Now that Margo had learned how to swim, Psychwatch finally threw her into the deep end. Following five Empath sessions with harmless adolescents, Commissioner Mason assigned her to a Threat Level 3 dragged directly out of the organization's psych ward. This individual came not from a cold-hearted fortress where broken men would be broken even further for what they've done, but from a modernized sanatorium that would take in broken people and do what they could to piece them back together.

Traversing down another corridor once more, Margo was escorted by Mason and a girl no older than eighteen. She wore glasses and carried a set of what looked like notecards in her hands. Much like Mason, she was African-American and was regarded for having great intelligence at such a young age. However, given her lack of a hologram name tag, instead replaced by her name emblazoned in dark letters on a gold tab, she couldn't have been an official part of the organization.

"Sandoval," Mason declared. "This young lady beside you is Nikki Atkinson. She's been working as an intern here for the last five months. Once she graduates from high school and completes her major in psychology and law enforcement, she'll be in the same position as you are."

The girl quickly glanced over at Margo before returning her gaze to the hallway in front of her, the doors only dozens of feet away. "Nice to meet you," she said monotonously.

"Hello, Nikki," Margo smiled. "How are you gonna assist us today?"

"M-M-Mason asked me to bring along some Rorschach inkblot cards for the patient's psychological evaluation. She also wanted me to remind you to remember where your Fatemaker is."

Margo's smile disappeared as she glared over at her Fatemaker resting in her blazer's inner pocket. "Why would I need it as an Empath?" she asked Mason. "Aren't we working with people?"

Mason remained silent for a few seconds before coldly responding, "Most of the time, yes."

"How is this one any different?"

"Atkinson, would you kindly inform her of her next patient?"

Nikki cleared her throat. "I've never met this guy before in person," she explained, "but Mason says he's practically a lost cause. Anytime he looks like he's made an improvement, it's all just a facade. He takes these sessions as if they were a script for a movie, like another role he'll pretend to be."

Margo shrugged. "Can't be that bad if he's only a Level 3."

"He's only Level 3 because he's undergoing redemption therapy. The things he's done are equivalent of a Level 5."

Once again, Margo was dumbfounded. "Redemption therapy? You mean he's—"

"A colleague of ours," Mason finished the sentence as they approached the door. "He's dangerous, but he's reliable enough to be let out of the cage."

The doors slid open, and they were greeted by the sight of Jack Holloway planted down in a chair at a silver table. There was a SanityScan hanging from each corner of the room, all of them setting their sights on Holloway like a sniper. He sat at the table with a look of utter boredom.

Both Margo and Nikki quickly got a glimpse into his psyche using their ThoughtControl:

Margo was about to question why she could see his P3S data given the fact he was her colleague. The P3S data for Psychwatch officers and employees was always kept confidential unless the person permitted the viewing of their psychological data. However, she immediately remembered that Psychwatch officers undergoing redemption therapy would have their data revealed to the SanityScans at the end of the day when they've returned to their quarters or are sent to a therapy session. They'd be just like everyone else for a moment.

Jack was slouched down into his chair, twirling his fingers around out of boredom. He was very well-built. His shoulders were broad and his chin was chiseled. His light brown hair spiked an inch above his head, and small faded scars grazed his face around his left eye and cheek. And as for his eyes, they were like an uninhabited lake: beautifully blue, mesmerizing, yet cold and lifeless.

When the three women approached the table, he carefully tilted his head up so Margo had a clear view of his scars and flashed a smirk, one mixed with charisma and something deeply sinister.

"Good morning, Mr. Holloway," Margo said, doing her best to avoid eye contact with him out of Mason's suggestion. "Are you ready for today's session?"

"You're new," Jack replied as he scooted up. "Surprised Mason let a cute little nurse like you around someone like me on just their first day."

"Well, this 'cute little nurse' has training in psychology and law enforcement along with a Fatemaker in her jacket pocket. So I'd prefer if you didn't underestimate me. Got that, sir?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle. "I think we'll get along just fine."

