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Having grown up in Los Angeles, Kyle had never experienced cold weather the likes of what one might find in Canada. Even when he joined the Marines, he'd never experienced any temperatures that hit far below freezing, as his three tours of service had taken him to arid countries across the world. Most notably Iraq, and later Afghanistan, fighting insurgent factions. Countries where it never became so cold. Least of all the likes of Northern Montana and Southern Alberta, where he had now spent the last two years.

The base in which he now stood had been his home for almost two years now. Two years since he deserted the Marines and lost any hope of going home again. He'd only stepped out into the mountain air a few times, and only for drills or training purposes. Today, he had stepped out of his own volition, to look across the Canadian Rockies, marvelling at the high, snowy peaks of one of the longest mountain chain in the world.

So isolated, so far from civilization… So blind to the world beyond. Just as he had been.

When he had left the Marines and been recruited by the P.A.C.E Directive, they had been in the process of moving their base to Canada. Previously, they had been situated in the United States, in a location he barely remembered having only been there a single week. But he remembered reading about at least two operations where the Retrieval teams had hopped over the Mexican border to pursue aberrations in the lands of the US's southern neighbour.

For the two years he'd been with P.A.C.E, the job had been simple. Easy to understand, and not so different from his time as a soldier. But the most recent operation had tested his confidence, and his understanding of what he'd been doing. Never had P.A.C.E operatives turned their weapons upon law enforcement, attacked prisons or done anything outwardly immoral.

As far as Kyle knew, the ones they had been sent to pick up, while intelligent, were dangerous - a threat to national security. That had been nothing new to him - certainly the existence of phoenixes, telepaths and meta-genetic beings was new to him, but P.A.C.E's actions to contain and study them didn't feel so different from what his own government would have done if they had known about them. It made perfect sense, and Kyle saw no reason to question it.

Until recently, at least. Something was no longer adding up, and he needed to figure it out…

Knowing he'd soon be missed, Kyle turned and walked back into the base. The hangar was being used for training that day, being the most spacious location inside the base. The retrieval teams - including some new recruits, were running laps around the hangar led by Commander Three. Seeing Robert at the head, he knew it was Team Three, training hard to make up for their recent failures when next they'd be deployed. Even without Robert, four of Team Three's operatives had accompanied Adrian on his last operation, and all of them had been captured, later extracted by Kyle's team.

The hangar was otherwise empty, save for their only remaining Retriever, still undergoing repairs. The other two Retriever VTOL's had vanished without a trace, their locator beacons inactive. One had been severely damaged, and certainly not flight-worthy yet it was nowhere to be found. The other, however, was strange - the pilot, when recovered, had claimed the ship had not been brought down. It had been flown away, completely intact, and still carrying a Cyber Soldier on board.

He didn't need to question the logic of taking the VTOL's. To any good soldier, it would be obvious. They wanted to understand the technology that was designed to kill them; know thy enemy, know thyself, fear not the result of a hundred battles. Strategy one-oh-one.

Kyle crossed the hangar, heading for the main doors leading back into the base interior. But just as the doors opened, he nearly ran smack into another operative coming through. They both stopped on a dime, eyes meeting.

"Commander," the male lab said, snapping a crisp salute.

"At ease, trooper," said Kyle.

"Reporting for training, sir," the soldier replied.

Kyle noticed there were five others coming up the corridor behind the soldier, all of whom saluted upon seeing their team leader. Kyle motioned for them to be at ease, rather than say it aloud.

"Join up with Team Three for now," Kyle said automatically, making it up as he went but not knowing why he was. "Tell Commander Three I will return later and that you are under his command for the time being until I come back."

"Sir?" The man in front of him asked.

"I just have something to do before we get to training," Kyle replied. “I won't be long."

The five troopers looked at each other, quizzical. But they stepped aside to let Kyle pass between them. He walked calmly, not looking at them, and proceeded down the corridor as the five troopers walked into the hangar, the door closing behind them. Kyle headed back to his cabin, locking the door behind him before taking a seat at his computer. He opened up the folder for after-action reports, and scrolled down to the bottom.

The folders were arranged by year, from the earliest captures by the P.A.C.E Directive. It went much further back than he'd realized, back to the year two thousand in fact. He'd only been twelve years old when P.A.C.E had carried out its first assignment. He opened the folder, and began reading through the reports.

The first folder contained only six after-action reports, carried out by the first Retrieval Team to ever serve with P.A.C.E before his time - before even Adrian's time, under a commander that was no longer with the group having been killed in action. He imagined he'd find that report sooner or later. Of the six reports in the year two thousand, however, only one had been one success.

The previous five had resulted in the targets being eliminated, as capture proved unsuccessful. One wolf with meta-genes, two telepaths - one, also a telekinetic, and three practitioners of magic, had been the subjects of capture. Only one of the magicians had been captured, when they raided his home in the night and captured the wizard while he slept. It was the first successful operation in P.A.C.E history, as the outfit was still new and learning how to fight these 'dangerous beings' as the report referred to them.

In the following years folder, the first report of the year was also a success, followed by two failures. The fourth operation of the year was another success, and it was here that the original R.T Commander had been killed in action. It was also the first report with the keyword 'phoenix'. That caught his attention.

'Yukon Territories, Northern Canada,' he read, going on to read the date as having been late February of that year, and coordinates leading to an isolated location in the vast Canadian Wilderness. A perfect hiding place for anything that didn't want to be found.

The subject had been a male Ice Phoenix, the first of his kind to ever be encountered by P.A.C.E. Curious, Kyle backed out of the report, and typed a search for other reports with the keyword Phoenix.

There were none.

Kyle blinked. On second look, he realized there were some but his gaze had glazed over those reports, because he already knew them. He had written one of them.

"Five? That's it?" He asked aloud. The P.A.C.E Directive, as far as he knew, had been active for nearly twenty years, and in that time they had only encountered phoenixes five times, with three of those encounters being in the same year?

He went back to the report on the ice phoenix again. The operation had resulted in the capture of the subject, but not without casualties. The original Commander One, whose real name was omitted from the report, had been struck down by the Ice Phoenix before they could detain him. Just like that, Kyle remembered something else.

Something clicked with Kyle then as he read the report. "Demanded… To know where his father was…" he muttered to himself, repeating what Adrian had said when they'd brought him back from jail. Said by the Ice Phoenix at the rink.

The first phoenix they had ever discovered, had been a father. Not some lone aberration wandering the world - he'd had a family. A family that even a decade and a half later wanted him back.

Kyle hastily opened the second report, the one that took place before the three they had made that year. It was two years after the Ice Phoenix - and the same year Adrian had joined P.A.C.E himself and brought special forces training to the later Retrieval Teams. Adrian had not led this operation, Kyle noted, but P.A.C.E had indeed encountered a second Phoenix, designated as an Aquatic Phoenix, living in the Polynesian Islands. They had failed to capture their target, but they had secured…

An egg. The target had been a mother. What had happened to the baby, or her mate? He searched, but that information was not available to him. He grunted, leaning forward on his desk and tapping his chin in thought, before he decided to open the more recent action reports. He'd already read them before, but now, he was reading them with a new perspective…

Kyle felt ill.

