Singer should be afraid.

That would be the proper emotion to be feeling right about now. Her voice has been taken from her. She has been betrayed by her sister just weeks after Wesley's death, and she's been shipped to some base in England.

She should be afraid. She should be heartbroken.

But she isn't. She doesn't feel anything.

The Jeep slows to a stop, and the driver steps out, walking around to open the door for the younger girl. She didn't even realize they had made it to Mullins. She wasn't listening, nor was she watching. She didn't want to. She just wanted to drift off into her own world. She saw no reason why she should force herself to face this reality all the time, now that she no longer has to.

She made herself focus for Katelyn and Wesley. Now one is dead and the other a traitor. There's no need for her to torture herself any longer.

A scoff leaves her lips. That's a lie. Singer knows the terrible things she did were now all for nothing. She did it to protect the people she loved, and it turns out Katelyn was a Torrencer all along, and Wes... he's dead. All their plans of marriage and children and a dog-all of it is gone now. Looking back it all seems like a fairytale, something both of them believed deep down would never become a reality.

They were right.

"Runner Forty-three," The driver says, clearing his throat. Singer wasn't given his name, although it appears he wasn't given hers either. That doesn't surprise her, seeing how names can be traced back to origins, and that's the last thing the Torrencers want.

With a sigh that hurts just a little too much, Singer hops out of the Jeep, glancing at what will be her home for the next... forever. This place bought her. It owns her. Until she dies, she is sure she'll never be free of it.

It reminds her of the AMTB. Everyone there walks with purpose, having a goal set in mind, and not once allowing the thought to pass that they might fail it. Unlike the AMTB though, nearly everyone here is an adult. There are a few teenagers, although many of them look to be about sixteen or seventeen, and there are only about seven or eight to be seen. Singer, being only thirteen, is the youngest one here.

Interesting.

"These two will be the ones to show you around Mullins," The driver says, gesturing to two people near him. A man and a woman, both young, looking maybe eighteen or nineteen. The woman is pretty in a rocker sort of way, her blonde hair spiked in a pixie cut, with a lip piecing and a nose piercing. Her eyeshadow is bright pink, with sharp winged out eyeliner. She looks extremely out of place for such a base, even if her uniform matches that of everyone else.

The man seems to fit in more, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. The most noticible thing about him is the tattoo on his neck. It's some sort of bird. Singer doesn't recognize the type but she admires it nonetheless. When she turns to the driver she finds him gone, having walked off without saying another word.

Her lips curl up into a sneer at his rudeness, but her eyes quickly go back to the two guides.

"Hi," The woman says cheerfully-too cheerfully. Singer flinches back, and the woman frowns. "It's okay. We're just going to show you around. I'm Anna, and this is Josh."

Josh gives her a small nod. He doesn't smile, but Singer doesn't take that as a threat. She is used to grim faces. Although honestly, he looks more confused than angry, or even somber.

"I know this is a little weird, being flown from America, but we were told you are good at adapting, and I'm sure they were preparing you for this anyway since you were scheduled to come in 2015. Although I guess this is still a shock, since they had to send you in early. Don't worry. You get used to things after awhile," Anna says with a shrug.

Singer simply raises a brow at her. Scheduled? She acts as if she is here to be some kind helper instead of property that's been bought and traded. Does she not know about this-about the AMTB, about the Torrencers? Singer supposes it would make sense for only the higher-ups to know the truth. These people are just as much of pawns as she is.

"Come on," She says, jerking her head towards the building.

Singer looks over to the man-Josh-who gives her another glance, confusion still swirling in his eyes. She tenses. He gives no sign of being a threat, but the looks he gives still make her uneasy. It's never good to be the center of attention. She hears him muttering to Anna every once awhile, but she ignores him to talk to Singer, showing her the eating area and training grounds and sleeping quarters. Of course, Singer doesn't answer. She can't. Her voice is gone, and there is nothing for her to write on. This is exactly what they wanted, for her to be speechless, with no voice to speak out about the crimes that were done to her and what she was forced to do.

"And this is where Josh and I do our magic," Anna says, gesturing around a tidy room filled with screens and headsets. The room is long, and there are dividers between the computers and screens, most likely to keep operatores from getting distracted.

