[sub][right]Addressing: [@Raylah], [@Crusader Lord], [@Irredeemable], [@SgtEasy], [@Sigma][/right][/sub]

It's dark, and not only because of the late hour. It's because he turned the lights down. Certain things just [i]need [/i]to be done in the dark.

The man takes a long drink of pitch-black tea, another mood-appropriate prop, before he places the cup down on someone else's desk. He's waited days for her to fall asleep. Abadi. A puppet, sacrificing her youth and her sanity for a system that will never love her back. But there's no point in trying to tell her. There are more important things to share this evening.

He turns on her terminal, listening to it groan and whine like a personal computer from the 20th century. Like the hardware itself is tired. Every one is waiting for this to be over. Days spent without sleep, trying to put out diplomatic fires, just for something else to burst into flame right as you extinguish the last. The terminal prompts him, and he keys in the password she once shared with him, before all this started.

[hider=Message to the Undefeated]

[i]You claim to be our ally. To the government, or to the people?

They are not the same.

Soon, you'll have to choose.

Choose wisely,
	A Flower.[/i]
[/hider]

He hits "Send," hoping and praying that his half-understood encryption measures will work. This man is no technical expert; far, far from it. But the terminal tells him the message went through anyway. Good. It's important that the nations realize that there are real people behind this. New Hollywood is not a battleground, it is not a political experiment. It is his home. He lives there, he dreams of there. He will risk capture and trial to send this message.

[hider= Message to the Khanate]
[i]
Your soldiers make our homes their stomping grounds, on behalf of the Khan, payed by the Oligarchs.

But people live there. Lives are stomped under your feet.

We remember them all,
	A Flower.
[/i]
[/hider]

His hands shake. He feels exposed. To threaten a government isn't a small thing; suddenly, his body is frail and unprotected. He looks to the glass door, like soldiers could come breaking in any moment to take him prisoner. Could anyone save him?

Snap out of it. He drinks more tea, closing his eyes just a moment. His fingers press "Send" before he's opened them again.

[hider=Message to the Columbians]
[i]Thank you.

We won't forget it. We'll find a way to pay you back.

I promise,
	A Flower That Grows Where Nations Meet.[/i]
[/hider]

The Meeting Place rotates just a little bit, always in orbit, so that Earth can be seen. Dead and gray. Is this what humanity always does? We only kill each other. That's what a human is. A machine that kills things.

Stop, stop, stop. That's not true. We were made for something better; each person feels it in their hearts. That's what the conscience is, the sense of right and wrong. It's your spirit telling you, "You're meant to be more than this."

[hider=Message to the Zetans]

[i]New Hollywoodites let the war happen. Each one of us is responsible for that.

I don't expect your forgiveness.

But it was wrong,
	A Flower.[/i]
[/hider]

He still remembers his face. The face of the boy he saw the protectors kill on the pavement. They said it was an accident, that the kid fought back and might have had a weapon and probably had it coming and was on drugs and so on and so forth.

But he knows what he saw. It was a murder.

[hider=Message to the Xandalians]
[i]
Some say you're for us, some aren't so sure.

Come out the shadows. Fight openly for what your heart knows is right.

And one day,

We'll pay you back,
	A Flower That Grows Where Nations Meet.
[/i]
[/hider]

Focus, focus, focus. Three days without sleep, and you can't control for a second where your mind wanders off to. It takes you back to who you really are. 

There's one last people to contact. The killer's best friends.

[hider=Message to the Matuvistans]
[i]How long? How many more?

You spill blood for a government that will not be here in a month.

When they're gone, we'll remember who are enemies were.

The clock ticks, see the writing on the wall,
	A Flower.[/i]
[/hider]

[center]
[hr]
[b]~~~~~~~~[/b]
[hr]

[h3]Collab between Tortoise and [@TimeMaster][/h3]
[/center]

(Previously the main One force agreed with the plan they came up with and made long apologies to Kayla for hiding the nature of the meat, but they were sure she would understand.)

They are a group, but they move and flow as a single life. It’s one body that dodges through the streets of New Beijing. Ten members. They all know where the others will be. Without talking, only relying on their shared memories, they understand one another.

