Ayda found herself sitting alone in a dimly lit room, barren except for her own chair, a metal desk, and a second seat on the other side of it. The irony of the current situation was not lost on her. After spending so much time in similar environments, Ayda once again was forced to deal with yellow bathed concrete walls. There was one distinct difference, however, one thing which made all the difference in the world. For the first time in forever, she felt safe.

It had been two days since her bold attack against Dr. Vahlen and his minions, two full cycles of the moon since she led her people to freedom. A large portion of the first was spent in transit. The military, after thoroughly exploring the facility, had loaded the children on two gigantic helicopters.

It was the exploration, though, which concerned Ayda most on the first day. With so many soldiers flooding through the space, it only took a few hours to cover every inch of it. Ayda filled the role of tour guide, bringing Colonel Hammond through each of the important rooms such as the testing chamber, cell block, and recovery rooms. For some reason, Hammond was also interested in places Ayda would not have deemed interesting such as the mess hall and crew quarters, the former of which had been mostly destroyed in a battle Ayda knew nothing of.

Hammond also demanded a demonstration of her abilities. Ayda saw this coming from the moment she contacted the base. The story of the children was an extraordinary one. There would need to be proof. Ayda happily provided.

Since the motor pool was one of the only large rooms not in danger of collapsing, the demonstration took place in there. Many soldiers gathered to witness the spectacle. They formed a wide circle around Ayda. She kept the display simple, a few big blasts, deflecting rocks thrown by the children, and the like. She would've liked to block some bullets as well, but Hammond understandably wouldn't allow his men to shoot at her.

The Colonel did, however, demand a short combat display. Ayda had explained all of the combat training and trials the children went through, and Hammond wanted to see if she could back up her claims. After all, to take down an entire military base with just a handful of little children required extreme martial mastery. He mustn't have thought too much of her, however, as he only selected one opponent for Ayda to face down.

His rules were simple, no weapons and no blasts. This was a show of technique, not raw power. While taking on a trained United States Marine was not exactly a simple task, Ayda still won the bout handily. The soldier was more than a little embarrassed at getting his ass handed to him by a young girl. He'd probably never hear the end of it. She almost felt bad for him.

That seemed to satisfy the Colonel. He informed the children transportation had already been requested, and would arrive after a while. All they had to do was be patient. For Ayda, the wait was almost unbearable. She wanted nothing more than to finally leave the facility, and never look back.

The helicopters arrived early in the morning, before the sun had risen. Everyone, children and soldiers, camped out in the motor pool because—again—it was the only room large enough to hold them which was not in danger of falling apart. A part of Ayda was proud of the destruction her minions had caused. They had a lot of strength stored up in those little bodies.

When transport finally arrived, the kids were roused and promptly loaded onto the aircraft. At first Ayda was skeptical whether or not all of them would it on just two helicopters, but after seeing the size of them, her suspicions were promptly put to rest. They had to be packed in kind of tight, but all of the youngsters did make it onto the two vehicles.

After several hours they arrived at a military base. Ayda was completely flabbergasted with the place. It was a huge campus, containing a few different large buildings. People were everywhere, going about their daily business. It seemed a rather busy place. The size of it intimidated Ayda. She could probably take ten steps in the wrong direction and get hopelessly lost.

The choppers set down one after another on a helipad. After the first group disembarked, they were moved off to make room for the second. When both had gathered into one collection, they were shepherded off to what Ayda assumed was a barracks.

There they stayed for the remainder of the day. The local personnel gave them a wide berth, probably from instruction. Base medical staff called the children away in small groups for quick check-ups. The procedure was not too invasive. The nurses checked for signs of physical harm, ran tests of blood pressure and glucose, drew blood for analysis, and generally made sure the children were okay. The general consensus here was surprise. They probably expected the children to be in much worse shape from living in such terrible conditions. Dr. Vahlen made sure his children stayed healthy. Sick test subjects were useless to him, after all.

