Room 177 (Gear)

[MKR]

The United Nations
Moscow, Russia
December 12th
1:24 PM

It was a simple room, bland and unappealing to human senses. In that sense it was perfectly suited for the politics taking place in these halls. A few doors down and a short walk away there was discussion of an existential threat, allegedly one at least, the Jovian lizards. Not that he cared much about them no the shellfish reeled in by Britannia was much more appealing a topic for a private discussion. As such Iso Varedo stepped behind the lone table in this design disaster of a room, placing a water pitcher down with two glasses ready.

First he poured some of the liquid in one, leaving the other was it was. Despite the global natural disaster some odd hundreds of years ago a Russian winter was still cold even if the notion of Russia as a nation had ceased in those days and nowadays it was just décor to place rooms like these that assaulted the senses. And so the song and dance continued both forwards and back, the unholy rhythm of daily lives in politics continued undisturbed even as lizards from space saw to threaten them as per the League's 'warning'. One leg crossed over another as he waited and waited, the lone clock on the wall making the only sound that indicated the passing of time, tick, tock.

Today had been a day of time and space, hadn't it. Both the Reclaimers and Lizards could be considered enamored with both concepts from this view, the former sought to race up where the latter threatened to descend down. Dr. Clint's declaration to heal the earth could be seen as rewinding time, to a time before they had burnt everything to ash. But it was not this planet that held their eye, why else would they so vehemently seek to abandon it like rats on a sinking ship. And the Lizards, they were a threat due to the urgency they theoretically posed. Why else would the League wait until the last possible moment to warn those on earth if not to hamper their ability to dispose of the threat efficiently.

Be they king, emperor or corporation it mattered not, at the end of the day they were fundamentally the same in how they treated those not in their nation or group. The man he had beckoned here bore no such title but he was the man that 'led' the Reclaimers prior to their introduction to royalty. Their... Chieftain as it were.
This however was not the time for snide remarks or crude observations, there was a very serious question to ask.

 

[Nemesis]

"Mister Varedo?"

The door creaked open, giving way to the ever-so-slightly disheveled form of Dr. Gustav Clint, fresh from the highlights reel of his life until that point. The faint crumpling on his Hawaiian shirt, the slight tarnish on the metal of his watch, the beginnings of a 5'o clock shadow all made him stand out from the career politicians like a sore thumb. Perhaps that was why the Reclaimers, social rejects, anarchists and outcasts all had elected him: the most harmless "leader" one could imagine.

He scanned the plain room and the man within it, uncertainty plain on his face - yet another sign of his lack of experience. He was a scientist, not one accustomed to the cutthroat world of politics. Curiously, he didn't seem bothered by the cold in the slightest - perhaps he was still running on the adrenaline of his back and forth on the floor with his most hated of enemies.

The good Doctor extended a hand to Iso, cradling his notes protectively in the other, asking anxiously as he did so:

"I'm told you had a question that needed to be addressed in private?"

 

[MKR]

"Ah, doctor. Welcome. Though please, call me Iso." The young man answered, rising from his seat to accept the handshake and give one back in mimicry, the smile on his features seemed well rehearsed, but he had neither the age or presence one assumed of a politician as neither nor status adorned him, both men in turn misfits at least by appearance "Please, take a seat." he directed, aiming his hand towards the chair opposite of him in a simple gesture.

The room was simple, a clock adorned the wall ticking and counting the seconds. A lone potted plat sat in a corner to give the false idea of decoration. Yet beyond that there was awful little, four chairs, a table to sit at and the water pitcher placed there by the man that had invited him here barely concealing a notebook and pen. Still the room smelt oddly musky like a tomb sealed beneath the earth for aeons unsealed for an archeologist. The boy seemed to mind little however, not even acknowledging the dusty odour.

"And that I do, several in fact if you don't mind, I've been curious about Orphan for a while now you see." He took a very casual tone immediately, "I was hoping you could share a piece of your mind with me on the matter." His eyes moved for a moment to the water in front of him before returning to the guest.
"For starters on the matter of where you would be going, or well it would be going perhaps? As you mentioned during your presentation it intends to escape Earth, no? Would you know if there is a destination in mind?"

