Alcina sat down in the chair. This round plastic table, one of many, was rather large, enough for a whole dozen people, but only four were sitting at it. Aside from herself, there was Ira, sitting right next to her on the left, and Cyrus, a seat over on her right. Across the table, directly opposite of Ira, was a stout man with a notably low quantity of hair and thick black glasses sitting on his oily face.

The rest of the room was sparsely filled with others in lab coats, and workers in full black. The back wall was a sort of line, with various food items sitting on display behind glass panels.

Ira was busy shoveling pieces of chicken into her mouth with her hands while the fat old man poked at a salad that was more ranch than leaf. Cyrus had nothing in front of him, and was just staring at Alcina, resting his head on his interlocking fingers. She stared blankly at the simple meal in front of her, two strips of chicken with a side of mashed potatoes and some corn.

"It's probably not poisoned," Ira said between bouts of gnawing on the drumstick that had already been picked clean.

A black tendril slowly snaked it's way up the table, wrapping around one of the strips.

"So, Alcina," Cyrus started.

The tentacle released the chicken before retreating under the table. She turned to him, her eyes widening ever so slightly with attention.

"How old are you?"

"Our main body is sixteen years old." Her words were soft and monotone.

"How many of you are there?"

"Seven."

"Only seven? I expected more." Cyrus rested his arm on the table, propping his head against it. "Why not?"

"We do not understand."

"Why not more? You get stronger the more people you use your power on. Why only seven?"

Alcina kept staring down at the tray. "We promised not to."

"Promised who?"

Ira waved a different piece of chicken at Cyrus. "Lay off her already. She hasn't even gotten to touch her food yet."

Alcina couldn't help but look at her as she waved a piece of chicken around.

"Fine. I'll be waiting in the control room. Bring her to me when she's done, Ira."

Ira could only reply with muffled noises vaguely resembling 'Yes sir.'

After Cyrus had got up and left, the black tentacle slowly reached back up to the tray, re-wrapping itself around the chicken strip and bringing it over to Alcina's mouth so she could nibble on it. The old man followed after Cyrus, leaving his barely eaten salad sitting on the table.

"Hey! Don't leave your food here!" Ira yelled after him, watching him turn the corner out of the room. "Ah, whatever. He doesn't care anyways."

"Ira." Alcina looked over at her. "Why did Cyrus kill us?"

"What? What do you mean."

"He shot us, in the head. He now asks for our cooperation. This is confusing. Wouldn't it have been proper to have talked to us first?"

Ira pushed her tray away, with only bones left on it. She waved over towards one of the workers, a man with brown hair and quite a lot of freckles.

"Yes, Lady Ira?"

"Lady now is it? You sure know how to sweet talk this woman." She loudly laughed as she bumped her elbow against him. "This is Alcina. She's our newest recruit for Cyrus' other business."

Alcina's look almost had a tinge of a glare as she sat there silently.

"It's nice to meet you Alcina. Welcome to Roger's Pharmaceuticals. The foremost producer of medicines for the whole of Nova Somnia." The man gave a sly smile with nearly closed eyes.

"Anyways, I just wanted to let you know the good-for-nothing didn't even touch his food again. You should stop making him special orders if he doesn't touch them. He even asked for bacon on it of all things and didn't touch it."

"Arnold always does. It's fine though Ira. It's our job to serve food. I'm glad you eat it all, every time. The cooks all like you too."

The man picked up Ira's tray of bones and Arnold's unfinished salad and walked off.

"Thank you!" Ira shouted, turning a few heads.

"Why do you not answer us?" asked Alcina.

"Because I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because. I don't understand anything about you. You clearly don't work like the rest of us. You talk about a dead man as though he's you. I don't know how that really works. You know I fought with that man too, and I feel responsible for his death as well. If you asked me why I tried to kill him, it's because I was following orders. Because I trust Cyrus."

"You trust him?"

"Yeah. Now he'll go on and on about his lofty goals and ambitions and whatnot when you go talk to him, but that's not really what he's like. He's only got one goal."

"What is it?"

"I should leave that for him to explain. Now finish your food, you still have some growing to do." Ira let out a hearty laugh as she slapped Alcina on the back, causing her to rock forward a bit.

***

Behind Cyrus was a wall of screens, displaying mostly shots of researchers over petri dishes and beakers. A few of them were different, like the multiple shots of the lobby for the main building on the surface, and several watching the tunnels themselves.

"Cyrus, why have you brought us here."

He turned around, with his face lit up by the hanging fluorescent lights over his desk. "I want to ask for your help. It's something only you can do."

One of the screens caught Alcina's attention as she glanced through them. It was a twelve person table. "Why should we help you?"

"I have something to offer you, something you can't find anywhere else, a chance at normalcy. I can remove your powers."

"Is that true?"

"Of course. That is one of our goals here after all. To get rid of this curse upon society that we know as psychic powers. You always wanted to be free, right?"

Alcina stared at him, not even moving. "What do you require from us."