Not much happened after that. The children were placed under guarded supervision, but the soldiers didn't try to enforce any strict rules. Basically, they just couldn't leave. Ayda was fine with that. She expected some sort of crackdown. They were an unknown, and had to be treated as such. For the time, Ayda just enjoyed the freedom. She could finally walk around and speak with whoever she wanted. They seemed small things, but to her they were great luxuries.

The nighttime accommodations were not quite as nice. There weren't enough beds on site for the children to sleep in, so they had to camp out on the barracks floor. Ayda hated to admit it, but she was used to such treatment. She'd been sleeping on the floor for quite a while. A few more nights wouldn't hurt her.

The next morning, shortly after breakfast, a soldier was sent for her. And, that's how Ayda ended up in her current dimly lit room. Not much context had been given, except that Colonel Hammond wanted to speak with her. She remained on edge. In her experience, waiting around in settings like this never led to good things. If the time came, Ayda had to be ready to fight.

Without warning, the door opened. Hammond walked in, carrying a small white envelope in his left hand. The door swung freely closed behind him. He did not acknowledge her presence as he entered the room, only spoke a single word.

"Sit.," Hammond said, moving around to the opposite side of the desk. Defiantly, Ayda remained standing. "Sit down, Ayda," he repeated. Still, she remained upright.

"Am I in trouble?" She asked.

"No, not at all." Hammond took his seat behind the desk. "It's just easier to look you in the eye, if we're both sitting down." He gestured toward the chair behind her. Ayda plopped back down upon it.

"Then, why did you separate me from the other children?"

"I thought it would be best if we could talk alone," the Colonel said. "We have a lot to discuss."

"Like what?" Ayda crossed her arms, impatient.

"Like what we're gonna do with you." Hammond leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I don't think I need to tell you, you're a special case. The other children are being relocated around the country after their implants are removed, but we can't exactly do that with you. So, we had to think of some alternate options."

Colonel Hammond slid the thing he'd been holding in his hand across the table to her. Ayda stopped it just before it could fall off the edge. Holding it in her hand, she could see it was an envelope of some sort, made from paper long cut and cheap. She opened the flat fold and extracted the contents, a slip of white paper with a bunch of words on it she didn't really understand, something about gates and a seat number. She glanced up at the old man.

"What is this?" She questioned.

"A plane ticket," Hammond responded simply. "Congratulations, you're going to America. El Puerto Texas, to be exact."

Ayda's heart skipped a beat. Did she hear that right? No, there must have been some mistake. The Colonel sneezed, or something.

"America..." she breathed. "But, that's so far away. Why would you send me there?"

"We don't have enough of a presence here anymore to keep an eye on you, so we chose the next best option." Hammond explained. "There were some concerns about—"

"Keep an eye on me?" Ayda interrupted. "What, like some sort of prisoner? You wanna watch me every second of the day? No, Colonel, I won't have your goons following me everywhere I go."

"Of course not," Hammond shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying." He paused. "You're not under surveillance. Think of it more like probation. You're free to do whatever you like—within reason—but break the law, and there will be consequences."

"So I'm a slave, then." Ayda challenged. "You want me to live my life according to your rules. I won't bend to your beck and call, I've had enough of that!" Ayda crunched the envelope in her hand. She was just inches away from channeling her power and leveling the place. She couldn't believe her ears! After everything Hammond saw just the previous day, he was trying to put her in another cell?

"No one's trying to control you, Ayda." The Colonel's voice took on a startling gentleness. "After everything you've been through, I want you to live a normal life, to have a childhood, but we can't have someone with your considerable... abilities running around without supervision. You have the freedom to choose whatever you want for your life, we just need to make sure you don't step out of line."

"That doesn't sound like freedom to me," Ayda muttered under her breath. She looked at the Colonel. "What if I refuse? You just said I'm allowed to choose, so what if I don't go to America? What if I stay here instead?"

"Well, that's a bit more complicated," Hammond sighed. "If you stay on the base, you will remain a military asset. In that case, you will be confined to the base, you will be under constant surveillance, and you will most likely be forced to participate in military operations."

