Project: MI

Darkness. Pain. No air! Fingernails scratched and clawed desperately at the earth until finally they broke through into the light. Speeding up her efforts, Amanda broke through the ground and took a deep gulp of air—sweet, glorious, air. Never before had it tasted so sweet. Her breasts, barely hidden by the tattered remains of her shirt, heaved as she climbed out of the ruins of Malcolm's base, her lungs drinking in the air like wine. Amanda pulled her leg out and collapsed to the ground, resting her face against the warm ground.

Never had freedom and warm light felt so good on her bare skin before, and she savored every second of it.

“Over here!” she heard a voice call out, and she looked up to see a CHC agent rushing toward her, a Guardian following rapidly behind. Coughing, she rose up, her shirt slipping down over her shoulder slightly and she looked down at its pitiable state—burnt, tattered, and covered with dirt—before pulling it back up. Stubbornly, it slipped back down. Amanda decided to leave it be and she got to her feet, dusting off the remains of her jeans. A pointless gesture, but it helped her hands stay busy while she took stock of her situation.

That could have gone better… she commiserated, placing her hands on her hips. I've achieved nothing. The thought hung heavy in her mind, but for the moment—just a moment—she could barely summon the strength to care. Amanda felt deathly tired, but she tried to listen for any signals that Malcolm may be broadcasting. She heard nothing for the time being and she quickly gave up.

Sighing despondently, Amanda kicked lightly at the ground as the agent came to a halt before her. Behind him, she saw more agents, some approaching, flanked by Guardians, while others dug around the smoking ruins of Malcolm’s base.

“You sure got here quick,” she remarked to the agent with a sarcastic tone.

“Are you…all right, miss?” the agent asked hesitantly. Taking in her heavily damaged wardrobe, a furious blush crossed his features. Amanda shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the obvious source of his discomfort.

“I’ve had worse.”

“Um… We are under orders to…”

“…To arrest me, I know,” Amanda interrupted. “Don’t worry. I won’t resist.”

The agent glanced around him uncertainly, seeming to be at a loss at what to do. Returning his gaze to her, his expression hardened, as though coming to a decision. Swallowing, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over Amanda’s shoulders.

“This… This will have to do until we can replace your clothes,” he said. Amanda offered him a silent ‘thank you’ in the form of a smile as a host of Guardians took up position around her.

Daria was sitting at her desk, paging through the file on her computer when Kelly entered the room.

“Report,” Daria said without looking up.

“We’ve located the remains of the heroi’s base,” Kelly informed her. “Agents are going to be sifting through it for a while, but so far it looks as though Ms. Baker’s report has solid foundation. We’re looking at someone who has a clear understanding of Bronze Age technology.”

Daria glanced up at her and nodded before spinning her computer screen around, displaying the image of a dark-haired man. “Malcolm Maher,” she said. “The greatest tech genius of his era. The last one too until we found Teruo. He was last seen on the east coast just before the Great War ended. It had been assumed that he disappeared with all the other ruling heroi at the time.”

“Well,” Kelly began, adopting a more informal tone. “You know how they spell ‘assume’…”

“I doubt the higher ups will believe this even with Ms. Baker’s corroboration. I doubt they’ll want to believe it.” Daria rested her chin on her right hand as she furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Still, we have results now. Progress, and that’s what seems to matter. Can’t wait to hear how the media will spin Ms. Baker’s attack though.” One finger traced a line along her cheek as she grimaced, not enjoying the thought of a complication like what Amanda dropped into their lap. One unknown heroi from a bygone era hiding out under their nose was bad enough, but two?

Kelly could only offer her a supportive silence. It didn’t last long as Daria chose to broach another subject in a quieter tone.

“How are the…adoption procedures going? Any complications?”

“None on our part,” Kelly replied. “But I imagine Kira will be one anyway.”

“Is she properly suppressed?”

“In spite of her best efforts to not be, yes.”

Daria read the look on Kelly’s face. “Ouch,” she grimaced. “How bad?”

“Agent Gary received a black eye. She has good reflexes.”

“Gods damn it Amanda,” she whispered under her breath. “I just had to agree to this, didn’t I?”

“You know you aren’t legally bound to honor any deal you make with a heroi in custody,” Kelly offered tentatively. “You don’t have to have anything to do with the girl.”

