Skylark had told her, Skylark had to have told her and this was all a setup to protect the family.

I nodded, gulping down fear. Nothing could be worse than the Gathering, right? That was my lie, there were far worse fates than healing by imprisonment.

"Sirs, madams, this might look strange, but I promise we have all been harmed by the Gathering," I said slowly, my heart pounding. With that preface, I raised my wrist to the Conclave. Arm extended, I closed my eyes against the barrage of cries and gasps.

Standing before me, Gemma's eyes were cool with knowledge. This would protect them, but it ruined me. It was a ploy completely necessary to further their operations along at the cost of my freedom.

Ottosen gasped, spluttering for words. "She's no Severed! Guardian Grace, restrain her at once."

"Soul Traitor!" The woman in the front of the audience shot to her feet, pointing her finger straight at me. "They've begun their attack!"

I turned, eyes pleading to Theo to stop this. Surely he had no idea, surely he wouldn't agree with Ottosen. His face said otherwise. Pales features icy cold with anger and betrayal told me there was no hope.

I didn't struggle or protest. I just held my wrists out to be chained and bowed my head against the waves of anger sent at me from the Conclave. Gruffly, Theo started to pull me away from the podium, stopping as Gemma pushed past us. She took the podium, power glowing in her eyes.

This was exactly what she wanted.

"This is why we cannot rest. This is why we must take action," Gemma said, radianting righteous anger. "They made the first move and now we must follow." She held her arms up, enlightening the Conclave with her truth.

Her reasons for turning me in; fear and anger.

"Gemma, that is enough," Ottosen said, trying to wrest the podium from her control. He yanked it from her, shifting it off-center on the platform. He turned to us, brown eyes squinting with anger. "Take her away!"

Theo nodded gruffly and pulled me towards the door. I kept my eyes downcast, avoiding the hot glares of the Conclave. With a strong push, the doors were flung wide and we were out of the Chambers.

As they slammed shut behind us, I was at least thankful that the eyes were gone. They made my skin crawl with the weight of their judgment, always watching and never seeing.

Guardian Grace, as he was no longer the kind Theo, kept his eyes blank as he lead me to the stairs. He was now one of the Watchers.

"Please, let me explain," I begged. Maybe he could see past my Untrueness. In any case, he was Untrue as well. I had just been untruthful about how Untrue I was.

"You could have explained this to Gemma and I but you didn't. Why should I listen to you now?" His growl was low and menacing as we reached the stairs. Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned to face me. "Until you are locked away from my family, I do not care one bit about your story."

Done with my evil presence, he started down the stairs. I trailed behind him a couple of steps, wishing desperately that he would eventually sympathize with me. He had to see I wasn't a Soul Traitor.

But I was a Soul Traitor. Being out here, playing at belonging here dooms my Soulmate. I should be looking for him, traveling across the Gathered Cities until I found him.

By now, we had reached the lobby. In the bright space lit by the sun, all I could feel was the pressure of assumption and the pain of truth. Turning, we descended another level into darkness.

Before me was a timeless void; a row of barred cells that stretched down the stone gray hall. The only light here came from tiny window slits at the top of the cells and a single bar of light cascading from the very end of the hall.

It smelled musty and a film of dust coated every surface. The iron bars had rusted over the years, probably due to the puddles dotting the gray concrete floor. I would be its first occupant in years.

Yanking open the closest cell door, Guardian Grace forced me into the cage. With a sharp twist of a key, he unlocked my handcuffs and shut the door behind me with a resounding clang. I sat down carefully, tired by the day's busy pace.

"Speak," he said tersely, crossing his arms as he looked down on me.

Sitting on the cold floor, I told him my story, leaving out only what had happened to me at the Facility. How could I explain something I know little about?

When I finished, I slumped forward, curling around my cuffed hands for comfort. I studied the floor closely, tracing the lines in the floor with a finger.

"I trust you," he said finally, causing me to stare up at him in shock. "You've given me little reason to but I know Traitors don't have Souls like that. "

He sighed, studying his feet.

"I just don't know why Gemma revealed you to the Conclave. She had to have good reason to take your still Soul and turn it into a cause." Theo began to pace, face twisted in thought. His boots thumped on the floor, reminding me of my mother's work boots.

Gemma had done what she thought was best for her daughter, just as my own mother had.

"Skylark saw my Soul. Maybe she told Gemma and she used it to help you," I said, tilting my head to the side. "I lied to you two so she exchanged my freedom for everyone's safety. For all she knows, I am a Traitor!"

"You're right. She knows how much danger we're in," Theo said, turning to look at me sharply. "Ottosen fears we want to overthrow him, but this isn't about power!"

His voice deepened with anger, a terrible sight if the anger was directed at you. In the dim light of the hall, I could see him making the same decision Gemma had, but he knew the whole story now.

"Go back up there and protect us," I said quickly. "I can manage down here as long as there's a settlement left when you release me."

I could see the gratitude in his conflicted face. He couldn't have made the right decision on his own.

"I'll explain everything to Gemma. She was right; I think I can use you to convince the Conclave to ignore Ottosen." Theo's face softened, a sad smile crossing his face. "I'm sorry for how we've treated you so far, this isn't how we normally act. We can be better to you than the Gathering was to us all."

He turned away from me, leaving me alone as his footsteps thudded up the stairs.

Lonely in the dim room, I was arguably worse off than I had been in the Facility. There were no mysterious treatments here but the same ignorance and fear followed me here.

Everything the Doctor had done was in a poor attempt to save my Soul, but the true Traitors wouldn't hesitate to rip me to shreds. It was as Redfield said, the Between was worse than any pain the Gathering had put me through. I sighed, helplessly staring at the ceiling of my cage.

