The door was kicked in first, body-armour clad figures storming down the stairs in a column, faces covered by visors, as almost simultaneously a blast sent fragments of wall flying across the room, smoke clearing to reveal a hole from which more figures emerged. Triss, closest to the hole, lashed out at the nearest form, her punch ineffectual against body-plating. Darting out, the figure grabbed Triss by her lower arm, which turned shimmering silver and flowed under and over his hand, shifting towards Triss to reform beside her chest.

"Run!" shouted Smoke, fading as he spoke and swirling around the faces of those closest to Triss, blinding them.

FX, closest to the stairs, aimed his palms towards the approaching forms and was instantly knocked to the ground from behind. Turning painfully, the wind knocked out of him, he saw a man standing next to the hole, taser wire trailing from him. The man was clearly surprised FX was still able to move, but swiftly another armour-clad figure drew and fired another taser, and FX passed out... Or felt he had. It was only slowly he realised he was still conscious, but completely unable to see.

"Enough of this," said a voice, as clear as if spoken in his ear. "All of you, stop moving. I can keep you trapped in this darkness as long as I like, so stop."

He realised he was listening to the voice of Shade, as clearly as if he was speaking directly into his ear.

"Nice one, Stan," he went to say, and was stunned when not a single sound escaped his lips.

"I have completely smothered the senses of everyone in this room. Now, I want Smoke, Triss, and Eric to move as quickly as possible towards the back of the room. You intruders will not move an inch - I know the location of each one of you, and can kill you before you even know it. So just try me."

FX crawled towards the back of the room, body complaining all the way, the taste of electricity in his mouth, head buzzing. His hands outstretched, he was unsure where he was until he felt smooth, warm skin.

"Ah, Triss, I’m glad I've found you," he said, and found his voice was back.

"That's my leg, FX. Please stop touching it," came the voice of Smoke. Hastily releasing, he stood up as steadily as possible.

"What the hell is going on here? They blew a hole in the wall! Of a basement!"

"We'll figure that out later. First, what the hell do we do now?" Triss's voice came from his left.

This time Shade's voice was clear because it was coming from close by. "I'm fairly sure the stairs are still blocked, and I have no idea where that hole goes," he said.

"What do you mean 'fairly sure?’ You said you could tell their locations!" exclaimed FX, a little louder than he meant.

"They don't know I can't, right? I had to think on my feet. At least I wasn't lying on the floor."

"I was fuckin' tasered, man. In the spine! You try standing after that."

"Stop screwing around, guys. How the hell are we going to get out of here? We need Ollie, dammit," said Smoke.

"Ok, ok, calm down. We need to think of something. Hang on, how about..."

Shade's voice was cut off by a sudden rattle of metal hitting the ground, followed by a low hissing.

"Is that... gas..?" Shade's voice trailed off, and suddenly the light returned, meaning Smoke could watch as Shade's eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor. Shade's unconscious form was soon followed by FX's, falling on top of him. Smoke stared in shock as Triss collapsed next to him.

"So, I'm immune to gas, ok, right," he said, failing to hide his fear. "I've got to get them out of here..."

He looked at the unconscious forms of his friends, heard the voices and steps of the attackers, searching for anyone still standing in the mist of knock-out gas. At a loss, face contorted with fear and rage and shame, Smoke changed to a cloud and poured out the door and into the cool night air.

"Let's clean these freaks up and get out of here," said one of the armoured officers, as he stepped towards those Smoke had left behind.

Smoke whipped around the neighbourhood of what had been, until a few hours ago, their hideout. Unwilling to reform for more than a minute, his senses dulled from maintaining this vapour form for so long, he tried to work out what he should do next. Those figures had been police, for god's sake. The riot armour they had been wearing had the insignia of the New City police force all over it, and Smoke couldn't for the life of him figure out why they would have attacked his group. He was hoping against hope that Ollie would turn up, that he might have some idea of what to do, but he hadn't even the faintest clue as to where Ollie had gone. Besides, he didn't really believe Ollie would be of any help. Instead, he was forced to face the truth that had been becoming more and more apparent to him as time passed. He would have to get into the police headquarters and find out what the hell was going on.