The click of a pen came from the other side of the table as a pair of blue eyes awaited an answer.

 

[Nemesis]

Dr. Clint rubbed his chin thoughtfully. A curious, yet reasonable inquiry. He wondered what it was about it that interested this young man? Back in his day he'd have been more interested in chasing the local skirts rather than questioning a muddled researcher.

"Being perfectly honest... We don't know. Not yet, at least." He confessed.

"We believe Orphan is seeking something called the B Plate, though the nature of this object is at this point, only conjecture. Perhaps there may, at some point, have been two of these creatures, explaining why there are two different kinds of Antibodies... but, once more, we have little in the way of solid evidence to back this claim up.

Orphan will depart in search of this B-plate, whatever it may be. Consequently we, the Reclaimers, will accompany it wherever it so chooses."

The vessel, of course, was entirely self-sufficient. They wouldn't need to worry about food or water - they would be a part of the ship, and it they. A symbiotic existence unlike anything else on Earth. He was glad, at least, that Iso seemed to appreciate its unique nature - enough to venture a joke, with an awkward laugh:

"After all, it couldn't be worse than here, right?"

 

[MKR]

A slight chuckle from the young man.
"Perhaps not, if these dreary halls are much to go by." Came the response from him, "Well regardless, people do say the journey matters more than the destination. I suppose." He contemplated for a moment "And upon arrival there you would find out at latest. Though your remark about this so called B Plate does bring forward another of my questions."

He rested his chin on his hand for a moment as the other scribbled something in the notepad almost absentmindedly. The top of his head bobbing up and down with the words that followed. "The concept of communing with Orphan in a manner similar to that attempted on the Beta arose, but even without it you seem to have at least ideas or theories on what it wants and desires, like this B Plate that you mentioned. Has Orphan communicated with your group through some other means in the meanwhile, or would your... Gran Chers was it? Have?"
Despite the questioning turn the voice that said them seemed to not be inclined to doubt their source, moreso curiously asking instead of scrutinizing. He leaned forwards, a soft creak passing by as he did so. Hand now holding the chin as another question arose.
"Oh and when you say your genetic material will travel with it, do you yourselves intend to stay here then?"

 

[Nemesis]

"...Orphan has indeed communicated with us, in a sense." Hazarded Clint, after a moment's thought.

How could he explain it? Some of the things the likes of Dahlia had told him sounded like madness, and then there was the case of that "Baron", emerging from his past to haunt him like a specter of evil. Everyone had their secrets, their reasons for being at Orphan... and he knew deep down he was no exception.

"Those who witness the birth of an Antibody become biologically bonded to it, and to Orphan, a process we call the "Antibody Reaction". The strength of this reaction is very dependent on the individual, but it brings them closer to Orphan itself, increasing the strength of that symbiotic relationship, sharpening their instincts. They become its protectors, guardians, and caretakers."

In a sense, he thought, Orphan "replaces" something that went missing in their lives. The entity was exceptional at probing for emotional soft spots and ingratiating itself. The more terrible the loss, the more fervent devotion that flowered. It was impossible to say whether Orphan itself was manipulating them, or if it was merely following its instincts, trying to sooth the pain and loneliness of others.

"However, there are always risks associated with the pursuit of knowledge, and this is no different. It's possible an individual could lose their sense of who they are altogether, and become part of Orphan in mind, body, and soul... but, this is just a hypothesis for now."

Dahlia, he thought again as he propped his head up in a closed fist. She, and some of the other zealots were better off never knowing about that possibility. Stranger things happened in nature, and to assume human beings were above it wasn't something he was yet willing to risk.

"Those among our ranks who die have their remains interred in Orphan. It takes their genetic material within itself, and stores it. Why and how is an intense focus of my research, but one possibility is that it uses this as the basis for seeding new life that can support it on distant planets. As you can imagine, this has led to all manner of fervent speculation and rumor among the more devoted of our association, as well as those outside it."