The report he read - the report he himself had written, and the address book in his hand, had confirmed what he suspected. The house where his team had chased the Wind Phoenix to was owned - the address in the book listed the house as owned by Richard Stevenson. A quick search on his name listed him as a meteorologist, working in one of Canada's weather stations - one that was actually not far away from P.A.C.E's base.

But Richard was far too old to be the same Wind Phoenix that Kyle had been chasing. That could only mean that this other one was Richard's son. Kyle had almost kidnapped - or murdered, someone's child.

"What the fuck kind of soldier am I?" He asked himself, before he angrily threw the address book behind him, fingers clawing at his scalp as the book thudded against the opposite wall before falling onto his bunk.

Fathers… Children… Kyle was not innocent of killing either even when he was a marine. The insurgents he'd fought in the Middle East had been fathers. Some of those fathers had even sent their own children to fight, forcing Kyle to act in self-defense, but this… This was not that. That Wind Phoenix had not threatened him, nor been a danger to anyone else, yet Kyle had been ready to…

He had to stop the thought, to keep himself from losing his breakfast. He collected himself, taking calming breaths. His thoughts inevitably drifted back, however, to the other reports… The Ice Phoenix - the father. What had become of him? The baby of the Aqua Phoenix from the islands, whose mother his predecessors had killed and stole her child. What had happened to it? Where were they, and why was he not allowed to access that information? What had the research team done with them?

