Just so you know, this is not the "final" version but is hopefully close. There may still be minor changes, and by READING THIS, you acknowledge that. Anyway enjoy!

Prologue

A sharp tang of chemicals tugging to near unbearable levels; A small price to pay in creating life. The odor of freshly soldered metal still alive with pungency. The slow steady movement of plasma like mud through a slimed pipe—all minor prices to pay.

Bobbing ever so delicately as a plank on gentle waters. Almost a soothing rhythm: Up, down, up, continuing without end.

Darkness. Endless darkness swallowed the room, engulfing it in an indistinguishable void of despair. Such would soon intertwine the fate of the creation.

Chapter One



“It’s finally time.” Thomas Lakes, a man of roughly fifty years, announced. He picked casually at lint on his white attire. Several white coat wearing men and women flocked together, stepping in near symmetrical pace. The occasional arm swinger drifted towards the outer rim of the small formation.

The halls traveled on for what seemed forever. Endless stretches of bland shades of gray, a depressing sight to stare at often. All paused as the leader of the project stepped forward before sharing a small speech as he pushed open the massive doors before them.

The others hurried together around a long, white table. Its surface was cold and texture rough as sand paper. Each individual’s attention was directed to the center of the farthest wall. The room’s width was plenty a-gap for an entire lot of cars to fit within its enormous walls.

To the center of the room, a pill-shaped capsule remained a-glow. Its contents, a bubbly green substance, slurped through long, narrow pipes, leading beyond the room. Arm-like tentacles slithered amongst the green gel; each with small rotating rings occasionally brushing against the dark form in the center and sending paragraph-length bits of information across three small screens placed to the left side. Fifteen small lights blinked in rhythm to the bobbing form inside as it was pulled closer towards the opposite end.

“I present to you, our creation!” Lakes eyes wrinkled near the outer edges as his smile widened.

Almost with melodic grace his hand drifted to the control panel—which was an understatement by all measures—and pressed each key he desired with precision.

The capsule released steam from its top vents while the green substance lurched and gurgled through vacuum suction tubing.

“Isn’t it beautiful? Truly magnificent. Beautiful, simply beautiful!” The astounded Thomas Lakes watched his machinery unfold as it was programmed.

The capsule hissed open. Metal arms buzzed like mini chainsaws, holding the creation from crashing against the floor. Steam drifted off the creature, rising like freshly baked bread from the oven.

The crew leaned forward in nervous anticipation, a few clicking pens compulsively. The tentacle arms retracted in a whiz of streaming silver. The creation wavered back and forth; its eyes still securely shut.

Humanoid in appearance, its body was near fully adorned in metal plates, black—jet black—in color. Trims of red added contrast while the skull of an animal was engraved on one overlapping chest plate. Four, sword-like, metal extensions nearly touched the floor on either side of its head.

“A zyturri of course—One of our modern day miracles.”

The creature—a zyturri—stretched its arms out in front of itself and waved them through the air; its movement slow and unstable as a young kitten trying to walk. Legs trembling beneath it, it took one careful step back to balance itself.

“Shh, shhh! Everyone quiet!”

As if the crew had not priorly known, they nodded their heads—some only took notes.

The creature’s eyes opened halfway before it squinted them shut again. Its head tilted up as if to find the source of such bright light.

“Yes. Yes, that’s right, take your time…”

“I doubt he gets this excited over his own family.” One of the many coworkers murmured to his friend in a hushed voice.

The creature’s red eyes drifted open yet again. This time they remained in such a state. Its attention immediately zoned in on the man standing beside it.

“Welcome.” With precise caution, Lakes knelt.

Its gaze remained only a moment before the shuffling of paper caused it to shoot the others a stare of intense undecided emotion.

The moment of distraction was plenty. Assistant Christina Kinney, who had only recently joined beside Lakes, pulled a gun to eye level and fired. Bolts of blue electricity erupted from the weapon and danced around the creature before rendering it immobilized on the floor.

“Get a restraint on that thing, Thomas.”

“It meant no harm.” Lakes reached out to accept the dull gray band. In the center rested a magnificent blue gem, sparkling in splendor. With the creation subdued it was no chore at all to secure the device around its neck.

The device worked as a type of restraint—emitting a painful electric current which would promptly stop the creature’s system.

Four others gathered around the currently deactivated creature, lifting it together at once. Without exchange of conversation they transported the metal being through long halls, each step an echo down the way.

The floor below them beamed with streams of yellow light while the vents blew cool breeze into the otherwise warm hall. Despite its endless lengths it remained warm from all operational machinery. Long, thick wires raced its lengths, snaking through the vent shafts.

Within ten minutes the team arrived in the intended room. This room, unlike many of the others, was small in size. Light filtered in through vents and floor panels while the general tone of the room was dreary with pale plates of gray matched only by more silver tinged walls.

Transparent, green-tinted, plastic railing incased the shallow stairway leading to the two schedule charts and what they considered to be a creation display case. Massive wires spilled over the top and from beneath the bottom. Gray panels of thick casing stretched the entire distance of the taller capsule.

Fitting snug around its lower rim, a thick generator was in place for the purpose of regulating pressure and temperature. The zyturri creature was placed inside securely before several alarms were set in place.

Motion detecting rays of light ran criss-cross through the room while five separate cameras were all focused on the capsule. From the other side of the room, one of the scientists activated a switch.

One long, pronged, metal arm creaked forward and gathered a small collection of electricity before touching the creature. The sudden application bounced the zyturri against the outer cover and woke it with a start.

As it finally came to a fully conscious state, the last of the humans disappeared behind closed doors. The lights dimmed to an orange tinged glow.

Sound was muffled from the outside world for the creature while it was amplified within the capsule. The relatively small zyturri leaned his face against the charcoal window and placed his hands to either side of his head to brace himself as he gazed out.

His red eyes were watchful yet distressed and confused. He gazed at each camera and tapped the casing with care. Nothing.

Where am I?

He looked down at his metal shielded legs. Small plates of armor nearing only an inch in size rotated back and forth without pause.

What am I?

The creature shook his head, the clank of his helmet fins near frightening him.

And why am I here?

*insert montage of Brad preparing to read here*

*Reading dictionary* *brain is flexing with every beat of manly heart* Concentration….. MAXIMUM.

SIR DA BRAIN CORES CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE OF THIS. D= WE’LL NEED TO SHUTDOWN DATABASE ACCESS.

Intern 3: Um…dat’s been shut down indefinitely since 2002. =.

>_> <_< Why are we still overheating?

Intern 2: SIR it appears it is not our vessel at all! It this…story, it’s um…well…don’t look directly at it, it’s…it’s coolness is off the charts. Like literally, the meter broke the glass and grew eyes and is bouncing all over our charting charts!

BLAST. Who would do such a thing to this innocent brain? WHY would someone create something so overly cool it would make us need to WOOOORK. *falls to knees* Bring me my bandanna and a slice of pepperoni, we’re gonna get through this if it kills you.

Intern 3: But sir? How are you immune? We should get a blood sample an-

Brain: *loud booming growl*

@_@ Don’t EVER mention something related to needles, you know how this brain works.

Intern 3: My bad sir. ._.

Time for PRO LOGGING. Ahem. Time for the prooooolooooguuuueeee. =D

This I find to be rather fascinating. The details are so…sensory descriptive, yet strangely vague. Plus, the ending sentence makes everything come together. =U I have decided it is the blender of these sentences. I’m not even sure what to make of this actually. :-?
I read it three times and I get different thoughts and emotions each time. xD Ones of emptiness, one of the sense of discovery that surely comes with creation, and oddly enough, one of torture. o.0 Because the way you describe stuff is very medical-y. xD

Overall neat and interesting. =U A great way to start the story I would say.

Chapter….One. @_@ Let it riiiing through your ears like a gunshot at close range. The sound, of success. Of anticipation, of amazingness of….entertainment. =|

CHAPTER ONE START. BuHWAAAAAAAAH.

THOMAS LAKES. Hello Sir Thomas! Are you one of those evil scientist people? Dang how can I comment seriously when I’m so…excited? =O Fifty years. Pfffft, Gramps trollolol. Occasional arm swinger. =O What a fantastic detail. =P Really adds a lot of depth to that description there. @_@ Lets me picture their moving mannerisms a lot easier. Dang. =O Big room. And talk about an uncomfortable table, hopefully Micro doesn’t spend much conscious time on there. =U

Wow what a unique machine. .0. Tentacles, lights and paragraphs. Neato. =P Nice detail with the eye wrinkles too. @_@ Guess who’s still got it? =D Me, I still have eye wrinkles. >=( Ahem. >_> YOU still have your skill with perfect details in perfect places.

Wow, I really like with the revealing here and the whole…Micro waking up that you compare it to a lot of simple things, which in turn make a much bigger and complex picture. Like fresh bread, silver streams, young kitten trying to walk? Nice. =P

Dang, poor Micro. You’d think Thomas would know of his light weakness since he created him…or maybe he does and he is just testing him? xDD He must be proud to have such an optimistic coworker.

OH DANG. D= Someone get the newbie trigger happy lady out of there. >=( Poor Micro, now he finds them all to be epic hostile. Come on guys gosh. =U Greeeeaaaat now we get mean collar. =U Something Brad has not yet conquered in his mind in terms of removal. Sorry Micro, I got no tips for ya. =U Nice hallway descripting. =. Really makes it sound like a neutral place, not good, not bad, just…there. Waiting for some more events to make the decision. Okay intended room sounds depressing. =U xD Probably rightfully so too.

Wow, restrain him with no way to get out (Oh, he’ll find a way. >=D xD) and zap him awake, what a perfect way to welcome him to the world. Wow. =U SO many questions.

“Your name is Edge, you have amnesia. =U

Micro: Oh. =. Was I bad?

“Um…no. >_> You were a hero, a fantastic fighter and you helped children.”

Micro: In bad ways?

“NO…you’re good. >=(“

Micro: Did I kill people?

“@________@ What the heck…”

FANTASTIC! GREAT! AMAZING! EXCITING!

Alright this was a great re-intro to the story. I had a ton fo fun reading it and commenting again. I am a little rusty so hopefully my skill will improve with more replies. xD Thank you very much for posting. I think you really have a great tone set here, it’s quite mature, serious and well thought out. =U I am quite anxious to see how this continues to go as due to my mind, I don’t exactly remember all the details of old story either. xD

That manly heart =U
SINCE 2002 XD!!!

Oh my =U I almost feel bad for writing this for the sheer levels of pain and misery it causes those who read.

Whoohoo for sensoryness! I had to be vague and detailed at the same time yes |D I revised it some from its original format. I’ve long forgotten what the orig was anyway though. Hahaha XDD You’re not supposed to after all c: If I summarized the whole story in detail you would not wish to read, random reader =U XDDD I could totally see all three of those as being able to be gotten out of it actually =U So that’s neat that I managed all of um.

Whoohoo! I was considering getting rid of the prologue all together for awhile, but I thought it added a unique foretelling that was sort of vague and left it to one’s imagination. YES gramps Thomas lLakes minus the extra l. GRANDPAS CAN BE EPIC TOO.

I try my best to remember to add those subtle details like movement =U even though it is HARD when motivation for story is limited >_> XDD Chapter one was oddly enough, quite well constructed =U So I didn’t have to change a whole lot. I took out more than I added I think. Probably reworded some.

You and your eye wrinkles =| YOUR VIEW OF THAT MAY CHANGE when you see the totally new chapters =| THEN and ONLY then can you decide these THINGS. XD Brad likes a kitten sandwich apparently wrapped in silver tinfoil. Ahem >_>

Actually he knows nothing of this LIGHT weakness as I have made it something that develops gradually. In this case its merely the fact he hasn’t had his eyes open before so its epic bright. =U LOL yes. Trigger happy lady indeed XDD Ha! Nice Brad—about the collar. Yes =D I was going for generally neutral. More events indeed.

Hahaha XD intended room. Descript win. I guess they weren’t thinking about beauty when they designed that room =| I’m not sure restraining a poor zyturri upon first waking it up is a very nice thing to do. >,> XD

Look at all those kind words saying things of kindness at me… c: Your repkies are seeming pretty great to me. I mean replies 0_o so are your repkies XDDD And LOL random Edge reference to a story he’s not in c:

*puffs around proudly again =U * Well you’re in luck because the “old details” end there pretty much anyway. I have thusfar not kept any chapters I had previously had involving the scientists. They’re all rewritten.

