She began.

"Yes," Vahlen cut her off. "Wouldn't it be nice to finally be rid of your implant?" He said. Ayda didn't answer. "Okay, dumb question. Of course it would. We can operate tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it."

Ayda nodded. "And, I won't lose my powers?"

"The implant is already off, and your abilities are just fine. Physically removing it won't make a difference," explained the Doctor.

"And what'll happen when it's gone?"

"Well, I can't say for certain, but theoretically it would remove your need to rely on energy stored in a battery, so you could produce more blasts without waiting to recharge. That would also mean dedicating more energy to a single blast for more powerful attacks."

Again, Ayda smiled. "Alright, I'm sold. Stronger blasts and more of them sounds great to me."

"Excellent." Vahlen clapped once from satisfaction. "I was hoping you would say that. Like I said, we'll operate tomorrow."

"I can't wait!" Ayda exuded happiness. Vahlen began to unbuckle the restraints at her wrists.

"Just don't eat breakfast tomorrow morning. I'll have the guard bring you when he's done handing it out." The Doctor finished releasing her. Ayda stood. "Oh, and you can be anesthetized this time. You won't feel a thing."

Ayda liked to think she was grown up enough that the pain didn't scare her, but knowing she wouldn't have to deal with it eased her mind considerably.

She followed her escort back to the cell block and eagerly awaited the next day. She was absolutely over the moon with excitement. After all these years, she was finally going to get rid of that accursed thing. And, according to the Doctor, she'd be even stronger without it.

That thought alone appealed to her. Although she didn't like to admit it, being the most powerful among the children made her feel good; it stroked her ego in all the right places. Now, they would be even further below her. Ayda didn't think of herself as a particularly prideful individual, but no person alive hated being the best at what they did. Now, if all of Vahlen's theories held up, there wouldn't be a single thing to hold her back. Ayda needed this to go well. She needed to be free of her strings. Anything less would drive her mad.

…

Ayda didn't remember much about the actual day of the operation. As per Dr. Vahlen's orders, she skipped breakfast and the guard took her straight to the operating room. She met up with the Good Doctor there, and they exchanged some pleasantries, but mostly they both just wanted to get started. There were a few questions to answer about her general health—which was excellent, by the way—and then a simple I.V drip had her drifting away. Ayda didn't dream while under, which was disappointing. She thought she would dream.

Then, for the second time, Ayda found herself waking up in the recovery room after a major brain surgery. Although chemically induced, the process of becoming conscious was much the same as the first time; suspended darkness followed by blurry confusion. This time, although, Ayda was not afraid. She couldn't exactly remember what happened, but it was a good thing.

The world slowly came into focus, both in her eyes and in her mind. As she stared up at the concrete ceiling, washed dull yellow by the single hanging light, Ayda began to remember what happened. Through anesthetic fog she heard Vahlen's words from the day before, talking about her nonfunctional implant. She remembered skipping breakfast that morning and then laying on the operating table for... oh God, the surgery!

Ayda tried to sit up, but was immediately hit with searing pain in her cranium. She instinctively reached up and felt around her head. She found another raised, tender scar but this one was different than what she remembered, as if Vahlen used less barbaric methods this time around. That was good. At least she wouldn't be as badly injured.

Metal, she had to find something made of metal. She looked around the room as much a she could manage without causing herself excruciating pain. The walls and floor were made of concrete, the desk was wood. The light bulb housing was probably metal, but getting up to grab it was currently out of the question. That wasn't good enough. She needed to test her powers now, to see if she still had them to begin with.

Wait a minute, the bed frame! Clumsily, Ayda drooped her arm over the side of the mattress, ignoring the anguish this motion caused. Her hand flopped around clumsily in search of the frame. After a few frantic flails she grabbed onto something round, cold, and hard. Ayda fought against the fog in her mind to remember how her powers worked. She needed the intent to attack. Yes, attack, bring the entire room down if that's what it took. Tension built inside of her, a mixture of strain and panic until...

Release. Power surged through her bones. Endorphins rushed to her head, dulling any pain she felt. Ayda turned her head toward the door, and just barely caught a glimpse of purple pulse in her peripheral vision. It felt different, stronger and more in tune than ever before. Through her foggy cognition, it was obvious she used far less energy to create a stable flow through the bed. What this meant in practice would only be determined with time, but she still had her powers, and that was a major victory.