Finally resolved to this course of action, he allowed the air currents to take him in the direction of the HQ, moving against the current when necessary but doing his best to seem as light as a natural fog in the soft rain of the evening, barely visible in the yellow street lights. He didn't want to draw any attention. It was at this time he realised that he was, once again, without clothing. Goddammit...

FX came to tied down to an old wooden chair, the straps holding his hands palm down on each arm. Looking around muzzily, he first noted Shade still unconscious in a chair to his left, and then a suited figure seated behind a large business desk in front of him.

"Ah, Mr Eric G M Matthews. Welcome back to New City. We have so missed you," said the suit.

FX stared at the name plate in front of him. P. T. Reanes, Detective Inspector First Class (Undesirable Elements Department), it stated. He didn't have a clue what any of that meant - there was certainly no such position or department when he was last in town. He heard Shade groan beside him.

"Ah, Stan, good to see you're still with us," said FX, before the Detective Inspector began.

"Mr Stan L White. Please don't try anything, I don't want to have to gas you again - it is such a difficult smell to get out of the furniture. And that goes for you too, Mr Matthews. You are unable to focus your sound waves without the use of your hands, and besides, should you try anything, 50,000 volts will be pumped into you by my companions."

FX was suddenly aware of the two police officers standing behind him, each with a taser poised close to his neck. He turned his eyes forward, and appraised Reanes.

Big guy, FX thought, looks like he's had more than a few serious fights, too, judging by the scars on his face. The scars were long, evidently deep, and one in particular cut a livid line across his right cheek and up to his eye. It must have been fortunate he hadn't lost the eye, and it didn't look that old either.

So, a regular fighter, and someone who knew how to look after himself on the street. FX felt his spirits fall further - he was not a fighter, he knew; he relied on his powers almost entirely, and hated going up against people who knew how to fight. They always surprised him with their reactions and sheer aggression. He'd knocked people down in the past just to be surprised when they came flying back up at him, like one of those stupid inflatable punch bags you had as a kid. Besides, he knew he had come a long way in the past few years but he still hated the idea of pain and wasn't willing to risk it.

Pushing his anger aside, he decided to play nice. For now at least, and if he should ever happen to find himself in a situation where he and this Reanes were together and he wasn't tied down, well...

"You're wondering how and why we brought you here. Well, I can tell you the how, at least..." He made to continue, when Shade cut him off.

"You've been watching us, for weeks, at least. That's obvious. There's no way you could have blasted a hole in that wall without a tunnel, and that must have taken some time to dig when we weren't around to hear," he said.

Jesus, now is not the time to show off, thought FX, noting the look of anger crossing the face of the detective.

"Well, I see you have some deductive powers. It was months, actually. Ever since you found the place and started scouting around the tower."

"So why take us in? The spheres don't seem to care, or if they do get mad they forget pretty soon afterwards. Why the hell are you helping them? They're killing people, you asshole."

The detective looked down and made a note on some paper in front of him, before looking up and smiling.

"I think you'll find there's been some major changes in the way the police operate in the past few months. All very private; we no longer make our business public. However, I can tell you that, happily, the force is now operating under a new command system that extends right up to the very top of our government, which has agreed to work with our extra-terrestrial visitors for the advancement of mankind and peace for humanity. It is my department's job to keep an eye on, as our name states, the 'undesirable' elements of society; those who may wish to destabilise the system we have operating now."

FX went red in the face, the rage he had planned to control bubbling up.

"Stable? Motherfuckin' stable? They use people to build those goddam towers and then they throw them in the trash like garbage. What the hell do you think you're doing, you little shit? How can you be working with them?"

The bindings were all that prevented him smashing Reanes' face into the wall behind him. Reanes blinked, and made another note in his book.

"And I can assure you that those now chosen to work on the towers are only those deemed 'undesirable,' working from a strict criteria devised by my department."

"So we are an undesirable section of society now, are we?" asked Shade, voice defiant.

"Oh, no, gentlemen. Not at all! Why, if you were part of that category we wouldn't be having this conversation, believe me. I have no desire to interact with such vermin."

Reanes shuffled some papers in his hands before he continued.

"No, no, we were asked to keep an eye on you in orders from the very highest level, and then we were told to bring you in, which we did. We had plenty of time to observe your abilities and develop countermeasures, which as you can see worked perfectly." Reanes smiled again, eyes gleaming. Like a snake, thought FX.