Singer notices papers stacked neatly at each station, but there are different ornaments or small decorations that differenciate the stations from each other. With how large this base is, SInger isn't surprised at how many stations there are. At the AMTB, a single operator was trained to look over ten to fifteen runners in different locations. With how large Mullins is, it's not surprising that there would be more runners out than that, therefore requiring more operators.

"Pretty cool, huh? I hope this puts your mind at ease knowing that we'll be the ones keeping you safe."

Singer stares blankly at her, only pausing when Josh speaks.

"If she goes out anytime soon."

Anna shoots him a look, and he returns it. He notices Singer's furrowed brows, before sighing.

"Look, I'm not trying to offend you or anything, really. I'm sure you're great at whatever it is you do, but-"

"Josh thinks we were sent the wrong person," Anna blurts out, and Josh scowls at her in reply. Singer's eyebrows shoot up. Wrong person?

"I mean, look at her. She's a kid!"

"We have teenage runners."

"Seventeen and eighteen-year-olds. The sixteen-year-olds only do training."

"Maybe she just looks young for her age."

Josh turns to Singer. "How old are you, Runner Forty-three, if that's who you actually are?"

She sneers at him, before looking for a peice of paper to write on, since she doesn't have thirteen fingers. Since she knows better not to snatch anything from the desk, she traces the number on her arm. Anna blanches wile Josh looks at her almost smugly.

"See? I told you they sent us the wrong person."

Singer glares at him, baring her teeth in an almost animalistic way. She jabs a finger at him, wishing she could yell and curse this bastard for having the audacity to see she was inexpereinced or the wrong person for her age. How insulting! He doesn't know anything!

Anna pushes herself between the two, seeing that Singer is two seconds away from attacking. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation why we were sent such a young runner, and why they sent a mute one. Do you know American Sign Language, Forty-three?"

She shakes her head.

"Good. That'll make it easier to teach you British Sign Language. You won't have to re-learn anything, and we an teach you Morse Code too. Then you'll be talking in no time, and while we're definetely going to have a talk with our runner coordinator, maybe you can help us understand why your were picked. Don't worry, we'll figure everything out." She reaches forward and presses her finger to Singer's nose. "Boop."

Singer snaps her teeth at her, with Anna pulling away just in time.

•

My eyes burn from the sudden light, and I have to blink several times to get used to it. My ears are ringing, and I groan out of pain and annoyance.

"Callista?" Sam's voice is soft, cautious, and I feel warm pressure around my waist, skin sliding against skin as the man in question pulls away slightly. I take a second to look around, realizing where I am, who I am.

The strong smell of sterilized air hits my nose, florescent lighting immediately telling me I'm in a hospital room. Considering those who are standing around me, and Sam who's literally in the hospital bed with me, I'm in a hospital room at Abel.

"What happened?" I ask, my words slurring together. I catch glimpses of everyone's faces. Maxine has a clipboard in hand, as does Veronica. I doubt their reasons for taking down notes are the same. Milo and Phineas watch me with wide eyes, while Adora plays with a few light-up toys on the floor, not paying a lick of attention to me, not that she would know what is going on anyway.

"You fainted after hearing the news recording you received from Sweetpea," Veronica says, fixing her glasses and clicking her pen a few times. "Dr. Cohen said you got this strange look in your eye, like the look you get when Moonchild is talking to you."

I nod. "Yeah... Moonchild-she was there. She said she felt strange... I don't really know what that means though."

She hums and jots something down on her clipboard. My ears are still ringing.

"Was there something on the recording you heard?"

"We will find you and make you ours."

I flinch at the memory. Everyone notices. Sam rubs my arm comfortingly while Maxine places a hand on Veronica's shoulder.

"I think we should wait a bit before we start asking Callista any questions."

The younger girl scowls. "Why? The faster we know what that recording said to Five, the faster we can find out what Sigrid wants with Moonchild Syndrome and the people who have it."

"I don't think waiting a few hours will hurt."

"A few hours could mean everything," She huffs. She turns to Milo. "You know that too."