"And you really think I'd just let you do that to me?" Ayda sat back and crossed her legs, bouncing her foot in agitation. She met the Colonel's gaze with the most confident expression she could muster. Hammond, however, remained stone calm.

"I'm gonna put this as plainly as I can, Ayda." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't make an enemy of the United States. You're strong, no doubt about it, but even you can't take on an entire military by yourself. If you become a threat to national security, we won't hesitate to take you out. "

With that statement, Hammond plaid all his cards. Everything was laid out on the table. These were the exact terms of his deal. Ayda looked down at her feet, seriously considering her options.

The Colonel was right, of course. Pacifying a single, understaffed military outpost had been difficult enough, and Ayda only managed it with the help of several other super powered children. She could never hope to fight off an entire country, let alone the most powerful one in the world. Her heart sank. After such a natural high from conquering Dr. Vahlen, her future was once again out of her control.

"I don't really have choice, do I?" She said without looking up.

"No, not really," Hammond agreed. "Not this time."

"If I go to America, what am I allowed to do?"

"Anything," the Colonel began simply. "You can go out with your friends, go to school, go to college, get a job, have a family with whoever you want; you have the same rights and privileges as any American Citizen. The government will not interfere with your daily life. Our Constitution forbids it. It's your life to live any way you see fit, period." Hammond spoke in a strong tone with exactly the correct terminology. He certainly had a way with words.

"I'm assuming that excludes who I really am?"

"Not necessarily." Hammond took a deep breath. "Yes, the bigwigs want to see you brought to heel. They want you to quit using your powers entirely. I, on the other hand, think that's bullshit. It would be like making a perfectly capable person use a wheelchair. I fought for a better deal, but they shot me down. So, instead, I'm offering you something more private, just between the two of us."

"I'm listening."

"I'm a military man. I understand what the politicians want never works in real life. So, I know it's impossible to stop you from using your powers. Accidents happen, and there may be situations where it's unavoidable. As the person in charge of your case, I officially can't allow any use of your powers. Unofficially... just don't let me know it was you. The greatest talent of the American government is it can cover-up pretty much anything. That includes you."

Ayda looked again at the ticket. Subconsciously, she'd kept from damaging it. Although made of simple paper, it seemed so heavy, as if the weight of her future piled on top of it. She didn't think the Colonel—or the United States, for that matter—really wanted to hurt her. They were giving her an opportunity to start fresh, to at least partially regain the life she never had. And, the Colonel offered her some form of amnesty. It was all under the table, of course, but it was still something. Besides, she'd lived with illicit, secretive dealings before. Six years of them, in fact.

While Ayda didn't necessarily enjoy the idea of leaving behind the only place she'd ever known, staying in Iran was not an option, either. She'd already been subject to the whims of a greater power. She refused to do so again. Put like that, only one real option remained the logical choice.

"Okay, I'll do it," she said with a quick nod. "I'll go to America."

In that moment, Hammond did something Ayda never in a thousand years could have predicted. He smiled.

"You made the right decision, Ayda," he said, standing up. "Your flight leaves tomorrow night. Everything you need to know is on your ticket. I'll leave you alone for now. I know you must need some time to process all this and no one will bother you in here. When you're ready, just find one of the men and he'll lead you back to the others."

And with that, Hammond departed. For a third time, Ayda inspected her ticket. America, huh? In her wildest dreams, she never expected to actually get a chance to go there. Now, it would be her new home. Home. That word hadn't meant anything to her for six years. But, given her new future and all the possibilities it brought, home was the only word which mattered to her. What kind of people would she meet there? Left to roam around in the land of the free, what kind of person would she become?

…

Compared to the helicopters, Ayda's fist time on an airplane was absolutely pleasant. It was a smooth ride, not much louder or more uncomfortable than an automobile. There were relatively few other passengers, as well. Strangely, international flights from Iran to Texas weren't very popular. Other than that, she spent most of the time sleeping. The plane seats made comfortable beds, especially when compared to the concrete floors she was accustomed to.