<-- Mega10's avatar: Brad when reading Bloodspill.

Also check out my new age =U XDDD

Chapter Two



Night was peaceful enough if one did not mind not knowing why they had suddenly come to be nor what they were doing locked in a capsule. The nameless zyturri leaned against the window panel in light slumber. He had nothing better or more productive to do.

The dim lights never fully shut off and only the occasional scientist would venture in and stare for a few moments before disappearing once more. He did not enjoy nor understand the strange mannerisms his existence induced. Cameras recorded his every move, but he had no perception over what the devices were to care. He pulled his head down to rest against his shoulder once more.




Immunologists, Geneticists and a variety of others from various fields had gathered around the front of the capsule with Thomas Lakes at their lead. Each was far more talkative today and taking notes swiftly. The door of the capsule flung wide open with a single lurch, launching the zyturri across the floor. The zyturri toppled over a few times, his armor plates grinding into the floor and creating small scrapes on its surface.

His reaction time had become swifter than the night before, allowing him to be back on his feet in mere seconds.

The zyturri blinked at the humans and tilted his head to the side, nearly throwing himself off balance.

“Good morning!” Lakes announced cheerfully, leaning forward as much as his stiff back would allow. “Oh do come with us! We have much to do!”

The zyturri tilted his armored head to the opposite side. His mouth remained a frown of indecisive conflict. One of the men gave him a gentle push in hopes of encouraging him along. It did little more than get a subtle glare from him.

Christina Kinney stood in front of the zyturri, her chocolate hair bouncing atop her shoulders in tight curls.

“I suggest you move it.” She leaned down, her expression steel. “Unless you want to be zapped.”

Although uncertain as to what that meant, it was spoken in a manner that his mind was already registering as undesirable.

“There is no reason for such things!” Lakes huffed as he wedged himself between the two. “Don’t mind her.” The man turned to pat the zyturri’s head reassuringly. “Miss Kinney does not know how to properly appreciate.” He straightened his jacket coat, ignoring the deathly glares his assistant was casting at him. “Now then, as I saying...”

Lakes started his walk towards the door. The zyturri watched him for several steps. The others were still waiting around him. Again he trained his gaze on his creator, the urge to follow after him eventually taking over his initiative.

He stretched one leg out—much further than what felt natural. He glanced around himself, and then pulled the other right beside it. His arms instinctively stretched out to balance as he began to wobble. The next step was more sudden and forced in order to catch his failing balance. He tried to brace his foot against the slick floor but one leg spun out to the side. The other wobbled as he yanked the first unruly leg back, only for them to cross and still end up falling.

His helmet fins lowered.

“I had wondered if that would prove to be an unfavorable concept.” Lakes had paused in the doorway, rubbing at his chin as he eyed the zyturri’s feet skeptically.

The zyturri followed his creator’s gaze to the bottom of his own feet as he sat on the floor.

Lakes chuckled as he returned to the zyturri’s side and offered a hand to help him up. “No worries, you’ll learn. In time.”

The zyturri stared at his creator’s outstretched hand for several moments before glancing at his own and stretching it out. He studied the man’s expression with curiosity. The corners of his mouth were turned upwards unlike the rest of the humans in the room—Miss Kinney in particular, whose mouth seemed to turn down instead. He decided he liked that of his creator’s best and attempted to mimic it.

Lakes helped the small creature to his feet. The zyturri clung desperately to the man’s arm though as his feet began to slide out from underneath him once more and then twist in a multitude of ways. The man waited until the zyturri shakily got his feet to stay underneath him again.

“Ready now?”

Wide eyed, the zyturri shook his head and tightened his grasp.

“It is quite fine.” Lakes assured him once more. “You may hold on if you like.”

“At this rate we’ll be here all day.” Christina’s snide comment was just loud enough for the zyturri to hear, but from what he could tell, his creator had not.

They began to move again. The zyturri wrapped both of his arms around his creator’s as he was pulled along with him, his feet dragging further and further behind him. He tried to pull them forward, but then they slipped ahead, leaving him to kick them out in an attempt to get a stable foothold. Each time they only slipped faster though.

No one said anything as he continued to struggle.

How did it come so natural for the others? He cast a quick glance at the men and women in white coats around him and his creator. Their feet did not slide across the floor. They simply lifted them and set them back down. He tried to mimic the same action, but his feet refused to connect with the floor beneath so easily.

Still holding tight to his creator’s arm he settled for allowing his feet to remain slightly ahead. He studied the light emitting from the hall floors as the crew proceeded along and crossed the vents. The humans had no issue with them, but they felt strange against his feet. Occasionally he cast a glance skyward at the bright, rounded rectangles that were blurred by white light or scented faint traces of tart substances.

The zyturri’s attention jolted back to what was in front of him as his feet hit a block—the door trim. Cautiously he lifted his foot up over it, followed by the other. It took him a few moments to get his legs back under control, but it still came much quicker than the first time had. He glanced up again.

The room had bright, fluorescent lights showering even the farthest of corners. Counters with rather large devices atop them encompassed the room, each with a drawer that had a small, white label incased in plastic.

One shimmering silver table rested as the center of attention—exactly where everyone seemed to be heading.

“Alright, my little friend,” Lakes began, “I’m sure you have plenty of questions for us…but first…”

While the zyturri’s attention had been directed towards the oldest human, the others lifted him atop the slick surface of the table. His feet slipped and slid until he finally settled for sitting. Faces stared from all around. His helmet fins dropped to the sides of his head, red eyes staring uncertainly.

Thomas Lakes had come up beside him with a strange looking rounded object in hand.

“Can you say ‘ah’?”

The zyturri stared at the man in return. The staring continued for several seconds before Lakes spoke up again.

“Oh, come now, I’m not going to hurt you.” Lakes tried prying open his creation’s jaws with no success. “We…just…want to see…” The man was visibly struggling. He took a flat metal tool from his overcoat pocket and worked it between the zyturri’s clamped jaws, forcing them apart at last.

“Fascinating.”

Lakes held the other tool—a small pen light—near the creature’s mouth as he inspected its unusual teeth. They were similar to the width of nails but pointed like needles. Unlike most normal zyturri, the creature had at least three rows of them. Each row pressed against the row in front of it, causing them to have a vague resemblance to that of a shark.

“What?” The zyturri asked, although not quite understandable due to the fact he had a variety of tools in his mouth.

Lakes set the tools aside. “You have very unique teeth.”

“What…what does that mean?”

Lakes did not answer but insisted on rotating a small armor plate near the zyturri’s wrist until it had swiveled around with a relatively sharp tip jutting out. He soon moved from inspecting the armor to the zyturri’s feet.

At a surface glance it appeared as a relatively solid piece with only a few hairline cracks here and there. The man tapped at them until the thin armor parted and folded down, making room for tiny wheels to emerge. They were hardly visible from the surface.

The zyturri’s helmet fins twitched. Perhaps that had been why he had been unable to walk earlier—unknowingly activating the strange things. Did humans have round things in their feet too? Did they not use them?

“All functional.”

Lakes had scarcely a few additional moments to look over his work before they were interrupted by another human. The man leaned against the doorframe, clad in a smoky gray suit. He tilted his head down and gazed at the others from behind his narrow glasses.

“You’re late.” He tapped at the screen of the flat device in his hand. “We need to run testnow.”

Lakes huffed as the others in his group nodded. They presented no effort in adhering to the order however.

Additional men and women flocked into the room as the man in the doorway stepped aside.

“Impeding, presumptuous bigots.” Lakes muttered under his breath. “That’s all they ever want I tell you. Rush this, rush that! Have they no sense of art?”

The zyturri merely blinked while Lakes stared as if expecting some relevant answer.

“Let’s move here people.” The man in gray ordered.

“Right, right.” Lakes waved his arm. “Do as you please.”

The man nodded as his own accompanying group carried the small zyturri out of the room and through another hall. It did not take long to reach yet another room.

It was yet again a simple setup with very sparse furniture. Two foldable, metal chairs were positioned near an overly flourishing, broadleaved plant. Aside from a single panel on the wall, crammed with notes of all sorts, the room was devoid of distinguishing features.

They came to a stop once they had reached the farthest wall. No one else was present at the moment.

“Micro.”

The zyturri looked at the clump of humans around himself—none seemed to respond to the word.

“That’s you.” The human holding him set him down. “So much for ‘intelligent race.’”

Micro said nothing in response but clung to the man’s arm as he made his way through the door that had opened. It closed behind them.

Inside were two additional humans, each wearing a type of white, plastic overcoat. One of them—the one who seemed most preoccupied of all—sat on the opposite side of a narrow desk as he fiddled with a series of operation commands on the portable control panel he held.

Micro stared instead at the slender machine resting on the desk. From dozens of tiny holes, wires streamed down; their tips ending in wide, flat extensions.

“It will only take a few moments.”

At once the other who had been in the room began sorting through the wires and placing them appropriately on the small zyturri. Their sticky surfaces held them in place, allowing the man to connect the remainder with no trouble at all.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions.” The man at the desk looked up. “It’s painless, not that you should care.”

“Okay…”

“Do you know what you are?”

“No…not really.”

“That creep, Lakes. What’s he spent all this time doing?” Micro was about to answer, but the man held his hand up. “That wasn’t one of the questions. You are a Shapeshifter Hunter.”

“Zyturri….” Micro murmured as he looked down again, recalling the word he had heard the humans repeat most often.

“Yes, a zyturri.” The man replied with a sigh. “Well, mostly. You’re a clone; more like a fake zyturri, or at least the shadow of one already in existence.”

Micro blinked and tilted his head to the left.

“But a Shapeshifter Hunter is your actual type.”

Although he had heard the man, Micro’s attention was trained on a small desk decoration. It was composed of a stack of tiny stones with water trickling down the rockface. The water gathered in a small pool at the bottom, cycling back up to the top and repeating the process.

The Hunter stretched his short arm out with hesitance and reached towards the pool of water. His fingers dipped into the wet substance. Immediately he began to swirl two fingers in the limited space. Water splashed onto the desk. His helmet fins rose in a single jerk as he observed the darkened spot.

The man finally glanced up from his work. “What are you—”

“Zyturri.” Micro answered before he could finish.

“No—”

“Shapeshifter Hunter.” The young zyturri’s attention was still trained on the water.

“No.” The man set aside the panel for a moment. “Get your hands out of the water.”

“Water…” Micro repeated thoughtfully as he glanced down at his feet. “Feet have water.”

The man hesitated before straightening himself up. “What?”

“Water like this.” In disregard to what the man had just told him, Micro stuck his hand in the water again then ran his finger along the desk, watching as it gradually slid along. He let his foot roll across the floor, secure that he could cling to the chair if needed. “Feet like this.”

The man continued to stare for awhile as if he did not grasp the concept Micro thought he was plainly presenting then shook his head.

“No, no, no. Your feet don’t have water. They have wheels. They make things slippery.”

Micro stared blankly.

The man rolled his eyes and dipped his finger into the tiny pool before sliding it across the desk as well. “Slippery. Water and wheels are both,” he slid his finger across the desk again, “slippery.”

Micro beamed and nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Alright then.” The man sighed, directing his attention to the other two humans in the room. “Call Lakes and get this guy disconnected. All his vitals seem to be supporting themselves fine.”

Micro returned to dipping his hand in the water and swirling little patterns on the desk, kicking his feet occasionally in simplistic bliss.

“I think we can label this one a success.”

HELLO Mr Chapter 2. And Mr. Eastwood. =U And Mr Dancing Edge. Ah, a predicament is here right at the very beginning. Lack of knowledge, commencement of wonder. I do wonder exactly what it would be like to be…well, like that. Sort of awakened but with no knowledge. Because since he’s no infant it doesn’t appear like he needed to learn to really, well have well constructed thoughts or learn basic things. Is it sort of like amnesia then? Poor Micro. =U That’s a little depressing. People wander in and look at him, dim lights. I vote a breakout.

