“And do you recall where you were between the time of 21:46 to 23:33?” The inquisitor asked for, to what Doctor Rester felt, had been nearly the hundredth time now. He scrubbed his face in his hands, frustration building inside of him.

“For what I hope will be the last time,” He said, exhausted and with a hint of barely restrained anger, “I was in my office, talking with my daughter. And after that, I was with Senior Researcher Devon Grandhall, before everything went to hell.”

The inquisitor nodded knowingly, writing in her notepad, only adding to Doctor Rester’s burgeoning annoyance. The inquisitor, a human woman with short, brown hair, sharp features, and a decidedly athletic build complete with a formal suit, looked up to study Doctor Rester. He recognized the look in her eyes, the faint pink glow around her irises that indicated she was utilizing some form of psionic Core ability to determine if what he was saying was truly what he believed to be the truth, before she resumed writing in her little book.

The Doctor sighed. He had been awake for nearly 23 hours now, answering question after question with seemingly no end to them after the incident three days prior. After awakening to being detained in a small room for nearly two days, and then being moved to another, smaller interrogation room grated on his nerves. Even if intellectually he understood the necessity, his patience was wearing thin.

“Look, Ms…” He ventured for a few moments.

Seeing the inquisitor’s impassive expression, he continued. “I’ve been completely isolated from all forms of contact between my team, and my family, for almost 53 hours.” The inquisitor wrote something else in her notes, and the Doctor barely stopped himself from grating his teeth. “I understand the necessity, but surely you could-”

“Doctor,” She interrupted him abruptly, “I’m under strict orders to ensure that does not happen. I’m sorry.”

The Doctor let out a small grunt, pressing his fingers against his eyes in an attempt to rub some moisture back into them. Finally, he lowered his hands to rest them back against the small metal table he was sitting at, deliberately making his actions as non-threatening as possible.

Deciding that reason was out of the question, he instead drew upon everything in his power to extract sympathy.

“My apologies, inquisitor. I’m old, and these bones of mine don’t do well when sitting for so long.” He flashed a smile, and felt a moment of triumph when her eyes softened ever so slightly. “I’ve worked for Androtech for over forty years now. I met my wife while working here, as I’m sure your file,” he gestured to the thick stack of papers to her right, “has informed you. All I want to know is if my team is alright. Surely you could comfort an old man with that knowledge.”

The inquisitor leaned back, pursing her lips and tapping her pen against the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern. But the Doctor knew he had garnered at least some rapport with his cooperation over the past day, and waited patiently. Very carefully making sure to assume what he hoped was as non-threatening a posture as he could manage. He hadn’t been lying; his head was pounding from the hours of interrogation and harsh white light of the room, and his back was sore from sitting in his only lightly cushioned chair.

Finally, she spoke.

“If by your team, Doctor, you mean researchers Devon Grandhall, Rose Clementine, Carl Humes, Hunt Standesh, and the miscellaneous personnel assigned to lab tech and security detail… yes. They’re all alive, and have also been detained for further questioning regarding their activities during the security incident. Though… there were some casualties among the lab techs and security detail.”

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, his posture relaxing. The inquisitor’s gaze softened further, another victory in the Doctor’s eyes.

“Could I see their interrogation reports?” He inquired, his head bowing even as he leaned forward, but he made sure to keep an eye on the inquisitor. She pursed her lips again, before her head tilted to the side, a behavior the Doctor had observed to happen whenever she engaged in psionic communication.

With a terse nod, her eyes once again focused on the Doctor, and she removed the circlet from around her neck, placing it on the table between them both.

“Very well. These are the videos from their own interrogation rooms.” She tapped on the circlet, and a holographic screen flashed into the Doctor’s view. He recognized the person in question, resting her hands primly in her lip, her fiery red hair in a tight bun and her posture straight as an arrow as she stared at the male inquisitor across from her.

“Hello, Mrs. Clementine.” The male inquisitor said, interlocking his fingers on the table in front of him as he settled into a much more relaxed posture, a smile on his face.

“Ms.” She corrected, readjusting in her seat.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ms. Clementine. I’ve been divorced for a fucking month now, not that you idiots would care to update your files anyways.” She snapped, and the Doctor winced as he noticed the inquisitor’s smile freeze on his face. “No apologies for my language.”

“...right. Sorry, Ms. Clementine. Would you mind stating your name and title to the camera?”

Rose’s gaze immediately locked onto the camera located in the room, green eyes intense as they seemed to pierce straight through the screen into whoever was observing them.

“I am Rose Clementine, Junior Research assistant to Doctor Alexander Rester, head of lab one.”

