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You're correct. It's probably been at least six or seven... maybe more... years since we've bought new books. Back when this school was just a normal school.

So it was once one... Strange of a school to have some of these facilities, but I'm assuming that has something to do with the bloody two hundred years of difference. No matter--I've...heard that your methods are to do with that virus beyond the walls. I can't say I see the connection. How do you intend to solve it, by putting us through...all of this?

What's the purpose of it, I'm asking.

As you learned when your group approached the wall, it's dangerous here. Even the best of people can be driven to do terrible things. What you may not be aware of is that this is not the original school building.

But most of the rooms are based on the original rooms. This was a school for particularly talented individuals. It wasn't exactly a normal school even before. The titles you have now are not entirely unlike the types of students we'd have had before. People who excelled in a particular area and wanted to study both traditional classes, as well a hone their specialties.

Anyway. We've had to move already, because an area won't be safe forever. And we're naturally prepared to do it again if we have to, to protect the students.

Anyway-- the theory that our Headmaster developed required heroes. Not in the literal sense, but those that possessed the pure qualities of one. That people with that potential would be naturally prone to immunity. Keep in mind that his theory was tested, but in a limited, controlled facility.

Right. Now. Back to the program.

But those are not necessarily quantifiable qualities. So he declared that we should test them in our school-- and he developed this "program". He made use of the existing staff, including myself to run this program. Not all accepted naturally, but enough to run the school.

[ Okay... So, a recreation of the original school...which probably explains why it's so weird. Only one classroom, and all that. However-- ]

And your Headmaster, this esteemed man that he is, thought dragging in a bunch of people, from all other worlds, and subjecting them to horrible torture would draw out the most...pure of the pure, who could be immune...to D-756.

I'd request you pass on to him, that I think he's a psychotic loony. Just as an initial impression.

Why not just use people from your own world? What necessitated bringing us?

I assure you, I will take great joy in passing that on to him.

Now we have used volunteers from our own world. With the number of people who've been affected, there are a lot who are willing to help if they can. But this illness came from another world, so-- as it became more difficult to find volunteers, it was discussed that it may be easier to find people that are immune to it in others. Some may have come in contact with it and already built up an immunity. If we could test someone like that, it would make our work a lot easier. Likewise, if we could actually find the Patient Zero that was first infected.

At least enough people thought it was worth testing.

Right, then enough people of your world are also off their rockets.

How did it get here? How do you know it came from another world?

[ There's so much here...she wishes she could write it down, but ugh. ]

First off, let me start by saying that I've only heard this story from other members of the science department. But this is what I know.

Around the time when the school was forced to close it's normal operations, about five years ago-- they made a breakthrough discovery which led to a new theory about time and space travel. But before the proper simulations and tests could be run, someone ran a real life test. And it worked. But it wasn't properly perfected. And afterwards we started seeing the effects.

[ She narrows her eyes in thought. ]

So, your people dragged something from another world and caused this whole...everything. Is that it?

Why is this the first we're hearing of it? For three months, you've had a whole group locked up in another house. But no mention of the D-756.

We mentioned it very clearly the first time you all tried to escape.

But none of us can speak clearly about that event. We weren’t involved. And I can’t speak for the others but I’m no expery. Yet I’ve been as willing as any to answer as much as I know.

As far as we have been told it came in. We weren’t looking for it nor did we even use the ability we’d gotten access to. But apparently we opened ourselves up to it yes. That is the story that is told, yes.

Oh, don't mince words with me. The others. Why didn't you tell them about the virus?

[ But, she hesitates... ]

...You sound like you have some reservations, Mister Hale. About what's been told to you.

Frankly, we were told not to until the entrance exam was concluded. At that time we were not decided whether or not to proceed. And telling a bunch of people that they’re responsible for the life or death of others is nothing to toss around without conviction. If the program was stopped before it even began, those people didn’t deserve to live with that lingering knowledge.

[As for his skepticism... she is quite right and he’s not shy to admit it.]

...wouldn’t you Miss Gales? It sounds absolutely ridiculous.

And yet what cannot be ignored is the effect it’s had on people. My brother is in a coma and countless people have died. That is the unshakeable truth that I wish were anything but. So as ridiculous as it all sounds, as little as I want to believe the reality I live in is so fragile— I am compelled to seek a solution. For my brother and for those who’ve yet preserved their lives.

It's funny, how you speak of what they deserve, when we're all still--

[ ...But her retort dies on her lips. His brother, is that it? The personal connection. The reason he does this, though he falters. The frustration.

For family. For...those close. Rebecca loathes to have something in common with him. ]

...So that's how it is, then. Even if they're not being truthful with you. Even if this doesn't work. Even if...our blood has to stain the path. You'll try anything. You're...desperate.

That is correct.

I’ve given everything that I can give, poured every last resource at my disposal to anyone who might have an answer. And all to no avail. I have no other hope. So I let them use me, the same as I would use them to reach my own goals. As long as they are able to produce real results I’m willing to give them everything. I’ll pour my own blood on that path if I must.

And yet it makes me hate it— hate myself no less.

[ This man really is a dead-end. If there's another way, he won't be willing to try it, until he's wrung every drop of life out of all of them, and maybe himself, to boot.

It's with a drained, almost cold tone that she asks her next question. ]

If that's the case...can you at least answer why you seem intent on gifting us painful memories? The things you leave outside our doors. You must know...some of their significance. Mementos of those gone, or...unflattering photos.

[ She says this, though she's thinking of the one in her room, there to greet her each morning now. ]

That hardly seems necessary, to your...cause.

They are not provided by us, but rather by the Administration Building. But nonetheless we are responsible for delivering them to you as they're not here to do it themselves.

[He himself hasn't done it, but he's aware of the strange ritual.]

I'm sure they think they're doing you a service by offering you tokens from home. Likely they're too dumb to realize that they can be more painful than they are helpful.

[He has something like that himself so... he knows.]

I would think a brutal picture of one of your close friend from home, or one of your "classmates," dead, would be something no person in their right mind would find comforting, but then, we've established, your administration is probably missing a few screws.

[ Despite the tone of the conversation, she can't help the bitterness from rising in her voice. Just wait until she sees Ashton's jacket, honestly... ]

How do they get those, anyway? Same way as...all of us?

[He won’t argue with her. He’s always felt that way about certain individuals above him.]

In complete honesty... that is not a question I’ve ever asked them. But I can do so once I’m able to visit that building again.

[Right now, in a wheelchair, there’s no truly safe way to make that trip.]

...Then...I suppose I should come back again, next time you're in. To follow up.

[ She doesn't seem happy about that, but. Well, might as well. ]

You're welcome any time.

[Hopefully next time he won't be so much... like this.]

Office Hours

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cw: suicide-like mentions

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