Yes, Clint added glumly. It was that particular incident that had led him to realize he needed to hold his tongue at least some of the time. How his research, his words could be twisted by the ignorant and the malicious into fearmongering and hysteria. When they left the planet behind... He'd be glad to see the back of it.

"Of course, we do not plan to stay here on Earth when it leaves. Many of my associates have already given up their worldly possessions, believing that their place is very far from here, with Orphan. Of course, you're welcome to visit us to see it for yourself."

 

[MKR]

The notebook would rapidly be filled by one handed writing as Clint continued, only pausing a moment as Clint explained that he didn't know if they were being manipulated.
"Thank you for the offer, I'll think about it." the man responded "But I at least think I'm beginning to get a clearer picture of Orphan though it does raise more questions, first however I should finish the original ones."

There was a calm as his conversation partner quieted for a moment, laying the pen down for a silent instance.
"Namely what if you get to where Orphan brings you, assuming of course that it finds the aforementioned B Plate, it culminates enough Bio energy to depart and nowhere during its journey it is interrupted. There are fleets like the Vermilion, Zentran remnants if not entire armadas. Let alone anyone else like that, space may be the infinite void between stars but calling it lonely nowadays would be exaggerated." the young man spoke with concern about the matter, his eyes aimed at Clint. "Or am I misinterpreting the why it is you wish to leave?"

The pen laid silently, not in hand as the notepad it was writing on was illegible, not due to the quality but rather the script. Some foreign language not native to earth but rather of the otherworlders contained within the book.

 

[Nemesis]

"While it's true there are expeditionary fleets colonizing other worlds, what is there to prevent what took place on Earth and Mars from unfolding there? Mankind has, after all, already laid waste to two of its habitats. So long as it believes it has infinite resources, man will continue to repeat the same mistakes."

Clint glanced at the man's notes. He didn't recognize the language... strange. It could just be a particular type of handwriting - but his script was neat and precise. Some sort of code, perhaps?

"Orphan is able to unite people from different creeds, nations, and ideologies in a way that no leader in history ever has. Because there is a biological element at play, we have the opportunity to truly reinvent ourselves as a more enlightened race."

At the mention of the why they wanted to leave, the Doctor stiffened slightly. He picked his next words with great care, as though carefully wading a wide arc over going into any further lurid details.

"...the Reclaimers are made up of those who have good reasons to leave, personal or otherwise. Whatever those reasons may be, we believe they may find solace, completion, and healing through Orphan. You could almost call it a support group... albeit, one that is armed and capable of defending itself handily. For that reason, we're not afraid of whatever it is that awaits us on our journey."

The Antibodies... the more of them there were, the harder they fought. It was very much unlike mankind, he thought, divided by its own selfish desires, with each individual overtly interested in its own survival before all others. He wondered if the man before him could appreciate the potential of a biological restructuring, a true rebirth free from the trauma that had shaped man.

"There is strength in unity of purpose, I'm sure you'll agree. Our venture has been very well thought out, and is far from the delusion some of our critics have painted it as."

 

[MKR]

As he continued the man opposite of him listened, whether there was any mental noting of the defensive stance taken was unknown as Clint was no mind reader, instead he would be left to say his piece uninterrupted before another spoke up.

"What's it to prevent from happening to you." the voice was the same but the direction differed, behind him the man in front of him stood in the door opening, but behind him were not the halls of the UN but instead a sight of ruination, an underground city torn to shreds with lone machines long dead slumped down in the streets, having slain one another in combat.

Dominating the environment was a lone tower spiralling up, not into the sky but instead the ceiling. The man that sat opposite to Clint looked on in confusion before suddenly slumping forward, hitting the table with a dull thud. Laying motionless. One of the cities in the grasp of the controllers, yet this one suffered a different fate than liberation.

Iso's eyes gazed down upon the man, it felt like he was gazing into his very being. "The Garden of Eden's snake offered much the same you aspire to, but the result was only that humanity was banished from paradise." the reek of dust intensified as air flowed in from behind the man.

