The One studied Byron, who stared back at him defiantly, then smiled.
"Good then. I leave you with your partner. She will accompany you, and will be responsible for Whitman Allgood." The One Who is the One turned around to face the hospital-white door that led to his personal office. "Enter, the One who Hunts."
Byron turned apprehensively to face the newcomer. A girl, clad in the standard white jumpsuit and blank, obedient expression worn by all brainwashed employees, walked in and stood at attention.
"Sir." she acknowledged the One Who is the One, disregarding Byron's very existence.
"Are you prepared to carry out the instructions I gave you earlier?" The One asked.
"Yes, sir. By the One's will, I will carry out my duties to the full extent they are owed." The One smiled, and lightly touched her nametag, No. 56734, straightening it. Byron watched her closely for any sign of disgust, but there was none. Only a hint of absolute brainwashed reverent obedience.
"Leave Wysteria to him."
The One left with those comforting words, and the girl looked at Byron for the first time, with obvious disgust. He nearly fell over backwards.
"We leave tomorrow," she said to him, as if to a nondescript rodent, "prepare yourself."
The girl was Celia, Whit's girlfriend.