Official Report

AEGIS Field Office

New Hebron, California

Amy folded her arms across her chest and stared out through the two-way glass to get a better read on Everett Howard. The former old man didn't budge a muscle. He sat there, bubbling and brewing under the surface and wearing clothes at least two or three sizes too large, both arms folded across his chest and staring down at the ground, not noticing the people all around him.

The Agent had seen it before, an exemplar transformed by his or her abilities, who withdrew into themselves unable to cope with what happened. The key was helping them adjust to their new predicament and draw them out before they got stuck in a rut.

As she watched an agent and several other exemplars approached him, attempting to strike up a conversation. Everett answered, but in short grunts and scowls and they abandoned their efforts.

She bit her lip and sighed as the new woman slunk further into his seat. Everett sat along the outer perimeter of what was known as the Green Room by the AEGIS personnel, but was officially named the Athletic Center.

Like any athletic center, it was a place where Agents could come to work out, but unlike other such facilities, the Green Room, above anything else was a place for Exemplars, agents or not, to practice and learn control over their abilities. They'd given it its nickname because the specialized material that helped neutralize certain Exemplar abilities and coated the walls was green.

Everett would have been waiting at the medical facilities, another exemplar seated beside him offering a sympathetic ear, but the recent attack made that all but impossible. The deputy assistant put most of the medical staff on paid leave and the only person available who might have been available had a large workload already. Not surprising considering the state of the medical facility.

So, Amelia settled for the next best thing and Everett sat there like a lump refusing to interact with other human beings. She shook her head, dropped her hands, then slipped out of the door, just to the right of the mirror and stepped out into the green room.

Everett didn't glance up, or speak, not even when she sat beside him. She studied his features, once again, startled by the contrast between his new face and the old. The young woman, who sat beside her looked only a few years out of high school perhaps no older than twenty one. The young woman's skin was smooth and flawless, a healthy dark ebony that contrasted with the pale and pasty pallor of someone who seldom went outside. She couldn't conceive that two people, who differed so drastically in appearance, were, in fact, be the same person.

"Mr. Howard, how are we doing today?" Amelia said placing a hand on Everett's slender shoulder.

He looked up and met her gaze, revealing a startling set of sapphire-blue eyes. "How the hell do you think I am, Agent?"

He spat out the last word, undisguised contempt on his feminine face. If that had been the full brunt, she might have an easier time dealing with his attitude, but the accompanying surge of anger and resentment that came slamming at her through their empathic bond left her breathless. She messaged her temples, a stab of pain cascade across her head at this pronouncement. A flash of white distorted her vision as she attempted to force her way through the pain.

Amelia, paused, gritted her teeth as her vision cleared and withdrew her hand from his shoulder. "Mr. Howard, you should know, I've been chosen to serve as your transition specialist. That means I'll be the one to–"

"To help me adjust to my new predicament," Everett finished and scowled at her as a second wave of anger, this one much easier for the agent to bear, flowed through the bond. "I've already heard the spiel, so place spare me the bullshit."

The whole thing had been director Malcolm's idea. She was qualified, after all, and had joined AEGIS intending to serve that role, but her abilities had seemed to lend themselves more toward a more investigative role within the Agency. It had taken some convincing, but Matthews had persuaded her to take the Agent's Exam and from there she hadn't looked back.

"Okay," Amelia paused attempting to compose herself as she stared back at the facade of the fresh-face young woman who concealed the angry old man behind her lovely features. "I'll be upfront with you. If you keep this attitude up, you will land yourself in trouble. AEGIS is here to help people like you and me, but we can only do so much when you sit and wallow in self-pity and bite the head off of everyone who tries to help you. My superiors worry you might end up on the wrong side of the law. They've seen it dozens of times before. If you don't want to find yourself labeled a potential-aberrant, you need to play ball."

Everett surprised, Amelia instead of shooting off some angry retort, he smiled, and she experienced an odd relief through the bond. "That's the first honest thing anyone has said since I got caught up in the middle of this mess."

The pain dissipated and Amelia smiled back at him, confused by the sudden turnabout, but also relieved. "You should know, that to get your new life underway, you need to pick a name. We can give you one, but most people prefer picking their own out."

"Figures," Everett grunted glancing down at his hands and back up to the agent. "There's no going back, is there?"

"I'm sorry, no. Why don't we go get something to eat, and we can talk about it someplace else?"

"You paying?"

She smirked and met his gaze. "I believe AEGIS will flip the bill."

"Good, I'm famished."

Without further word the Agent lead the soon to be former Mr. Howard out of the green room and toward the promised meal.

"Should have figured," Everett muttered upon stepping through the double doors and looking about.

There was nothing remarkable about the cafeteria, in fact, it wouldn't have seemed out of place in a small school or a private business. Everett had expected something more. He'd eat almost anything, given how hungry he was, but he'd been envisioning a nice juicy steak at a private restaurant and it was doubtful he'd find anything so satisfying in a government-run commissary.

Close to a dozen AEGIS employees, all wearing identity badges around their necks and dressed in dull grays, whites and blacks you would expect occupied the room, either waiting in line for food or already seated around a table. Here or there there was a splash of color, but the woman in the sundress and the man in the blue button-down shirt were the exception rather than the rule.

"Close, but no cigar," he mumbled under his breath glancing at the counter with a sigh and receiving an odd glance from the agent as he followed her through the room.

Amelia hadn't lied when she'd suggested that AEGIS would flip the bill for the food, once they'd dished up and reached the register she produced a payment voucher from inside her jacket. Everett couldn't help feel as if she'd misled him.

Old age had robbed him of the ability to taste, and he had hoped that his first meal in his new youthful body would be something, just a tad more appealing than the greasy Salisbury steak, instant mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables that now adorned his tray. There had to be perk to getting stuck in this new goddamned body, didn't there?

He glared at Van den Broeke and took a seat across from her at a small two-person table, wedged into a back corner of the room. "You call this food?"

