"Spill it. " The being standing at the monitor turned his gaze on a youthful woman dressed in an ensemble of black leather and belts. She lay on her small belly, on an overly stuffed but freshly stained sofa, polishing away at her AK-47 with a dirty rag. Her dark auburn hair splayed loosely out over her shoulders and at times bobbed over the weapon she was polishing, though she didn't seem to mind the strands of her hair that would stick to the weapon. When the being at the computer didn't answer, she looked up only to reveal an iridescent glow radiating from her emerald eyes-her look of impatience seemingly beamed brighter.

"I found them." The being replied, the emerald beam reflecting on the screens grabbing his attention. The youth's round lips pulled into a pout, one that became playful after a couple of seconds. She let out a sigh and sat up on the sofa before walking over to him-her AK-47 forgotten as she walked over to the screen.

"I'm ready for 'show and tell,' or do I have to read it for you?" she asked the being next to her with an air of expectancy. The being smiled at the youth admiringly but said nothing on the matter before turning back to the screen. His right eye then radiated a similar iridescent glow with a crimson color. It was the only difference between their eyes-that and his left iris remained grey and radiated nothing.

"There were other prisoners like us," he told her. "humanoid bio-organic weapons that still retain their consciousness. It seems they're both still alive." His monotone voice explained to her. The youth regarded the images displayed on the screen at first with contempt-the idea a preposterous one to her-after a few moments within that pregnant silence she asked, "They're both women, why?" the look of expectancy claimed her face once more and less admittedly, some jealousy welled within, but she would never admit to such a thing-pride denied her this as such.

"It's a rarity for successful humanoid bio-organic weapons to be anything but female because of a female's maternal qualities." The youth displayed a defensive look right after he finished speaking and as he did, her gaze returned to the screen.

"I think it would be worth it to track them down." He added, coaxing the youth's attention once mo

"Do you really want to go through with this?" she asked escaping the spell of her thoughts. "This is the fifth facility we've taken out of commission. We haven't taken any prisoners either. We have their attention." She gathered her hair from her face as she said this, really seeming unfazed by what she had just said. The being then turned to the youth and took her into her arms-their eyes radiated brightly as if on queue.

"You'll come with me, won't you?" he asked. She looked up into his bi-colored colored eyes and changed her air of expectancy to one of confidence-her face evident with a playful nature that coaxed for the full integrity of his attention.

"We had a deal. So in truth, it's what I should be asking you." She intended to earn a smirk from her companion but received none. She didn't seem fazed by this though, instead she reached up her hands and touched her companion's face-failing to acknowledge his slight reluctance towards her touch. His appearance was a frightening one to those who preferred the more innocent aspects of the world rather than the scars of its cruelty. While his right eye glowed an odd color, the entirety of his veins within his circulatory system had been mapped out just below the surface of his skin, a web of sickly green skin on a canvas of pale white adorned him, masked him. Only recently had his locks of red been dyed-for what reason she did not know or care to acknowledge-into a jet black.

"How could I forget?" he asked her, his voice quiet in its display of humor. Her smile became a triumphant one-though a victory over who was leading their actions wasn't what she was longing for; she still was satisfied with his response. "First thing's first though." he said returning his attention to the monitor once more. A few keystrokes and clicks of the mouse were audible in the following silence before her companion spoke again. "TriCell won't have any further existing records of Experiment X-120_Trinity…" his voices trailed off again as he focused in the remainder of his current task-during this time a look of child like anticipation invaded the leather clad youth's face before being swept over with relief. "…and the same goes for Project Phoenix." Her companion stated as the word "DELETED" appeared in big red letters across the screen. The youth slipped her arms around her companion's torso and rested her chin on his broad shoulder purring into his ear,

"So what now Burnside?" The man named Steve Burnside reached past the youth and picked up his Beretta 92F Inox from where it lay on the counter next to one of the system units. The youth looked down at the weapon as it swept by her hips in his hand-spotting the crimson dragon imprinted on the handle peaking back at her through the cracks of his fingers. She quirked a brow at it and looked up at Steve asking, "Where did you get that gun?" His fluid motion came to a pause in response to her curiosity. She frowned at the silence that followed, considering for a moment that she might regret having asked. She leaned her head foreword, chin temporarily digging into his shoulder as she noticed the expression on his face. It was as though he was pondering the same thing-or perhaps the appropriate method in which to put the weapon's history into words.

"That, Trinity, is a very long story." He said to her. The youth, having adapted the short label as a name, pouted again.

"We have the time, don't we?" she asked quirking a brow a second time. He offered her an apologetic smile as his Beretta 92F Inox slid into its leather holster like a knife through warm butter. Evidently the story would be for another time.

"We may," he began. "But what we don't have is the time for me to think about where to start." She shifted the air around her again to further stress her disappointment; as such she presumably had gained this dastardly talent through the duration of her captivity. Ineffective it was not, and yet her companion seemed immune to her dastardly trick-though at times she wondered if that was always the case.

"We don't have any reason to keep wasting time here. We have what we came for." He said to her as he retrieved her AK-47 from where it lay on the freshly stained and overly stuffed couch. She accepted the weapon with an unspoken gratitude and used the strap to hang it over her small shoulder as she followed him out of the dimly lit room-stepping over the still bleeding corpses of the beings who not long ago believed that this very place would provide them their sanctuary-as they did so. What guilt could these two humanoid tyrants feel towards the living they had made into corpses? For these corpses had been some of many who had taken from them their humanity.

"Its hard to believe its been eleven years. Officially today I mean." He spoke through the silence while regarding his watch, his gaze glued to the date to the left of its middle face.

"For you maybe." Trinity replied quietly. Steve's gaze shifted but Trinity didn't do the same.

"You still don't remember anything yet." his statement could have been regarded as a question but that he would leave for her to decide.

"I have fragments of memories but I have no idea if they're in order or not." He could see the shift in her features, her confidence quickly being replaced with sadness and uncertainty. He made no move to comfort her, unsure of how to effectively do so. Wallowing in his own bile left Steve self-conscious towards the idea of lending emotional support. Their boots click-clacked against the iron floor once they resumed their way along a route seemingly known only to them. Coming eventually towards a pair of iron doors at the end of the hallway that opening in response to their approach. Beyond the threshold of the door came an enormous warehouse, aircrafts stationed in neat rows. They entered and approached their selection, a falcon 20 that notably seemed out of place among the order in which every other vessel was stationed. He held out his hand, aiding Trinity in climbing up to the doorway of the cabin of the vessel. She regarded him with another look of gratitude before venturing in and leaving him alone for the next few seconds with his thoughts. Steve retrieved his Beretta and stared down at the red dragon imprinted on the handle, its black hole for an eye winked back at him, as if retelling the story of how he came into possession of it for that split second. There were so many stories revolving around this one piece of equipment his head would spin if he had to retell its grim tale. Then again the tale was not over, standing as he was now was proof of that. Once again, Steve slid the Beretta into its holster and climbed into the vessel. There were so many stories, tragic tales and unanswered questions that came with this one sidearm that made parting with it an impossibility.