I laid back, watching dust swirl in the single beam of light above my cell. Millions of particles shifted and floated, unaware of what lay beneath them. Could a Soul be a dust mote? Some would call it a meaningless end but what is the meaning behind a flower or river or bird?

As a speck of dust, you could simply be, clinging to your Soulmate as you descended gently to the ground. Isn't that what we all wanted? An escape from the monotony of today and tomorrow and all the moments in between to just exist in harmony with your Soulmate.

Soon, the light faded as the evening drew near, bringing me out of the mindset of a speck of dust. I was here, separated from my Soulmate, and no amount of thinking could suspend reality for long.

The idea was quite beautiful, especially because if I was right, I had just watched a pair of Soulmates living in harmony. We were in the between, after all, the realm of Reformation.

To my right, shoes clicked down the stairs too daintily to be Theo's boots. Sitting up, I paled as I recognized the finely clothed man.

Leader Ottosen stepped down from the final step, straightening his pressed suit coat before deigning to acknowledge me.

"You managed to infiltrate us, to fool our Commanding Guardian but look where that got you," he said derisively. His face flamed the red of seething anger, a sharp contrast to his well-manipulated hairstyle.

I stared at him with wide eyes, all too aware of the power men like him and Redfield wielded. Part of me wanted to laugh, here was what Mitchell would become. The thought was more terrifying than funny.

"Of course, I would hate to hurt anyone." Ottosen paused, enjoying his words. "Well, that isn't true. But, you've proven to be a danger to my plan so I think I'll just have to take care of you real quick. You can't help Gemma and Theo if you're dead."

He had scared me before but the true Ottosen was terrifying. Death, Ending before your Soulmate, was even more terrifying. And I was helpless to save myself.

From his pocket, he pulled out the jangling keyring. With a terrifyingly dark grin, he held them up and fitted the right key into the lock.

I shoved myself against the back corner of the cell, trying to get far away from the madman.

"Help, someone, please!" I screamed as he turned the key deliberately, relishing my fear.

I stood up quickly, my heart beating a warning for me to run. There was nowhere to run.

Ottosen swung the door open finally and stepped into the cell. Rolling up his sleeves, he grinned more terribly.

"No one can hear you now. They'll never hear you again," he snarled as he came closer. Pressed flat against the wall, I knew there was no hope left.

He came closer still, hot breath hitting my face. In two steps, he was on me, a claw-like hand wrapping around my neck to pull me up the wall.

My blood rushed as I wildly tried to defend myself. Scrabbling at his hands, I stared into his empty eyes.

I hadn't even scratched him.

His hand tightened around my throat and he began pulling me up the cold wall. Gasping for air, my feet left the ground. A black box outlined my vision and my hands began to relax.

He was going to kill me. He was going to kill me with the hand wrapped around my throat and I couldn't take a breath anymore.

My head felt like it was going to burst and everything started to give.

No! I wouldn't let him kill me! Whatever energy I had left surged to my foot and I kicked him as hard as I could.

He grunted, pain exploding in his eyes as the grip on my neck weakened. I wrenched his hands away and fell to the floor. Dodging a grabbing hand, I stood and made it halfway across the cell, then out the door.

Slamming it shut, I twisted the key he had left in the lock and sat down hard. The keys fell out of my hand, rattling sharply. Wheezing, I closed my eyes against the pain. My throat burned as a mixture of tears and near death scraping at it.

"I might be Untrue," I rasped, "but I'm not a filthy Traitor like you. I'll tell everyone what you really are and we'll stop you." I coughed; my resolve was unbroken though my body felt destroyed.

Heart still pounding, I stared at the disheveled man. Slowly, he pulled himself up the bars of the cage to stare down at me.

"Who will they listen to, their leader or a lying Traitor? Either way, you survived me but you won't survive us," Ottosen hissed, grinning.

Struggling to breathe, I stood. He had a point. I staggered to the stairs, unwillingly to give up. I had to warn everyone and tell them what Ottosen really was.

"Filthy Severeds," he growled behind me.

I turned, my mind boiling at his words. He stood still, arms crossed as he stared at me in satisfaction. The Severeds were far from filthy disgraces. They were better than Traitors, and I was a better Traitor than Ottosen.

"You'll pay for all of this," I said staring him down. "After all, I doubt they'll believe their 'leader' who has a Traitor's Soul he's never shown them."

Confident now, I started climbing the steps. Lungs wheezing for air, I paused on a landing. Just beyond the window was a warm spring day, complete with children racing down the streets of the settlement. Bright flashes of color, they were all Soul-mixed.

I couldn't give up like the Severeds had. Could I? Was the idea of Severed love really so bad?

Yes! I had to keep going and not stop until my dreams laid in the palm of my hand.

I staggered down the wood flooring, nearing the door in between me and the Conclave. Nearly there, I slumped against a lilac wall. The world was blurry, beams of sunlight tilting strangely as I gasped for more air.

My throat burned as I breathed, bringing back memories of the Facility. I knew it was far behind me, a strangely ambiguous feeling, but it was with me still.

"Don't be afraid, Birdie. Fear isn't worth your attention." My sight returned to see him standing before me, a comforting arm laced around his little girl. Dressed in his Creator grays, he looked exhausted.

His beard was midnight black and dotted with the white stars he loved to watch. I had watched them when he had spoken to me, enthralled by their permanence and beauty.

My father ruffled the hair of his birdie. "Nothing can hurt you as long as I'm protecting you." She smiled, but I cried. This memory was from a week before.

Straightening, I pushed through the misty forms, breathing them in as they disintegrated. I had survived this long, nothing could hurt me now.