"Satsuna Yoshihiro." The man placed a hand upon Yoshihiro's chest, forcing him to a stop uncomfortably. "You live, how surprising." The man's head spun to the left, looking him over in an odd way. Yoshihiro took a step back, utterly confused. "Who?-" "I'll be asking the questions, Yoshihiro-kun." The man spoke with a flick of his tongue, a voice of acid, and an aura of uncanniness about him. Yoshihiro was put off by the man's flawless switch from an English accent to a Japanese one, and the honorific suggested friendliness or family, serving only to force Yoshihiro to feel in danger. Yoshihiro did not speak Japanese, but was quite familiar with the culture, and knew one or two words. The man began to speak Japanese fluently, without even pausing to think, unfortunately, Yoshihiro could only make out one or two words of it. The man finished, gesturing to Yoshihiro to respond, he sputtered and sweated, knowing now from the man's growing grin that this wouldn't end well. "I, uh, don't speak Japan-" "I know." The man's head was over Yoshihiro's shoulder before he could even move, the hustling steps and whistles of the city seemed to grow silent. Yoshihiro's mouth grew dry, his tongue a mess of needle-like pain, he didn't even feel himself hit the ground. [hr] "It's too dark... rocks... hit one... prisoner?" Yoshihiro heard a mumbled voice from somewhere he couldn't see, in fact, he couldn't see anything, it was very dark, all he could feel was a cold steel on his wrists. [i]Okay, well, this sucks, but, maybe...[/i] Yoshihiro struggled against his restraints. He felt his bent legs touch something hard behind them, pushing himself to a stand was not possible, as his cuffs were wrapped around what he assumed to be a pole behind him, only one way to find out for sure. Yoshihiro hardened his skull, throwing it forwards and back violently. *CLUNK* Yoshihiro's head smashed into the bar, bending it back slightly and giving him one hell of a bump, but he didn't worry about that, instead he fell still, his eyes widening as the near-hollow clunking echoed through the room, if it was a room. Yoshihiro sat deathly still, waiting for the sound of an opening door and the grasp of a firm hand upon his head. Another minute passed, and then another, with nothing. Yoshihiro sighed thankfully, his brain finally getting to work. He was in some kind of cell, he hated being in cells, the last time was during training, when they had been instructed on what to do in this situation, ironically, Yoshihiro had managed to forget this important tidbit. Well, he knew now that he had been a victim of some kind of tranquilizer, presumably from that weird guy, judging from his situation, he assumed that it was probably the UN forces that had taken him prisoner, though where in the city he was he did not know. "Prisoner's fine, we need not... trailer's secure... reach rebel base in few hours... should be an easy breach and clear, from what the sleeper tells us, there's very few with working weapons." That very British gentleman had given Yoshihiro all he needed to know. There was nothing he could do for his comrades, all he could hope for was to leave alive and maybe rile up some dissidents. But first... Yoshihiro groaned as his right hand twisted, the bone sliding out of place to a loud clack. Manipulating it's shape, Yoshihiro pushed it out of his hand painfully, warm blood beginning to stain his palm from the large hole forced out of the way by his newly knifinated carpal bone. Gripping the sharp bone to the point where it began to cut into what remained of his hand, Yoshihiro got to work on the weak point of the bar, caused by his head. Sawing away, afraid of every noise, Yoshihiro felt like his arm was just doing it's own thing, the rest of his body felt, while the working bit went numb, and all he could do was saw, the noise of bloody bone scraping against slowly manipulated metal became all he knew for the many hours it took to saw through the surprisingly thick bar. As he sawed, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and he saw, across the room from him, was another bench much like the one he currently sat upon, the white room a lavender shade in the dark. Yoshihiro's arm ached brutally, and the bone went dull. Groaning at a whisper, he swiftly pushed his regenerated carpal bone out of the hole in his hand, it slid out of his hand, popping out of the wet wound, and cluttering to the floor. [i]Son of a bitch.[/i] This might take a while... [hr] Another few hours of cutting and dropping knives, and there was a gap big enough to slide his cuffs through, he was incredibly tired, and he thought he may have spent a day or two doing nothing but saw at the pole. Finally standing, Yoshihiro felt his tired eyes burning in the dark, his legs cramping horribly. His arm was sticky with blood, though he'd managed to forge a makeshift bandage out of his sleeve. His handcuffs continued to dig into his wrists. Looking at the walls, he managed to notice a crease, meaning that the door was there, it would open outwards, meaning that as soon as he heard it unlocking, he would have to act fast, push it open, and... bite someone's throat out or something, he could force his jaw inwards to increase the length of his teeth, though that would hurt like hell. Sitting down, Yoshihiro groaned as the bones in his arms began to increase in length, tearing at the skin painfully. Hopping slightly, he moved his hands under his center of mass, lifting his legs to allow them to his front. At least now he could use the knives as worthwhile weapons. His bones returned to natural size, but the tears at his skin remained, it didn't matter, they weren't bleeding that much, he'd be okay. Kneeling down to grab the sharpest discarded knife, he heard a metallic crackling coming from the creased wall. [i]Shit[/i]. Yoshihiro trucked to the opening door, throwing himself through nearly horizontal. He had to kill, the realization forced him to sweat and shake, but more than that, he was filled with a great urge to push his teeth through each other. The light forced his eyes to tears, but he felt his body collide with something as he rolled across the Mars dust. Rolling through to his feet, he noticed a man in armor laying where he had just rolled, his pistol laying at his side. Looking at the downed man was another with an assault rifle. His cuffed hands went horizontally to his head, then curved inwards, sending the blade spinning through the air, the armored man didn't have time to shoot his now-level gun as the bone knife squelched through his eye, his mouth opened wide as he fell bloodily to the ground. A horribly stinging pain went through his chest, a bang ringing through the air. Looking in the direction that it had come from, he noticed that the soldier had managed to grab his gun, how unfortunate. Yoshihiro fell to the ground, colliding limply with the Martian dirt, his eyes closed. Well, what a death that would have been, judging by his ability to still breathe, and the low amount of blood leaving his body, the bullet had missed his lungs, his mouth tasted relatively iron-free, so his trachea was fine as well, he'd been hurt, but it was a million-dollar wound, like Teddy Roosevelt, or Jason Gerrick. He'd just play possum for now. He heard the man climb to his feet and stomp heavily over. "Spade Five to command, prisoner neutralized." Yoshihiro noted that the man sounded like a teenager, but when he saw him earlier, he looked more like a middle aged man, glasses, good-ish shape, lines forming on the face. "What the hell happened?" He heard a distorted voice from the same spot, from a radio he assumed. "Spade Four is down too, Spade Three and One are still in the rover, Spade Two still AWOL." "Did the prisoner escape?" "Somehow." "Son of a bitch, okay, see if Four is revivable, then return to course." "Roger that." The man thumped over to his fallen colleague, allowing Yoshihiro to finally open his eyes. Quietly, Yoshihiro rolled into a prone position. The man was kneeling over his colleague, black kevlar resting over a blue jumpsuit. Crouching, Yoshihiro sneaked behind the man, begging to some god he didn't believe in that he wouldn't be heard. His arm twisted, and a blade of bone exited his left palm bloodily, hanging unheld from the palm, sighing mournfully, Yoshihiro shouted and slashed the blade across the back of the man's neck, forcing the man's head back, gripping under the man's chin, Yoshihiro pushed the blade deep into the man's throat, exiting from the other side brutally. When Yoshihiro next opened his eyes he was alone in the Martian desert, and the men's corpses were nowhere to be seen.