Ha ha ha!! What a way to let him out. xDD Throw him across the room, that’ll lighten his mood. =| I hope his scraping causes millions of dollars of damage to your hybrid organic titanium and diamond flooring. ‘One of the men gave him a gentle push in hopes of encouraging him along.’ Wow, has this guy ever dealt with test subjects before? xDD I kid. Christina is hardcore. .0. xDD

Wow it’s really cool how you are making lil Mikey interpret what he sees. =O At least Thomas is nice for now. =U Poor Wheelfoot. xD Such a great concept guys, if there is ever an earthquake I’m sure you’ll have him try and save you on slopes leading to magma right? THAT was a mature thought all right.

Yessss YESSSS he’s learning! =D xDD Sorry Mikey. >_> .I do know that’d be difficult to learn. So kudos for being a fast learner. No, not first. Questions and perhaps violence first, but never the strange table first. >=( =O HE TALKS. xDD I guess penlight in mouth isn’t so bad. =U I really like this inspection actually. xD Cool stuff that one really wouldn’t know about from a pic or even a Micro starring RP. Poor Lakes. xD He seems like a genuinely nice guy. But he is a scientist person who could be mistaken as a doctor and surely has many painful tools. =U All these interruptions. Well how was he supposed to know his name was Micro?? xDD So much for common sense among humans.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions.” The man at the desk looked up. “It’s painless, not that you should care.” ---- SEE. THIS is why these people annoy me. =U If only subtly, it’s the fact that none of them care whether another is in pain or not. No sympathy, no compassion and certainly no moral sense. Wow question asker, ya freakin’ jerk. =U Way to put down Micro. SORTA DUR. U not really a true zyturri kk? xDD

YAY THE WATER SCENE. =D I was graced with it’s greatness last year and finally I have seen it with mah own eyes. @_@ Wow that was a great way to end chapter actually. xD Not exactly cliffhanger or suspense, but yes, it IS a success. =D And it makes me wonder what will come next, despite my naïve ideas of future happenings.

Thank you very much for posting. =D Well done. =P Hopefully you didn’t think this would be boring or anything, because I found it to be rather fascinating. =U

Makes a video game with a violent front that depicts a hardcore looking brad running highspeed towards the "viewers" holding a little Micro's hand with an exploding building behind and helicopters circling just above it all in the air*

Yes =U it was a very kind way to let him out =U OPEN THE DOOR BOB. Ohlolz oops =. he fell out guys =U Actually no =U XDD well not something they've just created anyway. *gives man a detailed backstory AHEM* Christina is always hardcore =U XDD

LOLOLOL recalls our thoughts of Micro/Blood and slopes and wrath pushing him away with they argue =U * *is amused* Mikey XDXD Epic name you've given him there.

Questions and violence first XDXD Oh gosh brad. I love your definitions. Never strange table first XDXD Precisely. I needed to discuss some Micro exclusives, this inspection was the perfect way Xd

And lol yes! c: Lakes does seem to be quite nice |D He uses fancy words and gets upset at people a lot =U XD

But yes =U I'm sure he has painful tools still :c Other humans presumed Lakes had told him this info already lolz =U Humans, assuming from the beginning, showing off their true personalities XD


Question asker is not particularly kind no XD

Brad now you sound all sciency with that reply XDXD

Chapter Three




A leap in medical wonders—that’s what they’re calling it. Another step closer to the goal we’ve strived towards for countless years. Seaside Scientific Research Facility has recently announced their first success in the creation of a cloned zyturri. A Shapeshifter Hunter they’ve given the nickname “Micro.” Details are still sparse, but rest assured SSLN News is dedicated to keeping you posted on this remarkable happening with all the latest updates.

—SSLN Morning News




Micro had been observing the Healer for the past twenty minutes although the other seemed entirely preoccupied with his work. Micro’s helmet fins twitched. The Healer was always busy moving things around from one place to another. From the few rumors the young Hunter had heard from the human workers, the Healer, Scalar, assisted them regularly.

“You know, you could be playing.”

“With what?” Micro glanced around skeptically. “There’s nothing fun in here.”

The Healer scanned the room before once more attuning his attention to the rows of supplies laid in front of him. Furnished with an assortment of cabinets, desk, and counter space, the small room would certainly appear bland to the curiosity of a child. The only other items in the room were a sparse few, bulky, old machines with thick, white sheets tossed over their tops—results of the storage rooms being full.

“You could read a book.”

“I don’t want to read a book.” Micro protested. “That’s all I ever get to do.”

It was true to an extent. Now that it had been quite awhile since his initial creation, the humans’ hype over success and ‘a leap in possibilities’ had died down. They had moved on to other projects and thus his creator was more often than not, busy.

Micro had his own ‘unit’ as the humans called them—a small room. The downside to such a feature was the lack of company. He spent many a day completely alone. Books were plentiful. They allowed him to borrow any that they happened to own. Unfortunately the majority were boring beyond anything he could imagine.

“You’re the one who wanted to come out.”

“It’s boring in my room!” Micro whined as he followed after the now departing Healer.

He drifted back and forth with long sweeping strides. In the past three years he had perfected the action with ease; now it came just as natural as standing or speaking.

“I want to do something.”

“You are doing something.”

“Not like that.” Micro shook his head. “I want a job.”

“You’re a kid. You don’t need a job.”

Micro huffed indignantly, but was unable to think of an adequate comeback. Giving up on convincing Scalar of anything, Micro settled for watching the doors glide by on either side. The single, blue light positioned over each had a slight blur. Scalar was moving fairly fast—a fast walk. That was what the scientists referred to the action as whenever they chose to move in such a manner.

Micro turned abruptly, cutting off the rolling effect in an instant. Scalar entered a series of keycodes on the flat panel beside the room entrance and waited for the door to slide back. A quiet beep announced the code was accepted. The door hissed open and the Healer stepped inside, setting his box of supplies on one of the long, silver counters.

One by one, he began to unpack the rolled supplies. Once finished he picked the box up again and moved on to the next. Room after room, the process repeated. Each looked the same aside from an item here or there. White, white, white. Micro was tired of white. Were they not capable of using other colors for a change? He knew several existed. Maybe some brown, gold, blue, red, purple—any color would work.

“Humans have no creativity.”

“Is that so?”

They had stopped in a more open room now. It had no doors leading to it and the hall simply travelled right through the center, continuing on the opposite side.

“Yeah.” Micro answered as he tucked the wheels back into his feet so that he could more easily cross the giant rug in the center—even it was white. “They painted everything boring.”

Scalar chuckled and shook his head. “No, silly. They’re just busy helping and researching. There’s plenty of other buildings with all kinds of colors and designs.”

“Can we go see them?” Micro knew the question was pointless—he had never been allowed out—but it did not stop him from asking.

“Of course not.” Scalar carried on without the slightest hesitation. “Maybe when you’re older.”

Micro’s eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what that meant—a nice way of saying no while avoiding the definite answer. Scalar was smart, but Micro was determined to be even smarter—one day.

“Scalar.”

The Healer had been standing tip-toe as he attempted to place the empty box on one of the highest shelves of the room they had just entered. With another single shove, the box stayed where he had been attempting to direct it.

“Do you ever intend to grant me a moment to actually work?”

Micro dismissed the question. Scalar seemed to be working just fine to him.

“Will you tell me about Hunters again—the ones who live in the wild?”

“It’s not ‘the wild,’ it’s called the city.” Scalar corrected. “But sure, I guess.” He dusted himself off and readjusted the sleeve of the coat he was wearing. “So the Hunters like to form packs as I told you last time. It’s like their personal, traveling community.”

“Talk about the ranks!” Micro interjected, his voice a high pitched squeak.

“There’s the pack leader. That one is usually the strongest or the smartest. Challengers to the title can fight for it if they want, but if they lose, they tend to become the pack accepted lowest.”

Micro balled his hands into fists. “I’m gonna lead my own pack!”

“Really now?” Scalar asked with a most skeptical stare. “Who’s going to be joining it?”

Micro hardly registered the question. He would figure that part out later.

It was the Shapeshifter Hunters who were saving the city and whole continent from the untrustworthy Shapeshifters. He had not heard of any other zyturri race that had such an interesting history.

The only half comparable was the zyturri species itself. They had their ancestry grounded in a previous race, namely the zytrra or Yiyorians. Zyturrii still held characteristics of their alien predecessors. Zytrra had possessed several layers of external protection that formed a hard casing very similar to the metals the humans had brought along with them upon inhabiting Yohyrayi. Furthermore, the very organs most zyturrii possessed were the results of studying the remaining zytrra samples they had possessed and harvesting new crops. The process, Micro did not understand, even if the scientists had tried to explain it more than once.

“Daydreaming?”

Micro’s pointed helmet fins shot up. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s hard to tell a story when you phase out like that, you know.”

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“You know.” Scalar leaned against the storage shelves. “You worry about thinking more than any kid your age I’ve ever met; and I don’t care if zyturrii develop in that aspect faster.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Scalar shook his head before straightening himself up and shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Frowning, Micro once again addressed the Healer. “If zyturrii are so smart and develop quicker, how come we’re not in charge?”

“We work side by side.”

“Yeah, but humans—”

“I don’t know, Micro.”

Silence.

Micro’s long, dark, helmet fins twitched as a grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “For being a zyturri doctor person you don’t seem to know much.”

CHAPTER 3: Stealthy Arrival Edition. =U

Okay, I really, really like how you started this off. xD Especially since you didn't have the SSLN report in the previous chapters, it really shows how important what's going on is to, say, the rest of Seaside. So nice job with that!

Wow, poor Micro. xD Nothing to play with. .0. Sounds like a boring room. =| Imagination what? Maybe he doesn't know what that is yet. =) I'm so nice. >_> Sorry Micro. They need to buy him some more books. =U A prized creation who is now ignored and is bored all day deserves some I would say. Maybe. Ye-..yep. *nod*

Poor Scalar. xD Trying to concentrate and little Micro just complains. Reminds me of...me. .0. xDD iiice rolling description. =D He CAN use his feet adequately now. xD YES someone speaks out against the white. Enough white. >=O Find a color that hides the blood and bacteria and other bodily fluids and things. Pretty sure these guys don't much TRULY care about things LOOKING sterile. Clearly that's the reason for the white too. Troll Scalar. =U There are colors!...u just can't go see. =U

HA HA HA! The wild. xD Micro gets excited. =O He dreams of being a full fledged hunter one day. =U A bold statement Micro, you don't seem fit to lead. This smells fishy. =U I like how I get to re-learn this stuff because Micro asked about it, and I'm sure that was part of your intention. =P Hmmm...Yiyorians, either that's a new word or I totally forgot. =. Apologizes for daydreaming. xD That's a sign Scalar, he's going too deep. D= xD Aha, he is aware. Good or bad, yet to be determined.

=. A plot to overthrow humans is starting. =D YES. Remove the inferior. >=O xDD Micro's comment was an epic way to end that too, little bit of insulting humor. =) xDD A very amusing chapter, sure helped build the relationship between Sir Micro and Sir Scalar and introduce elements of the workplace and the hunter race. =U Clever clever. Thanks for posting!

Sorry it took so long to reply to this. I was immensely tired/busy =O

I'm so glad you liked how I started it off. It took a lot of thought. I mean it may SEEM simple, but the tidbits at the top mean I altered how the entire story layout works XD And yes, that was my goal. Showing the importance of these happenings from outside resources since Micro's viewpoint, this is just every day life =U

Bored Micro is bored. Dun wanna use imagination. It is an evil thing. XP

Too bad for Scalar, Micro decided he would follow said Healer...RELENTLESSLY. Yus feet have adequate ability to now C| XPXP Gosh, violence in brad's mind. Goes on in that facility I mean. Blood and bacteria. Would have been Wrath's name if he had been Smaller than Blood =| .....Bacteria. XPXP

You are correct =O that was a pretty trolly sounding move by Scalar who I almost called Darryl 0_o And..yes the wild XD Micro has an odd perception on what is outside. Of course he does .0. Hunters are cool in his mind. Yus! That was another difficuklt thing to do. I needed to give some history and incite both to appearance, races, species and all that without being boring and giving a report on it XP After all I'm not sure in any old version if I had ever truly describes the race's connection to the prevoius one. Er, Species, nor Hunters (beyond the fact they hunt shapeshifters XP) etc.

Yiyorians is just another name for the zytrra. It's derived from their planet name and thus local habitation.

