Day 86th, Year of 3:

At last, a use for the captive commander dawned on me. This should serve two purposes: the first being to be able to gauge the might of my puppets, and the other is to weaken him enough so that he becomes my strongest prototype to date. Here I shall find out if my warriors can keep up with the likes of the general's prowess.

The test should allow me to see how effective the control units are in keeping the men in fighting condition, and if there is a need for me to direct them with what needs to be done. Here I shall find out if this serves me better than Doctor Hollengrehn's other project...

Trevalyn was no longer with his advisor when he was making his way to another section of his laboratory. Two riflemen stood behind the door, extending a salute to the crime lord when he was making his way through. A hiss echoed on the halls when the doorway retreated, revealing the silent, almost unoccupied interior. Inside were long tables with rubber tubes, glass pipes and vessels and, unknown deep red masses were placed on top of them. Nobody was tending to this room; save for an inert construct that resembled a coat hanger with four clawed arms. A green light on its ball head flashed three times before it moved on treads towards the chief scientist.

"Hold. Do not follow." Trevalyn stared at the construct's 'eye'. It stopped in the middle of the room and began moving back to the corner where it once was.

Another door stood at the end of the room; Trevalyn pulled a pair of levers at its left side. There was a whistle, followed by the mechanisms working their way to opening the doorway. Large cylinders containing bodies soaked in a translucent white fluid were mounted on each side of the walls. A man in a graying white coat stood in front of a large control panel that overlooked the vessels. Green light coming out of the console's buttons gave him the illusion of spots; the dark lenses of his goggles shone while he worked on the buttons and levers.

"Friedrich." Trevalyn's machine arm stretched out; its claws opened and shut. "How are they?"

"All Puppets are stable, Doctor. The nutrient bath has healed much of the wounds sustained during the serum introduction." The aide looked at one of the filled vats; an uneasy smile was etched on his face upon staring at the body inside. "This one should be fully operational in a week, and most would be ready the week after."

"Excellent. I should have the weaponeers prepare their proper equipment."

"All occupied tanks are filled with the fluid." Friedrich turned his back on the pedestal and stepped down from the control platform. "Also, what do you intend to do with the prisoner at the extreme right holding cell?"

"I should say that he's a 'special case', Friedrich."

"Understood, Doctor."

"You are excused. See to it that Doctor Hollengrehn is reminded of the scheduled alloy synthesis."

"Yes."

The apprentice nodded once and proceeded to the exit door; the last traces of his voice bounced off the halls before they were engulfed by silence. Trevalyn stared at the vats that lined the walls; nine men who would serve as living examples of his project. They should live longer and serve him better now that the killer of his first-ever prototype rested on one of his holding cells. He wondered what that man was doing now.

The Imperial Guardsman's new cell should hold him nicely; he shouldn't be feeling more of a prisoner but rather a guest whose host forced him to stay. No chains to bind, no bars to trap. It was not the best way to keep a very dangerous man in check, Trevalyn thought and yet there were few options that the facility could provide to incarcerate the militaryman. None of what he had at the facility would ensure that the man remains under his control.

White ovoid lamps sat at the near end of the hall; their glow was brighter than their green counterparts found at where the vats were housed. A door guarded by a pair of men sat after the chain of lights; Trevalyn spotted the outline of a large man beyond the door's grilles.

"This door is much weaker compared to the jail cell he was transferred from? He apparently knew better."

He approached the door and one of the guards nodded; a key was produced from his waist. The halls silence was broken by the man's fumbling and the metal jangling against each other. All three entered the cell to see a towering man taking a seat on his bed.

"And how's the general doing?" Trevalyn's clawed hand twitched. "I've made this facility 'especially for you'. It is much more accommodating compared to the prison cell you used to occupy, do you not agree? "

"Prisoners can't choose, but your hospitality has become a little more tolerable now. This new room could use a little more... a little more comforts."

"You jest, General?" The white of Trevalyn's teeth peeked in his grin. "I'm surprised that you still haven't thought of escaping."