Ayda had anticipated excitement over her first flight, but in reality the only thing she could feel was nervous. She was nervous about going to America, nervous about whoever her new caretakers would be, and nervous about adjusting as a foreigner to a new society. She knew next to nothing about America, its people and customs. How could she ever hope to fit in?

Flying quickly lost its luster when Ayda realized she had nothing to do. Most of her time was spent asleep not because she was tired, but because she was bored out of her mind. Staring out the window to marvel at how high up she was could only hold her attention so long. No one else sat in the row with her. The closest person was two seats ahead, and she didn't feel like yelling up to talk to him. Besides, he probably had better things to do if the buds in his ears were any indication.

The Colonel could have given her a book or something to look at. But, the only thing she received was a haircut and a white dress with a winding rose pattern to wear. While she liked the current length of her hair—just past her shoulders—the dress was utterly ridiculous. After so much time wearing baggy pants, she felt exposed in such flowy clothing.

The craft finally made landfall at around three o'clock PM local time. That was what the pilot said, but it felt so much earlier to Ayda. The deplaning process was a bit hectic. Everyone just kinda got up and filled the aisle all at once. Ayda followed suit, shuffling her way to the center of the craft. She hadn't the faintest idea what she was doing, but everyone else seemed to, so following their example made the most logical sense. After a moment of standing around confused, the door was open and the people began flooding out. Ayda allowed herself to be swept up by the current.

Immediately out of the fuselage Ayda was met with a long corridor which cut sharply to the right at its end. Again, she simply followed the people in front of her, doing her best to not fall behind. Although, about halfway through she realized how pointless this was. The way out was a single path with no deviations. Even getting off the plane was only accomplished in one direction. Why follow these people? Where else could she possibly go? Ayda found herself much more at ease with this revelation. Airports weren't that hard.

All that confidence vanished, however, the moment she exited the corridor. Before her was the widest open hallway she'd ever seen. She stopped dead in her tracks, brown eyes triple their normal circumference. It was actually two joining passages which met at an obtuse angle at their respective end and beginning, a wide seating area where the two converged. There were people absolutely everywhere. They moved in a dizzying crisscross of paths, mostly individuals although some were obvious groups.

Ayda stared at them, utterly baffled. This was easily the most puzzled she'd ever felt. Battles and training exercises were simple dealings in comparison. Where was she supposed to start? How could anyone even come close to navigating such a space with confidence? A person could walk these floors for a hundred years and never memorize the layout. And, judging by the size of the facility while they approached from the air, this was only a miniscule fraction of it. Airports were absolutely impossible.

She whipped her head left to right a few times, desperately searching for a hint as to her next step. After a few frantic takes, her eyes fell upon an American family. A man, his wife, and their daughter; they stood off to the left side of the gate. The girl held in her hands a piece of white poster paper which said one word in big black letters: Ayda.

Colonel Hammond had mentioned them in names and descriptions she didn't remember. In all the excitement, she'd forgotten.

The man was a ruggedly handsome older gentleman, clean-shaven and hair graying in patches. He had a strong jaw and gentle green eyes. The mother and daughter could have been sisters, if the former were not clearly so much older. They had the same hair, the same body type, the same basic facial structure, and even the same nose. The eyes were different though. In that respect, the daughter took after her father. Her blonde locks had been tied into a single braid, which she draped over her shoulder. She looked to be just a couple years older than Ayda herself.

Ayda hesitated, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of them. Something about this family intimidated her. They were just so... happy. All three of them wore welcoming smiles, which only grew when she turned her gaze to them. They knew she'd spotted them. Ayda felt cornered. A hundred different decisions all ran though her head, and none of them made sense. Maybe if she dashed back onto the plane it would take her back.

Too late. In the light of her hesitation, the family started moving toward her. Red flags went up in every inch of Ayda's brain. She wasn't ready. Escape was the only option, except it wasn't. She locked eyes with the daughter, and all of a sudden everything within her calmed. Something about the compassion in her face, a sort of pure kindness Ayda had never witnessed before. She didn't know these people, had zero good reason to trust them, and yet she did. She just knew they didn't want to hurt her. Ayda stood with her feet parallel and tried to look as calm as possible while they approached.