Scalar just kindly thinks that Micro is weird =U XDXD

Micro thinks too much =U ......remove the inferior XDXDXD Why thank you =D I thought it made for a nice ending XD Because yus, it is amusing, shows how the two get along and furthermore it sort of shows that was about the extent of Micro's thoughts on the matter. Yes he was thinking a lot and has many thoughts probably beyond what is normal for his age as stated, yet there's still quite the big disconnect to its importance and rather his interest is in the fact that Scalar apparently doesn't know much XP

THANK YOU |D

Chapter Four




Micro kicked his feet against the side of his bed, casually staring at the wall opposite to his current position. It was white, just like all the others with nothing interesting to stare at. The stack of books beside him had some color although the insides were just long lines of white and black words.

Most were way beyond his comprehension. Things his dad—his creator was technically his father, right?—had well meaningfully gathered together for him. The man had apologized profusely for his absence, but had yet again gone away.

Was this how the Hunter kids outside lived? No, because they probably had other Hunter kids to play with. What was play? Everyone consistently told him to go play, yet no one had actually explained the concept. Was playing a state of mind or an action? It sounded more like an action.

An unexpected sharp thud against the door made Micro’s helmet fins perk up as he turned to face the plain, white panel. It lurched then slide back into the hollow slot on the wall with a hiss. Waiting in the doorway was a sky blue zyturri with white boot-like armor around the lower portion of his legs.

“Scalar?”

“Good morning, Micro.” The Healer eyed the books beside him. “Planning to become a Chemist?”

“I could if I wanted…” Micro murmured.

“I don’t doubt it.”

The Healer leaned against the door much like one might with an elevator as he shifted his weight to the other foot. After a moment he held out the large book he had been holding. The front had a full color image of city landscape.

Micro blinked at Scalar, but made no move towards it.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want it?”

Without an answer, Micro slid off his bed and plodded over, taking the massive book with both arms and then setting it down. It was nearly as tall as he was, not that he was particularly tall. He turned his attention to its sleek cover that was simply confounding. Strange shapes stuck out of the ground and jutted up; furthermore there was no ceiling—just a bluish-gray thing.

“What is it?”

“A book.” Scalar replied with mild sarcasm before quickly modifying the smirk to a simple smile. “Seaside city landscape. Thought you might want to see what some of the other buildings looked like.”

Micro’s gaze returned to the book in front of him. It was hard to process such a concept without having been exposed to it before. He had never set foot outside, nor had the scientists referenced it much—only the occasional statement like ‘it’s storming out there,’ or ‘it’s freezing.’ Micro had no perception of what such conditions were.

“Thanks.”

“I’m sure you’ll find time to fit it in with all that chemistry.”

Micro glanced at the other books and then back to Scalar. “Before the chemistry books.”

Scalar chuckled and nodded. “Sounds like a logical plan.” He crossed his arms. “Well, gotta head back to work; stay out of trouble.”

The door snapped back into place as Scalar disappeared once again.

Micro pushed his new book over beside his bed and then splayed it open. His helmet fins rose and fell as he observed the different images and tried to read the corresponding information about them. The first few pages held images of strange box shaped things that traveled along dark gray strips that were squeezed between buildings—cars and roads if he had read the information right.

There were more buildings than he could have ever imagined, but most amazing of all was the giant gray pool of water. Its huge width spanned further than the image could show in all directions.

“Ocean.” He repeated.

According to the description, the ocean was deep. Way deeper than any human or zyturri was tall. How come no one had ever told him how huge “outside” was? He had always thought the Research Center was big, but all the things he had seen in this book had to amount to more than a hundred times that.

He continued to flip through pages, noting the strange, top heavy shape of trees, and the rough, choppy spikes of grass. The blue-gray thing was a sky. There were so many things to learn! But then again…why? Would he ever get to see it? The staff had always told him it was dangerous out there. It did not look dangerous in the pictures.

The door slid open again, this time a human was waiting on the other side. Micro had never seen the man on the other side which left him to assume one thing. They wanted him for something. Stranger humans only visited if they needed him for something.

Leaving his new book where it was, he joined the human.




“Vitals still look good.”

Micro frowned and sighed. This was boring. He shifted around a bit when the human had turned away. The flat, metal-like table was not very comfortable, but he did not want to hurt the man’s feelings by stating it.

The research staff did this almost routinely, although it had become less frequent over the years. Vitals. They were always occupied with those. Micro did not even know what a vital was anyway, but rather that it involved them poking at him and having to sit still for a long time until they had proclaimed vitals to still look “good.”

Were they incapable of paying the same attention to him as they did vitals? Micro sighed again as he watched the human entering data on the prehistoric looking computer in the room. It was a fat thing, nothing at all like the slim, large screened ones they had most everywhere else. Within minutes he grew bored of it and let his gaze wander to everything else, but even that proved to be disinteresting. He had seen it all at least a hundred times.

With nothing of any interest to do, Micro began to let his mind drift to the information he had seen about the world outside. He tried to imagine trees and grass in the white room instead—or even make it one of the things called stores.

The distant echo of voices drew his attention from the task. It was normal to hear voices when he was out of his room because the staff walked these halls regularly and they were adamant about verbalizing their opinions. This was different.

Without any warning for the poor soul responsible for his current whereabouts, the Hunter flung himself off of the table, landing with minimal grace as he recollected his limbs and raced towards the partially open door. The man had not judged Micro’s size accurately and the young zyturri managed to squirm through it without much difficulty.

“Hey!”

Micro glanced over his shoulder as he rolled along down the hall—the man was trying to override the controls he had set for the door.

“Sorry!” He squeaked apologetically, but did not alter his course.

It took hardly any time to pinpoint the voice to the corresponding human. Micro approached in a hurry, sliding to a stop beside him.

“Oh my.” The man blinked a few times and adjusted his glasses. “Micro!”

Micro’s creator, Thomas Lakes, was accompanied by another man as well. Their attention only rested on him for a moment though as the man from earlier had come stomping down the hallway like a whole herd of wild humans.

Once he realized that Micro had been stopped by someone else, his pace slowed—his expression a mix of both pain and relief. He paused to rest his hands on his knees.

“There you….whew…just….just a moment.”

Micro looked to Lakes again, helmet fins twitching. “I just wanted to see you—I wasn’t trying to cause trouble.”

“Your voice.” The human pointed at him with a single finger. “It is…”

“Sounds like someone’s strangling him.” The other man interjected as he rearranged the papers in his arms.

Micro took a step back. “What?”

“It is worse than it was before. Surely, you aren’t ill, are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Everything…everything seems fine.” The other had straightened himself upright. “Perhaps it just never fully developed.”

“Possible….” Lakes lifted two fingers to his chin and tapped them against it.

“Is that wrong?”

“No.” Lakes assured. “Just unique.”

Micro had never given his voice much thought before. It was different than others. Some words made no sound or cut off abruptly in the middle; others were high pitched squeaks that could drop in tone dramatically in a single syllable.

The humans looked from one to another amongst themselves for a few moments. No one spoke and to the best of Micro’s knowledge, none of them had transmitters like the zyturrii did. There would be no reason for them to be communicating silently anyway.

Lakes shook his head and sighed, breaking the silent trance of the others. “Enough of that though. We have matters to discuss.”

Chapter chapter CHAPTER 4. Wow even early in the morning I'm all awake and excited to read. xD Four chapters. =O Two of which are recent. Do you realize you've posted half your story in less than a month? =U xD Hmm whhhhy so much beginning babble? That's not what you wish to read. =U After this statement I will get on with reading the actual story and commenting on that. =)

The blank color theme is very prominent in these opening sentences, I think that works very well. =P Despite me already knowing how colorless the place is, the addition of the book and it's color details really confirmed that point. Creator technically a father, in question format. Hmmm, will that be answered or is the answer as plain as it could be? xD Poor Micro. Given books on boring things. I really like this bit for some reason, a 'father' well meaningfully giving books to his 'son' as an apology, yet going away again anyway. =U I don't like the scene because it's a happy image, or I like to see Micro get abandoned, but because it's rather simple yet powerful. Hard to describe, I dunno, like because Micro doesn't despise him for it, plus the fact that he understands the good meaning behind it and stuff. I DUNNO. Nice job. =U xD

Gosh the poor turrie doesn't know how to play. =U I like how he limited play to a state of mind or an action, like it can't be something else. xD YES Scalar he IS planning to be a chemist and you're interrupting his studies. =U Wow, see I didn't know he actually had no idea what the outside looked like. That picture must be very confusing to him. Good for Scalar, that was pretty nice of him to bring that to lil Micro. Before chemistry. xD Nice, I like that. Logic is present. Outside is large. xD I pity him now. .0. I thought he was just tortured of the beauty of the outside before, but now, him just finding out about it is making me feel really guilty for some reason. Like it's my fault. I SHOULD HAVE EDUCATED THIS MANKID.

Aw, leaving the book. =U That's a sad concept. xD Finally getting a glimpse of this work and now he has to abandon it for some lame tests. Yes, imagination...YES a flee attempt. GO MICRO GO. =O Stoppingness? You don't do that during a flee. >=( Voice. =O Doesn't talk much then does he? Or does he? If they notice a difference? Hmmm. I don't remember you telling me about any issues Micro had related to loss of voice. So is this humans being dumb? Or a foretelling of terror? @_@ xD

I think you did fantastic with this chapter, it was subtle yes, but it's an amazing subtle. The amount of depth added to Micro in here is outstanding...and I thought I knew him well before. I think it's pretty cool how you must have these mindsets to describe everything so perfectly, a true gift I tells ya! Every chapter is so new and unique in concept and growth. Nice job and once again thank you for posting! =D

Who's to say I'm not amused my your random statements? I am XP I am glad you are not dreading reading it too |D It's just Micro's reasoning XD He'd like to have family too >=U XD

I don't like the scene because it's a happy image, Will take that out of context in the future many times =U Because Micro is smart C| ............AND YET IT IS NOT WHAT HE WANTS AND HE IS NOT UPSET >:U ........*is not angry* C| I am glad you like eet.

I figure he wouldn't have any reason to really. Know what outside looked like I mean. He's never been out there, and aside from random bits of info dropped in conversation no one has ever told him about it so~ C: Brad should have educated trollololol XD that amuses me a lot for some reason.

......You don't remember that Blood's voice is messed up? XD He only whispers and he barely talks at all when he leads the gang o3o His voice is messedup. It was in the first one too. It's all squeaky and inconsistent.

XDXD Brad you are a horrible influence on Micro D: telling him to run away like that XP Anyway glad you enjoyed~
Whoohoo for depth! As stated, I'm taking this version of Bloodspill slower than the other XP Last Bloodspill I think he had bloodlines by chapter 2 o3o trollololol. Here we're at 5 with nothing XD I mean 4.

Chapter Five




“So Bloodlines, huh?”

“Yes, precisely. To mimic that of a human.”

Although listening, Micro did not understand much of what this actually meant. He cast glances from one human to the next, checking their expressions and gestures to get an understanding of how they felt in regards to the matter.

“And we want to do this, why?”

Yes. That was a good question. One Micro had wondered himself.

“Think about the possibilities! If a zyturri’s plasma can be replaced by supplemental Bloodlines then perhaps we are more like them than we know. We could work the opposite way—humans with Plasmalines. It could be the cure.”

The cure for what? Micro did not know. The scientists often spoke of cures for various things with strange names. Scalar had once explained to him that they were diseases—some kind of ailments that seemed to occur frequently in those not living in the Research Center. Either way, their goal was now clear. It was not about him at all. It was about other people. He rubbed one eye, spacing out until he heard his name mentioned again.

“Why him? He’s a clone.”

“All systems have run normal, comparable to being created naturally. He’s the only one who we aren’t testing with one thing or another. We’d have a more accurate answer.”

“And thus far you can see no complications to arise?”

“Under our current understanding, no. We have had no ill encounters between the zyturri’s system and the coating used to envelop the lining. I think it would simply be a matter of seeing if their bodies are able to utilize all aspects of blood as they do with other things.”

“With the risk of them not and having some ill effect.”

“Well, I suppose, but the chances are slim I would think.”

“It isn’t any of your concern anyway.” A third voice called from the doorway. A woman.

Micro watched as Christina Kinney entered the room, striding purposefully past him and directly to the center of the table the others had gathered around.