"Nikki, sweetie," Margo asked, "could you activate Mr. Holloway's NeuroLink to the Rorschach cards for me please?"

Those simple words nearly gave Nikki a heart attack. Margo was greeted with a look of pure terror, as if asking for her assistance was the same as asking her to die for a greater cause. With her heart pounding out of her chest, Nikki grabbed a small box containing a device similar to the ThoughtControl piece, clicked it open, and took the little device in her hand toward Jack.

Jack glanced Nikki up and down, fully aware of her dread. The smirk on his face never left. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he taunted. "Nothing to be afraid of. I can't hurt you."

Nikki slowly approached the patient, her heartbeat growing more rapid. She had to fight back the urge to scream.

"You've got a cop, an armed nurse, and an entire facility to protect you, honey," Jack uttered, still aware of his control. "Don't be foolish and assume I'll be the end of everything."

"That's enough, Holloway," Mason ordered.

Nikki finally placed the NeuroLink against Jack's temple, and the device glowed green as it beeped to life. She nervously scurried back to her more trustworthy colleagues and dropped back down into her chair. Margo noticed she had popped open a small box of Psychwatch-prescribed pills and placed two in her mouth.

"Th-th-the NeuroLink has synced with the patient's emotions," Nikki stuttered as her pillbox snapped shut. "The cards are ready for use."

Margo briefly placed her hand down on Nikki's to reassure her safety before returning her view to Mr. Holloway. "Allow me to introduce myself," she said. "My name is Margo Sandoval. I'm an Empath here at Psychwatch, and I hear you've been working with them for a while. So how about we take some time getting to know each other a little more?"

"Sounds great," Jack replied. "Although, I'm not sure if Mason will let me bring someone back to the cell. Not while conscious anyway."

Margo blew off the harassment and took a card from Nikki. On the front was the word RORSCHACH in bold letters while the back contained questions for the evaluation. She proceeded to read them off.

"First question, Mr. Holloway," she declared. "Your SanityScan results have diagnosed you with antisocial personality disorder, according to the list of symptoms matching criteria in the DSM-6. How did you react to the news of your diagnosis?"

Jack shrugged. "Just another day as a Psychwatch patient. If anything, the news of what I was finally made things interesting around here. It made me interesting around here."

"Next question. Have you ever considered taking the Hare Psychopathy Checklist evaluation?"

"Of course not. Whatever they tell you, I'm not a psychopath. A psychopath cares too much about detail and timing. I just need to get my job done, preferably fast."

"How would you describe your childhood?"

Jack paused for a moment. He glanced over at Nikki, making sure his ice-cold eyes met hers to feel the satisfaction of her intimidation. Once he had an answer, he leaned forward. "Let's just say it's not exactly one Miss Atkinson over here would be comfortable with. How old are you anyway, honey?"

"I'm eighteen, creep," Nikki replied, but her sheepish tone undermined the insult.

"Please leave Miss Atkinson out of this," Margo continued. "This interview is between you and me, Mr. Holloway."

"Then why the fuck is Mason looking over your shoulder?" Jack asked.

"To make sure you return to your quarters unscathed," Mason growled.

"Now, Mr. Holloway," Margo interrupted, "I'm gonna need you to gaze into these cards and tell me what you see. Nikki, please take note of his neural activity." Margo took a card in her hands and waited as the word RORSCHACH morphed into a crudely-shaped blob of black ink. "What do you see here?"

Jack leaned forward to gaze into this insignificant blot and give it a meaning. He knew how it worked anyway. What you see in the blot determined who you are inside. And his past already reminded him of what was going on inside.

Jack Holloway, called out a voice from his past. Another visit to the nurse's office? Didn't we already tell you to try and be peaceful with the other kids? Or...who's responsible for these bruises?

"I see a panda," Jack replied monotonously.

"Patient is feeling mildly frustrated," Nikki whispered.