He had to find out…

~~~~~

The researchers were too distracted, looking at data on their tablets, to notice the one sneaking up behind them, sneaking through the door they had walked through before it closed behind them. Kyle ducked into the frame of another door before the researchers might think to look back, wondering why the automatic sliding doors had not shut.He allowed himself to breathe easily when they didn't turn around.

Kyle stepped out from his hiding place, continuing up the hall. He adjusted his balaclava, ensuring that his face was well hidden behind it. Troopers were not allowed down here, unless they were part of the laboratory security force. Otherwise, Retrieval Teams were never supposed to venture even outside the elevator on this level. For this reason, it was his first time ever entering the research level.

As he crept further up the corridor, a huge window stretched over the wall to his left. It seemed odd for there to be a window here - they were deep underground, certainly not a place where someone could look out at the scenery. But there was a faint light coming through it, very reminiscent of the sun reflecting off a snow-covered surface. Did they really have a window outside?

They did not.

Kyle's heart felt like it had fallen into his stomach as he looked through the window, and saw what he could only describe as a prison block. The window opened up into a massive room, lined with catwalks over five separate floors. On each of these floors were cells, many of which were occupied.

Security troopers, dressed in more advanced tactical gear than what Kyle himself wore on operation, patrolled the catwalks. They wore full Kevlar armour, unmarked, and thick rounded helmets with metal face masks and thick, large goggles, obscuring their faces. Each of them was armed with military grade weapons. HK-G36 assault rifles, he recognized - he'd never seen those in the armoury before. Not the one he had access to, at least…

Perhaps more surprising to him was how many there were, of both the guards and the prisoners. There were more than he dared believe, yet somehow there seemed fewer than he might have expected, as the number of reports had been quite numerous. Were there more Retrieval Teams that he didn't know about? Just how far did P.A.C.E's reach really go? How much of what he had been told had been nothing but lies?

Whatever was really going on, it was certainly more than Kyle had ever been privileged to know. Did the other team commanders know about this? What was really down on the research levels? That also begged the question, where was the laboratory?

Kyle kept going, making his steps as light as possible, until he reached a corner. This time though his heart leapt into his throat, as he came face-to-face, with an all-too familiar orange-furred anthropian cat, staring daggers at him. Adrian was accompanied by two security personnel, both of them had their rifles raised, aimed at Kyle, their fingers on the triggers. Their metal face masks and goggles hid their features, both of them either canid, lupine or vulpine – that much he could tell, but he couldn't be sure.

"Well well," said Adrian in a cold tone. "Look who decided to go poking around in dark, scary places where he doesn't belong?" He emphasized the last two words. "You think the doctor didn't know what you were doing, Commander Two? Or should I just call you, Specialist Kyle Darwinson of the USMC? Because you clearly aren't one of us."

Seeing no point to the disguise anymore, Kyle pulled off his balaclava, throwing it aside to glare at Adrian. "You knew about this?" He asked, pointing back at the window leading into the prison "You knew this was down here?"

"Of course I knew," Adrian stated. "I've known since I first enlisted with P.A.C.E, after the incompetent fools at the Pentagon discharged me. Dr. Rex didn't have to hide anything from me when he hired me to train these fine gentlemen," he gestured to the two security personnel.

"Those people," said Kyle. "They aren't the monsters we've been led to think they are. That Phoenix - all of them. They have families! They-"

"Oh cry me a river you simpleton," Adrian cut him off. "All the people you've killed, even when you were a marine, had families. That didn't stop you then."

"This isn't the same as that!" Kyle snapped. "Those people in that prison, they were brought here against their will!"

That was the wrong thing to say as a defense, he knew. Even Adrian laughed at him. "And you didn't know that from the moment you first began bringing them here?" He asked.

Kyle shook his head briskly. "They have done nothing to deserve this! They're not monsters, they're just people!"

"They are assets," Adrian stated flatly. "Expendable assets. Beings with special gifts that choose instead to live in secret, rather than utilize them to their fullest potential." He shook his head. "Such a waste. So, instead we'll have to use it for them, since they won't. And, if they ever did become a threat…" he shrugged. "Well, how do you think the Disruptors were made? We've been prepared for that outcome for years."

"So all this was never about protecting people or the betterment of life," said Kyle. "Dr. Rex is just doing this for personal power?"

"Why does anyone do anything, you stupid fool?" Adrian asked. "Why does the United States invade countries that are no threat to them? Because they want something that the other country has. It is no different than this."

"This is nothing like that!" Kyle defiantly shot back. "We don't have the right to use these people as test subjects!"

Adrian rolled his eyes and groaned angrily. "I grow tired of this," he said. "Take him."

The two security personnel stepped forward, their rifles trained on Kyle. Seeing no other way, Kyle relaxed his posture, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender…

They bought the fake out. One of them approached him, and Kyle made his move. He seized the closest soldier, spinning him around to face the other. In the same motion, he seized the trooper's sidearm, ripping it from its holster, and shot the other one as they raised their weapon. The bullet ricocheted off the face mask, striking an angle, but still knocking the masked guard back.

Kyle then turned the gun on Adrian, but the guard he had seized twisted sharply, throwing off his aim. He seized Kyle by the arm, and attempted to pull him off his feet. Kyle held his footing, and the two went into a tangle, throwing each other into the walls. The security personnel, unlike the Retrieval teams, had not come to depend on technology to win their battles for them. These men were trained to fight other people, armed or not.

That being said, Kyle was much more experienced in real life combat, and experience was always the better teacher. Kyle bared his teeth as he struck the man in the face multiple times with his gloved hand, using the hardened knuckles of his glove to crush his goggles, trying to strike his vulnerable eyes. The guard turned his head away, and Kyle drove his knee into his gut, sending him reeling.

By now the other guard was up. He raised his rifle, but Kyle was faster. He fired twice with his pistol before running up the corridor, striking the guard in the chest. Kyle was sure the armour would take the blows. Adrian, his own sidearm in hand, fired back at Kyle, three times. The first two bullets missed, but Kyle felt the third one strike him in the back. Fortunately, he too had a Kevlar vest on, and the Sig Sauer used by Adrian did not have the necessary power to pierce it.

Kyle used the impact to twist himself around and shot back at Adrian. He saw the cat go down, but the human had no way to know if it had been a fatal shot. He didn't waste a minute as he turned back around, running up the hall toward the doors. They slid apart, opening the way for him, and he ran back to the elevator.

Unfortunately, when Kyle pressed the call button, nothing happened. He looked at the controls, and saw that the elevator was locked down. He looked around, noting a surveillance camera in the corner looking his way, and cursed. In a flash of anger he shot the camera, and then ran for the stairwell door go the side. He practically rammed the door open with his shoulder, and hurriedly began to climb the stairs.

He stopped as a thought occurred to him. Going up wasn't the answer. He had to go down. There was only one way out of the base - if he tried to go out the hangar, he'd freeze to death on the mountains, and that was assuming that the rest of P.A.C.E didn't find him first. With that thought in mind, he ran back down the steps.

The door he had come out of started to open. Without looking at it, he kicked it, knocking back whoever was on the other side, and practically jumped down the steps as he ran. The door above flew open, and he heard two shots ring out, hitting the wall behind him, before footsteps thundered down the stairs after him. Kyle looked back only once, taking a shot at his pursuer - he saw a boot, just before his bullet struck the wall and the boot pulled back. It bought him only another second, but every one he could get were more steps he could leap down.

Kyle nearly fell as he swung around the banister to go down the next flight. He managed to keep going, but as he reached the next landing, the door flew open, and another guard lunged out at him. This one wasn't carrying a firearm, he noted. They had a baton, one that coursed with electricity as they swung. Kyle relied on his first instinct, snatching the man's arm, putting his pistol to his goggles, and killing him in a single shot between the eyes, then threw the body back through the door as more personnel tried to come out, knocking them back.

Kyle resumed his descent, reaching the next landing, and pulled off his glove as he pressed it against the palm reader of the door. Yes! They had forgotten to disable the palm readers - the door opened, he pulled it ajar and stepped through. Ahead of him was the tram - a secondary means of access to and from the base.

He had little doubt that the command center was already issuing commands to disable the train if he tried to use it. Kyle did not bother, running past the tram and jumping down onto the tracks. He ran, going straight down the dark train tunnel leading through the mountain. He heard footsteps coming out onto the platform, but no gunshots, as he disappeared into the blackness.

Kyle did however hear the tram car's motor suddenly start up. Looking back, he saw that its lights were on as the vehicle powered, ready to carry his pursuers after him. He couldn't possibly outrun the moving train on his own.

Thinking quickly he threw himself off the tracks, onto the walkway that ran parallel to the tram line - for maintenance personnel usually, in case the tram wasn't working. He pressed himself flat against the stone wall, trying to look like he was part of it, as the train raced down the tunnel toward him.

He expected to be noticed. He sat up, down on one knee, as the train approached. Only three men were on board. He could handle that, but he had to time this exactly right…

The men on board the tram hit the brakes, seeing Kyle. He raised his pistol and fired at the driver just as the tram slowed. He kept shooting as he ran at the window, the gun clicking as its magazine was emptied, and then he jumped. The remaining two inside were off balance, and he kicked through what remained of the windshield, landing on his feet and throwing himself at one of the two troopers.

They fell into the wall, and Kyle ripped the man's weapon from his hand. He turned on the other occupant, successfully putting a three round burst through his mask before they could raise their weapon, and then did the same to the one he had knocked down. Not missing a moment, even as he gasped for breath, Kyle ran to the front of the tram car and started it again.

He set aside his rifle, and then got to work dumping the three bodies off the tram. He made sure to take their ammunition first before pushing them out onto the rails. From there, he walked back to the front of the car - and nearly fell when it lurched, beginning to slow down.

They had cut power to the tram again. He had expected this of course. Picking up the G36 he had taken, Kyle leapt off the tram, and started jogging up the tunnel. He heard the tram start up again, but this time it was going back.

It had given him the head start he needed at least. The tunnel was not long, and he could already see his way out ahead…

Back on the platform, Adrian - rifle in hand, waited with nine other security personnel for the returning tram. They heard it coming up the hallway, before there was a sound. Adrian didn't know what the first sound was, but it was followed by a deafening shriek of metal on metal. He resisted the urge to throw his hands over his ears, wishing he'd worn his helmet.

In a moment the sound stopped. Adrian lifted his gaze again, and looked at the security personnel. Even behind their masks and goggles he imagined they were confused. With an angry grunt he kicked one of them in the back of the leg.

"What're you standing around for?!" He shouted. "Go check it out!"

The nine troopers responded, running over to the tunnel and switching on their mounted flashlights, shining them down the passage.

They were barely ten meters from the platform before they found the train, lying on its side and blocking most of the tunnel. When Adrian came over, he gaped at the sight. "What the fuck happened?!" He demanded.

"We'll find out, Commander," one of the men said, speaking with a synthetic voice through his metal mask. He entered the tunnel, three others following him, and they searched along the tracks for the cause of the wreck.

Adrian heard the elevator door slide open behind him. He expected to find more security, and was ready to berate them for how long it had taken for them to arrive. But the ones who stepped out of the elevator had the words dying immediately in his throat, almost choking as the other guards around him snapped to attention, leaving him the last to do so as his mind caught up with him.

"Dr. Rex!" He exclaimed.

"Commander One," the elderly man said, before gesturing to the much younger, yet oddly similar-looking man beside him. "I believe you remember my son, Gabriel."

"Y-Yes sir," said Adrian. “Our Intel Chief, of course."

“Steady yourself, Commander." The younger male calmly stated, lifting a hand up as a gesture of dismissal. “Take a moment to compose yourself before you give your report. It would look rather… embarrassing to have our top operative stumbling over his words in front of his men."

Adrian had to fight back his scowl at the remark, never one to take kindly to being looked down upon by anyone. Even the second in command of the entire directive. He reined in his ego, dropping his salute before he spoke. "We have a rogue, sir," he began. "Commander Two was in the restricted area. We attempted to apprehend him but he escaped into the tunnel."

"And was it him who crashed the tram?" Dr. Rex asked, gesturing down the tunnel with his cane.

"We don't yet know how that happened, sir. If he was on it though, the crash would have surely killed him," replied Adrian.

“I doubt that he was on the tram." Gabriel piped up, turning his gaze toward the tunnel. “Or more accurately, I doubt he was on the tram when it crashed… If anything, I suspect that he's outside the base right at this very moment, fleeing on foot to the nearest settlement where he can properly discard anything that can link him to P.A.C.E." He concluded in a calculating manner.

"With all due respect, sir, we are in the middle of the mountains. The only way out he has is via our land vehicles, and the road down is treacherous," Adrian offered. "We can still catch him. We can use the Retriever in the hangar."

"That Retriever is not ready yet," said Rex. "We had to dismantle its power source to repair the Disruptor. It will still take hours to get it flight worthy again, and that would be to fly without the Disruptor."

"Then we can pursue him in one of the utility vehicles," offered Adrian. "We will catch him, sir. I won't let him get away."

As he spoke, the team that went into the tunnel returned. One of them had his mask off, and looked as though he had just vomited. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the one without his mask, a flash of disapproval present in his gaze once their eyes met.

“It's my understanding that removal of one's tactical gear is prohibited while on duty, so for your sake, you better have a decent reason as to why you removed your mask." He stated

"S-Sorry sir," the unmasked man stated.

"We... Found what caused the tram to crash," another of the security personnel stated. "It appears that Commander Two managed to kill the three men on board who were chasing him, and he dumped their bodies out. It looks like one of them fell right onto the tracks. When the tram came back… It ran over the body. Impacting his helmet caused it to derail."

“Interesting." Gabriel mused. “A clever ploy to make sure it would be harder for us to track him down. Of course, to use a deceased corpse in doing so is quite… overkill, in the literal sense of the word. A simple rock or even one of their weapons would have been enough to derail the tram."

"I don't believe he planned it, sir," the first guard said. "The bodies were far apart and laid out rather haphazardly. I think he just dumped them while the tram was on the move."

"A pure stroke of luck," said Rex, scoffing. "Well, get after him then, before he gets too far ahead."

The guards shouted an acknowledgement before they turned and began running down the tunnel, leaving Adrian with the doctor and his son. "Shall I go as well, doctor?"

"No," replied Rex. "For the moment, I need you here. I want you to interrogate the rest of Team Two, make sure they know their Commander has gone rogue and find out if they knew anything about it. If they are innocent, and if he attempts to contact any of them, they are to report it directly to one of us three."

"Understood," replied Adrian, snapping another salute.

"My son," Rex stated as he turned to look at Gabriel. "I leave it to you and your covert operatives. Track down our former Commander Two, and silence him. He must not lead anyone back to us."

Adrian had to hide his anger at that command. He wanted to be the one to bring back their rogue operative – wanted so badly to make an example of him. Kyle was a constant reminder to Adrian, a vastly superior soldier in every way as he saw it, of being rescued from the hands of civilian law enforcement. Being captured by mere policemen was embarassing, and every time he had seen Kyle he was reminded of it. He always felt like the human was rubbing in that rescue, even when they weren't looking at each other.

"Of course, father," Gabriel returned. "But what if we are too late? What if he reveals our secrets before we can reach him?"

Rex scowled. "If you can find him with any of those phoenixes, or anyone else he might be enlisting to oppose us, kill them all," he said. "Proceed carefully. Finding Commander Two will be your priority, but if you find one of the phoenixes, your men are to capture them if possible. Interrogate them – find out what they know, and then bring them back here. We are locking down the base before the end of December – make sure your agents return before then, or they will have to fend for themselves."

Gabriel nodded, waiting a moment to see if his father had any more to add. When Rex did not speak, Gabriel turned to leave, making his way over to the elevator to carry out his directive…