Amelia sighed, glanced up at the counter and shrugged. "Well, the term loosely applies. It's not a good idea to eat out given the sensitive nature of the matters we'll be discussing."

Everett scowled at the lump of food like substance he would describe as eat in the broadest sense of the word and shook his head. "You have a point. I wanted my first meal I've had in decades where I could taste what I was eating to be something a little more appealing than this regurgitated crap."

Amelia snorted and stared down at her salad and nodded in understanding. "It's edible, but that's about all I can say for it. How about I make a deal with you, if you cooperate now and later when I take you shopping, so long as we keep the price within reason, I'll treat you to the meal of your choice.

"Deal!" Everett beamed back at her, but a frown creased his face as a sense of dread settled in at the prospect of shopping. He didn't ask what the goal of such an excursion might be. There was a real and practical purpose that any idiot could reason out. At minimum, he needed clothing, not to mention all the feminine accessories and hygiene items the agent might throw into the mix.

There was another prospect he wasn't too thrilled about, but one which he was sure as hell not going to voice around the agent. He would go out into the world as a black woman for the first time. No matter what they saw on the surface, he didn't want people to see a black broad. He was white dammit and a man to boot.

"So, have you thought about a name, yet?" the Agent asked holding her fork over her plate.

"It's only been, what, ten minutes? The prospect of food was just a little more pressing," he replied still staring at his meal his nose crinkled up in disgust.

"Well, why don't we eat and you can think about it, the sooner you pick a name, the sooner I can file the right paper work and you can get your new life on track."

Everett nodded, but didn't say a word, not thrilled by the prospect of a new life. As he got older the more appealing death seemed. He was a widower of over thirty years, he had no family left, save for a granddaughter you wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a crowd, and the few friends who were still alive never talked to him or else were so far gone that they couldn't even form a coherent sentence half of the damn time. He wasn't a religious man, but he believed in an afterlife and the prospect of seeing his long departed wife and daughter once again was very appealing.

Now, he'd been throw into a new younger body and told he must adapt. Being a woman was bad enough, and he'd even given that much attention. The worst part was the change in skin color. He'd been thinking about suicide a lot in the hours since his change, but even if his increased healing abilities allowed it, he somehow knew he could never end his own existence. To Everett it was a coward's act and say what you would about him, but he was no coward.

He looked at the agent watching her eat, taking dainty little bites and staring off into space with a look of disinterest. He found her striking, an attractive young woman who lacked much in the way of figure, but more than made up for it in other ways. As he watched her, he realized something that made him more than just a little uncomfortable. He was attracted to her, in a very big way.

Everett swallowed and forced himself to turn his attention back to his meal, wolfing down the almost flavorless animal byproduct. He forced himself to look elsewhere, the metallic side of a napkin holder that sat on the table between the two. For the first time, he gave his new brilliant blue eyes more than a cursory glance. If he allowed himself, he would have become lost in them. He studied them, piling food into his mouth without paying much mind to what he was doing.

They were brilliant, like sapphires, almost unnaturally blue, and as he stared into those eyes a name struck him, remembered so long ago, from his days of bible studies. He shook his head and glanced at his plate, realizing with a start, that other than a few kernels of corn, a couple chunks of carrots and some gravy, his plate was empty.

Amelia, who had finished her meal, stared at him smiling, her eyes studying him, her emotions an ocean of calm.

"I think I got a name," he said looking up at the young woman with a smile of his own.

It felt so satisfying. He wasn't even sure why, but the name resonated with him. It felt right, like a puzzle piece fitting into place. Deep down, it made a part of him uneasy that this new moniker would bring about such a reaction within him, but he squashed that part of himself.

The Agent leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest waiting for Everett to tell her what moniker he had chosen. When he did, Van den Broeke's eyebrows shot up and stared at him a moment without a word.

"Well, if you're certain. I'll get the paper work filed as soon as I can," she said a smile stretching across her face.

As he looked back at her and nodded. A pit form at the bottom of his stomach at the prospect. Whatever satisfaction he'd gotten from choosing a new name had evaporated. What the hell had he been thinking?

Official Report

Fairhaven Mall

New Hebron, California

"Oh Lord," the once old man stepped through the automatic glass doors and cast his eyes about the place, a scowl on his new face as they slid shut behind him.

Amelia, stopped craned her neck around, those intense green eyes of her studying him with a look he would have a hard time interpreting if not for the bond between the two. The agent seemed curious, but impatience overtook it the longer he looked around.

He sighed shook his head and took several steps toward her, his cheeks burned as he noticed people watching him. The worst part? It wasn't because he been standing there craning his neck around like a jackass. Like it or not, racist or not, in his new form he sure was easy on the eyes. Even the baggy, ill-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants he wore seemed to do little to keep people from looking.

He scowled at a young man, no older than fourteen or fifteen, when he caught him casting furtive glances at his chest and with no prompting veered toward the kid both hands balled up into fists.

A thousand slurs were on the tip of his tongue, some worse than others, but before he could unleash any of them he remembered himself. He stopped mid-stride glanced back at the Amelia and shook his head, remembering his deal with her. She'd promised him a meal and by hell he would get one.

He shook his head, returned to the agent and met her gaze. She smiled and nodded. "That was hard for you, wasn't it, Liv?"

He scowled, but didn't say a word. According to the United States Government Everett Eugene Howard died during the encounter with the Gallu, and in his place stood Sapphira Olivia Scott a young woman who hadn't existed a week ago and wouldn't exist until they processed the right forms. He folded his arms across his chest, his cheeks burning anew as they pressed into his soft, large breasts and sighed.

He'd chosen Sapphira, and he'd left the rest up to Van den Broeke. She'd even dubbed him 'Liv' stating that he looked more like a Liv than a Sapphira. His choice in moniker didn't seem to fit, but for some damn reason it made him all warm and tingly. It was damned unsettling.