Margo traded the card out for another one. "Next questions," Margo continued. "Do you feel empathy for other people?"

"Is it important that I do?" Jack asked back.

"Like when you're out in the city alongside your fellow Psychwatch officers. If one of them is in immense pain or under attack, do you care for their safety?"

Jack paused. "I don't see why I shouldn't. Someone out there would probably miss them if something bad happened to them."

"Next question. Do you comprehend the concept of love?"

"Looks interesting. But I'd need a reason to believe it's necessary."

"Do you believe you're better than other people?"

"As long as I have my own identity, I'll always be better. I ain't the kind of person to follow trends just to get noticed. I'm me. I'm not a fucking insecure lackey desperate for attention."

"Interesting responses," Margo replied with a nod. She activated the card's Rorschach blot. "Could you please tell me what you see here?"

The image was clear. He was fifteen years old. He stood in the backyard patio of one of his old schoolmates, holding a bloody mallet. Beside him lay the corpses of that student along with his dog.

"A little girl eating a lollipop," he replied.

Margo wasn't convinced. She decided to let him tell his lies just a little while longer. She placed down the card and took a final one from Nikki's deck. "Next question. What are your plans for the future?"

"The future?" Jack repeated. "Too broad. I just plan on living another day."

"Stemming off of that, where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"Probably waking up in my cell, taking more empathy meds, waiting for another mission or session."

"Why don't you see yourself somewhere else other than Psychwatch?"

"Because no one else does, either."

Margo cleared her throat. "Final question. Are there any other treatments you'd like to try out here at Psychwatch?"

"Yeah, the Empaths always ask me that last," Jack chuckled. "Unless you guys still offer Erase-and-Replace, I'll be fine without additional therapy."

"Mr. Holloway, I'm not sure if you're aware, but Erase-and-Replace was discontinued years ago given the side effects of replacing traumatic memories with false ones. Besides, you can grow stronger from your darker experiences, as callous as that may sound."

"Grow stronger, eh? Try telling that to all the teens who've committed suicide thinking someone's encouraging words were read off a script."

Margo paused again, partially regretting her choice of words. Jack's response reminded her of an unending dilemma Carl was trapped in when he briefly worked at the Suicide Hotline Crisis Center. He always had a soft spot for youth, but he eventually had to accept that not everyone could be saved. For every five to seven people he saved, there would always be one person who couldn't find the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Before we conclude our session," Margo continued as she held up the final Rorschach inkblot, one with a few splotches of red, "you know what I want you to do."

Jack took a final glimpse back into his past.

Don't remove the glass shards on your own, Holloway. The doctor will be here to stitch up your wounds. Painkillers will be prescribed, but you can only take them under staff supervision to avoid repeating your previous incident. You will also have your own private quarters, separated from your father's. Are we clear?

Thank you...

"Roses."

That was enough of that. "Why are you telling me responses you believe I want to hear?" Margo asked in frustration as she placed the cards face-down on the table. "You can't hide things from us, Mr. Holloway."

"Believe it or not, I haven't been hiding anything," Jack replied. "You just haven't been here long enough. Come back with your own scars and maybe I'll show you some more of mine."

"So this is all about an inability to relate, isn't it?"

"That is all for now, Sandoval," Mason ordered. "I'll take it from here. Maslow and Royce could probably use your assistance."

"What do I do with the notes, Miss?" Nikki asked.

"Send them to my office. You did a good job today. You and Sandoval are free to go."

While Nikki hurriedly rose from her chair toward the exit, Margo took some time to gather up the cards as her eyes met Jack's. This was the complete opposite of her previous Empath sessions. Her other patients consisted mainly of teenagers, most of whom willingly accepted aid and had a grip on their humanity, and even the one's who weren't as cooperative were still approachable. This Holloway individual, however, was completely apathetic. He had more in common with a serial killer than he did with a simple patient.

And the last glimpse she got of him was a cold, lifeless glare devoid of whatever charisma he had before.