The crime lord raised his right hand; the clicking of bolts was heard from his men's rifles.

"If you wouldn't mind, I prefer if I have my men ready their weapons." Trevalyn looked at the closed door behind him; his eyes shifted back to his captive. "Just in case that I lose my guard and your chance to escape suddenly shows itself."

General Schild's lips formed a closed smile; he sat still, and found a sense of satisfaction in stirring the crime lord.

"The esteemed Gray Fox, afraid of his prisoner. You are indeed full of surprises."

"I have reason to be – no man managed to stand before Cecil of Schild's might and lived to tell about it."

"No need for flattery." Cecil's hands sunk on the mattress. "Are you here to read my sentence?"

"Far from it. I have no use for dead men."

Trevalyn walked to his right, where a small sink and a flush toilet were placed. Water droplets stained on the surface, reflecting the ceiling light through much smaller images. A clawed hand tapped against the surface. His men kept their eyes on the commander; their guns were lowered, but were done in a way that they could be immediately put to aim should the prisoner make any attempts to harm them. Trevalyn stared at the misty mirror above the sink; a graying face that fought hard with time in an attempt to keep a firm, unwavering personage looked at him. His eyes returned to focusing on the general before saying:

"You must have figured out what this place is for. I am not the one to underestimate, General."

"You have expanded your 'lines of expertise' apparently – from mechanical weapons you are perhaps investing in human weapons as well."

"Correct, but you lack other details, but no matter. That should be more than enough for you to understand."

Cecil let out low laughter; his eyes glinted with a hint of green. He stretched his legs to their straightest which brought the guards' attention. They didn't like what he did, and the clicking of carbines affirmed it. He stared at the Gray Fox's men, who only resorted to tightening their hold on their weapons.

"Are you still having trouble figuring out what to do with me?"

"I wouldn't be too concerned about that if I were you, General." A smile was set on Trevalyn's face – one that expressed a sense of control over displaying plain satisfaction. "Nothing has changed with my intentions. I shall let you know of that in due time. For now, I have decided to use these spare minutes talking to you."

"Speak."

"I am rather surprised that you still haven't attempted to escape. Other people in your situation would have surely attempted anything by now."

"That is something I would not be talking to you about, of all people." The general let out a smile of his own. "Knowing you, it's impossible that you won't foresee such an obvious move."

"I learn quickly, General. How you managed to track down my Schweiglands facility down even when hidden from sight is remarkable. Finding your way out of my facility wouldn't be harder for you to do, of course."

Both men stared in silence; aged eyes that could muster so much focus in such a short time. Trevalyn felt that this aged soldier was gauging him, and he was about to draw out what he just found out.

It turned out that he was right.

"So tell me." The general stood up; his frame cast a shadow on the crime lord. "Why does the Gray Fox try to lure me into escaping?"

"It is natural for a jailor to see if his captive has lost the fire – that will to break free of those who trap him. You do agree with that."

"Not with this time of your visit, and even more doubtful that you even brought up the idea of escape. You may be hiding a trick under that arm of yours. It is a trap that will make my escape impossible most likely."

"Do you take me for a deceiver, General?"

"That was how you got me here in the first place."

The crime lord didn't want his intentions to be declared too early; his prisoner could sense his hesitation as well.

"I wonder General, if the Empire accepted your 'death' and moved on." Trevalyn walked back to the two guards. "Maybe your family has given in to that thought as well. It has been quite some time since your first day as my prisoner."

"Mad you may be, but I did not know that you also seem to lack sensibility." Cecil sat down and let his eyes scan the room before looking at Trevalyn. "I may lose some sense of time being your captive, but I know it has not been that long since my first moments here."

"Not long, you say? So much has happened, but none of those matter in due time." Trevalyn's claw snapped shut. "For now, I will just tell you that you shall play your part in my grand design."

Nothing changed in the general's blank expression. Trevalyn did not keep his gaze at his prisoner for too long. He turned around and walked his way out of the cell; his pair of armed men eclipsed his back when the crime lord got hold of the door.