Rose’s gaze immediately switched back to stare down the inquisitor, though he showed no obvious reaction to the sudden shift in focus. He picked up his pen and opened his notebook, and with a click seemed to prepare himself for the long interrogation ahead. “Alright Ms. Clementine. I’ll remind you that you may remain silent to any of the following questions, as anything you say can and will be held against-”

“Please hurry the fuck up with whatever questions you’re going to ask me. No apologies… fuck it, I’m not going to bother. I’m already sick of being here.”

The Doctor winced again as he noticed both the inquisitor in the video and the one across from him raise an eyebrow in unison. It would have been humorous, if the Doctor didn’t know she was actively sabotaging any chance of her establishing rapport with her own inquisitor

“Oookay.” Another wince. The Doctor was practically cringing in on himself by now. An inquisitor breaking polite conduct? That was never good. “Ms. Clementine, how would you describe your time working with Androtech?”

“God damn fantastic. Every day is another learning opportunity.” The unconcealed sarcasm in her voice grated on even the Doctor’s nerves.

Maybe I should have transferred her to lab two after all?

“Great. And has anything transpired recently that might have caused… complications, in your feelings towards Androtech? Anything that might have caused some friction?”

At this Rose finally seemed to observe the inquisitor’s change in disposition, from being formally polite to passively confrontational.

“None whatsoever. I’d say that I’ve taken the rather abrupt transfer from lab three to lab one in stride. Doctor Rester is far more reasonable to work with than Doctor Grant.”

The inquisitor takes notes, even as Doctor Rester cringes further.

Stop talking, Rose. He pleaded silently, though he knew it was pre-recorded. You’re only making it worse.

“I think that’s enough on Ms. Clementine.” The inquisitor across from him said, and he nodded. “Now, we’ll switch to Mr. Humes.”

The Doctor nodded thankfully as she tapped her circlet, and the feed switched to a thick caucasian man with tanned skin and long, dark brown hair. He was sitting across from another male inquisitor, a bald nuan man that was remarkably smaller in stature. They appeared to be mid-conversation, where they picked up in the recording having skipped the introductory protocols.

“-leasant enough bloke, Doctor Rester. Even if he gets a little, uh, cuckoo in the head sometimes.” Carl said, twirling his finger around around his temple.

The inquisitor across from him massaged his own temples, a rare sign of unprofessionalism.

“Uh-huh. Now if we could just get back t-”

“OH! Yeah, sorry, wandered completely off track there. X1! I haven’t even shown you how he looks when like when he’s eating something. Terrifying, but in the most adorable way possible, if you know what I mean. You mind if I borrow your pen and paper? Thanks mate. Now, give me just a second…”

The Doctor felt a flashed mix of both pride and annoyance at Carl’s flippancy. But whatever he was doing, it had put the inquisitor off-kilter, which was a win in his mind.

“There you go. Cute little bugger, isn’t he?”

The inquisitor looked objectively horrified at whatever Carl was showing him, though the camera wasn’t able to capture it. He coughed, grabbing the notebook and pen back from Carl and hurriedly flipping the page over.

“Right. Cute. Now, Mr. Humes, back to my previous question. Why did you open X1’s cage, effectively allowing it to escape?”

At this the Doctor looked up at the inquisitor across from him, a mix of confusion and horror plain across his face. Seemingly not to notice it, the inquisitor tapped her circlet again.

“Mr. Standesh’s video now.”

“Wait, inquisitor, what did he mean by-”

“We’ll get to that question later, Doctor. You wanted to ensure all of your team were alright. So, Mr. Standesh.”

The Doctor bit back his next words, though he could already feel the dread sinking inside of him, settling into his gut.

“Category 6.” The evacuation message had said.

Again, the prerecorded video seemed to cut in on them mid-conversation, a hispanic male with long, unkempt and wild hair, and an asian female inquisitor sitting across from him. Mr. Standesh was rocking back and forth in his chair, hands clutched on his head as the female inquisitor looked at him, faked concern plastered across her face.

“-ck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I knew we should have purged X1. I fucking knew it!”

“Relax, Mr. Standesh. I only asked if you knew what the official class and category X1 was labeled as.”

Mr. Standesh looked at her, his eyes wild while his voice peaked through the audio.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT! THAT FUCKING MONSTER IS THE CAUSE OF ALL OF THIS, ISN’T IT? WAIT, IS BRANSON OKAY? BRASON’S OKAY, RIGHT!? HE WAS RIGHT NEXT TO ME WHEN THE SHIT WENT DOWN! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHI-”

Doctor Rester sighed as the inquisitor muted the audio. He had known of Mr. Standesh’s fear of X1, of course, but he had never thought it had been this bad. It bordered on a phobia, and he watched with mild concern as Mr. Standesh seemed to fall unconscious at the interrogation table, the inquisitor in the video tilting her head in another form of psionic communication.