"But here you are, knowing neither destination nor if the being guiding you does so to devour you. I hope you can understand my doubt about what you decree as well thought out." he stepped inside, setting his identical double straight in its chair and pushing it to the side.

"A pleasure meeting you properly Doctor, please call me Iso. You'll have to forgive me for the unusual introduction, but all the same. Could you tell me what the difference is between Orphan and DOVE?" The young man seated himself on the corner of the table, Dr. Clint however would find it exceedingly difficult to rise from his seat if not impossible.

 

[Nemesis]

Clint could only watch in horror as the man's body hit the table like a doll with its strings cut. He reached forward out of immediate concern, years of medical training taking over, trying to wake him, but...

"Hey!"

The sound of death on the wind, The heat whipping against his skin. The scent of gunpowder and burning bodies. As the vision overtook him, Dr. Clint, no warrior, recoiled in horror, eyes so wide they could have been saucers as sweat began to pour down his face. Every part of him wanted to get up, to leave, to run - but his legs wouldn't respond. His body was locked up, whether in fear or something more he couldn't tell. In mere moments, the world had changed, as if the gates of Hell itself were yawning wide beyond the doorway.

There were two of him. Two of this man. Then, who... or what, perhaps, had he been talking to? Was he having some sort of mental breakdown? All these questions and more ran frantically through Clint's mind.

"W-what's happening? Who are you?!" He asked, shrill terror overtaking his voice. All he could do was raise his hands before his face, in a pitiful, primal attempt at defending himself from the other. Iso's question was lost in a flood of raw terror, as Clint screamed over the din.

"H-Help! HEEELP!"

 

[MKR]

There was a sigh, tapping fingers on the table as screams filled Iso's ears from his right. Always the same, repetitive banality. He picked up the note book and began reading as he gave Clint his moment of fear.

"You could do with some calmer nerves." he commented from behind the notebook. "You agreed to answer questions so you should." the words reverberated as the walls around them began to fade, leaving both of them in another room. The limp body to the side began being joined with a wall of chairs, massive puppets wooden in make spectating the sight in their middle, Clint getting a full view of them should he uncover his eyes.

The words however yet lingered, a compulsion taking place. "Now then, doctor do I need to repeat my question?" Iso looked at the man and to the display past him, placing the notebook to his side. "Also, Iso Varedo. As mentioned."

 

[Nemesis]

The scene around them shifted again. Clint dared to unscrew his eyes - and wished dearly that he hadn't. Surrounded now by dolls, in what appeared to be some kind of workshop - filled him with a different kind of primal terror altogether.

"Where a-are we? This isn't the UN!" He stuttered, eyes snapping back and forth as if they were seeking an exit from the skull that contained them. Had the room been filled with some kind of gas? It had to be some kind of illusion - but the heat he'd felt had been so real. Was it some kind of magic? He'd never studied it too closely, and now cursed himself for his ignorance. He plunged into the depths of his mind, seeking a further explanation. Who had sent him?

"I-I don't know! I don't know anything about the Controller!"

Clint cowered before Iso, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He just wanted to go home. Coming here had been a mistake, one he prayed he would live long enough to regret.

"I'm just a scientist! Please... please, let me go!"

 

[MKR]

"Well that's disappointing." forgetting the past while claiming to attain enlightenment, how ironic yet how unfortunately accurate to human nature. He sighed as he let his legs touch the ground again, nudging the chair to look to the decimation previously behind him the 'eyes' of the blank features behind him boring into his skull. "We are deep below the Siberian surface, Layered Forty Seven they called this place when people still lived here. Above us for miles on miles, or kilometers if you prefer, there is nothing but arid wasteland that cannot support humanity. Somewhere out there is Garlemald and the UN but neither are close. If you wish I could let you loose on the surface to see if you can reach civilization before you starve or freeze to death. Alternatively after some questions Doctor Clint will return healthily and completely unaware of what he witnessed here."