"So where is the rest of our group then?" asked Shade.

"Well, your friend Smoke unfortunately escaped, but don't worry, we have an expert team of analysts who have the perfect plan for bringing him in, and I'm afraid your friend Lou really was an undesirable element. I'm sure he's working on the tower even as we speak. I'm not sure how long he'll last though; he didn't seem that strong from what I saw when they took him away."

"You bastard. I'm going to blind you in both eyes when I get out of here, you fucking scum," FX spat.

Reanes simply nodded and made another note in the book.

"Indeed. And finally, your friend Lunar, I think she is called, is being analysed by one of the most enthusiastic members of the research department. I do expect we will learn a lot from her."

He stood up, checking his notebook as he did so.

"Ok fellas," he said to the two policemen standing behind FX, voice becoming much more casual, almost totally different, as he spoke, "That's 3 beatings for the each of them. You see, gentlemen," he turned back to the prisoners, "I do so hate being cursed at, so I have a policy that for every one received, my boys will give a beating. They have had a lot of practice, you'll probably want to know, so I think you may come to realise that swearing at me is not a wise thing to do. The first will be administered now, and the next after you have had some time to recover in your cells. I will see you again soon, I expect. Do try not to die."

The tasers pierced their necks as he left the room.

Triss did not let her panic show when she awoke on a steel gurney in a sterile white room. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and examined her surroundings. The fluorescent lighting and tiled walls and floors reminded her of the mortuary of a hospital. Or a coroner's laboratory, she thought, suddenly realising that was exactly where she was. As she tested the give of the restraints holding her down, a short man wearing blue scrubs and a face mask slid the entrance door to the side, stepped inside and washed his hands, already encased in latex surgical gloves. Pulling them on tighter, the plastic slapping against his skin, he turned to her and spoke;

"Ah, good morning my dear, and how are we today?"

It was impossible to see his face under the mask, but the voice reminded her of nothing less than a friendly old grandpa, which made the large and very sharp scalpel he was holding in his hand all the more disturbing.

"I am glad you are awake now, it appears your powers don't activate when you are unconscious - an interesting discovery in itself."

Lunar was suddenly aware of a throbbing to the right of her skull. Turning her head to the right, she realised there was a small pool of blood on the gurney dripping to the floor.

"Holy shit, what did you do?" she said, shaken.

"Now, now my dear, I just cut off part of your ear lobe. You seem to have at least a limited fast-healing factor, another exciting discovery I might add, so there is little harm done. It is no longer even bleeding. See?"

He held up a mirror to her face, allowing her to see the gaping gap where the entire lower half of her ear used to be. It was indeed no longer bleeding and even seemed to be half healed-over, but a pulse of pain brought tears to her eyes, which she fought back.

"You son of a bitch. I'll bite your face off if you touch me again." She tried to flex her arms and legs, but there was simply no give. Quickly, she started to change forms, her wrists and ankles where the straps were changing first.

Everything went black.

She regained consciousness to the sound of the man's voice.

"Do not try that again my dear, I really don't know how many volts you can be exposed to. Perhaps your liquid form aids conductivity, and if so does this protect or harm you? We just don't know, and I have many other tests I would like to carry out before that."

He gestured to what looked like a giant car battery at the side of the gurney, cables running from it into the metal on which she lay. In his hand he held a small red button, which was apparently used to control the current.

"I assure you that this button isn't the only measure we have taken to restrain you. Should your weight shift, say through your transformation, the battery will automatically discharge. Well now - let's begin."

He stepped towards her, scalpel raised.

"Firstly, we need to know how it is you work, and for that, I need another sample. The ear I took doesn't seem to transform no matter what external stimuli I use. Now, I'm going to take some of the flesh from your arm. Do please try not to struggle too much."

Having finished speaking, he leaned down and with one smooth motion cut out a chunk of flesh from her arm. Expecting the pain, Triss was surprised to feel nothing. She strained to raise her head to a point where she could see, and could make out the shimmering liquid surrounding the cut surface of her forearm.

"Interesting," the old man said, "it seems to be an automatic response, but it didn't occur when you were unconscious. Strange."