Kayla emerges from a long-abandoned alleyway, and finds five James and a William waiting for her. She knew they would be there. They took the faster, riskier path, and she- being the most valuable member of the team- took the slower and safer one. Three Grants walk out from behind her, into the bright streetlights.

“The team’s all here.” She points up to a dense, squat building. Chain-link, electric fencing. It’s a power plant, but you’d think it was a fort. “That's our target. You remember the tour I had, five years ago?”

The One split up, a few squadrons of Williams and James moved throughout the city meeting with White Flower leaders, explaining who they are and that they were there to help. Some didn’t accept the One at first and some were wildly surprised by the nature of them but in the end they all agreed that the One was there to help during the revolution, afterwards...things would be different.

The group following Kayla was armed to the teeth with bone armor, spears, bows and small swords. In addition, the James also made use of the debris from the spaceport to make a few very durable spears in compassion to their bone weaponry. The Grants followed Kayla as One being, no small-talk, no signs, no sounds. 

As Kayla talked, one of the Grants stepped forward.  

“[color=gold] You already know the answer to that. The fence is electrified, the corridors are long and tightly packed. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be caught in them. [/color]” answered the Grant. 

"About the fence-" she hesitated. "The power in New Beijing has been running full-blast, non-stop. For a long time now. Weeks, months? Yeah. And there were a lot of power-outages even before then. So I was thinking..." she took a deep breath. "I was thinking that the fence might short out, you know, if it suddenly had to release a lot of energy. Like. Like if someone were electrocuted."

She looked over to the William. She didn't like this.

“[color=gold] We actually were thinking of the same plan. Think about what the screams were in the ship when we passed through the Gateway. You don’t need to worry about us. We are One! [/color]” said the Grant in a calm, shushed voice then at the end, all the others instinctively banged their chests with their fists. 

Behind the false bravado, the One were having similar feelings about it. Kayla’s influence paled in comparison to the original One mind but still made them doubt themselves at times. Changes would surely appear in the One society after the revolution but for now, those thoughts and feelings would be pushed aside.  

The William walked forward, bravely and with a small bow to the others ran straight into the fence hugging it tightly as the electricity coursed through their body. No scream, no shout. Just a small grunt of pain. Kayla winced. But the fence did stop humming- it was out. One by one, they jumped it.

When Kayla's feet hit the pavement on the other side, she felt like she'd just landed on foreign territory. This titan of a power plant was on the very outskirts of the city, placed right before a slow drop-off into wasteland, and was one of the few places of officialdom the White Flowers hadn't yet rested control from. There were still ECU guards here: but they were the same ones that had stood guard when the city fell, and couldn't be able to hold out much longer. How long will it be before, for want of food, they decide to give themselves up?

Kayla doesn't pray. But if she did, she would pray that they're all still alive to make that decision.

A James kicks the door down, and they slide into the smooth lighting of the Ai Zhang Memorial Plant. "The psychological warfare isn't hitting here," Kayla said, aloud. She ran her fingers along a sign on the wall that read (in English, Chinese and Latin) [b]FISSION CORE THIS WAY ---->[/b]

"It's, like, three AM,” she says. “Maybe we can slip by the guards?"

But they couldn't, because right as the last word left her mouth, a protector in gold uniform came strolling around the corner.

Without a word, the One moved to the side, hiding in the shadows. As the protector approached their “hiding” place, one James stepped out. 

The protector stopped in his tracks and said “You there, stop! Identify yourself!”

The James lifted his arms up in a peaceful gesture and stopped, as the protector was approaching them, gun held high.

“[color=gold] Hey there! No need for that. I just came back from the city. Those revolutionaries got help from scum-extraterrestrials. Bastards thinking they can take our city! [/color]” said the James mimicking to the best of Kayla’s memories of how the ECU talked.

For a moment, as the ECU protector approached he lowered the weapon. He got into arm’s reach of the James when a Grant stepped out from the shadows. The protector’s weapon flew straight away towards the Grant and that’s when the James made his move.

He lunged at the protector, hitting him square in the solar plexus instantly stopping the protector in his tracks as he tried to breathe. Another James stepped out and quickly wrapped his arms around the neck of the protector, putting him in a rear naked choke and held on tight to him as he slowly fell asleep. 