Iso stepped past, leaning on a balcony. They were somewhere in a building, a taller one based on the view but it was dusty and decrepit.
"Alternatively you could call this place Eden, curated by a God determining the path of humanity from first breath until last in this Ark of humanity carrying it through crisis. Though that was not to last." An arm gestured to the Armored Cores slumbering after their death, in this catacomb tailor made for them. "In other words, your goal for boarding Orphan miniaturized and simulated over and over beneath the surface of the Earth."

Iso turned his back to the Doctor, looking out over the dead city as a gentle breeze waves through, his cloak swaying slightly.
"Now, about Orphan once more. And I only want your honest opinions no filtered drivel to present to the world at large, based on your professional opinion, will Orphan perform a mass genocide during its departure? And if not, why not?"

 

[Nemesis]

Clint listened with a mixture of horror and incredulousness. He didn't want to believe it. Layered? He'd been sent to one of those ghastly bunkers? The thought of having to trudge alone, isolated, from the middle of nowhere caused his stomach to churn - but as Iso promised his safety, desperation made him leap at the chance.

"Eden?!" He said, face contorting terribly as he struggled to speak.

"You're insane! The Controllers were deposed because they didn't understand humanity! They were never meant to be anything more than temporary caretakers, but went beyond their function because people like you thought of them as more than what they were: nothing but... but... circuitry! Cold, unfeeling metal, playing at God!"

Clint's hands shook, but he still managed to gesticulate, chair-bound as he was, hoarse as his throat felt, as if sandpaper had been rubbed across his tongue. This man was mad - he'd heard stories of the Controller's devotees. Those that believed they already lived in a man made paradise... and that their mechanical saviors held the keys to much-needed shackles for humanity.

Hadn't he, after all, once counted himself among them?

"Orphan is different!" He insisted, vehemently - "It's alive! It thinks! It breathes! It feels! We are not its subjects, but a part of its very being!"

The Doctor jabbed an accusing finger at Iso. Perhaps it was the Orphan antibodies in his own system that were driving him forward, spurring his words like red hot thorns in his brain.

"No machine can replace what it brings - a sense of true belonging, of unity, deeper than words, deeper than ideals, deeper than even greed! It is watching us! Learning! Growing! Judging! And if it so judges us as unworthy, as beasts in flesh - then I welcome whatever retribution it may bring to the likes of you!"

 

[MKR]

The young man on the balcony remained silent as an accusatory finger pointed at him, his head slowly turning to the animated accusation aimed his way. Something other than fear, all it took was insulting that beloved parasite. Slowly he turned around, and as Clint finished a simple answer came.
"How can you be sure?"

Iso stepped back inside where the room had been, looming over the good doctor as a mile wide smile formed on his features.
"You cannot for certain know its intent, only theorize. You said so yourself. You know not its destination or if there are more of it." The black haired man sank through his knees to become level with the doctor. "But please, I have no love for those things. They remind me too much of home. But, yet that's a lot of knowledge for a man that claimed to not know anything about Controllers, and yet knew what DOVE was." He chuckled, leaving the man to stew on the matter. Rising again, shrugging at the notion "You said yourself the Controllers had their devoted. Its simply a different tribe in a different coat. You are simply the next one to rise. A God of guts instead of steel. Yet, if it judges mankind unworthy?"

He turned towards the Doctor with a flourish.
"Why would you be exempt from its wrath? Or, do you intend to become its guts. Like gears in an organic machine." The man was clearly enjoying riling up the doctor as he spoke, "You are not its subjects but still are subject to its whims and desires?" He dropped his arms to the side, gazing out at the destruction. "It is different in one way, I will admit. It succeeded in interfacing with its targets directly it does go deeper than words but that's because it became an ideal. Nothing more than a meme that wormed its way into all your skulls, and nestled on fertile ground by the looks of you. It is the unity of a swarm of ants. Driven by directions from their queen, aimed to defend even those that cannot fight."