~~~~~

Kyle struggled to keep control of the SUV as he followed the mountain road. It was not a paved road, nor appeared on any maps but a road created by P.A.C.E for their vehicles alone. With the Retrievers they'd always been able to travel by air, but some operations necessitated having land vehicles readily available. Kyle had been careful to make sure his the last one that could be readily deployed.

He had to get down the mountain, and get to Unity Falls. There was only one option for him now. Something perhaps to make up for the wrongdoings he had been complicit in for too long…

~~~~~

Two weeks later…

Mid-December, 2015

Obsidian strggled to keep her eyes closed as she lay in bed that night. Even after coming home from a long day at work, and feeling absolutely ragged, she couldn't relax. Sleep did not come easily to her, and even then she usually woke at every sound, be it the usual sounds of her house, the passing of a car or even a particularly large snowflake hitting her window that had her sitting up abruptly, looking out thinking someone was knocking on the window.

Even after she laid down again, and was almost back to sleep, there was a sound she couldn't explain. Up the hall from her bedroom was a closet, one that was mostly only used for storage. She kept it closed most of the time, but at that moment she heard it. She heard the familiar creak of the hinge. Immediately she was upright, watching her bedroom door.

Nothing…

She slid her legs off the side of her bed, reaching into her nightstand to pull out a flashlight. She didn't bother to dress herself or put on her bath robe, wearing only a nightshirt and underwear as she walked over to her bedroom door, easing it open. She shone her light up and down the halls, her other hand poised to throw a telekinetic bolt at the first sign of trouble.

No one. The hall between her and that closet was clear. She stepped out of her room, looking over her shoulder briefly to make sure no one came out behind her - the only other room in the hallway was the bathroom, the last door before the hall ended with stairs going down into the basement, and an open doorway to the left entered her kitchen.

No one could be in the basement, she reassured herself. The only windows down there were tiny - too small for even Tsumé to fit through, and she had them shut and locked this time of year. She turned her attention back to the closet, walking slowly toward it. Five, slow steps, walking on the tips of her toes, her tail held above the floor so that it didn't drag.

She reached for the closet, pausing before yanking it open and shining her light inside.

No one. Just the half-full closet. The door squeaked as she moved it, but she realized then it was not the sound she had heard before

She shone her light in every corner, and then shone it back up the hallway again, back the way she had come. She spent the next several minutes checking the rest of her house, making sure her front door was locked, then the back door in the mudroom where her laundry machines were also kept. She searched the kitchen, the bathroom, even the basement.

There was only her in the house.

Obsidian let out a groan, clicking off her flashlight and rubbing her temples with her fingers, annoyed with herself. She started walking back to bed, hoping maybe she could at least get some measure of sleep before her shift late that morning.

"Thank God I'm not on night shift tomorrow," she muttered.

She checked the clock in her living room. Her shift began in three hours, and at this point she was sure she wasn't ever getting back to sleep. Surrendering to a bad start to her day, she went to put on her bathrobe, and went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

~~~~~

The following morning, at the Temple of Tikal…

"Dammit!" Tsumé cursed, loud enough for Ordagova to hear clearly from the other end of the bar, followed by the thump of her head hitting the counter as she slumped.

"Missssssed out on another one?" The snake hissed as he looked over at her before turning around to the coffee machine behind him to start making a drink.

"Yep," she replied, without lifting her head. "They said the position was already filled." She let out a long groan as she lifted her head and looked up at the ceiling as if hoping to find an answer there. "What the hell does it take to find work in this city?"

Letting herself sulk for a moment, she lifted her head, resting it in her hands propped on her elbows. "Barista, mail carrier, cashier, now produce clerk. All entry level jobs, and turned down for all of them! What am I doing wrong?"

Ordagova finished making the drink, decorating the creamy top with some small black vanilla bean skin curls. Walking over to the girl he placed it before her, even though she never asked for one. "I am afraid I do not know the anssswer to that quessstion." He leant on the back of the bar with his arms crossed. "I didn't know you were interested in being a barista though?"

She gave a shrug as she accepted the drink, too frustrated to question how he knew what kind of coffee she liked - although to anyone who knew Ordagova, it wouldn't take long to figure out.

"I have to start somewhere," she said. "This would be my first job since… Well, since I was pulled out of high school by my mother. I never had to work before I ran away from home. But the money that I put aside isn't going to last forever."

"I wisssh I could help." He admitted, "But I haven't quite ssseen the uptake yet to hire more ssstaff, otherwissse I would hire you here right now."

She lifted her gaze and smiled at him. "I know you would," she said. "Just having someone to vent to is enough for now, and I appreciate it." She looked at the coffee in her hand. "I'm just glad for now I have enough to make it through the winter, if nothing else. It'll be tight, but I think I can manage it."