In his hand he held the lump of flesh, a stone-sized pink and red mass that silvered and changed even as he spoke. The now-silver liquid slid through his gloved fingers and landed on the gurney, flowing up and re-joining Triss's arm. Suddenly, her arm was once again whole, as if it had never been cut.

"Now this is exciting! Tell me, how did you do that?"

Triss, who had no idea herself, simply glared at the man and said nothing.

"Very well, I suppose I will have repeat the experiment and see what we can see."

So saying, his hand flashed out, again cutting a lump out of her arm. Taking the lump, he threw it over his shoulder with one hand, where it hit the wall with a wet slap, sliding down and leaving a red trail. Never taking his eyes off her, he said "Let's see what happens now, shall we?"

Triss was able to see what happened next; the lump once again transformed, the red trail also turning silver and flowing down the wall until it was all once again a single shimmering mass. The mass began moving directly towards the hole in her arm, sliding over the tiles until it reached the gurney, then somehow flowing up the legs and back into her arm.

"How mysterious. How can it do that, I wonder? Some sort of hydrostatic effect is taking place, I'm sure, explaining how it can flow regardless of orientation, but how are you controlling it? It is the control that is the key."

Turning, he reached across to a glass bell jar, in which a similar pool of silver liquid was flowing, always in the direction of Lunar regardless of how he span and rotated the jar.

"Fascinating. This was, until you regained consciousness, your ear lobe. Let me see what happens should you once again be rendered unconscious."

This time, she felt the jolt of electricity before she blacked out.

Smoke flowed back into his form in a small alley across the street from the police HQ, checking the perimeters of the building for any unusual activity. On this cold and wet night no-one was moving about, and feeling good about his chances he once again dissipated, floating across the road and through the wire fence surrounding the building. Re-apparating at the side of the building, an ill-lit narrow road that provided access for squad cars moving from the rear of the building to the front, he ducked down beside two garbage skips and looked around. There was no sound save the dripping of the gutters, gurgling into the drains, and no sign of movement.

So far, so good, he said to himself, and flowed out around the building, investigating the possible ways in. Returning to his hiding spot amongst the skips a few minutes later, he reformed. He needed to think clearly, and in his smoke form thinking was always harder.

It was already the dead of night, and a gibbous moon hung between the dark clouds, making the rain flash as it fell around him. He had found numerous open windows despite the chill in the night air, each leading into well-lit rooms with officers doing paperwork or holding conversations, but had seen no sign of his group. He had also discovered, on the top of the square building, a ventilator that pumped air out of the entire building. It required very little consideration to realise that this was the best way in for Smoke, and so he took it. Flowing up the building, and then down the cylindrical tube passed the fan, he flowed through the ventilation system of the building, searching constantly for any hint of his comrades’ whereabouts.

Triss regained consciousness once more, and this time felt the pain. It seared through her body, bringing her fully awake in microseconds and forcing a gasp from her lips. Straining her head up, she saw the doctor standing with his back to her over another gurney, bent down over what she quickly realised was her foot. Sweeping her eyes over her body, she saw the damage he had done - her left leg ended in a ragged stump, and her right hand was bleeding from the places where her fingers used to be. Even as the pain became almost unbearable, it ceased. She watched, marvelling as the ragged wounds grew silver, shining in the fluorescent light, and heard the man turn to her.

"Ah, I see you are awake. Pity, I wanted to investigate your bodily structure more. Still, I found no differences from ordinary anatomy in my cursory observations."

As he spoke, the blood and gore that covered the apron he was now wearing went silver and flowed down his body, joined by the pool that had been her foot and fingers, merging and flowing up and re-joining her body. Flexing her feet and fingers, Triss felt no trace of the pain she had awoken to, but the memory and the anger remained strong.

"You psycho," she hissed.

"I understand this is tough for you," the man said, voice soft and seemingly concerned, "But you ought to understand that I am causing you no lasting damage. In fact, no harm at all. It seems to me that the only way to hurt you would be to kill you when you are unconscious. Other than that, you are a remarkably durable creature."

Suddenly, the sound of a phone vibrate function clattered on the sideboard next to the door, and he went over to check the screen.

