[img=http://i.imgur.com/t9SKBzc.png]

There was a click. Another man rose from the ground into view, pushing his spectacles up his nose with one hand, and held his own red gem to the side with another. “Hello, my dear Amy. Do you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, Jack,” she snarled, jerking her head away from him. “I remember all of you fuckers.”

The man wagged a finger, pursing his lips. “Tut, tut. That language of yours will get yourself hurt someday.” He then knelt down to her level beside her, staring her in the eyes. “Now look at what you’ve got yourself into…”

She raised her hand, poised to smack him right across that bastardly face of his – only to find it forced down to the ground, pressured into place. Horror washed over her face as she turned to the hands causing it. “Even you, Marcus? Largo?” They smiled back to her as she named them. With their hands over her arms, both wore her gem like a stringed necklace.

Shuddering, Amy lifted her eyes. Amidst the sea of familiar faces, all of whom she could name, she could recognize… her own teammates as well. Syed, Don, Dylan, Lucien. Behind them – Trent, Julius, Tobi, Nero, even those pigs Cole and Thunderhawk. Lute and Atlas snickering and pointing at the fallen cleric together. Don’s 20 brothers scattered throughout. Each was in possession of a red gem.

[img=http://i.imgur.com/1hqVvXi.png]

“Such a hateful, hateful woman,” Jack resumed, examining the jewel in his hand. A black wisp of smoke danced around inside it. “How can you expect to do good when you yourself cannot let go of hate?” Turning back to Amy, he reached forward and cupped his hand under her chin, squeezing her cheeks with his fingers. “Just let go, my dear. Give in. This is the way the world—”

Jack pulled back, his face dripping with Amy’s spit.

“Fuck. You.”

---

[img=http://i.imgur.com/dO6vRyy.png]

The two had resumed their play, exchanging who was pursuing the other in a nonstop game of tag. Their laughter filled the forest as trees swayed in their midst, birds singing amongst their running. It was only when Trixie bumped into the one she played with that the game finally came to a stop. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

“Trixie… look.”

Before them lied a long, white table. Beside it was a metallic stand, topped with a tray holding various utensils: scissors, forceps, clamps. Trixie backed away from the sight only to bump into a mechanical console behind her. With a gasp, she lurched forward and clung onto the silhouetted figure, her arms wrapped around its stomach. “I… I’m scared…”

Breathing steadily, the figure glanced around its surroundings. Behind them their previous path had also become encumbered with these… things. The figure shook its head. Locking its ‘eyes’ (where they should be) with Trixie’s, it slowly eased her off of its stomach and linked its arm with hers. “Stay close. I’ll get us out of here.”

Deeper and deeper the two pressed into the forest, the frequency of these unnatural things occurring rising and rising. Patches of dirt and grass hardened into marble flooring. Overhead branches converted into wires and security cameras – shades of blue, black, and grey. Tree trunks morphed into more incubation pods. Sunlight no longer bore through the treetops, as a ceiling soon replaced the very skies, slowly darkening the environment with every step.

It was not long before the forest had finished modifying itself. Now surrounded not by the cricks and cracks of dead leaves beneath their feet, but by mechanical whirs and churrs of self-operating machinery, Trixie and the shadowed figure ceased running once they realized just what they had fled into – an old laboratory.

Trixie clung onto the figure’s arm tightly, only for it to embrace her again, shorter this time. She couldn’t even form words, only wheezing and whimpering. The shadowed figure caught onto this and calmly held her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Trixie. We’ve escaped this danger before; we can do it again.”

“But… but Amy’s not…”

The figure sighed lightly, leaning its head to one side. “I’m a superhero, remember?” Its arms extended again. “I can carry you, if you like…”

Trixie sniveled with a smile, shaking her head as she ran a finger below her nostril. “Know what? You may not be [i]the[/i] Wonderboy, but you’re [i]my—”[/i] Her sentence was cut short with a yelp; the entire building began to rattle. The figure slid its palm into Trixie's own, holding her hand as they charged further into the depths of the makeshift laboratory.

They had to escape.