Quickly they proceeded into stripping the protector, taking his weapon/clothes, equipping a Grant with them and then afterwards, sent one James with him back towards the One lines.

“[color=gold] That could’ve been worse. We got lucky that the protector believed our ruse for long enough. Now, we’ve got an undercover scout. [/color]” said the leading Grant.

Kayla had felt funny, watching the protector fall. The sick sounds he made when the James choked him out. She thought of herself as an empathetic person, she didn’t want him to be hurt, but then-

But then, she’d always hated them.

She hardens her heart. And after that, watching him be stripped didn’t bother her too much; Kayla had only ever been into women anyway. (And that’s canon now.)

The group proceeds in a straight line, right to where they all remember the reactor being. The tour Kayla had of this place was years ago, and felt more like ages, but the lay-out hadn’t changed. Only this time, it looked like the lab of a mad scientist; the trash littering the floor and the little scraps of food huddled into corners. 

The guards and engineers have been stuck inside this building since the Flowers took over. Absolutely terrified of leaving the building and facing the mobs outside. Trapped, probably half-starving; looks like cleanliness standards go out the window after a while. She wonders where they’re all sleeping.

The reactor itself isn’t visible, being behind a protective wall of Bezian metal. Kayla remembers them lowering that for her visit, but it took a passcode entered into the computer terminal to do it.

“Guys,” Kayla says, realizing it as she does, “we’re going to need to kidnap a scientist.”

As the group followed Kayla, they were trying to pierce together all her memories of the place. Checking them again and again for all the small things that she might’ve missed or overlooked.

Seeing the state of the reactor’s room hardened the One. They remembered how it felt. The loneliness, the fear of not waking up tomorrow, the lack of food. Soon they would’ve turned on each other, soon they would’ve eaten each other. Eventually only one would remain if he or she would’ve been smart enough. But they weren’t on an alien planet, they weren’t trapped forever...all they had to do was to go out and all would’ve stopped. Remembering how the protectors were trained, they knew they wouldn’t have surrendered but to choose to torment yourself when you’ve got a choice? That was something the One wouldn’t accept. Something that simply wouldn’t stand with them. 

“[color=gold] We know. We can’t break into it and even if we could, we will not be able to do so without alarming the whole facility. We’ve got an idea, pretty sure you’ve thought about it as well. [/color]” said one of the Grants. Looking around, they visualized the whole area based on Kayla’s memories. Each door, each window, each nook and cranny.

The James took to the corridors, each armed with a spear, sword and a shield. Checking room by room like a well oiled machine, they eventually found what they were looking for. 

The mess hall, now made as a sleeping area. Protectors, the staff and everyone else was there. Some huddled on the floor, sleeping on broken tables, others playing cards as if they had no care in the world. They’ve all had the same look in their eyes, a look which the One understood very well. Desperation. Starvation. 

One of the James went back to the main group and called them to the mess hall. 

“[color=gold] We’re going to leave the decision to you, Kayla. Do you wish to murder them all and save one person or should we show mercy? In the state they are, we can take them easily. [/color]” said the One closest to Kayla.

Kayla nodded. “Take them. I- I don’t want to be a murderer.”

“[color=gold] We all know that you feel like one already. You’ve been in our mind, we’ve been in yours. You understand [b]why[/b] we are keen to kill them all. They don’t deserve living anymore than we deserved starving for hundreds of years but alright, we’ll follow your lead.[/color]” said the closest James, their voice full of anger.

The other Ones looked towards them and shook their heads. The One was vengeful, the One refused to believe that one cannot find ways out of bad situations. They’ve done so from the beginning of their life and until now. Maybe it was Kayla’s influence or maybe the One found a way to forgive and to understand that not everyone can survive, but they’ve decided to let them live as per Kayla’s wishes.

The Grants carried in their backpacks some provisions and handed the backpacks to the Jamess. The James , who was dressed up in the protector’s clothes, went inside the mess hall. Almost instantly, the protectors were onto them. Guns held high towards them with the same desperate look. They knew death came without realizing it. 

“[color=gold] Easy there, easy. Put the guns down. W--I’ve found some friends. [/color]”

“Identify yourself at once!” said one of the protectors, gun aimed towards the James’s midsection. 