"Ah, it seems your friend will be here any second," he said, picking up a gas mask Triss had not noticed hanging from the second gurney.

Suddenly, smoke began pouring in from a vent in the ceiling and the doctor was forcing a mask over her own head.

"I need you fully conscious," he said, "and you certainly don't want to be breathing this."

As he spoke, there was a loud bang followed by the hissing sound of high-pressure air releasing rapidly, and the room filled with thick vapour. Triss was confused - Smoke definitely never formed this much cloud - but didn't see what effect it could possibly have on him. Breathing through the mask, she watched as Smoke coalesced in front of her.

"So, not bringing clothes any more I see," she said, voice muffled by the mask. Smoke looked from her to the masked doctor, standing on the opposite side of the two gurneys, looking on calmly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Look, what the hell is going on here? Why don't you get out of here? Where are the others?"

Smoke spoke fast, scanning the room for a way to cut her bonds.

"I can't move until that battery is disconnected. Pull the cables out!" she shouted.

Smoke grabbed at the thick cables, yanking, but they didn't budge.

"I need something to cut them with," he said, diving around the room and opening draws.

"The doctor's got a scalpel, get it off him!" Triss screamed.

The doctor was still standing calmly, hazily visible through the vapour still hanging in the air.

Smoke looked around wildly. "Doctor? What doctor..? What the hell is THAT?" he jumped back abruptly, smashing into the sideboard and collapsing onto the floor in a clatter of beakers and containers.

Triss followed his eye line and saw only the doctor, standing there in his gas mask. Smoke stared wide-eyed at him, and tried to scrabble away, scratching at the floor but not taking his eyes from the old man.

"Ah, I see it's beginning to take effect. I wonder how strong a dose he got?"

He stepped forward as he spoke, provoking a cry of fear from Smoke, who crawled to a corner and stared.

"What the fuck is going on? What's wrong with Smoke?" Triss shouted at the doctor.

"Well, to put it in simple language... He is tripping balls." The man removed his mask as he spoke. "The vapour seems to be gone now, but it is most definitely going to be in his system for some time. Lysergic acid diethylamide. I assume you know it by the acronym LSD. We vaporised it and pumped it into the air when he arrived. A high dose, theoretically made stronger by the fact that he himself was a gas when he entered the cloud. The drug mixed with the stress of the situation is giving him a very bad trip indeed."

Smoke seemed to have calmed down when the doctor took off his mask, and he was now staring around himself, smiling at the broken glass all over the floor.

"Wow, that's amazing," he said spacily, picking up a shard of beaker and twirling it in front of his eye. "The light is so... so bright."

Smoke giggled to himself, hands reaching out to grab handfuls of glass and throwing it into the air, showering himself in glittering shards. "It’s raining crystals!"

"We chose quite a buzzy high, I think you'll find. He's going to be euphoric for the rest of the day." The doctor advanced towards the prostrate, grinning Smoke.

"Smoke, sort your head out right now!" yelled Triss, still pinned to the gurney.

"Hey, relax, alright. Don't shout at me man." Smoke was now staring intently at the space between the tiles at his feet. "How do they get the lines so straight?" he rambled, muttering to himself.

The doctor now stood in front of Smoke, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him upright. "I think you need a good lie down, don't you? We have a special room prepared just for you; airtight. We've put on some great music, and there's all the tiles you could want in there."

"Woah, your hair is so snakey, man. How do you feed them?"

"It takes time and effort," came the snapped reply. "Now, just wait here a second while I call an escort."

The doctor walked to the door and knocked, and it then slid sideways to reveal two armoured officers, who stepped into the room.

"Woah, Iron Man! Sweet!" exclaimed Smoke, stepping towards them and holding out a finger. The officers reacted to his approach by producing, between them, a taser and a pistol.

"I have told you before, guns are useless against these people," the doctor said angrily. "Now, take him to his room, would you?"

As the guards took Smoke by the shoulders, he pulled back and said "Hey hey hey, I'm a big fan, but don't touch me alright? I don't want to get radiation poisoning."

"Oh, for fucks sake," yelled Triss, arms and legs melting into liquid as she threw herself from the gurney. The charge pulsed through her, sending her mind spinning and leaving a metallic sensation in her teeth, but this time she was ready and didn't pass out.

