[At first he doesn't even know what to make of this machine he's been handed. He's not sure how he got here, what he's supposed to do, what these people want from him, where Sora is... nothing makes sense. And he doesn't even have the comfort of having someone to blame for it.

After a few seconds of staring at the screen, he starts to type, pressing the keys a little harder than necessary.]

What's.

Going.

On.

[There's a pronounced pause before he decides that this isn't working. Maybe that's not specific enough. Maybe there's no one listening. Maybe he just doesn't get how this thing works.

Part of him wants to throw it at a wall, find a way out of here, and have done with it. Whatever "housing companions" he's supposed to have probably don't want him, anyway. He definitely doesn't want them. Just more people he'll lose when he gets back to where he's supposed to be.

For now, though, he's switching to video. He's hooded, still, so not much of his face can be seen, but he's staring at the screen with an expression of barely stable grim determination.]

Where's Sora?

[ Bariyan shows up on the feed, red-eyed and expressionless. ]

If anyone wants to leave the City, I've got a car and a couple days' worth of gas. You'll have to drive it yourself or find someone who can. There's a ship too, if anyone can steer it. I don't know-- never mind.

Just, if you want out, let me know. Quickly.


[ Private video to Artika, Martin Darkov, and Hazama (all separately) ]

I need to hear from you now. Where are you?

[There's little to see, but the vague notion of shifting cloth or limb or...something in the way.

There are voices, however. Several voices. There's a debate, and an ID-less netbook is picking it up crystal clear:]

"I do believe it's working."

"But we haven't the results to calculate that."

"I trust its effectiveness - we've seen it in tests."

"The serum is doing its job, Colonel. I've ensured its delivery into the water. It is injected into the foods daily. What more do you need?"

"We need evidence. Evidence that the Transports are having the desired reactions."

"That evidence... will not come until--" [There's suddenly a gasp. A woman's gasp, cutting off all talk abruptly.

In seconds, there's a flood of light as she turns, drawing the eyes of the speakers in the room, now in plain view of the netbook's camera. Remember that young woman? The one who's ushered you all into this mess? She's suddenly frozen in place, dumbstruck and a little...off.

She's noticed the recording, but everything else has a haze to it, a sense of uncertainty. Everything but the expression on their faces; most notably the Colonel. The woman's eyes, a luminous green, blackened at the whites, widen. Despite how suddenly still she's become, she's clearly surprised at her location at first, trying to recall how she made it into the meeting room, trying to make sense of the haze of everything.

She suddenly realizes -- really realizes that she's been broadcasting their conversation to who knows where...and before she can say a thing, she shoots up from her seat and hurries out of the room, her movement jerky and staggered. The men and women in the room are standing, but she's out before they make a move toward her, disappearing into the corridors of the Hold.

The screen is once again flooded darkly as a quick-moving body rushes to slam the netbook shut.

Ladies and gents, welcome to mod-approved Shit Getting Real™]