My shoulders stiffen, already knowing what Veronica is trying to do. She wants Milo to ask me to tell her what happened, because she knows there a better chance of me telling her what happened if he asks. Milo glances from me to Veronica a few times, looking conflicted.

"Well, yeah, but..." He looks at me pleadingly, and I sigh, looking away.

My ears are still ringing.

"The recording said that if I could hear what was being said in the secret message, then I have Moonchild Syndrome and the Minister wants to talk to me. Apparently she's going to call me and I will go when it happens and I will do whatever I am told to do. That was all that was said, basically."

"Are you sure?" Veronica asks.

"Yes, I'm sure." My words have a bit more bite in them than normal.

"Did the message say-"

"She told you what she remembers, Veronica," Maxine says. "If she remembers anything else, I'm sure she'll find you."

The ravenette scowls, but turns on her heel and stomps out of the room. Milo follows after her. I don't try to stop him. Maxine looks at me wearing an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. It seems she doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"I've noticed," I reply, rubbing my temples. "It seems like those movie nights you've been having with her isn't working as well as you thought, Sam."

I know that's a jab for him to hear, but it's true. All the movie nights and talks trying to teach the girl morals aren't working, because unlike Abel's popular belief, Veronica already knows right from wrong. She knows good and bad, but she doesn't care. She's not an ignorant child. She is sixteen, and far from ignorant, far from innocent.

People just don't want to believe it because they want so badly to think Veronica was just misled, and that she's really a good person like her dad was.

Chris McShell never would have agreed to work with Sigrid, even if it would have helped him find a cure. He, unlike his daughter, had morals that he actually valued.

Sam doesn't say anything in regards to my comment, instead stroking my hair. "How're you feeling?"

"There's still an ache," I say, shifting, trying not to look around too much. My eyes finally go to Phineas, who's been watching silently the entire time. Brown eyes search for something unknown, and I find myself unable to ask what he might be looking for.

"An ache?" Maxine repeats, and I nod.

"When that message played... it hurt. Right before I passed out, there was this overwhelming pain in my head. I don't know what the message was supposed to be-a threat or a warning maybe? Either way, it hurt. I'm still feeling the aftermath. How long have I been out, anyway?"

Sam shrugs. "A few hours, give or take. I haven't been looking at the clock too much."

I push myself up, ignoring the odd look I get from Sam as I wiggle out of his grasp and stand. Shakily I dust myself off.

"What are you doing?" Maxine asks. Adora finally seems to notice my existence, and she stands and waddles over to me, her arms raised expectantly. She doesn't like being held most of the time, so I pick up the redhead almost immediately.

"I'm getting ready to leave. I'm awake now, and besides the headache and ringing ears I feel fine. I'll just pop an aspirin and feel better in no time." I shrug halfheartedly, and the tall woman frowns in reply.

"Callista, we still need to run tests, make sure your brain didn't take any serious damage."

"Why didn't you do that when I was unconscious?"

"Well, we did a few-"

"And?"

"So far everything seemed normal," She says, although she seems reluctant, probably because she knows what I'm going to say in response.

"Then I'm fine. I'll just need to not listen to any news broadcasts, just to be safe." I purse my lips when Adora starts to squirm in my arms, signaling she's no longer interested in being held and wants down. I suppose it was too much to hope she'd want to be held for longer than thirty seconds. Since I don't want her to start crying and make the pain in my head get any worse, I set her down.

Sam stands and places a hand on my shoulder, his brows pinched. "You need rest."

"And I'll get it. But there's no need for me to take up a hospital bed when I don't need to." I offer him a small smile, but he still looks skeptical. "If you want, I'll go to the coms shack and rest."

I mean what I say. I do intend on resting, but I don't want to do it here. I've been in this hospital enough times, most of them for terrible reasons. I don't like the reminder being here brings, nor do I want to take up a room that someone else might need. I have accelerated healing. There's no reason for me to be here when I have that.

Sam huffs. "Fine."

"Okay. Phineas, take Adora's hand, please. She isn't in the mood to be carried and she still gets wobbly when walking on the dirt roads. I don't want to leave and then immediately come back because she fell and split her head open."