At the thought of winter, she looked absently over to the corner where Volcan usually played guitar. She found herself missing the strum of his instrument, and the amusement when he tried singing once or twice, his voice so off-key it reminded her of someone talking into a tuba. Even the thought of it made her giggle slightly.

"Suppose we won't see much of the big guy while winter is setting in, huh?" She asked.

"Yeah…" Ordagova looked over at her and let out a long painful sigh, having grown very close to Volcan over the past month. In a way that only some of their friends realized.

"Sorry… Sounds like you're missing him too," she said, grimacing at her insensitivity.

"No… it'sss fine." Ordagova insisted looking back over at the Earth Phoenix. "It'sss jussst the firssst time I've felt so alone in a while."

She frowned, looking closely at the snake's face and seeing the sadness in them. "Well… I'll keep coming by, so long as the budget allows it," she offered. "I can't play guitar, but if you need the world's worst pianist?" She added it as a joke.

The snake started to smile and reached over to ruffle her head appreciatively, "No idea how we'd get it in here."

"Probably for the better," she agreed with a laugh, running her fingers through her crown to smooth out her feathers.

She looked at her phone, checking the time, and then took a sip of her coffee. She hummed in delight as she tasted it. "Wow, that's good. You make good drinks all around, huh?"

"I have plenty of yearsss of exsssperiencssse, ssso I would hope ssso!" Ordagova replied, proudly and with a good-natured chuckle.

She nodded. "Fair enough!" She agreed, cradling the tall glass between her hands, her fingers around the grip. "How long have you been running this place?"

"I think thisss isss my fifth year now." Ordagova thinks to himself, "I wasss in other hossspitality before that, however."

"Got a lot of experience in the trade and decided to start your own business, huh?" She asked.

"Yeah. I ssspent too long working for other people…" the snake admitted, "Almossst got myssself killed becaussse of of the people above me making poor decisssions ssso."

"Above you? Sounds like the military?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.

"That wasss one sssuch occasssion." He confirmed, nodding. "Before coming to Canada I wasss in the USss Navy. Our captain ordered usss on missssssion with almossst no hope of sssuccesss. We were ambushed and now our ssship sssits at the bottom of the Pacific. 'No survivors'."

"Oh god, that's terrible…" she said, covering her beak with her hand. "I'm so sorry…"

Ordagova shrugged, "it'sss all in the passst. I'm here now."

She nodded. "How did you get away when the ship went down? And-" her expression went blank. "Wait… US navy?" She asked, her eyes rolling to the side. "The last operation the US navy had in the Pacific was in 1943…" she looked at him, her eyes filled with astonishment. "...How old are you?" She asked slowly.

"Wow… I thought you weren't supposed to go around asking that." Ordagova feigned insult but couldn't help but crack a smile, "Didn't you say you needed to get going?"

"Wha- hang on! You don't get to hang me out to dry like that!" She protested. "You just told me you were in an military operation that happened over seventy years ago! Even if you were only recruitment age back then you'd be… At least ninety!"

The snake shook his head, unable to hold back his smile, "I am just messssssing with you. I didn't think you would be able to sssee though that lie ssso quickly."

Her face turned to a scowl. "You were bullshitting me?" She asked.

"What would you rather believe?" The snake then looked at her with a grin, cocking his eyebrow as he crossed his arms again.

Her eye twitched at that. Something about what he had said didn't quite add up to her - it made no sense, yet she had a feeling he hadn't been lying. "What aren't you telling me, Ordagova?" She asked, lifting an eye ridge.

"I am almossst old enough to be your father" Ordagova hinted.

"My dad is over two hundred and fifty!" She exclaimed, then put a hand over her beak as she looked around the bar, making sure they were still alone when she made her outburst. "I mean, well… Yeah, he is. But he's a phoenix! Snakes don't live nearly as long as my species does…"

"OK, I might not be quite as old asss him. But I am ssstill no ordinary sssnake." He said lifting his hand to tap his temple, hinting at his telepathic abilities. "Besidesss, I am ssstill very young for my kind! You could even be my sssissster or partner."

"For your kind…" she repeated, studying him carefully. "You… Aren't just a snake, are you?" She voiced the question in a tone that suggested she was growing increasingly curious, wondering what kind of secret the generous host of the Temple of Tikal was keeping…

Ordagova paused, closing his eyes and considering his options before shaking his head having already dug himself too big a hole already to climb out of.

"Inquisitive little one, aren't you?" He finally opened his eyes and looked back at her with a wide smile, enjoying the attention. "You really want to know, don't you?"

"You laid out the puzzle pieces," she said. "I'm just trying to make sense of them."

"I knew there wasss a reason I liked you," the snakeman commented with a wide smile at the curious girl. "I'm a Mayan King Red Bellied Black Naga"

"Well that's a mouthful… Wait, Naga?" She asked, and then stood up to look down at his feet over the counter - although she was too short to see all the way over, so she could only see as far down as his knees. "But I thought Naga didn't have legs?"

"It's jussst a name. But that isss true for my species." He admitted. "Thisss isssn't my normal form"

She considered him for a moment, once more finding no lie in his voice. She wasn't sure if she believed him or not, but it was a discussion they likely didn't want to have when a customer old walk in at any moment. At that thought she looked at the door, peering outside to the snow-covered street beyond, and when nobody appeared she turned back to him and settled back in her chair while taking a long drink of her coffee.

"Perhaps sometime… You could show me?" She asked, despite her doubt.

"Oh I look forward to it~ " he grinned, hissing his wispy tongue between his lips in amusement.

Tsumé finished her coffee and paid her bill for it before getting up to leave.

"No no no. It wasss on the houssse" Ordagova insisted, trying to hand it back.

“As generous as ever," she said, nodding in thanks to him. She picked up a coat hung over the back of her chair, pulling it over herself and zipping it closed. "Well, I'm off," she said. "Have a good day, Orda."

"You too, Tsssumé."

Tsumé stepped out to the sidewalk and tucked her hands into her coat pockets to keep them warm. The sidewalk was frosted over, and Tsume stepped carefully. Her feet were wrapped in sleeves designed for avians - boots without toes allowing her talons to remain free. With each step, she could hear them clicking on the concrete sidewalk, preceded by the thump of the soles beneath her feet.

She reached the closest intersection, waiting for the lights to change before following the crosswalk to the other side of the street. Through her eyes she could see flecks of snow touching down on the hard surface of her beak, melting quickly from her body heat. It was only a light snowfall for the moment but she had seen the weather that day, reporting that there would be flurries in the late afternoon and into the evening. Though she was in no danger of being caught in the blizzard, Tsumé quickened her pace, following her regular route home.

She passed an alley, seeing someone leaning against the wall out of the corner of her eye. She didn't pay them much mind - an African American human, dressed like he lived under a bridge - though there were no bridges in the city. She considered stopping to offer him change, but he wasn't looking at her, nor seemed to be asking anyone else for alms, so she kept going.

With so many people on the sidewalk, Tsumé's seismic sense had to be pushed to the back of her mind, lest she be overwhelmed by how many footsteps she felt. As such, she didn't notice the human stepping out of the alley and beginning to walk up the street in the same direction she was going. She couldn't sense him, and she didn't notice him until she had walked four blocks, when she had to cross the street again and noticed him out of the corner of her eye.