The agent stopped at a place called Tease Me, Please Me and waved the other inside. Sapphira swallowed hard, eying the window display which featured mannequins wearing lacy bras and panties that looked too damned impractical, not to mention uncomfortable, for anyone to wear day to day. He saw the necessity for underwear even if the thought of it made him sick. He gritted his teeth, growled out a dozen curses under his breath and followed the agent inside. It was time to goddamned bra shopping.

The agent seemed to know where she was going, that much was clear, but as they moved deeper into the store the more uncertain she became. Her relief was clear through the bond when a saleswoman greeted them, but as the two conversed Sapphira's panic settled in. This wasn't right, it wasn't what he wanted. Dammit!

"Can I help you two find anything?"

"Yes, my friend had a little breast work done, and she'd like a fitting. She's self-conscious about it," Amelia smiled and glanced back over her shoulder at Sapphira.

Of course, she would have to say that.

His cheeks burned, as the saleswoman, led him away. She offered encouragement, and Everett might have found her to be endearing if the situation were a little different. When she led him within the fitting room, things got all the more awkward. Somehow she talked him into disrobing and he could only imagine his cheeks were a bright scarlet. Then again maybe not. Could you tell when a black person was blushing?

"My, I must say your doctor does excellent work. I would have never guessed, they look so natural."

Everett hemmed and hawed as the saleswoman smiled back at him. He wouldn't call his breasts natural, but they weren't implants, that much was for sure. "Yes, well they don't call the doc, the breast man of New Hebron for nothing," Sapphira said letting out a nervous laugh as the saleswoman eyed him.

She smiled again and glanced down at his chest. "Er, may I?"

Sapphira stood frozen in terror. He knew what the next step must entail, but the prospect seemed so wrong. He forced himself to nod though what he most wanted to do was run. The woman produced a tape measure from within her skirt pocket and took several measurements before disappearing from the little fitting room stall and Sapphira let out a sigh of relief.

"All right in there, Liv?" the agent's muffled voice came through the door and Sapphira jumped glaring at the door.

"This is humiliating," he said looking down at his cocoa-colored breasts and gritted his teeth. "This isn't who I am. Why the hell did you tell the saleswoman I'd had plastic surgery?"

"I'm sorry, I really am, it's the easiest explanation and as it keeps her from making the one conclusion, we're trying to avoid. This will be the worst part, if you can get through this, I promise it gets easier. She's coming back, please keep it up. You've done great playing along so far," Amelia replied and was silent. Though she did not speak, he experienced a warmth through their bond that spoke volumes.

A moment later the door, cracked back open, and the saleswoman came through holding a half a dozen pairs of bras in her hand.

Sapphira, let her have it trying on one after the other. With Amelia's comforting presence in the back of his head, somehow it didn't seem so bad.

Several hours later, a re-clothed Sapphira stepped out of the last shop, just a little haggard from the new onslaught against his masculinity. Undergarments had been just the start it and that alone had taken close to two hours. Buying an entire new wardrobe took much longer. It had been so time consuming, in fact, that most of the outlets in the mall had already closed up shop.

They'd been at it the entire day, only stopping long enough to purchase and consume a meal from the food court, but only after the agent assured him it did not count as his meal of choice. The agent had been patient, more patient, perhaps than her charge had deserved, but even she looked worn out by the time they had finished shopping.

She'd led the once old man from store to store, purchasing only items he approved, with only two key exceptions, a dress and a pair of flat dress shoes. Neither were frilly nor extravagant, but they were feminine. More so than the slacks, and t-shirts and blouses that composed the bulk of their purchases.

"You'll want something for special occasions," she'd said by way of explanation, but no matter how much he nodded and made a show at agreeing, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he'd ever wear a dress out in public.

The entire day had been miserable for all parties concerned, but there was a sense of anticipation bubbling within Sapphira. He'd spent the entire day being led into store after store and the entire process had left him terrified of what was to come. To distract himself, he'd been ruminating over where and what he would eat when the agent took him out for his promised meal.

He was a steak and potatoes sort of man and that was a prospect that seemed very appealing. He'd had an old favorite back in the day Murphy's Steakhouse, but it had long since closed its doors, the owners retired and passed away. To this day, it was the bar by which he compared all other steaks. Few had even come close, but even the crap he'd tasted in the food court had been more flavorful than anything he'd consumed in years. He had high hopes for the meal.

As they walked toward their exit, more and more stores were closing for the night, most times slamming security gates shut with more force than seemed necessary. The mall seemed quiet other than that, perhaps too quiet.

They were among the last out and as they came within sight of their exit, a scream permeated the air, echoing through the almost empty space and making it impossible to determine the source. Soon enough, the heard footsteps pounding against the tiled-floors and a man who was more than likely an exemplar judging from his size and the speed at which he came rushing toward them.

"Shit, it's Kwrump," Amelia grimaced and glanced back at her charge. "Get down."

Sapphira complied flinging his body behind a garbage can and dropping his arm full of bags without consideration for where they might go. She produced a little 9mm pistol from inside her coat, rounded on the aberrant and yelled at the top of her lungs. "Freeze, AEGIS!"

The man, stopped cocked his head sideways and grinned from ear to ear and came tearing toward her. "Kwrump smash!"

"Dammit," Amelia opened fire, and dove out of the way when he got close. Kwrump lumbered forward unable to stop his forward momentum and smashed through the security gate of one store, tearing through the reinforced metal as if someone had constructed it from twigs.

When he arose, blood smeared his chest and limbs, but it didn't seem to hinder or deter him as he lumbered forward once again. She continued firing, each bullet splattering into his chest, but despite the wounds he did not seem impeded. In fact, it seemed to make him angrier. The agent emptied her clip, discarded it, and popped in a replacement one from inside her jacket without looking at what she was doing. Sapphira knew the agent was very familiar with the weapon.

Kwrump tore though the mall, obliterating whatever lay in his path whether it was a bench or something larger, like a retail kiosk, nothing seemed to stop him and, worse yet, no matter how many bullets the agent pumped into him, he kept coming.

