The halls were empty and dim. The smell of bleach and flowers hung in the air—two scents designed to cover up vile stenches. The walls were dark gray, lit only by a single bulb next to the three doors that were spaced apart down the hallway.

While the Association was on the cutting edge of new weapon technology, it lacked decorum with medical supplies. Assassins were weapons on their own, and the Modifier's their armor. Most doctors and supplies would be acquired when the Association obtained complete global control. So for now, a small run-down warehouse on the outskirts of Phantom's HeadQuarters sufficed.

Isaac stood against the wall, adjacent to the middle door halfway down the hall. A magnetic plaque was placed across the door's face, stating the name and Modifier number of the patient. Trace 1207. One of the newest Phantom recruits with so much potential, but still so much to learn.

Had Phantom overestimated the boy? Even Isaac hadn't made so many mistakes in such a short period of time. Though he was given longer than a week to grapple with his Modifier and new environment.

A light flickered next to him, and he glared at it as though it had purposefully done this to annoy him.

Isaac had been a part of the Association ever since he can remember, tracing back to his childhood, when it was still in its earlier stages. As his parents had been monumental members, he'd been given his status through his relation to them. A few others earned this birthright, while others were awarded the status for outstanding performance.

Sometimes he'd wished he'd earned it rather than received it freely.

Isaac thought of Alexis, who'd earned her place as an Escort. She'd been trained into a monster by the time she was seventeen. The Association quickly chose to control this power by offering her nobility she couldn't refuse.

Only a small number of others had been given such a monumental title, and most everybody cherished it. Treated it like losing it would mean death.

But Isaac was more pleasured by his recent assignment of and replacement for WP-0770's leader, Peter. The animosity he'd felt from this particular group of assassins replenished his thirst for victory. And he was sure he'd already gained an ally in Trace. The look in his eyes when he'd seen Isaac finish off an entire family of Mafia was enough to satiate Isaac. From that moment, he'd decided to mold Trace into the relentless assassin he knew he could become.

If only the boy hadn't gotten carried away.

Isaac stared at the name and number on the plaque as though enough concentration would alter the letters and switch out the bodies in that room.

Of course, they didn't.

None of WP-0770's members knew what had happened tonight. And Isaac wouldn't tell them. The group was still emotionally vulnerable and could cost Isaac his post.

The knob on the door turned and slid out of its latch. The hinges groaned as a tall person dressed in white pushed it open and closed it quietly behind. A clipboard rested in the bend of her elbow, and she clutched it with a bare hand.

Isaac stepped forward to greet the doctor. "I'm his guardian."

The doctor wore a gray mask, but there was still light in her eyes. She reached to shake his hand. "I'm aware." She sighed, gesturing with a hand for Isaac to follow her. He turned and walked beside her.

"I've been notified by his accompanying Escort that their training had been interrupted by a directive ordered by Phantom," she said. She sounded tired, thought Isaac couldn't imagine any other patients she'd be attending to tonight.

"I heard the same," Isaac said carefully. In truth, he'd just been told that Trace was injured and had lost consciousness due to blood loss. The communication was curt.

The doctor lifted a page on her clipboard, her eyes moving across her diagnoses. Then, sighing, she brought the clipboard to her hip. "The objects that penetrated his left thigh were removed before he was brought to me, so I don't know exactly what caused his clotting. I'm having my assistant run a blood test now to see what foreign substance entered his blood stream. Other than that, his vitals are fine, and we've managed to bring his heartrate back to normal. He's still unconscious, though."

Isaac stopped at the end of the hall just as the doctor was about to turn the corner. He faced her. "Do you suspect poisoning?"

She breathed heavily, then shook her head slowly. "If it were poisoning, he'd be either dead or at least not at normal levels right now. He's fine."

He shook his head. "What if the poison is dormant?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow at this speculation. "If it is, my assistant will be the first to know. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She nodded to Isaac as an end to their conversation and continued down the hall to a stairwell. Isaac watched her until she disappeared, then briskly walked back to Trace's room.

Shortly after he'd arrived back, Alexis came out of the room. She turned and pressed her back against the wall, then slid down until she was sitting with her knees bent awkwardly and outwards. Her eyes and face were pale, and she looked forward at nothing.