“The board already approved it.”

“We could always appeal.” Lakes insisted.

From what Micro had been able to understand of the conversation, his dad—creator— was against this whole idea, at least for now.

“It’s a simple procedure. There’s no reason to.”

“Simple? Do you truly find ripping out half of the perfectly adequate, existing lining, replacing it, all the while guarding against structural collapse and furthermore taking into consideration the fact these Plasmalines branch off very much the same way our own veins do, forcing us to pursue after and locate them-” He paused only to recollect his breath “-as simplistic?”

Micro shuddered, shrinking back at the thought of such a thing. Staying in his room did not sound half as bad when evaluated alongside that option. His helmet fins tucked down lower against his head. He wished someone was there who would tell him it would all be okay, that no one would tear any part of him apart. That life would continue as normal.

“My apologies for the wording.” Lakes had turned towards him. “You would be sleeping through it.”

Micro did not answer but nodded uncertainly. He was not sure how anyone could sleep through such a thing, but also could not see why the man would lie to him. Christina put her hands up, quickly turning and exiting the room just as fast as she had come in. Judging by her reaction, Micro guessed she had not achieved what she had intended to.

“I feel the topic has not been thoroughly researched.”

“We’ve been researching this stuff since before your little buddy was even a consideration. If we don’t start trying now then when? We have to start somewhere.” The man clasped his hands together for a brief moment as he leaned forward on the table. “Besides, who’s to say he’s even sentient? He’s a clone. A clone of a race that hasn’t even been universally accepted as a type of person. They’re creatures.”

Micro’s helmet fins lowered. Not sentient? Not a person? Not even a zyturri? But he was! He was real! He was as real as any of them! He had feelings, thoughts, fears—oh definitely fears. Did not that make him sentient?

Lakes countered with a jumble of facts and terms Micro likely could not have understood even if he had been listening attentively. Humans all around the table were adding their opinions now. What had started out as an orderly debate was now a garble of information hurled at one another without any sense of clarity.

Micro backed away from them, a slight frown upon his face as he watched the chaos unfold. The humans were not harming each other, but some were clearly irritated. Others remained calm, shaking their heads with arms folded in front of themselves. A few of the others had branched off into conversations of their own.

None of them noticed when yet another man had paused in the doorway—none aside from Micro. The man waited only a few more moments before taking the initiative of coming in and addressing the group. His first attempt went unnoticed, forcing him to raise his voice.

“Gentlemen!”

This time the group of debating men and women all quieted in a gradual drag as they gave the newest arrival their attention for the moment.

“If you don’t mind, I was going to take Micro with me.”

More tests perhaps? Micro had never seen this man before—at least not that he remembered. The others waved their acknowledgement though. The man simply glanced at him, but Micro knew what he wanted. Follow. If the others were okay with him, Micro assumed he could be as well and that aside he was quite ready to leave behind all the chattering chaos.

Once again they began to journey down the halls that had become familiar to Micro. It was often hard to tell one section apart from another since they all shared similar designs and layouts. Even imperfections were a challenge to come by with the meticulous care they took in maintenance.

Micro glanced up to check what the man was doing. He seemed one track minded. On a mission. He said nothing, but was passing by numerous rooms that would have had the equipment needed to run any number of tests Micro could think of.

Seeing as he chose not to, Micro grew curious as to what his intentions were, but he kept quiet for reasons he himself was unable to uncover. He should be happy, really. It was rare he had the chance to wander about such a long ways down the halls.

And then they stopped. Micro tilted his head back as he gazed at the towering doors before him. All doors towered above him—humans seemed to range from five to somewhere over six feet tall, he on the other hand, was barely reaching three. The panel of doors were set right in the center of the would-be hallway—no transition, just a sudden block. Judging by all the hairline trails and cracks, Micro presumed this door was able to open a multitude of ways. The real question was, why the need for such a horizontally wide door? No human was that wide, even if they had laid them on their side. His helmet fins twitched apprehensively as the familiar hiss of the door announced its opening.

The doors slid back towards the supporting walls on either side, granting them a large opening directly in the center. The man wasted no time and purposefully strode through. The other side was unpredictably colorful.

Micro stepped inside, hardly aware of the door that nearly scraped against him as it closed. Circles. The wall was covered in circles with smaller circles inside of those circles all conjoined by lines that turned abruptly at ninety degree angles. Another of the walls had squares, then triangles. The only wall that the strange patterns were absent on was the paneling doorway.

His helmet fins shot up as the sound of laughter drifted over from his left. He turned quickly, only to find the back of a large blue sofa blocking his view. His eyes narrowed at the obvious safety hazard. Something was behind it and it likely was not one of the staff members. They had always been visible over things like chairs, desks and beds other than the rare times that they decided to kneel down. There would be no reason for one to do so here though.

“Go ahead.”

Micro nearly jumped when he heard the voice beside him. It was just the man he had entered with, thankfully. Still, he directed a skeptical glance at him. The man did not pick up on the quizzical stare however and simply ventured the opposite way towards a small rounded table in the triangle section.

Obviously the man had no intentions of assisting him with this potential danger. In fact, he had encouraged the confrontation of it. Perhaps it was not as dangerous as Micro had perceived then. After all, laughter had always indicated a human was either happy or uncomfortable with a conversation at hand in his observation. He shifted his manner of movement to mimic that of the humans—walking. In a single fluid movement, the wheel imbedded in his foot pulled back up as he lifted it. The other did the same with the next step.

Micro’s helmet fins gradually drew themselves out of his way to the sides of his head as he approached the curve of the sofa. The laughter had stopped. For a brief moment he wondered what he would do if whatever was on the other side proved to be hostile, but then again he had no idea why he was worried about hostility. The Research Center had always been safe and the staff would never let anything hurt him.

“Oh, hi!”

Micro gasped and jumped back, the back of his foot dragging over the soft carpet that he had not even realized the hard floor had transitioned to. With a yelp of surprise, he tripped, landing roughly on his back. He scrambled to get back up.

There, hanging over the arm rest of the sofa was another zyturri. She looked nothing like Scalar and certainly nothing like his own overlapping layers of black and red. Her helmet fins were short, abrupt little stubs—more like rounded cat ears than his long, narrowed set of four that nearly touched the floor if he sat down.

“I heard you come in!” The pink zyturri giggled and tilted her head to the side.

She let herself slide over the remainder of the armrest, landing in an uncoordinated heap right beside him. Micro stared at the odd girl in return, utterly confused as to what she was doing. Falling over the armrest hardly seemed like something someone would do intentionally, but she was giggling, which usually indicated one was happy.

Eventually she got her limbs under control and stood with the faintest hint of a smirk touching the corner of her mouth. She was a pretty zyturri. Aside from her primarily reddish-pink scheme, her fins were tipped with silver as were a number of other armor segments. Her eyes were a deep shade of green in contrast to the rest, but the feature that stood out to Micro most at the given moment was her height. She was taller than him.

“Hey.” She greeted, and then poked him with a finger. “What’s your name?”

Micro blinked as he tried to observe her finger that was pressed against the pointed trim of his helmet armor that formed a v just over his eyes.

“Huh?”

“Your name.” The girl repeated, finally removing her distracting finger.

“Oh. Uh, Micro.”

“You’re squeaky.”

“Strawberry!” The man called. “Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry.” She giggled then flopped her head to the side and let her helmet fins follow the same carefree angle as she redirected her gaze to Micro. “But you do sound funny.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Micro saw the man roll his eyes and sigh before sitting back down to read from the paper he had picked up from the table.

“Wanna play Tag?”

Another moment of silence passed between the two as Micro stared blankly. Tag? He had not the slightest knowledge of what playing “Tag” involved, but he found himself slowly nodding regardless as he watched the enthusiastic girl bounce around him. “Okay then.”

“Great!” She raced around him again. “You’re It!”

Micro remained standing where he was, watching as the rambunctious girl hopped around. She had retreated the other side of the sofa, clinging to it as she peered around it at him. It? It for what? What did being ‘It’ mean? Curiously he took a step towards her again. She squealed and disappeared around the other side in a fit of hysterical, giggling laughter.

Micro’s helmet fins twitched again. Such odd behavior. He did not understand it in the least. The staff never acted like this, nor did Scalar. The Healer rarely laughed at all other than when Micro told him that he wanted to go play outside or something similar. He had certainly never offered to play this “Tag.”

“Hey! What’s wrong? You said you wanted to play Tag!” Strawberry had circled around behind him now.

She darted away when he turned to face her.

“I…believe we have a failure in—”

“You’re not very good at this game, are you?” Strawberry interrupted as she bounded by him. “Let’s play something else!”

Without warning she leaped at the sofa and pulled herself over the armrest before sliding down off of the cushion. The detour seemed random to Micro, but he did not question her path of getting to a destination.

“Come on! Hurry up. We can build stuff!”

Although not as ecstatic over the idea, Micro walked over to where she had ventured. The carpet gave way to a colorful mat with an almost maze like pattern across its surface—black with a greenish blocky spiral.

Strawberry had an armful of blocks ranging in just about every color Micro could imagine. She had begun stacking them in a two block wide pillar; one colorful block atop another.

“Come on! Help me!”

Micro sat beside her. He picked up one of the blocks and looked it over. It did not appear to be anything amazing and was rather light-weight at that. Eventually he placed it on the growing tower, contributing three blocks total by the time Strawberry was finished.

“You’re slow.” She pointed out. “How come?”

“I….” Micro’s helmet fins dropped in an instant. “I’m sorry.”

All of this was a strange concept to him. He still had no idea why the man had even brought him here to begin with. He had found Strawberry thanks to the man’s encouragement, but had that been the entire purpose of being here?

“It’s okay.” Strawberry shrugged.

Strawberry got up once again and hurried over to a grayish-silver box. She pulled out a smaller box that was torn and bent, walking contently back to her tower. She plopped down and then promptly dumped the box’s contents out. Different plastic shapes scattered over the floor around her.

“We can make it bigger with some of these.” She informed as she collected up some of the triangle and pillar pieces.

Micro tried to offer more assistance in this portion of the building process, soon learning that he had to arrange them strategically so that they would hold the weight of the next layer. The longer he repeated the process, the quicker he was able to replicate it, even with the increasingly growing structure.

“Not bad.” Strawberry announced and then slapped it, giggling as the tower showered down in a structural collapse. “Let’s build another!”

Micro could only stare as the once tall pillar had been reduced to mixed shapes littering the floor.

“Why? If you only intend to knock it down again.”

“Well what else is it good for? Staring? That’s boring.”

She had a point, he supposed, although it still did not make a great deal of sense regardless. Why waste time on something meaningless? Micro stood and walked back around the sofa. The man was still just sitting there. Huh.

“What’re you doing?” The pink and silver zyturri had come to stand beside him. “Do you not like me?”

Micro stared at her in return. Like her? Not like her? None of this had anything to do with her!

“What is the purpose of this room?”

The girl tilted her head and fixed him with a stare that told him it had not been the expected question. She probably thought he was stupid.

“Having fun.” A voice called. “Hanging out.”

Micro turned, but saw no one.

“Over there.” Strawberry nodded her head to the left.

Yet another sofa was turned away from them—the entire room seemed to be set up in four individual sections.

“That’s Smoke.” She whispered. “He’s kind of boring.”

“And you’re kind of crazy.” Smoke had now appeared over the back of the sofa.

His armor was a deep shade of gray that seemed to have smooth transitions and swirls of other shades mixed into the solid color. Even his eyes held the same shade, but it did not make him appear cold or unfriendly, in fact he actually had a hint of a smile.

“Is fun always so pointless?”

“Pointless?” Smoke snickered. “Fun is what you do to get away from all that other stuff.”

So this had been what he had wanted? To come waste time building and knocking down blocks? He had suspected fun would be more interesting than this. But the company of others—that was kind of cool.

Smoke wordlessly turned back around to see the rest of the program he had been watching on TV. Micro followed Strawberry back over to the blocks.

“So when’d you get here?”

“I’ve always lived here.” Micro replied.

“Really?”

“Well…yeah. Why?”

“I’ve just never met someone who has. I’ve only been here for a few months. But I was an orphan. So was he.” She pointed to the sofa across the room where the back of Smoke’s head was still visible. “But he likes to say he just felt like coming here.” She giggled. “It’s much nicer here than out on the streets. You’re lucky.”