Sapphira saw this, understood that if he did not act, the agent and perhaps everyone else within the mall might die. He was unsure of his new powers or their true extent, but he knew with no doubt, that he could stop the rampaging menace. He hesitated, only a moment, afraid that his actions would reveal him as an exemplar and his new identity uncovered. Amelia's life was in danger that mattered more than anything.

He rose to his feet, not noticing when his hair shimmered and gleamed, in an instant changing color to the same brilliant sea-green as Ashtar's locks, nor did he seem aware that his clothing did the same, a plain blouse and jeans glistened and became a one-piece green and black suit complete with a cape and upon his face a simple black domino mask. Save for the hair it was all an illusion. Sapphira's mind, had generated an image of what he might look like in such a getup the moment he had learned he was an exemplar, influenced in part by his brief, but life-changing encounter with Ashtar, and fed by his fears of recognition his subconscious mind had brought that image to life.

"Stop!" He threw his hand out, and the giant did just that, freezing in place like a statue.

He gestured upward and Kwrump floated off of his feet and into the air above, his body still frozen in position. He hung there in the air murderous intent mirrored in his eyes, but even his mouth remained still. Sapphira, clenched his fists and approached the beast of a man a scowl marring his beautiful features.

"Sleep," he said the words with an edge in his voice and just like that the giant came crashing back down to the ground mobile, and even angrier than before.

In the blink of an eye, he was back on his feet and before Sapphira could even think to act, Kwrump had already pounced.

Official Report

Fairhaven Mall

New Hebron, California

With as much muscle Kwrump displayed on jos massive frame, a person might expect him to be slow moving, but he moved with the swiftness of an Olympic runner. He caught Sapphira off guard by his sudden charge and he came hurdling into him the moment he was back on his feet.

If he'd had a longer start, he would have hit the other exemplar with enough force to send him flying across the mall. As he had only been a few feet away, he'd only picked up enough momentum to send Sapphira tumbling to the ground. It was enough to knock the wind out of him and he went careening sideways into a nearby garbage bin.

Kwrump loomed over his victim, a grin stretch across his blood splattered face, and Sapphira moaned in pain and clutched at his chest. Had it not been for Van den Broeke, he might have met his end there that night.

Amy opened fire drawing Kwrump's attention away from Sapphira. It gave him the opportunity he needed to get away. Not recovered from the attack, he staggered forward teetering on his feet as Kwrump advanced on the agent. More gunfire followed, and he shook his head bringing both hands up to grip the sides of his head. The lights flared overhead, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. His head was throbbing, and he thought perhaps he might lose his lunch.

While Sapphira stood there in a disoriented haze Amelia emptied another clip into Kwrump's chest. Each bullet hit, producing splatters of blood every time, but somehow the giant never seemed to notice.

Though she was moving back the entire time Kwrump advancing toward her, he was gaining ground. Amy gritted her teeth, and reached into her jacket for another clip, but before she grasped hold, her aggressor charged forward and slammed into the agent pinning her against the wall. She screamed out as her left it threw her shoulder back and into the wall, producing a sharp crack.

Her gun clattered to the ground from numb fingers, and all she watched heart hammering in her chest as the aberrant pulled back his fist preparing for another strike. She closed her eyes, knowing such an attack from Kwrump meant almost certain death. When the blow never came, she opened her eyes only to find him standing there motionless his fist still pulled back.

Kwrump slid back, still frozen in position, and Amy fell to the ground clutching at her fractured shoulder. She blinked, confused, but comprehension dawned on her when Sapphira resplendent in his superhero garb stepped between the two.

"This ends now." Sapphira threw his hand out and Kwrump went soaring away, but he tightened his hand into a fist and the giant stopped hanging in the air, still in the same position he'd been in when he'd been so close to pummeling the agent.

Sapphira gritted his teeth and growled out a single word. This time putting every bit of force into it he could. "Sleep!"

Again, his command failed, and Kwrump fell slamming down a strong enough thump to crack the ceramic titles and shake the floor. This time, prepared for the possibility that his abilities would not respond, Sapphira did not hesitate, but rather readied himself for another attack from the giant.

Kwrump was back on his feet before the other exemplars were able to blink. Not one for planning strategies or thinking thoughts more complicated than 'Kwrump smash' or 'Kwrump bash' the giant was all too predictable. He came charging toward the pair of them smashing everything and anything that got in his way.

"Hey you big dumb brute! Over here," Sapphira called, waving both hands over his head just before he took off running. His telekinesis might have been unreliable, but his physical abilities seemed to work just fine. Both moved with a speed beyond that of any ordinary human. That being said. Kwrump was fast, and Sapphira was faster.

Kwrump took the bait coming up behind him as he led the other away from the injured agent. Sapphira led him down through the corridors past store after store before stopping in front of a large stone wall. He waited for the giant to come and once he did Sapphira leapt out of the way, Kwrump tried to backpedal, but with the momentum he'd already picked up it was impossible.

He smashed into it with such force that entire wall came crashing down around him in a cloud of dust and bricks. For a moment, Sapphira let a grin stretch across his face, believing he had, perhaps, defeated the other exemplar, but that smile faded as the dust cleared and Kwrump's gigantic frame rose from amongst the debris.

"Ah hell," Sapphira cursed between gritted teeth and took off running once again. This would not be as easy as he'd hoped.

Once again, Kwrump proved why he was so often referred to as an unstoppable force. No matter how much he bled, no matter how many times his opponent pounded him into the ground or riddled him full of holes he kept coming. Experts could not explain how or why, he continued on when by all rights he should have dropped dead dozens of times over. Even more baffling, every time he appeared he seemed to disappear into thin air a short time thereafter. Even Sapphira, who tried his best to avoid anything or anything to do with Exemplars, knew of Kwrump.

The longer the two fought, the more Sapphira became convinced that he would have to try something a little less conventional. He was already so far out of his realm of expertise that he'd run out of ideas. If only he could read the other's mind and...