Isaac didn't even need to ask her. He whipped around, grabbed the doorknob, and yanked the door open. It slammed behind him, startling the assistant who was removing an IV from Trace's pale arm. He was maskless and naked, wearing only a sheet over his body.

The young assistant's eyes widened with shock, and she instinctively dropped the needle and tube to raise her hands in surrender. Her legs trembled beneath her but remained strong enough to not give out.

The monitor next to Trace was shut off, but Isaac was almost certain of what it would read had it been turned on.

"What happened to him?" Isaac demanded.

The gray mask on her face hung there just barely, and tears began to stream down her eyes. "H-hemlock p-poi—"

"Hemlock poisoning," Isaac completed the phrase for her. So the doctor had lied to him. "How long?"

The assistant blinked through tears to her station, where a clock hung on the wall. "Shortly after he'd been brought in. But Dr. Elise said not to say anything."

"Then you should be punished." Isaac reached into his cloak, pulled out a small pistol, and aimed it at the assistant. This obviously terrified her more, but this is what Phantom would want.

He pulled the trigger and the small bullet shot through her neck, torpedoing so quickly that the skin showed no signs of damage. But Isaac knew the artery was punctured, and she'd bleed internally and die within minutes.

Finally, her legs collapsed beneath her, and her eyes stayed open, glossy with horror.

Isaac moved quickly to Trace's side, removed a glove, and pressed his index and middles fingers gingerly to Trace's cold wrist. Two seconds went by, and there was nothing. Then, the faintest thud of life pulsed under Isaac's fingers.

Trace wasn't dead yet.

Alexis, Isaac called out. I need your hands.

She came in as soon as he called, her face already having more color than it had moments before.

Modifier adjustment? She assumed, her eyebrows raised. What do you need me to do?

Blood cycling, Isaac said quickly, focusing his attention on the minimal arrangement of supplies scattered across the surface of a small medical cart. He needs oxygen. Bring me a mask and tank.

Alexis was efficient in her obedience. She quickly found and hooked up the oxygen, strapping a plastic mask over Trace's nose and mouth. His faint breaths fogged the interior and Alexis's eyes brightened.

She looked down at the assistant, then back up at Isaac, who was hastily removing the gauze around Trace's leg. His eyes were filled with black and focused. He raised and centered a withdrawal needle over the bloody wound, sinking it into the flesh once he was sure of the placement.

Wouldn't it be quicker to replace his Modifier?

Isaac never once looked away from his work. He reached behind him, to a box-shaped machine, and he pressed his thumb to a switch, making it roar to life. It chugged aggressively, pulling out large amounts of Trace's contaminated blood. As it did this, Isaac reached for another tube and needle, attached it to the other end of the machine, and inserted it carefully into the vein where the assistant had removed the IV.

What does the machine say? Isaac asked.

Alexis leaned over to peer at the digital screen on the top of the box. O negative.

Get me five bags.

Alexis left and came back moments later with the specified number of bags, then attached them to the machine quickly. After a few seconds, the machine began to refill Trace's veins with fresh O negative blood.

It took exactly five bags to replenish his supply. Isaac shut the machine off, powered on the monitor, and watched as the lines across three different levels slowly rose and fell. The heartbeat was still dreadfully slow, but it was also still there.

Isaac only knew how to do these things because he'd seen them done firsthand once before. But he didn't know how to increase Trace's heart rate, which was still very weak.

Alexis sensed Isaac's uncertainty and patted him on the shoulder. He flinched at her touch.

His heart needs to cycle the blood through his body. Once it's done that, his Modifier will do the rest. She gripped his hand around his collarbone. I didn't know you cared about the boy so much. She glanced down once more at the lifeless girl on the floor.

Isaac shook her off. It's what Phantom would've had me do.

Sure it is, Alexis agreed. But isn't it also what you wanted to do?

Isaac didn't reply, nor did he look to see Alexis's eyes. If he did, she'd see that he did this for his own selfish ambition, not to keep her trainee alive.