“[color=gold] It doesn’t matter who I am but what matters is what I bring. Look![/color]” said as he threw a backpack on the floor, as it hit the floor, some meat fell out. 

Instantly, the desperation in the protector’s eyes turned to madness. A food-deprived madness. Two of the protectors threw their weapons on the floor and half-ran half-sprinted towards the food, pushing each other away from the backpack.

“[color=gold] There, there. No need to fight. We’ve got more food. Just put the weapons down and we’ll give you all the food you can eat. [/color]” said the James with a charming smile on their face.

At this, the other protectors put their weapons down and soon the civilians approached as well. The One stepped from the corridors and into the mess hall, calmly taking the discarded weapons of the protectors and with trained efficiency, pointed them at the protectors. 

The lead Grant stepped forward and looked behind them where Kayla stood, calling out to her.

“[color=gold] Please, set forward. See the mighty protectors, the ones which we so much feared. Anyways, you should talk with your people, Ambassador. They’re docile enough. [/color]”.

It was strange, seeing the protectors- the hostile, lurking force she'd feared her entire life- so contained. The only other time they'd been so pliable was after psyche-programming. Like a lion in a cage.

But they weren't those who would know the passcodes. She'd need to find the administrator, the one whose rank is indicated by- there he is. With the red stripe across his lab coat. Kayla led him by the arm into a small side-room, probably meant to be a janitorial closet, and let the One guard the rest. She figures he wouldn't be super willing to talk with a horde of identical men staring him down.

She brought a gun with her.

"Tell me the passcode," she whispered to him, as soon as they were alone. "I won't hurt you. We just need to know how to shut this place down."

The administrator was an aging, bearded man, wildly-haired, like a descendant of Einstein and Freud. His white hair trembled when he shook his head. "No, madam, I cannot do that. I will not."

"Why?"

He only shook his head again. "No."

"But the ECU doesn't do anything good. For you scientists, I mean. Why are you loyal?"

"Because it is what I have always been, madam. I'm too old to change, and-" here he lifted his sunken, hungry eyes, and there was a glimpse of life in them, "because I don't give in to bullies."

Kayla then tried a hundred things. She tried to convince him. She tried to bribe him. She promised a future career in the new government. And then she threatened to call the One back into the room and let them beat old Einstein-Freud until he was black and blue. Still, the man just shook his head sadly, and rejected everything.

Then she raised the gun.

“Tell me,” she whispered. Her voice turned desperate, almost pleading. Because she knew what the answer would be. And when he refused again, she knew what she would have to do.

“No, madam.”

She shot him in the arm. The sound echoed off the cramped little walls, so that it sounded like a bomb going off. He crumpled over in pain; the blood splatter looked like fresh red paint.

“Tell me.”

He tried to say something, but his voice came out in ragged gasps. She leaned close, tilting her ear to his mouth, so that he could whisper the prized secret to her, telling her how to shut this abomination down. He said to her:

“I will not.”

Kayla screamed in rage, turning around in the closet, feeling so many of the memories of the One at that moment that it nearly overwhelmed her. This isn’t what she wanted to become. She didn’t want to be this. Her fist banged against the door. She turned around, raising the gun again- now it was at his head. His sparkling, hungry eyes met hers again. There was a challenge there.

She breathed deep, ran her finger against the trigger... and lowered the weapon. “I can’t.” And she stalked out the room, to find the One outside. 

The One looked at the protectors and the other staff as they were eating the meat, [i] their [/i] meat with a look torn between pure hatred and pity. 

On one side, they pitied them for being in this situation. For starving, for fighting to stay alive at any cost, for their integrity in not surrendering to the madness that is isolation. 

On the other side, the protectors deserved to die for their foolishness of getting themselves trapped and starving. They should be left to starve until they learn better, left to suffer until they break. After all that if they would still be alive, they would be reborn and would deserve to breathe. 

Memories came rushing to the One, remembering the faces of those on the colony ships. Beaten and broken, starving, their minds dead even if their bodies didn’t know yet. At the same time, others memories would surface, Kayla’s. The children she didn’t realize were there, begging in the streets. The hungry cries of a populace too afraid to fight their oppressors. The protectors beating up a kid for trying to steal from someone who thought they were important. For a second, the One was overwhelmed and it could be seen on their faces, a split second was all it took and then their usual calm face took over. The craziness in their eyes was gone, replaced with the one from before.