Lucky? But that was exactly what he had always hoped for—to see the outside world.

“Maybe. What’s it like out there?”

“Loud. There’s a bazillion people but no one ever wants to stop and talk. They’d rather talk to their phones ’n ’pads. People pay attention in here.”

Sometimes. Micro thought. If it benefits them anyway.

“Smoke makes it out to be some great place. The Burroidbrain.”

Micro blinked. What on Yohyrayi was that?

“A…Burroidbr—”

“Not literally, silly!”

“Oh. Right.” But what was a Burroid anyway? He had never heard of anything like that before. “I…I think I’ll go ask him.”

Strawberry’s helmet fins perked up. “Ew, no, Micro! You’ll catch his stupid.”

Her warning went unheeded though as the small, black armored Hunter was already well on his way towards Smoke.

“Boys!” She huffed. “They’re all Burroidbrains!”

CHAPTER 5! =D Hallo kind chapter, over for a visit so soon? =D Eeeeeeeexcellent.

Alrighty, I would like to comment once again on the start of this chapter. I hope I don't pressure you to keep it up ( I think you have it mostly done already though yes?) but these intros are very unique from one another. The start point, the news thing, the setting. I really like that you don't directly continue from where you left off ion the previous chapter. Granted some questions need to be answered yet like: Was the man that 'let' Micro flee fired?

Wow, my happiness upon starting to read this chapter dissipated in a matter of seconds as I read that Micro realized they wanted to use him to help others, instead of for him. Yes that is selfish, but you know my standing with doctors and people who do that sort of thing already. Then they want him because he wasn't testing anything else already made my mind jump into the future and how miserable it will make the poor guy. =U Gosh, nice job with that. xD No I don't like being....angry at the doctors and stuff, but your description and build up to make me unsuspecting despite my knowledge beforehand was outstanding.

Stupid board approval. =U How about we get some volunteers from the board to have plasma lines? I presume the board consists of humans or they would have refused unless they're heartless dumb turries and IN THAT CASE bloodline volunteers anyone? We have no test subjects. Good idea or no? Why don't you guys tell us huh? How about ALL of you try it out and whoever hasn't DIED or suicided yet gets to be experimented on next. >=(

A simple procedure? Is this lady CRAYZEE? Oh good, even while completely under the influence of love Lakes finds her to be crazy too. Wow the comments flying around the room are totally insensitive. Micro oughta rough a few people up, or maybe talk about the sort of things Wrath did to the wounded and the hostages during his marine years. Even the playing field a little bit. =O New man, wants Micro. WHO EES THEES? Passsing rooms with equipment for all sorts of tests. =U Gosh you describe this stuff so well. =O A colorful shapeful room? A couch? What is this madness? Man better not be giving a false sense fo niceness. I likeyour description of the door BTW. xD Not explaining why it was wide (group of people/turries maybe?) but having it be something Micro noticed and even had a reason why it was odd for him. An excellent touch. =P

Another turrie. =O pink in nature and abrupt leetle stub fins. Nice. xD Falling over the armrest was hardly something someone would do intentionally. xD Perfect, lets teach him how to have fun BEFORE we torture him for the rest of his life. =D That way he can know what he's missing. =) "Sounds good Jim!" "I know, reverse order would make it more tolerable for him BUT MEH sense is not sense right? =D "What?" Exactly you silly kettle you, back to Brad's mind. "KK."

xDD Poking the strange turrie. Strawberry hmmm, I do not recall this turrie. Forgetful mind or sneak new character alert? xD YES Micro agree to things you don't even know. =D That's a perfect description of a child playing tag under those circumstances BTW. =U Rather impressive. Poor Micro. So out of place there in that social situation. =. Slow builder, Bob would be disappointed. Micro does not approve of blocks falling. xD

Alright YOU, see? This is some of the subtle writing mastery that you interject at perfect intervals into the reading experience. Stuff simple, like socializing, building blocks, meeting a friend. I don't know, it's like...relatable and so epically character building at the same time. I know you've said before you find this stuff boring (though I don't know about this part specifically) but I hope you believe me when I tell you it adds a lot to the story. Builds it in great ways and really makes it feel like more than a story. =P

A fun room. =O This concept must be entirely foreign to Micro. ORPHANS? They're stealing orphans now to test on?? They're even more evil than I suspected. @_@ And they're so happy too. =O You did a great job with their personalities so far (They = Smoke and Strawberry). I especially like the comment Strawberry makes about Smoke saying he chose to come to the facility, that says a lot about him...without saying a lot about him. xD Nice touch. DON'T TALK TO THE BURROID BRAIN. Stupid is transferable. xD Yes all boys are burroidbrains. =) All men are too there Strawberry. xDD

AMAZINGNESS. =D This chapter was fantastic I tells ya! New characters, man intrigues me, Micro's fate is decided. You also didn't hover over the impending doom topic too long so I was able to regain happy by the end of the chapter (not that that is needed xD). Many emotions were emitted by the Brad upon reading this and much entertainment was had. Thank you very much for posting and I do thank you for producing such superb work.

It's only taken me two weeks to decide to reply to all this stuff. I feel superior. C|
Ahhhh a good ol Brad comment. Makes up for all the lack of comments I get from everyone else =) ......or don't get....or something XD You don't pressure me into anything when it comes to writing ._. I'm like a different person entirely when I write. People can say whatever they like but it is NOT going to affect what I do in writing XDXD I become the most stubborn individual I know ._. I like the 'unique' intro approach as you call it. Changing it up. Not always continuing right off of another. Adding info that expands upon the information existing around them. Makes things more believable. All that type of stuff.

XDXD man didn't exactly let him free =) Just momentarily lost him C| I'm sure man's job is just fine =U tis not like Micro got out of teh place C| OR KEELED ANYONE. |D

Lololol I am a joykill =) with my depressing stories -u- XD I figured it'd only be accurate to Micro's personality though. I mean later on, he's a very different turrie of course. But when younger, I would imagine just like any other creature he desired to be >,> LOVED >=U and leik important to people as an individual C| Cuz they're like his family after all. I am glad this stuff called description wurks C|

And yus the board is humans XD and your descript of what they should do amuses me XD

Under the influence of love? XDXD what the heck lolololol XDXD Wow XD Sir, your logic. It is amazing XD
Thank you =D about the descriptions. I try c: and yus, it is meant for large groups BTW =] the door I mean.

Yus c| Stub fins. XDXD LOLOLOLOL yus exactly =| about the fun that is.

Strawberry is a new and unimportant character -u- so are a number of others. XD Micro needed people who would speak in his life -u- Lol yay for perfect description XD Lol yus Bob would XD

Yus yus =O I find character relatability to be necessary to the overall plot of things. I'm glad it builds the story. They do bore me by the time they're prepared but that's to be expected XD as long as the outside reader person likes it, all is well -u-

XDXD they don't exactly steal them c| they figure its a sort of act of kindness to bring them in and give them a place to stay while...yus testing stuff on them >,> XD Ah thank you C: I'm glad that their personalities are evident. They may not be important but they do need personalities regardless XD

LOLOLOLO that is something Strawberry will learn in time -u- and no doubt be disappointed. Men and boys are burroidbrains alike C| XD

Ahh this is good yus =] I am glad it has created this status XD of feelings and wurds and stuff =O

I hate this chapter -u- that is all.

Chapter Six



Within a week the date had been set. The timeslot, indefinite. They would be walking into a labyrinth of unknown with this procedure. Success would highly depend upon how fast they could work and what problems they might run into. The only thing in their favor was their knowledge of the Shapeshifter Hunter type since Shapeshifter Hunters were, debatably, a manmade race.

The zyturri body held many similar internal properties to that of a human—at least in a generally broad sense. They had a skeletal system, albeit with additional spindly bones, and a muscular system which seemed to retain a certain elasticity superior to that of humans. Of course there were other oddities, but many of them could be likened to the aquatic properties of marine life. It was with this knowledge they felt confident enough to undertake such a task.

They had placed their most knowledgeable staff on the project—a taskforce of twenty individuals to monitor and assist immediately. It was their hope and intention to finish without needing to rotate through several teams, but in the case their confidence had been misplaced others were on standby.

The new supplemental Bloodlines were waiting in a tub of jell-like substance, preserving them from elements of the air and the Shapeshifter Hunter was already far gone from reality, just a limp little form with wires streaming from all over.

With confirmation of all being present, they began.




Hazy. Blurry. Everything was moving…slow. Slower than his head was turning. At least he thought. Where was he? Who was he? Why was everything so bright? Why was he unable to move?

Micro shut his eyes tightly, once again trying to refocus his thoughts and senses. He should have known who he was at least, but the absence of sound was oddly distracting. Then he realized that sound was not as gone as he had originally thought. No, it was still there; the faintest, yet consistent, beep…beep. Like some kind of soothing rhythm lulling him to sleep.

He could not remember who he was still, but simply that he was tired and warm. He tucked his head down back beneath the mound of thin, white blankets that were layered over the top of him. His mind was in complete ease, not at all concerned with the happenings around him. The rhythmic, gentle sounds soon had him in a light sleep.

The trance was broken by an abrupt noise amongst the beeps. Cool air rushed in—an unwelcomed change to the warmth. Micro struggled to open his eyes—at first one, then both. Once again blurry shapes danced in his vision. He searched for the door, unsure if his head was moving along with his eyes or not. Everything was numb.

He did not find the door, but soon enough focused on the human who had entered. The woman’s outline filled with blurry colors and features wobbled unsteadily before his eyes.

Micro was acutely aware of his own breathing that resounded in his transmitters more than normal. His eyes shut again, taking several seconds to return open. It took additional moments to remember what he had been doing. He heard the woman but her voice was garbled and unclear. She left.

All sense of time had disappeared. His mind was distant; unable to focus on anything in particular. Although he tried to keep his eyes open he soon drifted back to the calm and quiet sleep realm.

Several hours had gone by before he tried opening his eyes again. They remained open this time in a half-mass, dull stare. His head slowly rotated to see what was nearby. Not a lot really. He was in a white room, but then again he always was.

He tried shaking his head but soon found it to have undesirable results. An acute pain stabbed at his neck. He instantly stopped reaching with his left arm to rub at it. His arm was stiff too—far stiffer than he remembered when he had drifted off to sleep.

Once again cancelling that action he instead attuned his attention to other matters. Someone had taped his helmet fins together and secondly the bed he was on was slightly raised so that he was somewhere between sitting and lying.

Micro started to reach up towards the tape when another pang hit the bend of his arm, instantly causing him to stop and wince. Why was he so sore now? Was it from the stuff they had said they were going to do? Had they done it already? He looked for a clock, a calendar, anything to help him get a grasp on time again. Nothing. Micro sighed, pushing back the blanket. Something was not quite right.

Part of his body had been wrapped in a tight, canvas-like material. Quizzically he placed his fingertips on it and let them graze the rough surface. He craned his head gently to the side—it still was mildly unpleasant, but he managed. Another blast of cold air hit him and made him shiver. The door had opened yet again.

“Micro?”

He had expected a human to greet him not another zyturri, but it was Scalar. Micro managed a slight smile in response. His throat was dry and scratchy which generally failed to prompt him to reply verbally.

“Doing okay?”

Micro was neither sure, nor confident how to describe his current condition to Scalar so he settled for silence as he watched the Healer. Scalar was not waiting for a response, but rather had proceeded to removing the tape on Micro’s helmet fins. The sturdy material did not release its grasp easily and the Healer had to brace one hand against the gathered fins in order to get the strip started.

“You’ve been out for awhile, know that?” Scalar set the tape on a small table nearby. “Was wondering when you’d feel like waking up again.”

“Sorry.” Micro squeaked out at last.

“No need.” Scalar was working on the light brown wrap on Micro’s leg now. “Don’t worry,” He added when he noticed the apprehensive stare, “it was supposed to be off a long time ago. We just didn’t want to wake you up.”

Micro watched as the wrap unraveled, revealing several hairline cuts with a primarily bluish tinge. Specks of red dotted it in a few locations, but hardly enough to even be visible at a distance. The area surrounding it and the portion of his body that had not been wrapped in the brown canvas from his neck down was covered by a thin, rubbery, white material.