Daria snorted and got out of her seat. “And be like my mother? No thanks.”

Come Hel or high water, she would stand by her promise as best she could.

Kira rubbed her arm where the needle mark was, glaring angrily at the padded walls around her. She wasn’t surprised that she was here. Not really. She expected that she would end up here at some point, given that she was a heroi. All the same, she didn’t want to be here, in this muffled, soft prison.

Her free hand ran the length down her arm and stopped at her knuckles, now bruised. Bereft of the protection of invulnerability, her whole hand throbbed. Still, it was a satisfying pain, and she hoped that the agent felt worse than she did.

Kira’s ears perked up at the sound of a crackling noise. A voice—artificially distorted she thought—spoke up from one of the loudspeakers as she looked over at the false mirror directly across from her.

“I see that you’ve calmed down a little,” said the voice. “How do you feel?”

Kira looked away, but the dark look on her face spoke volumes far better than anything she could put into words.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way,” the voice continued. “Allow me to introduce myself as the Director of the CHC, or just ‘the Director’ if you like.”

“I could care less,” Kira muttered. “Why don’t you show me your face? Are you scared or something?”

There was a pause on the other end before the speaker continued. “Perhaps a little. As I understand, you put up quite the fight today and injured one of my agents. Not very peaceful.”

“I don’t feel peaceful right now. Where’s my sister?”

“Safe for now.” Another pause. “Would you like to see her?”

Now that got Kira’s attention, and she quickly scrambled to her feet.

“Is she safe? How…?” Kira suddenly hesitated as suspicion crossed her features. “This is a trick, isn’t it? You want to get me to do something, right?”

“I won’t deny that it’s our intention for you to be more…cooperative.”

“Then go to Hel.”

There was a strained chuckle on the other end. “Do you talk to your mother that way?”

Kira leaned back against the wall and settled herself back down on the floor, not responding. The speaker sighed.

“We have entered into a deal with your mother. She has agreed to…take the fall for you. In exchange we will be providing care for your sister and repairing the damage that Romana Pax has done to her. As for yourself, you are included in that deal, but we would like an assurance that you will behave.”

Kira’s eyes flashed dangerously. “So you’re going to use Ran as a hostage?”

“We are not so cruel, Kira.”

The girl relaxed a little. “So what? My mom then?” That was a laugh. Her mother was responsible for everything Ran went through. As far as she was concerned, she deserved everything she got.

Didn’t she? That had been the line she told herself for so long now, but remembering that, in the end, it had been that very woman who broke into Romana Pax and freed Ran left a seed of doubt inside her.

“As I said,” the speaker continued, “we are not so cruel. It would also be…pointless in her case.”

Kira blinked, uncertain as to what that meant. She shifted uncomfortably in her spot. “Then…what?”

“Your mother didn’t tell you this, but you have been under this district’s protection for quite some time now. This…incident with your mother and Romana Pax has brought you and your family under scrutiny, and as more information comes out, there will likely be repercussions.”

“Hold on! You just said…”

“We are not so cruel,” the speaker emphasized, “and we would like to keep it that way. You are a high level Beta heroi, and because of that we cannot promise the same from others within our government. We have the ability to protect you as we did your mother for as long as you’ve been in this city. All we ask in return is your cooperation. If you promise us that much, then all the problems you have right now… Everything going on with your sister… We can make all that go away. But we can’t do it without your help. It is entirely up to you to make our job easier and keep yourself and your sister safe.”

Turning off the speaker system, Daria folded her arms across her chest as she took in Kira’s silence.

“Well,” she began quietly to Kelly, who stood next to her, “she seems to be thinking about it. That’s a good sign.”

“Do you think she’ll go for it?”

Daria shrugged before turning back on the speakers. She didn’t like to engage in what-ifs when the source of the answer was right in front of her.

“We’ll be releasing you into to care of a guardian. What you do is, as I said, up to you, so if there is anything you want or need…”

“I want to see Ran,” Kira interrupted. “I’m not doing anything until then. I don’t care what you say. I want to see her first.”

Daria paused before finally nodding. “All right,” she said. “We’ll send an agent to escort you to her.”

Turning off the intercom, Daria turned to Kelly. “All right,” she began. “Make sure that she is provided with a Companion before you leave.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow at this. “You’re not coming?”