"I know that feeling," Maxine murmurs under her breath, and I almost think on bringing Adora to the Rec room so she and Sarah can play together, but I know I need to spend with my daughter. As much as I was opposed to being Adora and Phineas's parental figure in the beginning, now I desperately want to make sure Adora sees me as that. Phineas doesn't and never will, so for now I'm simply appreciating the fact that he sees me as someone he can trust, unlike doctors.

He does as told, and together we leave the hospital. Sam joins us, although I think he just wants to make sure I'll stay true to my word and actually go rest. I understand why. I've been known to go back o my word before, although with how I feel right now, I don't think it would be smart for me to try to do anything like help in the kitchens or tend to the horses.

We walk in silence, but I don't mind it. It helps ease the pain. I don't know if that hidden message was supposed to hurt or not. I mean, I guess it was. I don't see how I'm any different from any other Moonchild Syndrome sufferers, unless it hurt because Van Ark's treatments altered the way my brain works, but I highly doubt that since there have been tons of tests ran on me since I was injected with Van Ark's cocktail, and everything has seemed normal. And I have an incredibly high pain tolerance, so it couldn't be because of that either.

It might have been a threat. That news reporter didn't exactly sound kind when she was telling me what I would do. It wouldn't surprise me that Sigrid would want to send out something that would make us fearful to not do as she asked.

It's still unclear as to why she wants people with Moonchild Syndrome, but I'm guessing maybe she thinks because Moonchild is 'within us' that she will come out and spot something she missed, like she's done with me several time. She was friends with Moonchild, so maybe she thinks this weird version of her in other people will help her in time of need. I'm not sure. 

When we reach the coms shack, the first thing I do when heading inside is grab my Winnie-the-Pooh and hand it to Adora to play with. It's not as fun as her light-up toys, which I forgot to grab when leaving the hospital, but she finds it entertaining nonetheless. Phineas looks at me with curiosity, as if to ask what he's supposed to do now that we're here. I head to the desk and pull out a deck of cards.

"We can play Go Fish," I suggest, and he seems to like that idea enough because he nods and takes a seat on the floor. I turn to Sam. "There's aspirin somewhere in here, right?"

He grabs a bottle from the small shelf on the wall, deadpanning since it was right in front of my eyes. I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Don't judge me. I just woke up."

"Which is exactly why you need to be resting," He replies, handing me the bottle. I open it and plop two pills into my open hand.

"I am resting. Go Fish is a game that takes minimal effort, even less since Phineas stinks at it."

"Hey, I can still read your lips even if you're not talking to me." The blond scowls, and I grin before popping the two pills into my mouth.

"I'm just going off of what Milo told me," I grin, dry swallowing the pills. It's not pleasant, but I've gotten used to it over the years.

"Well, Milo's a liar."

I bite the inside of my cheek. He's not exactly wrong. I sit down on the floor and begin to shuffle the cards, casting a glance over at Sam. "Wanna play?"

He replies with a shake of his head, sitting down beside me. He rolls his shoulders, his face scrunching up as he tries to stretch stiff muscles. I'm guessing it's from laying in the hospital bed with me for a few hours. I lean my head on his shoulder one he stills,  hoping the gesture lessens his anxiety, even just a little bit. I relax against him, trying to get comfortable and ignore the dull ache in my head. Shuffling the cards a bit more, I give seven to Phineas and seven to myself.

"You can go first," I say, and he nods, looking at his cards.

"Got any threes?" He asks, grinning when I hand over two cards.

"Got any Jacks?" I ask.

"Go fish."

I huff but pull a card from the deck. Thankfully it's a Jack, meaning I have three of them now. As Phineas studies his cards, looking for the next one to ask me about, I tilt my head so my lips are just a few inches away from Sam's ear.

"I know it's only been a few days since I said yes, but when did you want to start planning the wedding? Or do you want me to do the planning by myself? I kind of have experience now since I helped with Paula's and Maxine's."

He flinches, probably from the feel of my breath on his skin. Blinking and taking a few moments to register my question, he turns his head to look at me. He opens his mouth to reply, but Phineas speaks before he can.

"Got any Aces?"

I look down at my cards. "Go fish. Got any sixes?"

He hands me one card.