"Primarily? Obedience. I need you to follow my orders, even if they make no sense. I guarantee they will lead us to success. It is fate. Follow me, let me free you from your shackles."

"We have questions."

"Go ahead. I'm not going to hold back anything from you."

"Why did you kill us?"

"Kill you? I've done no such thing. You are standing right in front of me, after all. I freed you. There's no way that man would have let you get rid of your power. Right?"

Alcina didn't respond. Her eyes didn't hold the same uncertainty they did at the table.

"Anyways," Cyrus continued. "I believe we both have goals, and that we should just use each other to those ends. Naturally, they should be achieved at the same time, so all things should work out."

"How do you plan to remove powers?"

Cyrus smiled. He felt his snake-like words had wrapped themselves around the girl's mind. He decided it was time to bite. "I'm guided by my own power. Intuition if you will. It leads me on the path to success in my endeavors. There's nothing it doesn't see. It might as well be fate. Something tells me I'm going to need you for this, because you are exceptional."

Without answering, Alcina turned around, walking straight out of the room. As she turned the corner outside the door, Ira popped into view, slowly meandering in, dragging her feet against the concrete floor.

"What is it, Ira?"

"You are an asshole, you know that?"

Cyrus let out a sigh. "It has to be done like this. There is no other way. Go comfort the girl, your job is still the same. Get close to her. I have something I need her for tomorrow."

"Yes sir." She moved forward, but stopped as she got to the door. "Actually, first, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"We've gotten this whole operation and everything, but how much closer have we actually gotten?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we any closer than when we started? When you found me?"

"Sure we are. We even have the girl that's the key!" Cyrus pointed his hand to the door.

"Sometimes I think that I should make sure you don't get sidetracked. I'll go talk to her now." Ira stepped out, shutting the simple metal door behind her.

***

Cyrus stepped down the tunnel, walking in stride with some of the lab coats as he came across a special looking door, with a odd wheel on the front. The lab coats gave him a nod as they turned back down the tunnel, disappearing around the corner beyond the pipes.

Cyrus turned the wheel on the outside of the metal door, like a miniature bank vault. It took some heft, but it easily swung open once the pins clicked into place. Inside was entirely white, with only the basics of furniture. A toilet was in the corner, with little more than a white slab of plastic acting as a bed. A man laid back on it, with his arms behind his head.

His clothes, once pristine and smooth, were now rumpled and covered in faint stains. His dark red shirt was ripped down the front, a few inches past the buttons, and his black slacks had lost their well-defined edges.

"Randy Young." Cyrus' voice did not hide his contempt.

"Now I figured someone so very smart and wise like yourself would know that my name is Randall. Randy is considered quite an unmannered name in some parts of the world, and my parents most certainly didn't hate me."

"Shut up. Your sarcasm can't hide your fear."

"Fear? I'm not afraid of you. You're an idiot. A decades old idiot. I just need to be careful that you're not running around with scissors. You'll poke yer eye out."

Randy had not moved from his spot on the bed, but had moved his left arm out so that he could stroke the unkempt shadow on his chin as he smirked at the ceiling.

"Randy, this time I have a method to make you submit. You should enjoy your free will while it lasts."

"You should know better than to say such things before you do it. If it fails you'll just sound like even more of a fuckwit."

"You are so crass and crude, and always hiding behind sarcasm."

"Well my name is Randy."

"You bring out the worst of me. I really hate what you've done."

"Hate what I've done? You ever look in a mirror? Your sorry ass has done so much shit. I just regret not taking you out when I had the chance." Randy sat up, losing his smirk.

"You never had the chance." Cyrus clutched tighter onto the object in his hand.

"I take it that's your super secret weapon against me?" Randy pointed an open hand towards Cyrus' fist.

"Sure." Cyrus walked forwards, lifting up his hand to reveal a syringe full of red.

Randy shook his head. "Go ahead and try it, but if it fails I'm just going to mock you relentlessly."

"So nothing will change. Aren't I glad that's the only thing you can do."

Cyrus swung his fist like a club towards Randy, landing a blow to the shoulder. As Randy jumped back, Cyrus managed to push on the syringe with his thumb, barely shooting a red liquid into Randy before it popped out.

Randy started writhing on the bed, grunting and yelling as he pushed the blanket around. Cyrus laughed, looking down at the sight in front of him in glee. Randy's grunts soon turned into laughs of his own. Cyrus stopped.

Randy looked over at him with a shit-eating grin. "I'm going to need more words to insult you with."

"Goddamn it." Cyrus threw the syringe at Randy.

"How are my nephews anyways?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Good. If something happened to them you would have been bragging about it."

"I have more important things to do than listen to you." Cyrus turned towards the door, banging it open with a frustrated kick.

"The girl's not going to work!" Randy shouted after him, only to be answered by the slamming metal door.

Ira was standing outside, watching him.

"You heard nothing."

"I didn't need to hear anything to know how it went. So it was a failure?"

"That's what happens when I act without that feeling. Of course it didn't work."

"I swear the condition was ingesting the blood though."

"I don't doubt that, but it still didn't work."