Daria shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t want her to know that I’m the one in charge of all this.” She gestured around them for emphasis.

“I don’t think she’ll appreciate the deception,” Kelly said.

“Neither do I, but for now, the fewer complications, the better. All she needs to know is that when she meets me in person, I’ll just be the person taking care of her.”

Kira looked up from the small, tubular device Kelly Coleman handed to her with a look of disgust.

“A Companion?” she asked, recognizing it.

“This is not negotiable,” Kelly replied before continuing in a gentler tone. “I am sorry, but the Director needs assurance. Consider this a ‘trial basis’ until we can trust you.”

Kira was ready to argue, but the desire to see her sister welled up in her strongly. Taking the Companion, she twisted it, and an electric blue light flared to life in its eye.

“Companion Module, 1382…” it began in a cold, lifeless voice.

“Knock it off,” Kira grumbled, stuffing the Companion into her back pocket, where it continued to ramble its identification, though muffled. “All right, let’s go.”

They didn’t have to go very far, as the CHC had many suppression rooms available for processing and interrogating heroi. Kelly explained that, due to the sensitive nature of Ran’s case, and indeed the situation involving her family as a whole, they couldn’t afford to have her case processed by any of their processing centers that weren’t directly in the main building. In short order, Kelly took Kira into a room with a window that presented a familiar view of a padded room surrounded by speaker-like devices. In the center of the room sat Ran, legs crossed. Her upper body was wrapped in a jacket that tied her arms off. Her expression was neutral, and her eyes closed.

“Ran!” Kira exclaimed, rushing over to the window and hitting it with her hands. The noise caused the older girl’s eyes to open, startled. Kira looked over at Kelly desperately. “Quick! How do I talk to her?”

“There’s a button right here,” Kelly said, approaching and pointing out the intercom attached to the wall. “Just press this when you want to talk, or when you’re finished.”

Nodding a grateful thanks, Kira slid over to the speaker and hit it. “Ran!” she called again, and the girl’s head jerked around, as though trying to find her. There was something in her eyes that did not sit well with Kira, but she pressed onward.

“Kiddie Pie?” Ran whispered. Untangling her legs, she slowly, carefully so as to not upset her balance, got to her feet. “Is that you?”

Kira blinked back tears. “Yeah… It’s me. Ran! I…” She bit back a sob. “I’m so glad that you’re okay. Are you okay? Are you hurt or anything? Is there anything I can do for you?”

Ran approached the window—a mirror from her side—and brought herself to rest against it, caressing its surface with her cheek.

“Kiddie Pie…” she whispered. “I can’t fly anymore. I can’t go play.”

Ran retreated from the window, leaving a small smear from where a tear trickled out of one eye. Turning around, she let out a loud cry that startled Kira, causing her to jump. “I can’t find any of my friends! They don’t come! I can’t go and find them!”

“Ran…”

The girl spun around and rushed back up to the mirror, eyes alight. “You’ll help me, right? You’ll help me find all my friends! The doctor Jones and…and Jamie?” She pressed her face against the mirror again, angling her eye as if under the impression that by doing so she would be able to see what lay on the other side. “I still need to play with him! The doctor Jones wants me too! She won’t let me out if I don’t.”

“What…? I don’t…” Kira began, backing off with a horrified expression. Approaching, Kelly laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why is she like this?”

It was a pointless question. Kira knew that Romana Pax did something to her, and her encounter with her drove that point home very well. Still…it was a completely different thing to see this from her sister in person. At the time she refused to believe that the illusion projected by the older girl had been the form her sister adopted, or that she could be anything like the way she acted then.

“We are still investigating,” Kelly informed her. “I can’t tell you anything about what was done to her… I’m not authorized to tell you what we do know except that Romana Pax went to great lengths to affect her mind in such a way that she has seemingly regressed mentally.”

Kira pulled her hands into tight fists. “I want to know why they would do that! I don’t care what’s supposed to be a secret, I want to know!” She approached the window and placed her hand upon its surface, where Ran’s face lay. “They’re going to pay for this,” she whispered under her breath so as to not be heard. “I promise you Ran. I will make them pay!”

He beheld darkness, broken only by a light—a small one, little more than a dot. He ignored the dot in favor of trying to see something amidst the never-ending night that surrounded him.