"Ayda?" Asked the father after the family had all stopped within an acceptable speaking distance. "My name is Bernard Belmont. This is my wife, Emma, and our daughter, Jacqueline." He gestured to each of them in turn. "We'll be taking care of you while you stay here in the States."

He beamed warmly at her. Emma, the older woman, nodded reassuringly. Out of the three, Ayda found her by far the most frightening. She radiated with the grace and beauty of a goddess.

There was no time to ponder this, however, as the daughter, Jacqueline, approached. The girl came to a stop just a couple feet away, far past Ayda's comfort zone. She took a small step back, unable to keep the uncertainty from her expression. Normally, people who got this close either meant her harm or wanted something. Ayda reminded herself this was a new place, with much gentler tendencies, but none of it registered.

Without warning or provocation, Jacqueline wrapped her in a tight embrace. Ayda tensed up. Every fiber of her being rejected the contact as self preservation kicked in. She put her hands on the girl's waist, just about to push her off, but then stopped. This action was not an attack, it was a hug. It had been so long, Ayda forgot hugs even existed. Her shoulders drooped, back arched slightly forward. She dropped her hands awkwardly to her sides, unsure of where to put them if not in defense.

"I'm so happy to meet you," Jacqueline said, her voice low and soothing. "I just know we'll be good friends."

Ayda shot a pitiful glance over to the parents. Since violence was not an acceptable way to resolve the situation, her only remaining option was to ask for help.

"Come now, Jackie, don't strangle the poor girl," Bernard said. Jacqueline quickly released her captive. She took a step back and looked at the ground, grinding dirt into the floor with her right foot, color flushed in her pale cheeks.

"Sorry," she said. Ayda didn't respond, only looked on in awe. This girl... she defied explanation. At this point, Ayda wasn't even sure she was human.

Bernard captured both of their attentions. "You must be exhausted after such a long flight, Ayda," he said. "Come, let's get out of this busy place and show you to your new home."

Bernard and his wife turned around and began to walk away, indicating this was not a request. Jacqueline did the same, glancing back at Ayda with a gesture to follow. She did, taking a few quick steps to catch up. She walked just behind the older couple, with Jacqueline at her right shoulder. Bernard continued to converse as they turned down the left passage.

"How was your flight, anyway?"

"Long," Ayda responded simply. "I never realized how long eighteen hours was," she added.

"That sounds terrible," Jackie intoned.

"Your English is great, if you don't mind me saying." Emma changed the subject. "Who taught you?"

"Thanks," Ayda said. "Um, my father was an English teacher, so he taught me English and Persian at the same time, said it would help me later on." She'd never believed him until just then. At the mention of her father, Emma's face turned to ash.

"I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me," she looked away.

"No, it's alright," Ayda blurted. Why did she care how this woman felt?

An awkward silence fell over them after that. The family wasn't sure how to continue after Emma supposedly killed the mood, and Ayda didn't know how to tell them it was okay. But the silence wasn't the only thing which made her feel a bit uncomfortable. The little discussion about language made Ayda painfully aware of her own accent for the first time. Did she sound funny to everyone else?

She looked around at all the people to take her mind off of it. There were so many, and they all seemed so busy. Even the people buying lunch or drinking coffee had a spring in their step. It made Ayda want to break into a sprint, just to keep up with them.

"Feeling overwhelmed?" Bernard asked. Ayda snapped her attention back to him. "You've probably never seen so many people in one place before," he observed. Although it was a correct statement, Ayda didn't especially like him making such broad assumptions about her upbringing.

"Don't worry, dear, the rest of the city isn't as bad," Emma reassured her.

"It's worse," Jacqueline interjected.

Although this was meant as a joke, Ayda wasn't looking forward to the process of adjusting to city life. All the sights and sounds in an urban jungle which seemed to never end. Back in her old home in Iran, it was possible to drive from one end to the other in about twenty minutes. How could she ever hope to align with the urbanized method of operation? Her heart sank, a physical embodiment of how unfathomably more complicated her life just became.