Although her abilities certainly felt stronger, the first real sign of palpable improvement came in her healing. Normally, she could recover from wounds faster than a regular human, and without the implant to hold her back, this effect saw vast improvement. Whereas the same operation took a whole week to recover from six years ago, now Ayda was up and about in just five days. It was astounding. She longed for something to properly test her powers, an object other than the bed to channel into. Her body yearned to hit something, to blow stuff up just for kicks. But she would have to wait. Vahlen made her stay in recovery for a full seven days as a precautionary measure.

When the end of her confinement rolled around, Ayda was more than raring to go. She was like a racehorse chomping at the bit, longing for the gates to open. She had to know what her new and improved powers were capable of. Her future depended on it. When she received the summons, it took all her willpower to keep from running to the testing chamber. This was the moment she'd been waiting for.

The room was all set up when she got there. Many children—most of them from the older groups—had gathered on the observation deck to witness her first trial. Doubtless, they didn't actually know what they had assembled for. Although she couldn't see them through the blackened glass, with certainty both Vahlen and the General watched her with bated breath.

Ayda took her place in the middle of the room and picked up the staff which had been placed there for her. Instead of the usual eight, twenty pitching machines had been placed around the testing chamber. Ayda looked at each one in turn, taking mental note of their positions. When things finally kicked off, she wouldn't be able to rely much on sound as it would be impossible to discern which machine fired and when through the cacophony.

After a moment, Dr. Vahlen's voice rang through the loudspeaker.

"Children, I bet you're wondering why I gathered you all here today," he began. Ayda rolled her eyes. "Well, the truth is something remarkable has happened. I know how boring my speeches are, so I'll just say we've had a breakthrough. Our star pupil, Subject Twelve, has gone through a metamorphosis of sorts. Her body has changed, and she no longer requires an implant to utilize her powers." Even through the glass and layers of reinforced concrete, the atmosphere noticeably shifted. "This will be her first test with the implant completely removed from her head. Are you ready, Twelve?"

"Born ready," Ayda said, lifting her staff into a ready position.

"Very well. Commence reflexes test one, implant removed."

The pitching machines came to life, immense mechanical whine enough to reverberate off the walls. Ayda widened her stance just slightly. She would need balance in just a few short seconds. Energy pulsed purple through her staff. She was ready.

The test did not start out slow. Immediately, several pitching machines fired upon her with nary a pause between their individual assaults. It was a lot to take in, but Ayda was able to quickly assess the situation and act against it. She began her staff in a smooth twirl. One right after another she knocked away the rubber missiles, never missing a beat. Her attack was one clean sweep. Every rotation flowed into the next baseball in order of proximity; a blast accentuated each hit. After the volley, Ayda glanced up into the kids' observation deck. More than one jaw lay on the floor. Even the soldiers were impressed. She smirked.

The second volley came, more intense than the last. Although there were more projectiles to deal with, Ayda found it no more difficult than the first. This time, she put focus on reflecting the baseballs rather than just getting rid of them. Again, not a single assailant broke her defense. While most defeated balls simply bounced off the walls, two returned to their homes. Such velocity did they carry, their impacts destroyed both their pitching machines outright. The two contraptions crumpled around where the baseballs hit, crashing to the ground.

From there, things ramped up considerably. The machines fired in a constant barrage. Not a moment passed when there weren't multiple balls flying through the air. Ayda's eyes narrowed in sinister concentration. She pivoted and twirled her staff in a dizzying display of metal and purple shockwaves. She was astounding, flawless. The world almost moved in slow motion around her. Reaction time of this magnitude would never have been possible with the implant limiting her power.

Not a single ball made it through. Almost every one was met by a blast. Those which weren't Ayda simply knocked away with her staff. There were occasional yet clear lapses in her blasts where she had to build up more energy. Vahlen was right in saying removing the implant took away her battery limit, but it took a certain amount of energy to produce a blast in the first place, so if she used all of it to make a blast, she would have to stop and wait to build up more. Ayda took special note of this. With practice and proper discipline, the problem could be negated entirely. She had more pressing matters at the moment, however.