They [i] will [/i] not break.  They [i] will [/i] not surrender to their feelings. They [i] will [/i] overcome anything that comes towards them.

A gunshot from inside the small room where Kayla was and two Jamess ran towards the door, thinking that maybe the scientist managed to overpower Kayla. 

“[color=gold] Is everything alright? The scientist gave away his secrets and died or do you need help?[/color]” said one of the James as they saw Kayla outside the room. Something almost broken in her eyes.

She shook her head. “I tried to…” but then the words caught in her throat. She didn’t want to talk about this- right now, she didn’t want to even think about it. There’s a man bleeding in the closet behind her. And she shot him.

She [i]shot[/i] him.

“He’s alive. I’ve hurt him. Badly. I didn’t want to, but-” her voice tried to fly away again, and she struggled to catch it, “-but I did. I did hurt him. Because of you.” She crossed her arms. “‘Cause of your sadistic, fucked up thoughts floating around in my head. It’s your fault. It’s not mine!” 

The One sighted and stared at Kayla for a few seconds, looking at her closely. Emotions fighting on her face. One of the James stepped around Kayla and went to the scientist, bleeding from his arm. Nothing major, not enough to kill him. 

“[color=gold] Kayla. Listen to us. Think. Remember our training, our plight. Calm your emotions. Breath. In. Breath. Out. Center yourself. [/color] said the other James. Mimicking what they were telling Kayla.

After Kayla followed their advice and calmed down, they said : 

“[color=gold] As long as he still lives, it wasn’t us. You know better than anyone what would’ve happened here if we wouldn’t have our minds merged with yours. 
You’ve also been warned what could happen if our minds merged and you agreed and we’re sure you understand why we proposed it as well. We understand your feelings but you also have to understand ours. [/color]” continued the James, a melancholic tone in their voice. 

She nodded. She did understand; that was the worst and best part of it. She knew exactly what he was saying, and why he was saying it. What argument could there be?

“Come on,” she says. “We can’t let him just bleed there.”

The first aid kit was easy to find, the general design not having changed in the last three hundred years: a big, blaringly white box marked "FIRST AID." Kayla should not have known how to use a tourniquet to stop the flow of blood, or how to dress the wound at all. But the One learned it in military training.

 "Okay, okay," she told the administrator, as she finished it up in bandage, while he sat on the floor in front of her, "you should be alright. Roughly speaking."

He stared down at his arm, not for the first time in this little procedure. "I thought you were going to kill me?"

"I could never do that."

"The passcode is Alpha-71-Beijing."

Kayla nearly dropped the first aid kit in shock. He just told her, like that?

The James that was with Kayla watched her clean the admin’s wound and bandage it up. It seemed like a very complicated process centuries ago when they were going through training. Up, down, left, right. Make a small circle with the antiseptic then close it to the wound. They could do it now even if deprived of all their senses. 

The James smiled, a kind smile as the admin told Kayla the code. It was rare for the One to truly smile but in this moment, they felt happy. One helping another, no strings attached.

“[color=gold] Kindness is rare and it can go a long way. Admin, we never asked for your name but share it with us and we will remember you forever. [/color]” said the James. 

“Luther Able,” said the admin, “and I have lived in the ECU for all of my sixty-seven years. I’ve seen the very worst of the protectors and the Oligarchs. As long as you act as they do, everyone will resist you. It’s only when you show kindness that you might break your enemy’s heart.“ He twisted to face Kayla. “If you ever really get into power, madam, remember that.”

She nodded, and swore that she would.

With the passcode, disabling the Beijing power plant was simple. Soon, a rolling darkness swept across New Beijing, one block turning out after another. When they came back on, the system had been firmly disconnected from the Oligarch’s remote access, the passcode changed, and the White Flowers called in to guard it.

Luther Able and his colleagues were set free. But, like all protectors, the guards themselves had to be taken into custody, to await a trial at some future, undetermined date- presumably, when New Hollywood is finally free.

But now that must be made to happen.