The inquisitor across from the Doctor cleared her throat, snapping his attention back to her.

“Unfortunately, I’m not permitted to show you Mr. Grandhall’s interrogation video, much as the members of your team won’t be allowed to view yours. Both of you have been selected for… special questioning.”

Class 7, category 6 the voice echoed in his memory once again.

“... Inquisitor.” Doctor Rester eventually said, his voice very quiet. “Has it been determined what categories were included in the class 7’s category 6?”

The inquisitor inspected him, before tilting her head slightly. A nod, and she tapped her circlet once more.

This time, however, instead of showing another interrogation room, it showed a metal hallway, and in this hallway was a metal door. A door that looked all too familiar to Doctor Rester.

“This was taken from security footage inside of lab one.” She said, oh so quietly. But the Doctor already knew that.

The door opened, and two figures emerged from it. A moderately handsome nuan, and an old man. The old man and the nuan… held thermoses in their hands. Immediately five figures armed with weapons, M5C3s, enter the frame and flank them. They begin to fire at something off screen, but freeze, and lower their weapons as their arms go slack. The two figures attempt to shake them out of their torpor, to no avail.

The video distorts as a shadowy figure emerges into the frame, bipedal with 4 tentacles. The two figures that emerged from the door grow still, as the shadowy figure seemingly communicates with them. They nod, and the shadow figure exits the frame, the feed finally returning to normal. They each take a pistol holstered by two of the security detail… and execute them. One by one.

Class 7, Category 6.

By now, the dread inside of the Doctor has transformed into a sinking realization, a horror he couldn’t escape from.

The inquisitor stands up, moving around the table to gently place her hands onto his shoulders.

“Doctor, under the Surreveil act, anyone under the effects of psionic control are not held accountable for their actions. But they are still to be detained, and stopped from all communication with any permanent party or civilian that has not been vetted and given clearance, in the event that they are compromised.”

The Doctor’s mouth trembles as the security feed changes, showing the two figures walking down a hall. Gunning down any who stand in their way.

An old man, and a moderately handsome nuan.

“Doctor… what are the categories assigned to a Rift, Mutated, or Gifted entity?”

The Doctor’s voice trembles, as he recites what he had been taught when first entering the Rift on Earth, to cross over to Stillera.

“Category one.” He says, very quietly. “Shapeshifter. The ability to change their bodily structures or amplify their physical form.”

The inquisitor rubs his shoulder comfortingly, as the video continues to play. It shifts, showing the shadowed entity meeting certain figures in lab one.

A stern looking woman with fiery red hair, who after meeting the entity turned around and strangled a lab tech.

“Category three, kinetic.The ability to influence the matter around them in various ways. Category four, reality bender. The ability to create or destroy matter at will, and has also been observed to open Rifts.”

A thick caucasian man with long, brown hair, who after meeting the entity walks to the observing room for X1’s testing grounds and opens its cage.

Class 7, Category 6.

“Category five, leader. Others that share a species with it will exhibit extreme behaviors of obedience, following its orders to the best of its abilities. Category seven, space and time bender. All attempts to observe these effects have been met with failure.”

A hispanic man with long, wild and unkempt hair, who after meeting the entity turns on his best friend, a fellow security detail member who was the first to make fun of him due to his fear of X1, and cracks his skull against the ground.

Category 6.

“Category two, psionic. The ability to use one’s own mind to affect the world around them and influence another’s, to varying degrees of effect.”

The feed switches back to the old man and the handsome nuan. Around them is a pile of bodies, guns and shocking batons laying on the ground next to them. The two figures push their pistols against each other’s temples… and pull the trigger.

But nothing happens.

They’ve run out of ammo.

Category...

“And category six. When an entity has more than one ability, up to three.”

The two figures collapse. But their work has been done.

The video speeds up, until multiple figures in armor find these unconscious, but alive, lab one members, and carry them out of the building.

A choking sob escapes from the Doctor.

The inquisitor rests her hands on his shoulders.

“Again, under the Surreveil act, anyone under the effects of a psionic are acquitted from any actions they commit. But…”

The old man’s and the handsome nuan’s figures are among them.

His… and Devon’s.

“But I must ask again. Do you recall where you were between the time of 21:46 to 23:33?”