“Where am I?” the young boy asked, squinting his eyes. He felt something solid beneath his feet, but he saw nothing. The darkness might as well have been a solid object for all the good his eyes did him. Holding out his hands, he stumbled forward, hoping to find at least something that could ground him, even if he didn’t know what it was. Having something other than what lay beneath his feet that he could touch would do him a world of favors. As it was, the unending, thick shadow left him with a disorienting, sick feeling that he was floating in nothing. Even though he knew there was something below…

Scratch that. The young boy’s foot came down, and the expectation of solid foundation was destroyed utterly, causing him to cry out in horror and flail about in an attempt to find something to grab onto. His stomach churned while he spun in the air, and with every second that passed, his heart thudded against his chest, flooding his body, wetting muscles and his brain with its terror. He clenched his teeth, trying desperately to keep the fear—a living, twisting, spidery terror—from clawing its way out of his throat and howling its triumph to the shadow.

He spotted the pinpoint of light, and at once the whole world stopped dead in its tracks. He hung there, suspended in midair, panting heavily, grateful that he was now no longer spinning, all the while wondering just what had happened.

“Who are you?”

“Huh?” The youth looked around him, puzzled by the voice that emerged unexpectedly from…where, exactly? As he searched for its owner, his mind was already turning the question over in his mind. Who exactly was he? Now that he thought about it…

“Who are you?”

“I…don’t know?” He blinked at his half-question before speaking again, this time louder, and with more certainty. “I don’t know. I don’t know!”

A new fear began to build up in him just then, trumping the terror from his spinning. Reflexively, his hands, which earlier had been questing for some sign of his surroundings, went to his face, touching his features to confirm that he had at least that much and not a blankness as equally unrecognizable as his surroundings. A nose, eyes, lips, hair… They, unfortunately, told him nothing about who he was.

“I can tell you who you are…” the voice prompted. “I know.”

“You do?!” the boy asked desperately, turning toward the pinprick of light—what he now believed to be the source of the voice. “Tell me!”

The light now grew before him—or approached, he wasn’t sure. It grew in intensity until he was forced to shield his eyes. An image of a boy began to materialize within the light. Squinting harder, the youth tried desperately to see who it was, but the light obscured the figure, cloaking him with shadow. A ghost of a smile appeared on the figure’s face as he replied.

“You are…”

“…James Grey?”

Blinking blearily, Jamie awoke, wet and shivering atop an operating table. He felt something attached to his stomach pull away, but he paid it no mind, and instead turned away from the bright operating light above him and toward a goggles-wearing man with a medical mask over his mouth. Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but with the oxygen mask over it he could only get out a muffled noise. The doctor nodded all the same, as if he had expected this.

“Welcome back, James. You have been through a serious accident today, but you’re safe now. Safe and all right. Can you move your toes?”

Jamie nodded without thinking as to why the man was asking such a question and closed his eyes, feeling his feet curl and wiggle said appendages.

“Good, good,” the doctor nodded again. “And your hands? Can you lift them?”

Jamie did that as well.

“You’re a very lucky kid, James. Very lucky indeed.” The doctor looked up at the nurses surrounding him. “All right. Let’s get him to a recovery room.”

Where am I? he wanted to ask, but his mind felt sluggish and groggy, possibly from anesthetics. His memory was spotty as well, as he found himself unable to readily recall why he was there in the first place.

I hope Monster’s okay, he thought as the nurses began to dry him off before covering him with a blanket. That guy in the park was really freaky…

The thought felt…off, but try as he might he couldn’t explain why. Warmth immediately began to settle over his body as he chased the thought around. The grogginess in his mind refused to allow him to pursue it for much longer, and he quickly dropped back off to sleep.

The doctor furrowed his brow as the nurses carted Jamie out of the operating room. Pulling off his gloves, he looked back at the medical pod thoughtfully.

“So I take it everything went swimmingly?”

Whirling about back in the direction of the door, the doctor saw Bruce Kane step inside.

“Yes,” he replied, tossing the gloves into the nearest waste basket. “It went about as I expected. There was no rejection of the treatment. All that is left now is rehabilitation—muscle and brain stimulation namely so that he can be back up to speed. We’ll have to move him to a less…chaotic facility however.” Reaching up, he adjusted his goggles. “Don’t expect that this will be a perfect job though. Thanks to your sudden orders we had to flush him out quickly.”