"I didn't know when you wanted to start planning," I murmur to Sam, meeting his eyes again, "since we haven't really picked out a date yet."

"Got any nines?" Phineas asks, and I shake my head.

"Go fish. Did you have a date in mind? Got any fours?"

"Go fish."

"I don't," Sam answers. He drums his fingers absentmindedly on my leg. "Did you?"

I shrug, handing Phineas the three I just grabbed from the deck. He has a set of four-or is called a pair of four?-which he sets aside, grinning pridefully. Honestly I wasn't planning on winning anyway, even though this is simply a game of luck and remembering if someone asked for a card beforehand. My taunts were simply a way to get him interested in the game. And when Adora waddles over to me with my toy, I smile and interact with her as best I can, which is mostly just smiling and nodding. Going between playing with the two isn't hard-smiling and making surprised noises at Adora when she swings Pooh bear around, asking Phineas for a card or giving on away-but I find myself quickly forgetting Sam's questions, even though the pain in my head has lessened because of the aspirin.

"Did you?" He asks again as I take a card from the deck.

"I mean, I just wanted it to be sometime this year, unless you wanted to get married in 2021." I shrug. "Got any Aces?"

Phineas hands me two cards with a huff while Sam nods.

"Well, we could get married this year. It's not like it would take too long to plan. You had Paula and Maxi's wedding planned out within a few months."

"I did," I say, pausing to listening to Phineas's question before shaking my head. "Go fish. It wasn't too hard, although I don't know if I'll be able to tailor a suit. You might just have to run to a store with me to get something your size."

"Is that what you're going to do with your dress?"

"Probably, but someone else will have to be operator for that mission."

He frowns. "Why?"

"Because it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding day, and the last thing we need is more bad luck."

A small chuckle leaves his mouth at that. "You're not wrong. Although who's going to uh... officiate the wedding? There's not very many pastors in Abel, and the captain who officiated Maxine and Paula's wedding went back to New Canton."

I shrug. "We'll find someone. We've got a few months... but how many is a few?"

"That is the question."

"When did you want to have it?"

He rubs his arm, looking slightly sheepish. "How many months do you need to plan everything out?"

"I got Paula's and Maxine's done in like... two, although we didn't do as much as I would have liked."

"So three months then?"

"Sure."

"May 31st?"

"Works for me," I say with a grin.

"Great," Phineas huffs, grabbing my attention. His lips are pursed as he struggles to keep Adora from grabbing his cards. "Can we continue with our game now?"

I smile, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry," I say, looking down at my own cards. "Do you have a-"

I cut myself off as a sharp pain laces through my brain, the ringing coming back louder than before, just for a split second. I wince, cards slipping through my fingers, fluttering to the floor. Suddenly everything seems too loud, and I slump slightly forward.

"Callista?" Sam's voice cracks. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just-" I wince again. "That headache's coming back. I think I might need to-I might need to lie down or something."

"You're not going to pass out again, are you?" Phineas asks, and I shake my head, forcing myself to keep my head up so he can read my lips.

"No, but I think we're going to have to cut our game short. Since you have a pair of fours and I don't, you're the winner. Congratulations."

He doesn't smile.

"Phineas, why don't you and Adora go to the Rec room?" Sam suggests. "You can take the cards and bring them back later or something. I'm sure there's someone there who will play with you."

The blond stands slowly, his eyes glancing from me to the door as he grabs Adora's hand. He takes the toy from her and sets it down, and she whimpers but thankfully doesn't start to cry. They leave slowly. I think he's worried about me.

I think he should be.

"Do we need to go back to hospital?" Sam asks once the door is closed. I shake my head.

"It's just a headache. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

I glare at him, which makes him flinch back a bit. "I'm sure. I just need to sit here for a few minutes, not focus on anything."

He looks conflicted, but finally seems to accept my answer. I rest my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes for just a moment, only for them to snap back open when I hear an echoing voice. I know from the familiar feeling it's not a message from Sigrid. Rather, it's a message of what is to come.

"Moonchild, speak to me," Sigrid demands, "or return to Gaia, the Wakened Land!"

A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment. Thank you and have a blessed day!