Wait? Could he?

The great brute lurched forward, and Sapphira held his hand out and licked his lips. He reached out, but nothing happened. He dodged a series of swinging swipes from the giant and turned to watch him go barreling past.

Gunfire blared from across the room. Amelia, retrieved her weapon, somehow reloaded it with only one arm and was using the back of the bench to help level the weapon as she took aim. Kwrump came to a sliding stop and watched the Agent pepper him with gunfire. The giant glanced back at the Sapphira and back to Van den Broeke.

Sapphira focused, clearing his mind and taking a deep breath. Kwrump's hesitation gave him the opportunity he needed to steady his thoughts and bring them under control. It was difficult with his heart hammering inside his chest and his hands shaking, but somehow he managed it. All at once, his awareness came into sharp focus and he became aware, not just Amelia's feelings, but those of Kwrump, a young man and woman who'd spent the entire confrontation hiding inside a mall kiosk, and a pair of security guards one injured and the other frozen in terror.

Sapphira moved forward, not once realizing that his feet left the ground and that he was hovering just a few inches above it, and held his hands out. From Kwrump he sensed new resolve, and determination and when he lurched into motion toward him, it did not surprise Sapphira.

The longer Sapphira read his emotions, the less he became convinced he was dealing with a thinking reasoning man. His emotions though powerful, were almost infant-like in their simplicity. He could make decisions and even reason out simple problems, but the rage that fueled him was all consuming. Whoever or whatever this brute was, he was not acting on a rational level. All he wanted to do was destroy and cause mayhem. He needed to stop him, innocent lives were at stake.

Sapphira's mind flashed to the night of his daughters death, watching her die while he bled out on the ground beside her. Over the years, he'd played the events over and over in his mind so many times he'd lost count, wondering if there was something more he might have done. If he had, perhaps, Clara would still be alive that day. Here, he saw an opportunity to prevent even more death.

His hands still extended Sapphira reached out, digging deeper. He gasped startled by the intensity of what he found within. The Giant's thoughts were almost too primitive, but the rage that fueled him burned so bright it was almost inhuman. There would be no calming the malevolence within this creature. They would have to snuff it out. Not through use of violence that fueled him and made him stronger. They must use other means, but as he strained his mind, he could think of no way to defeat the giant.

Again, he used his telekinesis to halt Kwrump and lift him from the ground. Moving across the room he met the brute's gaze and turned back to the agent, between gritted teeth, sweat beading down his face. "I think, maybe, I can hold him like this for a while, but you need to call for backup."

Amelia grunted in pain, dropped her gun and slipped a hand inside her jacket. She produced her phone and bit her lip. "Already. Done."

The agent was in a great deal of pain. Sapphira suspected adrenaline may have been what allowed her to open fire on the other Exemplar, but now it had faded, she didn't look like she'd be much help in a fight. She clutched at her shoulder, and stared into the open space between them, her teeth gritted, and sweat dripping down her brow in great rivulets.

Sapphira, lipped his licks, shook his head and focused all his attention on Kwrump. Short of defeating him for good, it was up to him to keep the brute in line until back up arrived. He only hoped his powers didn't fail him again and unleash Kwrump. If that happened, he shuddered, there was no telling what might happen.

By then all the denizens of the mall had fled, save for Amy and Sapphira. Had it not been for her injury, the agent would have stopped them before they left or else gotten their information so they could be contacted later, but she couldn't string two words together let alone form a coherent sentence.

When help arrived, Sapphira focused on holding the giant with single-minded determination, stood in place. Sweat dribbled down his face, rolling down his forehead and stinging his eyes. Somehow, he kept them open, never removing his gaze from the giant, daring to blink or budging a single muscle. It was all he could do to keep Kwrump held in place, but somehow he managed.

Three armed agents burst into the scene, each armed with semi-automatic weapons and looked ready to give hell to whoever or whatever stood in their path. Sapphira saw them out of the corner of his eye and he did not dare turn to get a better look for fear of breaking his concentration. It wasn't until the foremost approached that he realized that the man was, in fact, Matthews.

"Well," he said, with his too-deep voice, holstered his weapon, slipped both hands in his pockets and turned to eye Sapphira. "You seem to have everything under control Miss Scott."

Sapphira scowled and shook his head, but did not turn away from his captive. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. If you know any way to subdue this bastard, I'm all ears."

"We haven't had much success dealing with Kwrump. He appears every couple of months and wreaks havoc and disappears just as suddenly. I believe it's something he and Chemosh would seem to have in common."

"You're not suggesting a connection, between... Kwrump and Chemosh, are you?" Sapphira risked a glance at the other exemplar, panting between words. It was getting harder and hard to hold the brute in place.

"No." Matthews shook his head. "Kwrump seems to exist to wreak havoc and nothing more. He does not ally himself with other exemplars he just destroys everything in his path. Chemosh is every bit as destructive, yes, but he seems to have a motive that goes beyond simple destruction."

Sapphira, bit his lip nodded and returned all his attention to Kwrump and narrowed his gaze. If these dumb shits with AEGIS were unable to contain such a threat, then it fell to him to put an end to his rampage. In his previous life, and in particular his early years, Everett Howard had never been one to solve his problems with his wit. He had been the sort to confront problems head on, letting his passions lead him, which had gotten him in trouble more than once in his many years. What he needed to do was something more subtle, something which was beyond him.

Marveling that such a simple creature would necessitate such deep reflection, he stood there staring at the big brute for the longest time, trying so hard to come up with a solution. The longer he held on the more difficult it became and he worried he was loosing his concentration.

The solution came to him as if whispered upon the wind. It was a memory from the distant past, something his mother had been so fond of saying. He had never put much thought into those words, but somehow they held a particular resonance with him in that moment and all at once he knew what he had to do.

'If you can't control the current of the river, then don't fight it, just go where it takes you.'