“You do a wonderful job, doctor,” Kane assured him. “They don’t call you the Life Maker for nothing.”

The doctor harrumphed at the title scornfully. “Maybe so, but I’ve found that nature favors the hidden flaw. I remember how things went last time with that child’s psychological delusion…”

Kane raised one hand at that, as though urging him to watch his tone or his words. The doctor harrumphed again.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable. Anyway, what’s done is done. I’ll put together some medication that should correct any unexpected flaws that show up…and they will. Rush jobs are slop jobs.”

“The whole world is counting on you to make sure that’s not the case.”

“Just as I am sure the world was counting on you to make sure that this didn’t happen at all. We can only do this so many times. Depending on me…” The doctor laughed bitterly. “That…” The doctor turned back toward Kane, a dark look on his face. “…is a bad idea.”

Taking hold of the lid on the medical pod, the doctor—the Life Maker—slammed it down with a resounding clang.

How much time went by since Jamie found himself on an operating table he did not know, but as he awoke in a hospital room to find a setting sun dipping behind the building across the street he had something of an idea. A blurry memory of him lying on the ground, Justin over him with a scared expression on his face came to mind, remembering that the sun was fairly high up in the sky.

Justin! At the memory he bolted upward, or at least attempted to, but fell back almost as soon as he started to rise, letting out a woof upon landing back on the bed’s mattress. His arms felt weak and uncooperative. His heart pounded hard in his chest, as if to tell him he was working too hard.

“Beth?” he began, looking around him. The name sounded…strange and unfamiliar to his lips, but he looked to his side, expecting to find the Companion Device sitting next to his bed. There was nothing for him to find however. Nothing but himself and the room’s plant sitting over in the corner.

Off to his side, he heard the door creak open, and in walked a female nurse with a food tray in her hands. Upon seeing that he was awake, she flashed him a smile.

“Glad to see that you’re up,” she greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Jamie croaked, trying to get into a sitting position. His voice had an odd note to it, like he wasn’t used to it. “My arms hurt.”

The nurse nodded in understanding.

“We were told that you would be like that when you were brought in from Clark General,” she said, stopping at the side of his bed. Her lips were pressed together into one thin line, as though finding something about the hospital distasteful. “We have you scheduled for physical therapy. You were injured pretty seriously today. Do you remember any of it?”

Jamie thought for a moment before shaking his head. Something was missing. It felt just outside of his reach, like he could reach it if he tried hard enough, but for now it danced just beyond his reach. With the way he felt right now…

“That’s all right,” the nurse said, setting up the tray on his bed. “I wouldn’t want to remember something like that. Do you need help with eating?”

Jamie slowly raised one hand and took the fork sitting on the tray and lifted it. The action took surprisingly more effort than it should have, and his wrist shook before the utensil fell from his fingers. His wrist dropped back down as he gave a small cry of dismay.

“It’s okay,” the nurse said, touching his arm soothingly and lifting the fork. “I can help you with that. Pulling up a chair, the nurse set herself down so she was facing him more fully and began to stir together the boy’s meal—mashed potatoes with beef gravy and a side of mixed vegetables.

“I can do it!” Jamie said irritably, and he once again tried to pull himself up. His arms protested, refusing to lift him, and he groaned, his irritation turning quickly to frustration.

“Easy there,” the nurse said, taking a more firm hold of his shoulder. “You’ll have plenty of time to beat yourself up tomorrow. Right now you just need to focus on getting your strength back up.”

Before surrendering to the indignity of having to be spoon fed—or in this case fork-fed—Jamie made one last attempt to have some measure of independence and used his legs to push himself up into a more suitable sitting position. His legs weren’t in any better shape from the way they also complained, but they did the job better than his arms.

“What happened to me?” Jamie asked, looking down at his arms. “Why am I so tired?”

The nurse pressed her lips together and gave him a sympathetic look. “You’ll have to ask a doctor or one of the other nurses later,” she replied, her voice changing slightly. “I’m…only here for you.”

Jamie’s head snapped up at her in confusion before recognition tickled at the back of his mind. As he watched the nurse, the skin around her face paled and an amber color flooded her irises.