Quickly, Tsumé fixed her gaze forward, pretending not to have noticed him. At first, she rationalized that he was probably going the same way by coincidence. But as she crossed the street and followed the next block, he was still behind her. She noticed him when she stopped at a crossing without lights, looking both ways up the street and spotting him out of the corner of her eye. With that, she went right - not the way she was going to go originally, and looked for an opportunity to find cover.

She quickened her pace, getting a bit of distance from the man, and after rounding another corner before running. This street was empty, nothing around except for a few small shops and a dive hotel on the corner. Behind the hotel was an alley, her intended destination. She ran into the alley, jumped and slid over a dumpster before landing behind it and dropping low.

With fewer people around, Tsumé was able to sense the man more easily. He appeared in the alley, and stopped. She didn't know what he was doing next, but he didn't venture any deeper into the alley. Tsumé sensed him backing up, about to leave the alley - he knew it was a trick.

'Don't think so, creep,' she said, before she lifted her foot and stomped, sending a command through the pavement and causing it to shake.

She jumped out of her hiding place in time to see the man stumbling as the ground under his feet heaved. She ran at him, shouting, "Viens Ici, crétin!" She barked, the heat of the moment causing her to revert to her first language of French as she charged.

The man had no time to regain his balance, arms waving and eyes wide as Tsumé pounced at him like a cat. She drew back her legs and landed a two-legged kick into his chest, sending him flying onto his back. Tsumé landed atop him, falling into a crouch and drawing a concealed knife from inside her jacket - something she had begun carrying ever since her first encounter with P.A.C.E. She made sure the man saw the knife and the threat it promised if she used it.

"Alright, ami," she said, her brown eyes glaring directly at the man's face. "You picked the wrong girl to stalk, because I am in a bad mood!"

"Easy, easy! I'm not here to hurt you!" The man said, hands held at the same height as his face, palms open to show they were empty. She had expected him to sound slurred like a drug addict, or drunk or suffering from a hangover. But he sounded completely normal, and his voice was clear. "I just wanted to talk."

She had a better look at the man's face now. His hair was short, almost caesared, and he had a goatee. His eyes had dark circles under them, indicating he had not slept properly in some time. He was wearing a ragged coat that she could smell - definitely taken out of a dumpster, or off another homeless person. It was a ripe smell, and she had to ignore it.

"Well then, talk," Tsumé stated. "What do you want?"

The man took a moment to compose himself, wisely keeping his hands where she could see them. "I'm here to help you," he said. "You and your friends."

"Help us with what?" She asked, losing patience.

"P.A.C.E," the man said.

Tsumé froze. A mistake that could have been costly if the man had hostile intentions but he stayed where he was, giving her time to process. "You know about them?" She asked, keeping her voice even.

"We've met before, you and I," he said. "I led the team that was after your friend - hey hey hey!" He sputtered as she pressed the knife to his cheek, seeing the girl's face contorted with rage that would not normally be intimidating from her soft features… if she wasn't armed and very clearly pissed off. "Please, let me explain!"

"Explain what? That you tried to hurt Pavan?" She demanded. "That you've been after Volcan and his brother for weeks? Or maybe you want to talk to a certain ice phoenix about his father you kidnapped - considering what he's done to find you, I don't imagine he'll be as merciful as I am now."

"I've left P.A.C.E," the man said slowly. "They are after me now too."

"And how's that my problem?"

"Because I can help you stop them," he said, and added in a calmer tone. "I've been blind to what they really are, I know that now. I've been working for a rogue op, and I've hurt people… I want to try to make that right."

Tsumé's skepticism must have been evident on her face, because the man hastily added. "Then, I will face whatever punishment you and your friends think is necessary," he said, never breaking his gaze from hers.

Tsumé stared down at him for another moment. She didn't lose her skepticism, but if this man had been intending to lure her into some kind of trap, he couldn't have made such an elaborate story so quickly. Let alone make it sound so convincing. He'd expressed his motives for coming to her, and as far as she could tell he was unarmed. If he'd been a decoy, surely any other operatives nearby would have acted by now when they saw he was in danger.

"If this is a trick, you'll be changing your name to-" she paused, blinking. "What is your name?"

"Kyle," he answered.

"Right. If this is a trick you'll be changing it to Katrina, got it?" She warned him.

She felt stupid - that threat usually worked to make her point. But it was far more effective if she actually knew the target's name.

"Crystal clear, ma'am," he said. "How can I prove myself?"

"Eh?" She asked.

"How can I prove I'm not bullshitting you?"

Tsumé actually chuckled. "The way you say that you sound like some gang hoodlum on TV," she remarked.

He shrugged. "I am from Los Angeles," he remarked with a sheepish smile. "Now… Can I get off the ground, please? it's cold, and the shirt I'm wearing doesn't have a back."

"Doesn't have a - oh," she caught on. "An avian shirt?"

"Don't know - I took it out of a donation bin," he admitted. "Nothing else was my size."

"Fair enough," she said, stepping off of Kyle slowly and then allowing him to stand.

He stood up slowly. She took a moment to study him, seeing no sign of any weapons. Not even a knife, and there weren't any inside pockets to the coat where he could hide anything bigger than that. Even if he had a blade, it would be little threat to Tsumé alone.

Having a thought then, she made a motion with her knife. "Stand against the wall and stay there," she said. "I'm going to make a call."

"Okay," he agreed, backing up and leaning against the brick wall of one of the buildings they stood between.

He was being compliant. That was something. As soon as he was on his feet he could have tried something, and Tsumé still didn't feel any vibrations suggesting anyone was approaching. As the phone rang on the other end, she walked over to the alley entrance and looked out at the street, checking the nearby sign to know which street they were on.

"Hello?" The recipient asked.

"Obsidian, it's Tsumé. Am I calling at a good time?"

"Well I'm just on a patrol, but it's pretty quiet today. What's up?"

"I need your help with something. Or rather, someone… From P.A.C.E, " Tsumé explained. "How soon can you get down to Harper Avenue?"

Obsidian arrived only a few minutes after Tsumé's call to her. The dragoness parked her crusher by the alley and stepped out. Her expression was as serious as Tsumé had made the situation sound as the dragoness entered the alley, spotting Tsumé and the human standing beside her. Obsidian's fingers flexed, lingering dangerously close to the holster that housed her service pistol, but she refrained from drawing it.

She stepped closer to the pair, cautiously. Her eyes were on the African American man, but her mind was reaching out for the presence of other consciousness nearby - anything to suggest this might be a trap. She sensed… boredom, and unease. She couldn't tell where from but she knew neither emotion was coming from the two in front of her - probably an employee or two in one of the nearby stores having a typical day at work.

The dragoness and the human locked eyes. Neither one gave an inch, or showed any emotion to the other. Obsidian had expected to find a projected image blocking her telepathy like with their last captive, but to her surprise the man's mind was open to her. He wasn't trying to hide anything. Furthermore, she recognized him from somewhere, but she couldn't remember where…

"Obsidian, this is Kyle," said Tsumé, introducing the man. "He says he used to be part of P.A.C.E and now he isn't. Says he's on the run from them."

"Assuming these memories he's showing me aren't fake, he's telling the truth," Obsidian remarked, quicker than Tsumé expected.

Kyle's flat expression was and indication he had either not known, or had forgotten, that Obsidian was telepathic. She found his memories more scrambled in that moment as he tried to pull his thoughts together. Then, Obsidian's eyes narrowed as she delved deeper into his memories, and she looked at Kyle more intently as she began to recall a case file she had read some time ago.