But he'd let her believe what she wanted to for now. The halls were empty and dim. The smell of bleach and flowers hung in the air—two scents designed to cover up something vile. The walls were dark gray, lit only by a single bulb next to the three doors that were spaced apart down the hallway.

While the Association was on the cutting edge of new weapon technology, it lacked decorum with medical supplies. Assassins were weapons on their own, and the Modifier's their armor. Most doctors and supplies would be acquired when the Association obtained complete global control. So for now, a small run-down warehouse on the outskirts of Phantom's HeadQuarters sufficed.

Isaac stood against the wall, adjacent to the middle door halfway down the hall. A magnetic plaque was placed across the door's face, stating the name and Modifier number of the patient. Trace 1207. One of the newest Phantom recruits with so much potential, but still so much to learn.

Had Phantom overestimated the boy? Even Isaac hadn't made so many mistakes in such a short period of time. Though he was given longer than a week to grapple with his Modifier and new environment.

A light flickered next to him, and he glared at it as though it had purposefully done this to annoy him.

Isaac had been a part of the Association ever since he can remember, tracing back to his childhood, when it was still in its earlier stages. As his parents had been monumental members, he'd been given his status through his relation to them. A few others earned this birthright, while others were awarded the status for outstanding performance.

Sometimes he'd wished he'd earned it rather than received it freely.

Isaac thought of Alexis, who'd earned her place as an Escort. She'd been trained into a monster by the time she was seventeen. The Association quickly chose to control this power by offering her nobility she couldn't refuse.

Only a small number of others had been given such a monumental title, and most everybody cherished it. Treated it like losing it would mean death.

But Isaac was more pleasured by his recent assignment of and replacement for WP-0770's leader, Peter. The animosity he'd felt from this particular group of assassins replenished his thirst for victory. And he was sure he'd already gained an ally in Trace. The look in his eyes when he'd seen Isaac finish off an entire family of Mafia was enough to satiate Isaac. From that moment, he'd decided to mold Trace into the relentless assassin he knew he could become.

If only the boy hadn't gotten carried away.

Isaac stared at the name and number on the plaque as though enough concentration would alter the letters and switch out the bodies in that room.

Of course, they didn't.

None of WP-0770's members knew what had happened tonight. And Isaac wouldn't tell them. The group was still emotionally vulnerable and could cost Isaac his post.

The knob on the door turned and slid out of its latch. The hinges groaned as a tall person dressed in white pushed it open and closed it quietly behind. A clipboard rested in the bend of her elbow, and she clutched it with a bare hand.

Isaac stepped forward to greet the doctor. "I'm his guardian."

The doctor wore a gray mask, but there was still light in her eyes. She reached to shake his hand. "I'm aware." She sighed, gesturing with a hand for Isaac to follow her. He turned and walked beside her.

"I've been notified by his accompanying Escort that their training had been interrupted by a directive ordered by Phantom," she said. She sounded tired, thought Isaac couldn't imagine any other patients she'd be attending to tonight.

"I heard the same," Isaac said carefully. In truth, he'd just been told that Trace was injured and had lost consciousness due to blood loss. The communication was curt.

The doctor lifted a page on her clipboard, her eyes moving across her diagnoses. Then, sighing, she brought the clipboard to her hip. "The objects that penetrated his left thigh were removed before he was brought to me, so I don't know exactly what caused his clotting. I'm having my assistant run a blood test now to see what foreign substance entered his blood stream. Other than that, his vitals are fine, and we've managed to bring his heartrate back to normal. He's still unconscious, though."

Isaac stopped at the end of the hall just as the doctor was about to turn the corner. He faced her. "Do you suspect poisoning?"

She breathed heavily, then shook her head slowly. "If it were poisoning, he'd be either dead or at least not at normal levels right now. He's fine."

He shook his head. "What if the poison is dormant?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow at this speculation. "If it is, my assistant will be the first to know. Now, if you'll excuse me."

She nodded to Isaac as an end to their conversation and continued down the hall to a stairwell. Isaac watched her until she disappeared, then briskly walked back to Trace's room.

Shortly after he'd arrived back, Alexis came out of the room. She turned and pressed her back against the wall, then slid down until she was sitting with her knees bent awkwardly and outwards. Her eyes and face were pale, and she looked forward at nothing.