He reached out again touching Kwrump's primitive mind. This time, at the brink of collapsing from the exhaustion, the sheer force of his malevolence almost overwhelmed him, but he gritted his teeth and fought to keep hold.

The reason his previous efforts had failed was that he had attempted to force his will upon Kwrump and this was a creature he could not force or coerce. Instead, he did the one thing all his instincts were screaming at him not to do. He released all his anger and hate and cleared his mind.

All at once, the battle against the malevolence within Kwrump ended. His desire for destruction was still there, but it no longer impeded Sapphira. He reached deep into the others' mind, delving past all the chaos and anger and found something that didn't belong, another presence. He understood how to stop the great brute. The other mind, was distant, separate from Kwrump, but also linked.

He started off slow, building a barrier between the pair of consciousnesses, layer by layer. He did not understand, what he was doing or if it would even work, but he had to try. Kwrump let out a low moan and thrashed about, but he remained in the air. A moment later as the last few pieces of the barrier snapped into place Kwrump let out an intense agonizing scream and collapsed to the ground.

Sapphira's connection to his mind, came to a very abrupt end as his almost eight-foot frame bulged and swelled with violent intensity. For the briefest of seconds, his remains, now a huge unidentifiable flesh-colored and gelatinous husk, wobbled about upon the ceramic tiles and then it exploded outward over four hundred pounds of clear liquid splattering in a wide radius around where his body had lain.

Sapphira lifted his hands up, just in time to keep the substance from splattering his face and spun about to face Matthews who had been close enough to the watery explosion that it had drenched him. When he glanced back at the spot where the great brute had lain, nothing remained save a puddle of liquid.

"That was unexpected." Matthews eyed Kwrump's remains and turned back to Sapphira who stood there mouth agape staring at the puddle of, what appeared to be, water with unblinking eyes.

"What the Sam Hill was that?" Sapphira asked rounding on Matthews who's look of nonchalance seemed out of place.

"I should think, you would seem to be the better person to answer that question." Matthews raised a single eyebrow and let the barest hint of a smile touch his face.

Everett scowled at the man and gritted his teeth all the while muttered under his breath. Matthews raised his eyebrows more than once during Everett's long tirade of mumbled slurs and insults, but did not speak a word.

Everett spit out the last of his vitriol and Matthews shook his head and watched him go traipsing off toward Van den Broeke. Matthews wasn't fond of Sapphira's brand of racism, but he would not let the former old man get to him.

He furrowed his brows, turned away from him and strolled toward what remained of Kwrump.

Matthews wasn't the most expressive fellow to begin with, and while many of the agents who worked below him respected him, some saw him as a cold and distant figure. It wasn't so much that he was heartless, but he believed, that being their superior required he maintained a professional distance.

Matthews knelt down produced a standard-issue vial, and the accompanying set a of vinyl gloves from within his tactical vest. He retrieved a sample, careful not to get any on himself and slipped the tube and its contents back inside.

The liquid looked like water and had no discernible scent, but if Matthews had learned anything in his time with AEGIS, was that, where exemplars were concerned, when something looked and smelled ordinary, it seldom was the case.

The water, for lack of more definite label, must hold a clue as to Kwrump's nature or at least his death. Matthews stood and glanced back over toward the exemplar now known as Sapphira Scott and eyed the young woman with lips pursed.

His breath caught in his throat as he marveled at her beauty and for a moment he let himself forget who the other exemplar was. She looked so innocent, so pure, and because they appeared so close in age he was reminded of his daughter. When he remembered who the girl really was, he tasted bile in his throat. It made him sick. Not because, he had once been a man, but because of who he was at the core of his being.

His superiors were right to worry about Scott and, while he shared their concerns, he had been with the agency long enough to have seen the after effects of dozens of Kwrump-related attacks. If Sapphira had not been present, the brute might have killed dozens, including Van den Broeke. Some would call such actions heroic, but Matthews wasn't so certain if that label fit.

Sapphira may have been acting out of self-preservation for all he knew, but he would give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being. He would keep a close eye on Scott. His attitudes were a continued concern and he more than justified such attention, but if he had been acting out of altruism than it suggested there may be something more to him than met the eye.

He might get better insight from him when he took his statement, but that would come later. The other agents on scene would handle the little details. For now, Agent Van den Broeke was his primary concern.

He adjusted his tie and moved toward the cluster of people centered around Amy. Two agents stood guard, following procedure in a hostile environment and keeping a perimeter around her, a third had knelt down beside her on the opposing side from Sapphira still adorned in his exemplar accruements, eying the exemplar with wide eyes. Matthews, paused pondering the costume. AEGIS did not issue superhero garb, nor did the encourage exemplars to don it. He doubted that Scott had taken or even had the time, to stitch together such an outfit, nor did he surmise he would want to. It seemed likely that this was a byproduct of his abilities.

He resumed walking and knelt down in front of Van den Broeke once close enough. "How are you doing, Agent?"

Amelia, looked up at him, her face glistening with sweat and grunted. "I've been better."

"Amelia," Sapphira put a hand on her good shoulder. "I'm sorry, if I hadn't fouled-up none of this would have happened."

"Not your fault," she gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut.

"Agent," Matthews said straining to keep his voice even. "An ambulance should be here soon.

"Just tell me when they come."

She exhaled one long breath and then all the strain in her face melted away as she faded into unconsciousness. Sapphira, slipped a hand over the side of her neck below her jawline attempting to check for a pulse, but, before his fingers found the right spot, he froze. It happened without warning, the connection between the agent and her charge flared to brilliant incandescent life.

Her mind, seemed distant and far removed, almost absent since she had blacked out, but he became aware of her in ways he hadn't before. He felt her heart beating, her lungs fill with air, her blood pumping inside her chest, and so much more. He sensed her injuries, foremost among them her shoulder. Kwrump's attack had fractured her entire shoulder, not just the collarbone.