“What is…”

“Keeps you safe while you heal.” Scalar answered before Micro could even finish his question. “There’s a reason we’ve got all this armor and such ya know.” Scalar shrugged, carrying on his conversation with himself. “Well, no, I suppose you probably didn’t know that. Minimizing the effects of air contact. That’s its purpose I mean.”

Micro still did not have a clue what that meant, but chose not to ask anything more on the matter. Sometimes Scalar could ramble on for a long time and he was not sure his head could take all the information right now.

“Did they…” Micro tapered off as a fit of coughing overtook him.

Scalar was watching something other than Micro. Although the zyturri was not an actual doctor he knew a lot of what they did which likely explained why he was reading the flickering vitals.

Micro got the coughing subdued at last, all helmet fins flopping to the sides in exhaustion. Coughing made everything in his left side hurt.

Scalar said nothing, rather staring off absently and rubbing one finger beneath his chin. Eventually he looked back at Micro with an uncertain smile.

“You’ll have to be careful for awhile. That was a pretty major operation you underwent. You have to give your system a chance to patch itself back up.”




Micro heard that same statement repeated more times than he could count over the following two weeks. It had soon trickled to three, then a month, then two months. He should have been better by now, right? His helmet fins flattened out to the sides as he sat partially sprawled on the floor, listening to the same command yet again.

“Be careful! Your system isn’t fully healed.”

“It’s been month!” Although he tried to squeak out an s sound for ‘months,’ it remained silent.

“So? Something that extensive could take years to fully heal.”

Years? Micro’s helmet fins stuck straight up. Were they going to nag him for years about this? It was not fair! He had friends now. He knew how to play! Now they were not going to let him? Bloodlines were stupid if they caused this much trouble.

Strawberry and Magma both reappeared from behind the sofa at the sound of fading footsteps.

“Are they gone?” Strawberry inquired in a whisper.

Magma, the newest addition to the group of Common Zyturrii scurried ahead of her. “They sure are noisy.”

Strawberry smirked. “It’s their job.”

Micro shook off his displeasure as his friends returned.

“So! If we can’t play Taaaaag…”

“We could race!” Magma suggested.

“I don’t think—”

“Afraid you’ll lose?” Strawberry circled around to stand at Micro’s other side.

“No.” Micro’s helmet fins twitched. “But I do not believe they will approve of it any more than Tag. Maybe we should build block towers again.”

“You hate building block towers.”

“I know…” Micro sighed, turning away from his friends. “I should go back to my room. I’ll see you later.”

“But Micro…”

Micro did not answer nor pause to look back at them. With single minded determination he waited at the door. The Bioengineers had recently developed a sort of communication system that was able to work the same way a zyturri’s silent transmitter calls did. They had been testing it lately, thus he was certain someone would respond.

He could hear his two friends heading off the opposite way now. He hoped he had not hurt their feelings, but could understand if he had. It was not that he lacked the desire to be near them, but rather the fact it seemed they could last hardly two minutes without declaring a new game the humans did not approve of.

He just had to try and listen to the humans. They only wanted the best for him, and how was he supposed to heal if he did not follow what they asked of him? He shook his head to try and reorganize his thoughts. His own thoughts were sounding like a copy of what they had continually told him. Years? Would he really have to do this for years? He was not even sure he was capable of such a thing. Why did they have to try and change who he was?

Sneaky chapter is sneaky! Oh well, not going to complain about that!
You hate this chapter? .0. But hate is such a strong word....surely that's not true? Actually I bet it is. xD We shall see if I agree or not won't we?

OOOooo knowledge. What is this task? Surgery? Modifications? Blood transfusion? No one shall ever know. 0.0 Unless I keep reading, then I might find out. =U Again another very unique intro, very...make wonderment..ing. >_> Wonder inducing. =U There is a decent descript for it. I bet it's something medical though whatever it is. Why do I guess that? I dunno, instinct.

Well whatever is going on seems epic important. .0. 20 people and others on standby, interesting. I like those details, very engaging, world building...important reinforcing and other things. =U

"The new supplemental Bloodlines were waiting in a tub of jell-like substance, preserving them from elements of the air and the Shapeshifter Hunter was already far gone from reality, just a limp little form with wires streaming from all over.

With confirmation of all being present, they began." OH GOSH. I kinda figured it might be this, but I was hoping it wasn't. I didn't want Micro's innocence to end just yet, especially since he might have had a friend. X_X Ohhhh well Doctors will be Doctors and assassins will be...well that isn't relevant at this time. =U

Awakening to a soft beep beep. Life support Micro, you're dying. =U Doctors have managed to have their sick pleasures at your expense, but it's okay right? They're certified and surely their techniques are smiled upon by the general public, humane and morally sound. =) Ahem. >_> Little bit o' hate of my own showing through there. xD

The vision details you have here are really good. =O I can't vouch for accuracy but it sounds heck of good to me!

Micro was acutely aware of his own breathing that resounded in his transmitters more than normal. <--- I like that. =U One can presume he has the bloodlines in him already and if that's the case then it's a great descript of the change already. If not in him already, then a perfect example of his out of it state. Very good no matter the use, of which has not yet been confirmed in story and I don't wish to make assumptions. =) Either way GOOD.

Someone taped his fins together. xDD I dunno I find that to be funny for some reason. Taped together. =U xD I thought for sure they'd have a brace or something...them little finnies can whir their way out of many things. =U Accuracy of last statement: 2%.

SEE nothing for him to see the time either. Buncha evil jerks. =U xDD You reinforce my opinion of doctors a lot...I need to remember it's a story. @_@ But you make it so hard. >=( Hmmm actually sounds like rather durable tape. =U Nevermind about a brace. xD Glad Scalar explained that stuff to Micro, because I wanted it explained too. xD Reduces air contact, got it. Keep the blood fresh...prolly already rottin' but who cares guys? =D Show of hands? =D No one? =D FANTASTIC lets experiment more. =) Show of hands? =D Wow everyone is so eager today....we get PAID for this? Guys it don't get much better. What? More test subjects? Gotta be a downer eh Bob? Well it don't get MUCH better then. =) MOVE OUT.

Scalar you should rebel...nobody ever does when I want them to. =U No butt whoopin' or anything. xD You seem to care a little...why let this go on hmmm? Wow months. @_@ How boring, it must be terrible being in that white room 'healing' for that long. YEARS TO HEAL??? Forget that. D= Someone take him out. =U Not like for food or on a date or something either, end the misery. X_X xDD Drastic Brad is Drastic.

Uh oh. =. Friends causing trouble...didn't think about that. They'd still be good to go if the stupid people hadn't swapped Micro's operating system vitals. Yay I can still blame them. =) Wow. =. Sad...Micro can't play what he wants and he's going to live in solitude. =U Is this really good for a kid? I think the minds of everyone in the establishment need to be evaluated for authenticity of awareness.

Wow what a way to end that, with some major deep thoughts. =U He still seems like a little kid to me (cause, well, he is. xD) so it really...pains me I guess, to see him thinking those sorts of things. He shouldn't be thinking about stuff like that, not provoked by idiots anyway. You really do have a knack for bringing out the reader's emotions here. xD I commend you for this chapter, added a lot and really explained Micro's struggle thus far well. Plus with the intro and stuff you didn't make it boring long about the operation, but still had plenty of description so everyone knows what happened and the severity. You did a great job and I only wish you could appreciate it like I do. o.o

Thanks for posting!

Sneaky chapters gonna sneak =P I do hate =o yus. XD I think it’s because over the time span of a week I never managed to read through it fully one time >,> So I kept getting mangled bits and pieces and it caused rage =o I read unique as vague for some reason. However I shall agree that unique is prolly more of a compliment XDXD I have nothing against the word wondermenting either. XPXP You would be correct with your guessing status =o

Oh good. I’m glad you like those details C| It took me awhile to figure out how many people I needed/wanted there for the general importance it held. =P Oddly enough. XD I wanted it thought out, so I didn’t just grab some random number.

XDXDXD Pooooor Brad. He was hoping. His hopes were in..VAIN. Doctors will be doctors XDXD I like that statement more than I should ._. I should make a picture about it XDXD Like a boss 0.0

Oh noez XDXD Brad doctor hate has struck again =o Life support lolololo. Winnage XP Heck of good is always…good XD I remember writing this chapter back in January initially. I was epic tired when I was writing it XDXD For I was sick XP Brad is pleased =o ten is pleased. Much pleased status be going on C|

TAPED FINNIES =| XD For ultimate lack of protection against potential death by sword head =O XD They need like a more powerful version of those little foam circle things they stick pointy objects through in flower arrangements. That would amuse me actually.

XDXD Brad’s gonna apply all this to real life. I HAVE PROOF DOCTORS ARE EVIL. THERE WAS THIS LITTLE ZYTURRI GUY AND….. XP Durable tape indeed. That or we learn that Scalar suffers from some sort of weak muscle thing =| Lolololo Brad wanted to know too 0u0 well that’s why its there of course. Part of the dialogue is strategically placed description XPXP It’s more fun than blocks o text.

XDXD Your impression of the doctor people. It is lolz. OH BTW =O Come on you have to give them SOME credit. Think of this version in comparison to the last randomly violent version. =P At least here they weren’t being durfaces 0_o …as much XD

Scalar seems to care a little har har xD that statement amused me. And people do too do what you want sometimes Brad =O I recall some YES >=D ‘s in the bunch. Drastic brad is indeed XD What if Micro wanted to go on a date? D: XD
Yes…friends causing troubles indeed. XD THEY SEE NO NEED FOR THIS CALMNESS. XD the minds of everyone need to be evaluated for equal treatment of individuals. That’s; their problem you know. XD They’re more concerned with curing problems for humans at the expense of the zyturrii.

He is a little kid of course =U He just tends to think beyond the little kid realm |D XD BUT MORE ON THAT LATER OF COURSE. Why thank you 0u0 about the emotions thing. You know, that must just be my strong point no matter what I’m dealing with. =. Cuz expression is important to me in drawing. The rest of the picture could be drawn excellently and if the expression doesn’t match up to what I wanted, I won’t like it =U And at the same time, I can draw doodles and if they have expressions that appease me, I’ll like it. I do the same with writing. XD Cept I make sure my chapters aren’t doodles. The point is, I won’t stop working on a chapter until I’ve got the proper feelings I was trying to evoke =P

Yaaaaaay =3 thanks for the comment =O

Just as a heads up you may see some terminology change up--not sure if in this particular chapter or not. That's due to the new changes and such though so YUS.

Chapter Seven



Micro found that he had spent more time with the humans, Scalar and reading books than he ever had in the past couple years. In that time span, according to Scalar all of his friends had grown quite a bit taller. The Healer was less than tactful, and although Micro had made it clear on more than one occasion that height tended to be a sensitive subject Scalar would continue to ramble on about how much the Common Zyturrii had grown. Supposedly Micro’s own short height was a result of the type of Hunter he was, but it did not make it any easier. Perhaps if he had been amongst the company of more Hunters it would have. His mind was undecided on that matter.

For the large majority of the last two years, Micro had kept activity to a very dull minimal. The staff told him that he was being “good.” “Good” meant he participated in next to nothing and mostly sat around reading all day.

Although books had plenty of new information, he often found them boring. He would much rather go see what they spoke of for himself. Some people liked reading; some enjoyed it as a hobby even. His creator, Thomas Lakes, had informed him of this. That was fine for them, but he was not amongst the same opinion.

Regardless, it was no longer a concern now. He had given his system ample time to heal itself and was fairly confident that it should once again be fully operational. Two years had been an incredible length of time to wait and carry on with such a dull consistency to life, but hopefully it had paid off.

Today, many of the scientists and other faculty were off work, leaving progress within the facility rather quiet and calm. He could still hear a few distant murmurs on occasion, but it was a far cry from the usual sharp clashes of voices and machinery alike.

Micro carried on down the hall. Now that he was older and presumably more mature, he had a fair amount of freedom to roam from room to room as long as he was within hearing range of the humans. Seven was still plenty young for a zyturri, but they had always said he acted far older than his biological age.

Micro paused at the end of the hall and turned around to stare at it. He blinked several times. Lights had been hurting his eyes lately almost as if it were a strain. He squinted against the brightness, trying to bring the smudge of light into focus. The hall swayed before his eyes as if it were made of a gelatin mass. His head began to sway with it as the sensation of imbalance gripped his limbs.