Isaac didn't even need to ask her. He whipped around, grabbed the doorknob, and yanked the door open. It slammed behind him, startling the assistant who was removing an IV from Trace's pale arm. He was maskless and naked, wearing only a sheet over his body.

The young assistant's eyes widened with shock, and she instinctively dropped the needle and tube to raise her hands in surrender. Her legs trembled beneath her but remained strong enough to not give out.

The monitor next to Trace was shut off, but Isaac was almost certain of what it would read had it been turned on.

"What happened to him?" Isaac demanded.

The gray mask on her face hung there just barely, and tears began to stream down her eyes. "H-hemlock p-poi—"

"Hemlock poisoning," Isaac completed the phrase for her, his eyes tightening. The doctor had lied to him. "How long?"

The assistant blinked through tears to her station, where a clock hung on the wall. "Shortly after he'd been brought in. But Dr. Elise said not to say anything."

"Then you should be punished." Isaac reached into his cloak, pulled out a small pistol, and aimed it at the assistant. This obviously terrified her more, but this is what Phantom would want.

He pulled the trigger and the small bullet shot through her neck, torpedoing so quickly that the skin showed no signs of damage. But Isaac knew the artery was punctured, and she'd bleed internally and die within minutes.

Finally, her legs collapsed beneath her, and her eyes stayed open, glossy with horror.

Isaac moved quickly to Trace's side, removed a glove, and pressed his index and middles fingers gingerly to Trace's cold wrist. Two seconds went by, and there was nothing. Then, the faintest thud of life pulsed under Isaac's fingers.

Trace wasn't dead yet.

Alexis, Isaac called out. I need your hands.

She came in as soon as he called, her face already having more color than it had moments before.

Modifier adjustment? she assumed, her eyebrows raising. What do you need me to do?

Blood cycling, Isaac said quickly, focusing his attention on the minimal arrangement of supplies scattered across the surface of a small medical cart. He needs oxygen. Bring me a mask and tank.

Alexis was efficient in her obedience. She quickly found and hooked up the oxygen, strapping a plastic mask over Trace's nose and mouth. His faint breaths fogged the interior and Alexis's eyes brightened.

She looked down at the assistant, then back up at Isaac, who was hastily removing the gauze around Trace's leg. His eyes were filled with black and focused. He raised and centered a withdrawal needle over the bloody wound, sinking it into the flesh once he was sure of the placement.

Wouldn't it be quicker to replace his Modifier?

Isaac never once looked away from his work. He reached behind him, to a box-shaped machine, and he pressed his thumb to a switch, making it roar to life. It chugged aggressively, pulling out large amounts of Trace's contaminated blood. As it did this, Isaac reached for another tube and needle, attached it to the other end of the machine, and inserted it carefully into the vein where the assistant had removed the IV.

What does the machine say? Isaac asked.

Alexis leaned over to peer at the digital screen on the top of the box. O negative.

Get me five bags.

Alexis left and came back moments later with the specified number of bags, then attached them to the machine quickly. After a few seconds, the machine began to refill Trace's veins with fresh O negative blood.

It took exactly five bags to replenish his supply. Isaac shut the machine off, powered on the monitor, and watched as the lines across three different levels slowly rose and fell. The heartbeat was still dreadfully slow, but it was also still there.

Isaac only knew how to do these things because he'd seen them done firsthand once before. But he didn't know how to increase Trace's heart rate, which was still very weak.

Alexis sensed Isaac's uncertainty and patted him on the shoulder. He flinched at her touch.

His heart needs to cycle the blood through his body. Once it's done that, his Modifier will do the rest. She gripped his hand around his collarbone. I didn't know you cared about the boy so much. She glanced down once more at the lifeless girl on the floor.

Isaac shook her off. It's what Phantom would've wanted.

Sure it is, Alexis agreed. But isn't it also what you wanted to do?

Isaac didn't reply, nor did he look to see Alexis's eyes. If he did, she'd see that he did this for his own selfish ambition, not to keep her trainee alive.

But he'd let her believe what she wanted to for now.

END OF PART ONE