The flat of the hand gestured at the doctor.
"I suspected as much but it is still gratifying to see in person. A fragment of a Hivemind, how disgusting." Yet his tone remained boisterous and excited with that declaration. "Or would you call yourself different once more?"

 

[Nemesis]

"Do you think I haven't heard these criticisms before?"

Iso's words were clearly digging at the Doctor, like bamboo shoots shoved under his nails - yet he didn't back down, for once. Perhaps he was now more angry than afraid, subject to yet another barrage of ignorance from histrionics and conspiracy theorists. Nothing he could say would convince this man - but he wouldn't accept being talked down to yet again, made a laughingstock once more.

"It is not a sin to believe in something better, something brighter, without full certainty. If you cannot tell the difference between flesh and circuitry, man and machine, then you should ask the millions those buried alive in the Layereds that failed. Was their mechanical messiah looking out for them when it decided the experiment was a failure?"

His features were grim, filled with the thought of some of the things he'd seen, uncovered in what amounted to those horrible, massive crypts. The stony silence, full of bodies that had been disposed of in the most callous of fashions, and left to rot for a hundred years. "Acceptable losses". Little more than numbers on a spreadsheet to be expended in the pursuit of the greater good. Was he different? Was he leading the Reclaimers to a similar fate?

"Science is the pursuit of the truth. For as long as I live, I will pursue that truth." Dr. Clint said, after a long silence.

"Orphan is different. I know it in my heart to be true. I have felt that, ever since I first came into contact with it. Even though I could only ever muster the lowest of Antibody reactions, even if no Gran Cher ever answered my call... That is what I believe. No matter how irrational you may find it..."

To bet the future of humanity on a strange object from the stars... As mad as it sounded, he thought, it was still better than the alternative.

"...to be unreasonable is what it means to be human."

 

[MKR]

"I'll give you that much Doctor, humanity as a whole is unreasonable and uncompromising." He snapped his finger and behind him Clint could hear the movement of wood. Large numbers of wooden legs standing in unison, "A prime example being yourself, given your affiliation with an alien being of which there is no telling if it is benevolent or not. Please, don't consider that an insult."

There was a sigh as the boisterous poking and prodding, aiming to pull nails for reaction as all that concluded and the shoulders of the man sunk.
"Irrationality however leads to two things, humanity will do things no one would have imagined. Or the same, tired thing. The thing doomed to fail and to crumble." The frustration in the man's tone was palpable, "Its a shame you do not have any answers, and while the idea of discussing philosophy is nice I can figure all your answers to the questions that actually matter there already."

Footsteps approached, boots hitting the ground as the sound of wood was nowhere to be heard "Thank you for earnestly sharing your thoughts Doctor Clint, I believe it is time I hold my end of the deal here." The steps stopped right behind the doctor, looming over him was an assembly of figures in pilot suits. Had he glanced behind he could see the wooden dolls morph into these... beings.

Then there was the grating sound of a chair being dragged, in front of him the unconscious duplicate was placed with the being in the pilot suit standing besides it. Its eyes jolted open but they were no longer young or blue, instead it was as if there was a mirror in front of that part of the thing in the chair opposite to him.
"Doctor Clint, meet Doctor Clint to be." Iso said in a mundane tone as he moved towards the chair. "Your legacy will continue, but you yourself have a different part to play." He rested his arm on the back as the muscles of his duplicate in the chair pulsed and rippled unnaturally.
"Make sure he gets to see every moment of this."

Two pairs of hands gripped his arms, pushing them down on the chair as another pair held his face forwards, forcing his eye lids open. Agonized screams filled the air as energies circulated through the chairbound being, Clint could feel it there but distant. A presence at the outset of his mind peering in, first foreign and then familiar as it restructured its own being. At the same time youth drained and turned older, clothes bleached as the effect in front of him could have but one explanation. Magic.

 

[Nemesis]

"So you'll... let me go?"