Maybe Scalar had been right. Maybe he did have some sort of allergy to something he was exposed to. The Healer had always mentioned they could really mess up one’s senses. Quite frequently now days his senses seemed messed up, as Scalar had worded it. Perhaps he would voice his concern to one of the humans at some point in the future.

For now though…he kicked off of the wall and let himself glide leisurely down the hall. With a few more strides he reached the other end. No bad results there. He tried again. He still felt fine—perhaps that indicated he was fully healed. With a tad more confidence in his success he continued. Back and forth, back and forth. Really, rolling did not take much effort anyway so he doubted the staff would have considered his current pace to be strenuous.

Micro passed through the hall yet another time. He had lost count by now. Occasionally he would pause to look inside one of the open rooms along the way, but none ever held anything interesting. Outside would have been much more exciting. His favorite books—if he had been forced to choose them—were the ones about the adventures of people in places like forests and deserts. Even the city was fascinating.

Things were different out there. People came across unexpected treasures and more importantly the environment changed. They did not have a set temperature control that never allowed a difference of more than a few degrees. They had things like weather that changed of its own accord—no human told it what to do and so it was a surprise. Sometimes the people in the stories liked it, other times they did not.

Micro yelped as he collided with a door. He stumbled back unsteadily and with one misplaced step found himself sitting on the floor. His helmet fins braced against his head as he waited for the ringing in his transmitters to stop.

Rubbing his nose gingerly the small Hunter gazed up once more, blinking the doubles away from his vision. He glared at the offending door. If he had not been so certain that nothing ever changed here he would have accused the frame of moving. Actually he wanted to regardless, but he knew it was illogical.

“Micro? Are you okay?”

The patter of feet down the hall announced someone had heard him. Micro picked himself up and gave the door one last glare before turning away with care to find the concerned human. Humans were easy to locate given the level of noise they produced when in motion. When he rounded the corner of the hall he spotted the man who was currently staring up at the ceiling as he walked.

Did the man honestly think he hung from the ceiling like some kind of…

Micro searched for the word his friends had used when speaking of the metal, spiderlike, mechanical creatures that were the main invading enemy of one of their favorite movies. Zyderoids. Did the human think he was related to a Zyderoid? Climbing on the ceiling in such a manner? He was small, yes, but not that small.

At last the man trained his gaze in a logical direction and hastily indicated he had found Micro. Micro already knew the question he would ask, so he took the liberty of dismissing the man’s worries before they were voiced for a second time.

“I’m fine. I just missed the door.”

“Missed the door?” The man chuckled. “Seriously?”

“It was…not particularly intentional.”

“I’m sure.” The man’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned, no doubt back to his work.

Micro headed back down the hall again, passing another human as he did—Christina Kinney. She happened to be the easiest of the humans for him to tell apart by her nonstop grumbling. If any of the humans had needed a break, he suspected it was her and it was not because she worked harder than any of the others. She was simply always in an undesirable mood.

From what Micro had gathered, breaks were supposed to be an enjoyable time of which one returned afterwards feeling refreshed. It was to promote good mental health and better sufficiency in work. If Kinney had ever been the recipient of one of these breaks she most certainly did not show it.

Once she was out of eyesight, Micro absent mindedly glided down the hall and trailed through the joining halls that seemed to branch off every way imaginable. He had no official destination in the pointless wander, but what else was one to do?

Thoughts still wandering, he followed the twists and turns with an almost memorized sense of accuracy even though he was certain he had not been down this way before. Normally the door he had gone through to get to the area was closed off. Whenever he asked if he could go through it they had always rejected the request.

So although why it was open now was something akin to a mystery, Micro had taken full advantage of the opportunity. His gaze was set straight ahead; there was no point glancing to either side when all the adjacent doors were closed off.

A throb began to emit from somewhere deep in his head. What was that? He did not recall having that present before, but then again he had just slammed his face into a door frame. He shook his head and dismissed it.

Micro slowed to a stop as he reached a closed door. He gazed up. The usual bright lights that marked all halls were present, but told him nothing about his current location. Where would his friends be if they were still here at all? It was hard to imagine they would still be in the old playroom he had used to meet them in. They were older now—beyond such baby games. Perhaps he could ask someone. As long as he did not ask them while they were working they should not mind it.

He began to backtrack through the hall until he passed by a human dressed in regular business attire. The man was not one he recognized, so he decided it best not to ask. Maybe Lakes was stationed somewhere today. The man had always welcomed him. Regrettably Micro had barely seen him as of late. Hopefully he had not done anything to upset the man.

Micro glanced in every open room on his way down the hall until he came to the presumable end. His helmet fins twitched as he gazed at the large, open space. Simulations of geography appeared as holographic images on the walls and were suspended in air by the projections of strangely shaped objects rising from the floor. There was some kind of rounded office in the center of the room and then a spiraling staircase. Perhaps the one that led to the ground level.

Micro circled the room a few times, rolling along casually and glancing at the different research sets that sat on display. The complexity was far beyond his comprehension but it did not stop him from finding it interesting to stare at.

After he had circled the giant room a few times his curiosity turned towards the staircase. Perhaps he could see the outside world from there or even go out in it for a few moments. No one would mind that, right? He hoped not.

The black and red armored Hunter paused at the bottom of the white staircase. His rollers would not assist him much here. Tucking them safely away he took his first step, then second, and third. He paused. No one seemed to be minding yet.

He proceeded at a steady rate. It felt strange to plod about in such an uncoordinated manner, lifting his feet up and then flopping them down yet again; nothing at all like the sensation of smoothly gliding. He paused again after he had rounded the first half of the spiral.

His mouth curled upward at the corner. So this was what it must have felt like to be tall. After a few moments he began working his way up the next set, quicker this time. The pounding in his head had returned, but he ignored it. Whatever it was it could wait. He was on an adventure right now.

At last he made it to the top; the steady thump of his heart kept pace with his rapid breathing. With fumbling steps he grabbed hold of the railing and peered over the side at the spiraling staircase now beneath him and the vague glow of things from below. It was easier on his eyes from this distance and he thought he could make out a few color details about it even.

He could stare at that later, for now he wanted to see if he could find the main entrance the humans came through. The young zyturri had not previously noticed how uneven and ragged his breathing had become after his venture up the stairway until now. The further he trailed along the newest hall, the harder he found it to focus. At first, the hall began to twist in a lopsided manner before his eyes. His footing faltered. The hall around him turned to a fuzzy haze and he found himself tottering forward, scarcely aware of what his legs were doing.

A sharp pain struck at his neck.

Micro lost his footing and stumbled. Another pain erupted somewhere in his chest. He coughed. The pain began to spread down his arm and left leg. Pressure continued to build at his neck. Sound vanished beneath a radiating pulse that only increased in intensity. A crimson red liquid began trickling near the rim of his eye. Micro covered it with one hand and then held it away, inspecting the red tinged substance that had stained his white glove.

He yelped. Another pain struck his neck. A warm, coppery tang filled his throat and made him gag. He struggled to make his limbs work long enough to lean forward, clawing at his throat with one hand. The metal plates of his armor rotated, piercing the outer layer and peeling it down.

The wound began to gush with blood, but eased some of the pressure. Micro’s head struck something hard, dizzying him for a moment. When his eyes opened a second time he saw blood. Blood on his arm. Blood on his hand. He was certain it was along the side of his face as well which was now against the floor. He tried to call for help, unsure if he was even making a sound. He felt the blood gurgle in his throat and gasped. Struggling to get his arms back underneath himself he lifted his upper half, coughing and sputtering up more blood.

Pain surged through his entire body. Clutching his side with one hand he held himself partially prone with a shaking arm. At last he saw someone in his vision. The blurry form of a Healer. Scalar. Micro’s helmet fins pulled tight against his head as another pang stabbed at his body.

“You…you have to make it stop.” Micro coughed, hand slipping in the blood pooled beneath him. “Make it stop!” He wound himself into a tight ball. “Why won’t you make it stop..?” He coughed again, weaker, and then cringed. “Make it stop.” Tears mixed with blood. “Stop…stop…stop!”

New terminology and stuff eh? =. Coolio and okee, thanks for the heads up. Chapter 7 chapter 7. Second chapter in 2 weeks. @_@ xD This is exciting, with chapter six still fresh in my mind who knows what mental wonders will occur.

Past couple years? @_@ Wow, such a timje lapse. xDD What a great intro too though, very subtle but really packs a punch too. I like that. =P Scalar is a jerk about height. xDD Micro everyone else is growing. =O Poor Micro. xD Amusing. Being 'good' for two years. =U I mean especially for a kid. =U Dumb humans.

Now that he was older and presumably more mature <--- I like the presumably. xD Come on Micro, be rebellious. =O Ahhh I forgot about his night vision. @_@ xDD So it's taken this long to start having an effect? Rolling along. =O I really like this part too, like slow progress toward moving, moving toward freedom. I can feel his excitement growing. 0.0 Surprise weather. xD You speaking of his observations is very....accurate and engaging. Really a look at the way his mind works, very nice job with that. It adds a lot to his character. =.
Loud Man is staring at the ceiling? o.0 xDD GOOD Micro finds it weird too. Ah lil Mikey your word choice is still good. =. At least when you age you don't choose words worse, or something to that effect. What am I going on about anyway? X_X In short I like his word choices gosh. xD
Christina the Grumpy Human (Written and illustrated by Mega10). =U Thomas you should drop all projects and try to cheer your future wife up. =) maybe freeing Micro would make her happy? =. DID YOU EVEN TRY?! >=(
If Kinney had ever been the recipient of one of these breaks she most certainly did not show it. <---- YES. Ha ha ha. xDD Niiiice.
Open doors. =. Yay some new identical hallways to explore. Perhaps he'll find some horrific experiments at the end or something. o.o A throb. =O Door could be a cause I suppose yes. >_> (Totally overlooked that possibility) though I don't expect that to be the true cause. =.

=O The playroom. Wow, wasn't expecting that. If Micro is still 7 though, would the others not be of a similar age? Maybe still playful, Micro. =. Wow, what an expert and fascinating description of the hologram/research room. =O Also this sentence is absolute win; "The complexity was far beyond his comprehension but it did not stop him from finding it interesting to stare at."...amazing. =P
YAY he's going for the stairs. xD I was hoping he would, though I would guess he'd get in trouble for it. =U Walking description win. =O You know, I feel really bad for him. xD The small comments like this is what i'd be like being tall....really, I dunno, helps a reader to understand. .0.

Hmmm what is wrong with him. Poor guy, finally on an adventure, finally nearing a destination he's dreamed of for years. =U Yep, the stupid bloodlines. Hope you humans are happy. Poor guy. =\

Dang what a way to end that. @_@ Someone as calm as Micro, asking for Scalar to make it stop. ._. I think you did an outstanding job setting this up, like his adventure with the start of the throb, then the long staircase sequence ending in the hall with him like that. You don't have details for how Scalar is reacting either, so the spotlight is entirely on Micro. =U You already knew that though, I just wanted to compliment it. Amazing job, I know I've said it before about your writing but it still is true here. Powerful, veeeery powerful stuff. =. Excellent job, you. =U

ALL the new terminology .0. Lol multiple chapters close together, then nothing for super long time =| Mental wonders~

Yus! It was time for a time lapse =| Yay for intro! I am glad you approoooove. Ohhh Scalar -w- is just unobservant to how upsetting it is =o Hardcore being good stats.

OH YUS very presumably XP

Why thank you =O I try and think through these chapters ._. but sometimes it doesn't always sound good in my head and I wonder if it does for other people. Yus Loud Man is very intelligent -w- XD Looooool yus let us concern ourselves with Micro's vocabulary =D

...I would so make that book. I WOULD ._. she'd have all the faces of rage comics too. Freeing Micro yus XDXDXD

Haha! Yay for overlooking .0.


Micro thinks ALL will be zero percent playful =| XD Ooooh a sentence that got amazing stats =D

Reader understandingment is always good =o

I liked the way I ended this chapter pretty good =o so I am glad you agree 0w0 XD

And thank you! This is quite the epic comment =O Sorry it took me forever to reply to XD