He didn't even know what he was doing until his hands had gripped hold of the Amelia's shoulder. The agents arrayed around them cried out, attempting to dislodge Sapphira, but only one of them was an exemplar and none had strength anywhere approaching his. Warmth spreading out from his hands, followed by a sharp burst of pain. Blinding white-light filled his vision.

Her bones fused back together, piece by piece, melding back together with searing white-hot heat. It was no small mercy that the agent had lost consciousness, she would have experienced pain the like of which she had never experienced in her life. Sapphira was not so lucky and caught the full brunt. He remained awake, just long enough to sense the Agent herself returning to consciousness, before succumbing to the pain himself and descending into darkness.

Official Report

427 Evergreen Terrace

New Hebron, California

Sapphira's eyes snapped open, and he sat bolt upright fists swinging, but his blows only met empty air. Which was fortunate because given his enhanced strength he might have injured someone. He sat there panting for a moment, then closed his eyes and took slow deliberate breaths.

Memories of Kwrump's attack were still vivid in his mind, and remembrances of the fight dominated his dreams. He'd even re-witnessed his daughter's death, but this time the great brute of an exemplar had been the one to kill her.

He let his eyes flutter back open, sighed, shook the hair out of his face and glanced down at his chest. His breasts were large and firm, the that damn near any woman would be envious and most any man would love to get his hands on. He cupped them, sighed again, and slid his hands down the side of his body.

Most women these days seemed to think they needed to starve themselves, to be beautiful, but Everett never understood that line of thinking. Women had curves for a reason why try to deny what nature had given them? His new form, was the sort any man would drool over. He had curves in all the right places, not that he was overweight.

That didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it only made the whole thing worse.

He stood, pulling the shirt he'd slept in over his head with both hands, unfastened the hooks on his bra and moved across the room. When he reached the opposite wall, he stopped in front of the full-length mirror that donned the wall. The woman who looked back at him, didn't resemble the old Everett Howard, in any sense of the word. The only way in which her appearance mirrored his image of himself was the scowl that marred her beautiful features.

He cupped his bare breasts and glanced toward the door, worried that Amelia might intrude upon his solitude, but the door remained closed. He still wasn't sure how to process the events of the previous night, he'd inherited a set of powerful abilities from Ashtar, but they were unreliable and difficult to control.

After, he'd healed the agent, they'd both sent escorted off to the hospital, and upon waking from unconsciousness the doctor informed him they were both in perfect health. The oddest part was that Amy's shoulder showed no sign Kwrump broke it.

It was late when they'd arrived back at Amelia's place and by then the Agent had just enough presence of mind to show him to his room before the two of them both collapsed into their respective beds in exhausted heaps.

He couldn't guess the time, he saw no clock and had yet to acquire a wristwatch, but if the sunlight spilling into the room through the blinds was any sign, it was well into late morning. In over fifty years he hadn't slept past seven on more than a few occasions.

He glared at his reflection one final time, re-clothed himself, minus the brazier, retrieve a fresh outfit from the shopping bags he'd thrown in the corner before slipping out of the room. He came face to face with Amelia, who had a mug of coffee clutched in her delicate hands.

"God Dammit" She exclaimed and took a few furtive steps back avoiding splattering the front of her shirt with coffee. "Didn't expect you to be up. I was just about to check in on you."

"Sorry if I startled you," he said, and scratched the back of his neck and grimaced, almost yelping, as his nails tore into his soft skin.

"Don't worry about it. I'm a little extra jumpy after last night. There's a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen if you're interested," she said throwing a thumb over her shoulder, motioning down the hallway.

"Gave up coffee years ago," he muttered under his breath and then added, "High-blood pressure" as an explanation, but paused when he realized that didn't apply to him any more.

He bit his lip, his cheeks burn as he looked about the hallway, before holding up his chosen apparel for the agent to see. "I'd love some, but, first, if you don't mind, I always start my day out with a nice hot shower."

She took a sip from her mug and nodded to the door on her left. "Knock yourself out. Bathroom's just right there, there are clean towels on the right side of closet and fresh soap in the bottom drawer of the vanity. You can even use my shampoo if you don't mind smelling like lavender meadows."

Sapphira watched the agent take another sip from her mug and scuttle down the hallway. When she'd disappeared from view, he pushed the bathroom door open and swung it shut behind him.

He closed his eyes and pulled his shirt over his head. He tried not to focus on the way his breasts jiggled when the fabric caught on them, but he might as well have tried to stop breathing. His eyes snapped back open and he let the shirt fall from his fingers.

He pursed his lips as his hands slipped around the waistband of his jeans. The button and zipper were familiar enough, but as he slid the pants down from his waist, he damn well saw a difference. He'd never, in his many years, worn a pair of slacks that were so form fitting. The saleswoman at the shop had called the damned things skinny jeans, and he understood why.

It took more work getting them off than he was accustomed. He had to guide them down his hips and legs, all the while hopping back and forth, before he pulled them free. A set of simple white panties followed, falling free with far more ease, something for which he was grateful.

He looked down at the pile of clothes on the ground scowled at them and glanced at himself in the mirror. His eyes took in the site of his erect nipples, he scowled and folded his arms across his chest. The exemplar shivered, retrieved a bar of soap and a wash cloth from inside the closet and stepped into the shower, sliding the frosted door shut behind him.

He fumbled with the unfamiliar faucet, at first, but steaming hot water rained down on him in no time. It wasn't the first shower he'd taken since being transformed, but it was different in one significant way. Before, he'd clenched his eyes shut throughout most of the process and struggled hard to pretend that everything was as it should be. This time, he was letting reality setting in. He was stuck as a woman. He'd best familiarize himself with his new anatomy as much as it galled him to admit, even if it was just to himself.

He glanced down at his breasts and frowned, his heart pounding inside his chest. It was bizarre cruel twist of fate that had put him in this situation to begin with and try as he might he couldn't come to terms with it.