Cautious relief went through the Doctor's body as Iso spoke... relief that instantly evaporated the moment he felt clamped upon his shoulders the firm, unmoving hands of Iso's assistants. He was slammed down into the chair, his features a mix of surprise and horror as the body was duped unceremoniously down before him. Dr. Clint to be? His brow furrowed momentarily in confusion before the meaning of the man's words took slow, horrifying hold, as it began to change, began to scream...

Never before in his life had he wanted, needed to look away so badly, but the hands now holding his head as steady as a pin vice, fingers jabbing into his eyelids, forcing them open obediently, refused to allow him even that small amount of peace.

And its screaming would be doubled twofold, as he thrashed desperately against the restraints, howling in a pure, primal terror that few had ever uttered in their lifetimes, his nails leaving bloodied scratch marks against the chair, the arms of his tormentors, as immovable as iron bars.

 

[MKR]

The unsightly sight continued for what seemed like an eternity as bit by bit inch by inch, feature by feature the youthful figure transformed into something else, someone else. Clint was left to take in every moment as the pressure on his mind continued and then receded in an instant. In its stead there was a hollowness that could not be explained, that had always been there and should be there but now felt unnatural.

As lungs were made sore, the thrashing done by both man was becoming eerily similar, were it not for the obvious issues one could imagine a mirror in front of Clint. At the end of it, the feeling of stereo was recreated. Iso looked down at the creation, still undoubtedly in pain. A final pulse of unknown arcane energy coursed through the duplicate as it went limp again. It... smoldered for a moment as Clint was left to take in the sight, a twin brother now born against all wants and desires.

"I'll be letting him go." Iso pointed out, "He's got very important things to do in the future like governing Orphan with the Princess he so adores but cannot explain why. Speaking of which, Doctor Clint." The figure beneath Iso awoke in an instant, sitting straight on his chair as he looked out ahead of himself.
"I promised that you would not remember this, I assume you still want that?" The duplicate looked at Clint in terror, as if he were in his position. Exactly as if they were in the same position, except one was not being forced down. Well known desperation about this situation visible in the eyes.
"So you'll... let me go?"

"We'll sort out the finer details later, for now." Iso placed his hand on the back of the duplicate's neck, a small jolt came from it disabling it. "Please rest a while, its been a long day." The man, his captor pushed the unconscious body out of the chair, slumping it on the floor as two of the former marionettes dragged it away. Instead he seated himself. One leg placed over the other.

"Former Doctor Clint." He started "You're going to do great things for me, I trust you have no complaints since I held my end of the agreement? Because the alternative to set you upon the wilderness has passed, no no I have been looking for a man with your expertise to become available for a while now. Now that the pressure of time has been removed from us, would you be willing to discuss what you know of the antibody reaction?" His tone returned to casual on the drop of a coin, as if the whole display hadn't just happened. As if the gimps were not still holding his position like that.

Still an earnest answer was expected as Iso smiled at the man.

 

[Nemesis]

"You can't do this!"

A shrill shriek pierced the silence like a needle. Clint, his head finally released, tore his gaze away from the limp double, and put his hands over his face. It was like something out of his worst nightmares. That was it, he thought. This had to be a dream. He was just anxious about his speech, still warm in bed. That was all. It had to be that. It had to be. And yet, it couldn't be. Reality marched on before him, unrelenting in its horror, dragging his consciousness kicking and screaming behind it.

All he could do was shake his head slowly, still rooted to the spot, curled up like a small child... and then, Iso said something odd. Something that punched open the fog clouding his mind, tapping something embedded deep in the underside of his frantic consciousness that made it stop cold. It was a question. One that he himself had raised, but whenever contemplated, hit ad been plunged into the darker recesses of his mind, as though he feared whatever answer he might arrive at.

"...governing Orphan with the Princess he so adores but cannot explain why."

Clint's heaving and sobbing slowed. He gripped his head in both hands, face soaked in sweat, bowed almost to his knees. His breathing slowed, as though he were forcing it back under control. Eventually, gulping air, he looked back up at Iso, through red-rimmed eyes, and hoarsely rasped a single question:

"...What do you mean?"​