“Mo…” Jamie shook his head and tried to back away from the ‘nurse. Something in him could not say her full name. It slipped away from his tongue, much like everything else danced merrily out of his reach.

“Monique,” she finished for him, her skin flushing back with color and her amber eyes reverting to their previous color of simple brown. She looked a little saddened by his reaction, but she quickly schooled her face to stillness. “I’m sorry about this, but when I heard you were being moved I had to see if you were all right.”

Jamie looked frantically around for the call button, but upon spying it, found himself unable to perform the simple task of lifting his arm and taking hold of it. Clenching his teeth, he tried desperately to command his arm to move.

Why am I so freaked out by her? he wondered. He could only barely remember anything right now. His memories were a jumbled mess, but all he knew was that, right now, he was deathly afraid of this nurse-turned-metamorph.

A memory of a girl, younger than the nurse, standing in his home, flashed through his mind, only to stop there. Something happened there. What…?

Jamie’s thoughts and struggles stopped as a gentle hand placed itself on his face and turned him toward Monique, who quietly slipped a spoon full of mashed potatoes into his mouth. It tasted…surprisingly good for hospital food.

“Mwuh…?” he mouthed, tense but unmoving.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded before spooning up another batch of mashed potatoes. “Just focus on getting your strength back up, okay?”

He saw her tilt her head toward him, as though looking at something. Whatever it was, she seemed intent on it. Jamie swallowed his food. His stomach suddenly growled eagerly, demanding more. The memory and fear still tickled him at the back of his mind, but for now they seemed less important than they did a moment ago. She seemed to genuinely want to help him.

Relaxing his guard just a little, Jamie decided for now to accept her help, if only tentatively.

Monique felt a touch unsettled, but only a little.

At least now he’s calming down, she thought as she continued to feed the boy. Maybe he’ll trust me?

She sighed mentally. If only it could be that simple…

As she leaned forward to feed him again, that sense of unease came again as she looked him in the eyes.

It may have been just a trick of the light, but she could almost swear that one of his eyes was of a different color than the other.

Dumping the transmat device into some bushes for safe-keeping, Teruo approached his house and ducked into the alleyway. Rushing over to the fence, he took hold of it and pulled himself over, only for his grip to slip as he went. He struck the ground, knee first, and a sickening pain cut loose throughout his body. Swearing mightily, but quietly, he forced himself back to his feet and limped over to the back door, hoping that John was not home, or at least was somewhere well enough away from the house’s entrances so he could get back in without being noticed.

He hoped to the gods that his absence had likewise been unnoticed.

He didn’t think that was the case though, and he was quickly proven right as he pushed the door open with a low creak, alerting the man in the kitchen to his presence.

“Oh dongles,” Teruo muttered, seeing John sitting at the table, a grave expression on his face.

“I don’t suppose you would care to explain where you were this time, would you?”

“Practicing my escape artist routine mostly,” Teruo replied, coming inside and closing the door behind him. “But also trying to find a way to get you to see Jenny again. It’s been how many days since I last got arrested by her?”

John did not look in the least bit pleased by this story.

“Seriously,” Teruo muttered just loud enough for John outside his room to hear him while absently reading a small graphic novel on his bed, “what do I have to do to get that guy to ask her out?”

John of course hadn’t bought that story, so he fell back on a half-truth that he had been looking for his creation—the spider-bot that he lost in the junkyard—but bugged out when he saw the CHC arriving in force. It was true enough, and John, though still angry with him, had put in a call to keep an eye out for such a robot.

Of course, the problem with a tiny machine in a landfill full of machines was that it was a junkyard version of the proverbial needle in a haystack. To top things off, the spider-bot was programmed to avoid being detected by CHC agents and AI’s. He highly doubted that he would see his little creation for quite a long while now.

Teruo sighed despondently and turned the page of his novel, revealing a picture of a costumed heroi getting a hole shot through his chest by a normal wearing a dark-brown trench coat. Government sponsored propaganda against the nation of Albion no doubt, as they still had among the largest number of active heroi in the world in spite of how the Bronze Age ended.

Oh well… At least the trip wasn’t a total loss.

A small grin played across his face as he glanced at his secret compartment where all his stolen data lay hidden, waiting for him to put to full use now that he had what he wanted most.

Wasn’t a total loss at all…