"Kyle Darwinson," she stated. "Born in Los Angeles, California. Former USMC, officially discharged one year after you failed to report for duty following your last deployment. There was a warrant out for you, you know - desertion is a serious felony."

"I expected as much," Kyle replied.

"Wait, was a warrant?" Tsumé repeated. "So, there isn't one now?"

"Psychological experts had ruled him as suffering from survivor's guilt, and may have overlooked the possibility of him being suicidal before his disappearance," Obsidian explained without taking her eyes off the human. "He was declared dead when police spent a year looking for him and couldn't find a trace."

"They aren't wrong about the survivor's guilt, but I was never experiencing thoughts of suicide, no matter how low I got," Kyle stated. "Still, if I'm declared dead, there's really nowhere for me to go regardless. If I go back home, I'll be thrown in jail. I go back to P.A.C.E, and I will be dead."

"We can discuss that later," said Obsidian, hands on her hips. "You say you left P.A.C.E. Why?"

Kyle let out a breath through his nose. "Found out I was swindled, and I've been fighting on the wrong side," he said. "I started to see what they really were about and realized I'd been helping a rogue op - no better than the same terrorists I fought on the other side of the world."

"They told me that people like you two," he gestured to the two females, "were aberrations that shouldn't exist, and posed a threat to normal people like me or my family back home. They offered me a spot in preserving national security, so they called it, and being pissed off with the Pentagon I was perfectly ready to leave the Marines and join up. New home, new team, new mission. It seemed right."

"And what changed?" Obsidian asked.

"I started piecing together what they didn't tell us," said Kyle. "That these 'lone aberrations' had families. The first clue was after I sprang our crew from the county jail here in Unity Falls. Adrian - their leader - was brought for debriefing, and I was present. He mentioned the Ice Phoenix who kicked his ass at the rink demanding to know where his father was."

"So I got curious, did some digging, and pulled up an old mission report." He looked between Tsumé and Obsidian, "One from almost fourteen years ago."

'That does coincide with what Vinge told us,' Obsidian's mental voice echoed in Tsumé's head, causing the earth phoenix to jump.

She nearly blurted out the words on her tongue, but managed to hold them back. 'First, please don't do that without warning me. Second, yeah… I got that.'

"Go on," Obsidian pressed.

"I dug through more files, started noticing things I wasn't privy to," Kyle almost spat the words, sounding venomous. "We - that is the Retrieval Teams like the one I led - capture the targets, but are never told anything about them, let alone that they might have families. I thought it was operational security but no. It was a veil, to hide the real motive. So I snuck down to the laboratory level, intending to find out what they really do down there…" he had to take a breath, swallowing his disgust. "I was looking for a lab; I found a prison instead."

"A prison?" Tsumé repeated.

The thoughts flowing through Kyle's mind at that moment had Obsidian's eyes widening and her hand lifting to her mouth. She felt like she was going to vomit, seeing that terrible image. She managed to collect herself, swallowing back her disgust before she spoke. Sometimes telepathy was a curse, she thought to herself.

"Did you find anything out?" She asked, not wanting to look deeper.

"No," said Kyle, shaking his head. "They were onto me before I even got there. I guess someone was watching me doing research on my terminal, or they saw me on the cameras - I don't know. Either way, Adrian and two guards were down there waiting for me. I barely escaped. But I know the way back into the base. I can show you how to get there." His expression softened. “So you can save those people."

Tsumé looked at Obsidian, waiting for the dragoness to speak. When she didn't, the Earth Phoenix prompted her, calling out her name to get her attention. Obsidian sucked in a breath to calm herself, and then spoke.

"So far, he seems to be telling the truth – I can't detect any deception," she said, then turned to Kyle again. "But we need to talk with the others first before we decide anything."

"Understood," Kyle stated.

"Where are you staying right now - where can we find you?" Obsidian asked.

"I've been hiding out in an old car at a scrap yard for the past couple of weeks," he replied. "My former colleagues were looking for me so I had to wait a while, give my appearance time to alter," he gestured to his face, specifically the beard, "and procure some new clothes so they can't identify me."

"Are they around now?" Tsumé asked.

"They could be anywhere," Kyle stated. "Our Intel corps handles clandestine operations like this, either to pursue a target under cover or find traitors like me. They'll look just like anyone else until they're ready to attack"

"Can you describe any of them to us?" Obsidian asked.

"No. I wasn't allowed to access their personnel files - the only one I could identify would be the chief himself, but he knows that so he won't be joining the search directly. Even if he was, when they strike they'll be geared up. Either way I won't know them until they're right in front of me."

Tsumé looked at Obsidian. "A gathering at a scrap yard is sure to draw attention," she said. "Especially for anyone who might recognize us."

Obsidian knew where she was going with that. A scrapyard wasn't a safe place, and they needed somewhere they could convene. Plus, Kyle very much needed a shower, and probably some proper food. She rubbed her chin as she thought, considering.

"I could take him to-" Tsume began, but felt a prod in her mind as Obsidian spoke to her telepathically again.

'No,' the dragoness stated. 'I don't want him finding out about Ordagova until we know he's not misleading us. Even my telepathy isn't infallible and he could still be lying. Besides, Ordagova already has a house guest- we can't dump another on him,' She added. 'And before you suggest it, he is not going to your place either. I'm not leaving you alone with him.'

'Where then?' Tsumé asked, failing to hide her body language as she put her hands on her hips. It made it pretty obvious to Kyle that a wordless conversation was being had, but he didn't speak out about it.

Obsidian thought for another moment, weighing their options. She didn't want to divulge too much to Kyle yet, let alone let him know where any of them lived. On the one hand, if they checked him into a motel somewhere, it was just as likely that the men hunting him would find him - as they had Natalie right after Volcan had left her. On the other, if he was being truthful he was an asset they couldn't afford to lose. Either way meant they had to take him somewhere that no one else but them could know about…