After a few more pitchers fell to her wrath, it became clear Ayda had a specific goal in mind. One by one the pitching machines met a grizzly fate, reduced to scrap metal under the weight of her onslaught. The attack was relentless, her aim deadly. While most balls missed, those which flew in a correct way to be redirected promptly found themselves fused with a hunk of steel.

Not even a minute passed before only one pitching machine remained functional, all the others having been destroyed. Ayda faced it, staff held defensively at arm's length in a diagonal line from right shoulder to left hip. The machine fired. Ayda readied herself. In the end, she didn't even bother with her weapon, deciding at the last second it was unnecessary. She created a blast with her palm and turned away a moment later. Behind her back, the final pitching machine twisted around itself. Bits of metal broke off and sprayed against the wall. Her work was done. The opposition lay broken at her feet.

There was a poignant suspension as the dust settled and the room quieted down. No one could really believe what they just saw. An astonished Vahlen broke the silence, his voice crackling through the loud speaker.

"That was... fast," he said. "Absolutely amazing, Twelve. I'd say you far exceeded my expectations. I wish you hadn't destroyed the pitching machines, but it's not like we can't get more." He paused. "I guess this concludes our test. The guards will escort you back to your quarters."

Two soldiers entered the testing chamber, stepping over mangled hunks of machine and metal. Ayda made no attempt to acknowledge their presence. She remained motionless in the center of the room, staff at her side, head slightly forward, face concealed by her long dark hair.

This was different. Normally, she would have complied with such simple orders, not stood in direct defiance of them. The soldiers, professional operators that they were, picked up on her unusual behavior almost immediately. They stopped a few feet away from her. One of them, the more overzealous of the two, raised his rifle. The other maintained a more level head. After a display like that, he figured antagonizing her would be a bad idea.

"Drop the weapon, Twelve," he said in his most authoritative voice. Ayda completely ignored him. She made not a motion, barely seemed to breathe. He rattled his weapon for emphasis, shouldering it. Now they both trained their weapons on her. "I said drop the weapon, now!"

"Do as your told, girl," Vahlen menaced like the voice of an evil god.

"You," Ayda said, "your voice. I recognize your voice. You killed my parents." She spoke in low, ominous tones.

"What?" The soldier lowered his weapon slightly. Its barrel was no longer pointed at her.

"Six years ago," Ayda clarified. "Do you remember?"

"I don't—"

"I could never forget. I hear that voice every night in my dreams."

"Twelve..." Vahlen warned.

"Are my powers really permanent, Doctor?" She shook her head. "No, don't answer that. It doesn't really matter right now."

"Just calm down, Twelve. Let's talk." Vahlen tried to defuse the situation.

"When I was laying in recovery, I thought about a lot of things; I thought about those electric shocks you gave us every day to turn the implants on. I don't need those anymore, do I? The worst mistake you ever could've made was taking that thing out of my head because, Dr. Vahlen," she looked up at his viewing box.

"I don't need you anymore."

"Guards, subdue her!" Vahlen screamed.

All at once the soldiers opened fire, but Ayda was faster than they could ever hope to be. Ayda clearly saw every shot they took. She twirled her staff rapidly. Tiny blasts deflected the bullets. Just like with the baseballs, her reaction time and precision were both impeccable. Bullets were useless against her.

In two clean steps, she closed the distance between herself and the troopers. They stopped firing when she was within strike distance, knowing their guns would be worthless at such close range. Ayda sliced laterally to the soldier at her right, the first one to raise his weapon, with a blast to the side that instantly cracked his spine.

Twirling her staff, she knocked the remaining man's weapon from his grasp. It fell to the floor with a loud clink. He took a step back in an attempt to avoid her punishment, but it was all in vain. Ayda stabbed forward. A small and concentrated blast on the tip of her staff allowed it to pass clean through the man's torso.

His face was trapped in an expression of pure terror. Ayda stepped closer, running her staff further through him. Their heads were mere inches apart. She spoke softly, words intended only for him, the man who murdered her parents.

"Tell my father I'm sorry."

She extracted her staff and the man fell to the ground, slowly bleeding and dying. It was far more than he deserved. Ayda bent down and took his sidearm, inspecting the weapon for a second to disengage the safety. She stood sideways and held the gun in one hand, arm fully outstretched. She pointed it directly at Dr. Vahlen's black window.

"You once said you were always in control. How could you hope to control me, Doctor, when you can't do anything to stop me?"

She pulled the trigger.