Standing, shaking her head, she shouted "Smoke, come here NOW!" and swung at the doctor, landing a blow that knocked him to the ground.

"Taze her!" he shouted, wiping blood from his lip.

The two guards fired, one the pistol the other the taser, but both passed harmlessly through her now silver chest, her legs and head maintaining their solid form.

"Well now," she said, "that's not very nice. Smoke, we need to get out of here. Run, right now!"

Smoke smiled at the guards, then at Triss, and said "I'm floating already, right? Let's go look at the stars!"

His form evaporated as he poured towards the vent, and Triss changed, silver liquid pouring up the wall and through the vent after him.

After a few seconds of silence, the doctor stood up and stared angrily at the two guards.

"You didn't have to let her hit me, damn you,” he said angrily. “Still, it's done now. You can let him know they got away easily - I think he'll be most pleased with the news."

The two guards nodded, and turned away.

Meanwhile, Shade and FX were lying in a cell, Shade on the bunk above FX, both curled up in their own worlds of pain.

"Listen, I'm not taking another beating like that. Surely you can do something like blind them, give us some time to get out of here. Hell, just get my hands untied and I'll blast us out."

FX was speaking up to the top bunk, unable to see Shade but confident he could hear him. He looked down at his hands, palms bound together by chain and cable. The only damage he could do right now was to himself.

"I'm going to try, ok. For god's sake, you saw me try, but every time they see the shadows move they smack me on the back of the head so hard I see stars. The shadows move too slowly. I need you to distract them."

"Distract them? How do I distract them when I'm lying on the floor getting my head kicked in!? You need to get faster."

Their argument was interrupted by the sound of the guards returning, four of them pulling the cell door aside and leaping in with fists and nightsticks. Shade was dragged from his bed, and the shadows he had tried to move snapped back to their original positions as he took blow after blow to his head, chest, and neck, smashing the breath from his body. FX curled up, trying to protect his body from the blows raining down on him, but he couldn't protect his legs or head, and the hits he received forced his body into spasms of pain, opening him up to further blows.

The guards were fearsomely silent, applying their weapons to maximum effect with barely a glimmer of pleasure or loathing. Their faces were masked, and they went about their business with a methodical approach, liberally spreading pain across the entire surface of their victims. As quickly as they began, they stopped, standing in a line blocking the door, staring at their two victims.

Shade and FX pulled themselves off the ground and slid backwards against the cell wall, warily eyeing the guards through the blood clouding their vision. "Well, we've got to do something. I can't take this again," FX said under his breath, spitting blood. Shade, wheezing badly, coughed.

"I can't... can't..." He choked, rasping.

One of the guards stepped forward and swung a nightstick into FX's jaw, dislodging a tooth which went flying across the floor. Turning to Shade, he raised his arms over his head, ready to deliver a powerful blow.

"NO!" shouted Shade, eyes opening through the blood.

Instantly, everything was black. As in the basement, FX instantly found himself without words or hearing, all senses dead.

Shade's voice spoke into his ear;

"I guess I got faster. Now, we need to get out of here. Take my hand."

FX felt Shade grab his hand, and they crawled across the floor.

"It's interesting. I'm fairly sure I have stopped them from moving at all. I genuinely can sense where they are now, and I'm holding them in place. Just follow me."

They crawled across the floor, and FX felt the metal runner that held the door in place pass under his hand. Standing stiffly and painfully, he hobbled along behind Shade, who was allowing just enough light in now to guide the way. After a few metres they came to the stairs, and began to stagger upwards. They'd only cleared a few steps when they heard the rattle of a canister drop in front of them and their path was filled with gas. Seeing Shade cough and collapse, FX felt despair well up, and his head grew heavy. As he fell to his knees, the anger bubbled up like a physical lump in his throat, and suddenly he knew how to release that rage.

The explosion of sound that followed, emanating from all around him, pushed out the walls to either side, smashed down the stairs and flung their tormentors into the air while sending the cell doors crashing in, and poured up and out, blasting open the lobby of the station and smashing open the roof, the gas pouring out as well. Car alarms activated for miles around, plaster fell from roofs, dust rose from the ground, and dogs howled, as FX, picking up Shade's comatose body, staggered up and out into the night.