“I need to make a call," she said, pulling out her phone and opening her contacts. She had to scroll down to the bottom, until she found the number she was looking for, and tapped the name.

~~~~~

'I fucking hate winter…' Volcan said in his mind as he lay in bed, bored and restless.

He had been cooped up indoors ever since the first heavy snowfall only weeks before, unable to go outside lest the heat from his body melt the snow around him or create droplets above him, making the outdoors constantly uncomfortable for him, and feeling ill from the cold - a sensation that even being indoors couldn't completely shield him from. Even now, he felt devoid of energy, and despite his boredom he had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed.

Then, his phone began to ring. With some effort, he lifted his hand to grab it off the night stand and bring it to his face to check the caller. It was Obsidian. Seeing the name brought a bit of vigour, and he enthusiastically tapped the accept button. Having somebody to talk to was better than just lying around all day.

“Hello?" He asked.

“Volcan, it's 'Sid. How you doing?"

“God, save me from this drawl," the phoenix moaned, rolling his eyes. “It's only two weeks into winter and I am suffering from having nothing to do…"

“I… Really cannot help you there," she said. “If you can't even go outside all I can suggest is maybe take up a new hobby?"

Volcan chuckled. “Like what? Sketching?"

“Well, do you like drawing?"

“I'm terrible at it," he said.

“Practice makes perfect as they say," she offered. “Ah - anyway, I'm getting off-topic. Listen, I need a favour and frankly I don't know who else to ask."

Volcan lifted his head, looking at the phone curiously before holding it to his ear again. “What kind of favour?"

“Tsumé found someone who might be able to help us," she explained. “I don't want to say too much over the phone yet - it's not really a secure line."

Volcan's brow furrowed. He considered why Obsidian might be concerned about someone listening in, but it wasn't hard to figure it out. He almost asked the question aloud, but he knew better than to say it - just in case Obsidian was right and that someone might be listening. “What do you need from me?"

“I need somewhere to hide him," she said. “Your place is probably safest."

“Shouldn't you ask Lighris about - oh," Volcan caught on, and chose his next words carefully. “I got you. Getting there isn't going to be easy in this weather, but if you have a way to reach it, you can take him to my place."

“I'll figure something out," Obsidian replied. “But is it really okay?"

“If this guy can help us, definitely," he assured her.

“Thanks. I'll explain everything as soon as I can. Although, brace yourself - the explanation may shock you," she warned.

Volcan arched a brow at that, even though Obsidian couldn't see it. But he remembered what she said about the phone not being secure and resisted the urge to ask about it. Given the level of technology they had been facing lately he knew she was right to be cautious, and he trusted her.

"Okay, 'Sid. Stay safe out there."

"I will," she promised. "Take care, Volcan."

Obsidian hung up the phone, and then turned to Kyle, who along with Tsumé was waiting. Kyle was being patient, showing no signs of the edginess she was sure he felt, wondering when his former colleagues would appear and attack him.

"Alright Kyle, I have somewhere to take you," she said. "It's not going to be easy to get there but it should be safe."

Kyle nodded. "Alright. When do we go?"

"You may have to wait a while," Obsidian replied, looking at her watch. "I need to get back on patrol. My shift is over in about two hours. Head to a café for the time being, keep your head down and I'll come pick you up once I can get to my personal car - we don't want the GPS marker in my cruiser showing where I'm taking you."

Kyle nodded again. "That seems like a smart plan. I'll text you the name of the café I'm at."

"Do you have money?" Tsumé asked.

"I do," Kyle assured her. "I made sure to put some aside when I fled the base, just to be on the safe side."

“Smart."

"Okay. I'll find you in a few hours then," said Obsidian, taking out a card from her pocket and handing it to Kyle. "I truly hope you're not leading us on a wild goose chase though, Kyle."

"Ma'am, I understand," he said solemnly. "I've done some terrible things, and if you feel I deserve to face justice for it, I will accept that fate." He took the card and pocketed it. "I ask only for this one chance first, to make up for the wrong I've done. What happens after, I leave to you."

With that, Kyle started walking away, leaving the alley and returning to the street while the two women watched him. They waited until he was around the corner before Tsumé spoke up, looking as uncertain as Obsidian felt.

"What do you think?" She asked.

" I can find no sign of deception, no matter how deep I look," she said. "But still… I know at least one of their leaders has been trained to resist psionic infiltration. For all we know, he's only letting me see what I want to see."

"And there's no way for you to be sure?" Tsumé asked. "Like, dig deeper into his mind?"

"Not without him knowing," she said. "The deeper you dig into someone's memories, the more likely they are to feel the probe. Erasing memories is easy - I don't pull them out, I just sort of… Wall off the mind's ability to retrieve them so it's more like blocking memories rather than erasing them. But extracting memories someone is keeping deep, that takes much more concentration and could even cause them harm."

"Ordagova doesn't seem to have any trouble," Tsumé commented.

"He primarily focuses on gauging intent, which is usually a conscious thought at the time," explained Obsidian as she walked back to her car, followed by Tsumé. "Say if someone intended to rob him or endanger one of his customers, he'd sense that straight away since it'll be at the fore of the assailant's mind, but to dig into their memories he'd have to be more focused on that person and it would make it harder for him to read anyone else in the vicinity."

"I… Think I get it," said Tsumé, processing her friend's explanation and trying to find a comparison.

She thought of shoppers in a store, and how a shoplifter might be identified from among the multiple shoppers already in the rows. It could be challenging sometimes but one could spot the thief if they knew what to look for - how they were dressed being one clue, body language such as making pain to hide their face being another. They had to be thinking about their intentions throughout every action, so it made sense to her that such thoughts would be present for a psionicist like Obsidian or Ordagova to pick up on. They'd be thinking about it the whole time - it was natural.

Well, maybe what Ordagova and Obsidian did was more complex, she thought. Still, it came down to awareness, and the ability to interpret what their senses were telling them. Not being a telepathic herself, Tsumé supposed she could never fully grasp the limits, or lack thereof, of such power.

"Anyway," Obsidian spoke up. "You should get home, Tsumé."

"Can we meet up again when you go to meet Kyle?" The Earth Phoenix asked.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," said Obsidian. "We can't be sure of anything and I'd rather not deliberately put you in a dangerous spot."

"Which is why it's my choice," Tsumé replied, hands on her hips. "I may not have done much fighting when we last ran into P.A.C.E but my powers are useful. I proved that at least, didn't I?"

"You did, but-"

"Wherever this base, wherever Kyle leads you," Tsumé interjected, "whether or not it's a trap, you are going to need me. If there's trouble, I can get us out faster than anyone can."

Obsidian let out a sigh. She knew Tsumé was stubborn enough that even if Obsidian refused to let her come she probably would anyway. Well, if nothing else, Tsumé would be safe while she was underground, and her seismic sense had saved them in the woods - they could have walked right into the P.A.C.E team without realizing it if she hadn't been there.

"Okay… But wherever we go, you stay out of sight, alright?" Obsidian stated.

"Yes, 'mom'," Tsumé replied sarcastically.

"I'm too young to be your mother," Obsidian commented.

"Maybe so, but you're acting like one," Tsumé teased.

"Don't make me change my mind, Tsumé."

That evening, after dropping Kyle off at the old tower, Obsidian went home. She was exhausted, between having so little xleepthe previous night and the strange day she'd had, meeting Kyle and finding out he was a defector from P.A.C.E, it had been a revelation. One she was still struggling to wrap her mind around.

When she parked outside of her house and approached the door, she stopped. She noticed footprints in the snow, not on her sidewalk - that snow had melted, but cutting across the front lawn, to the porch where her front door was. She tensed, approaching the house warily, her hand on her service pistol. She may not have needed the gun to protect herself, but she still felt better having it, even if she only might have to use it for intimidation.

Then she soon realized she was being silly. To her right, the tracks continued onward - starting from the left before heading to the right. The mailman, perhaps, had decided to take a shortcut across the yard rather than go to her sidewalk. But the footprints in the snow did not reach her front door - they stopped right at the mailbox at the bottom of her porch. She opened it, lifting out a few envelopes - bills, she noted, and carried them inside with her.

“Everything is fine," she told herself. “You're worrying over nothing…"

She entered her house, stepping into the tiny foyer. Her dining room on the left, living room on the right, she saw almost her entire house from where she stood. There was not a sign anyone else was in there, nor did she sense the presence of another. She closed the door behind her, locking it and leaned back against it to take a few steadying breaths.

“This has to stop, 'Sid," she told herself, running her fingers through her mane of hair. “There's no boogeyman waiting to jump out at you in your own house..."