He lathered his breasts and forcing his hand to make slow and methodical movements. They jiggled each time he brushed against them or he scrubbed hard enough. It was an odd sensation, but one with which he would have to become accustomed. He might have been a woman, but goddamnit, if he would be a sissy crybaby about it.

When he finished, he moved his hand away from his breast, moving up and down his body, caressing every curve and every inch of his voluptuous new form. As he did so, he became more and more aware of something that was unexpected. His explorations aroused him.

His sex drive had been, for the most part, non-existent for over a decade and now to have it return with such intensity, and worse, in such a strange new way, went beyond disconcerting.

Without even realizing what his hands were doing, he found that his index and middle fingers were inches from his vaginal cavity. He froze, biting his lips and his heart still hammering inside his chest.

What the hell was he doing?

He almost stopped altogether, but as he stood there, warm water splattering upon his now erect breasts, he had a thought. One which made his cheeks burn, all the more.

What if Amelia were to walk in on him?

That didn't seem to be a showstopper. His heart beat harder and he slipped his fingers inside the opening and shivered at the sensation. He moaned and closed his eyes calling out the agents name.

What would have been a quick and nonsexual self-exploratory shower became much more prolonged and much more erotic affair. He became lost to the slow sensual movements of his hands, one plunging fingers in and out of his opening the other, rubbing his nipples.

He might have gone on for hours, if it weren't for a series of dull thuds against the hollow bathroom door, that snapped him out of his masturbatory explorations.

"Liv, you all right, in there?" Amelia's voice called, muffled and dull, through the door.

"Y-yeah," he called back, but his voice faltered. He cleared his throat jerking both hands away from his body.

What the hell had gotten into him?

"I'll be out in a minute," he called again and gritted his teeth forcing away all thoughts of the agent out of his mind.

Given her vicinity that proved to be difficult, but he steadied his breath and concentrated on finishing his shower. As hard as that proved to be the humiliation at being found out, was more than enough incentive to keep him from giving it another go.

When Sapphira stepped out from the shower he dressed himself. He didn't glance in the mirror or pause, even when he experienced the still unfamiliar sensation of an emptiness between his legs when he pulled his panties into place or his breasts pushing against the fabric of his t-shirt.

Once dressed, he pulled his hair out of his shirt, the wet strands dampening the shoulders and back of the blouse. He had been an old-fashioned kind of man, but he had been a single-father raising a daughter by himself. He knew what was necessary to maintain longer tresses like the ones he now sported. Soon, he told himself, he would get a haircut and get his locks shorn down to a length just a little easier to maintain.

With a sigh, he glanced at the mirror and searched through Amelia's vanity. There he found what was looking for, a brush. He gritted his teeth and glared at the dark-skinned woman in the mirror, one more time, before he got to work. As much as he hated what he saw, he wasn't about to let his hair get tangled and matted. He'd never experienced it himself, but, as a single father, he had a good idea, from experiences with his daughter, just how unpleasant that might be.

Not long after Sapphira, dressed, hair brushed and sporting a towel around his head stepped out of the bathroom. He felt his cheeks burning and feared the agent might take notice, assuming it was even visible on his dark cheeks, but then he realized that it was a moot point. She must have sensed his emotions through the bond, he had no hope of hiding such things from her.

She seemed almost amused when he stepped into the kitchen. Her face was blank, but there was enough mirth being projected through the bond, that Sapphira was certain, that Amelia knew what he'd been up to in the shower. He thanked his lucky stars they could not read one another's thoughts. It would be so much more problematic and embarrassing for both parties involved.

He avoided making eye contact, instead spotting and moving toward the coffee maker. He turned his back to the agent and cast his eyes about. A rack under the cupboard held the mugs, and he took a moment to compose himself as he retrieved a cup and poured himself a drink.

He gripped the mug in both hands, sighed and turned to face Amy who had seated herself at a little dinette just a few feet away. He paused, gritted his teeth, and sat across from the agent, not daring to meet her gaze.

His hands slid across the table, gripping hold of the sugar dispenser and was about to pull it toward himself, when a hand reached out and clasped itself around his. He jumped and jerked back, his seat sliding back several inches and looked up meet Amy's gaze.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Amelia smiled, pulled her hands back and slid them under the table.

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled under his breath and shook his head as the agent's face stretch into a smile. He paused, his heart leap in his throat, struck by just how pretty she was when her face lit up. He licked his lips and frowned. "About what happened when I was in the showe–"

Amy winced, held both hands up and Sapphira stopped mid-word staring back at her with wide eyes.

"Please, I have a good idea what you were up to and what you do when you're alone is your business. Just, do me a favor, let's not talk about it. This whole thing is strange enough without adding that discussion to the equation. If either one of us does it, we don't talk about it, okay?"

"Okay." Sapphira nodded and looked down before snatching up the sugar dispenser and pouring far too much of the sweetener inside. Sapphira intended to never do it again, but was just a little disconcerted to find that despite his resolve a considerable part of him wanted another go at it.

"Thank you, by the way, for the mall, if you hadn't healed me... Well, let's say the prospect of having my arm in a damn sling for weeks, if not months, on end doesn't sound pleasant," she said staring into her empty mug.

"And if you hadn't shot that bastard when he was coming at me, I might be six-feet under the ground right now. I think we're even," he answered back bring the coffee cup up to take a long sip and almost spitting it out when his mouth filled with its saccharine-sweet tang. Was it him, or did the brew taste a little funny? He might have gotten a little over-zealous with the sugar, but something told him that wasn't it. Then he realized, he had a different mouth, with different taste buds. No wonder it tasted strange.

The agent nodded and smiled back at him. She thought of mentioning that he had saved her from Kwrump too, but pursed her lips and kept her mouth shut. She got the sense he would downplay any such response by the other exemplar.

"So." She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "We need to talk about your belongings from your previous life."

He blinked and leaned back in his seat. "You don't mean to say I can keep some of them, do you? I thought the whole point was to make a new life for myself."

"It is, but AEGIS isn't heartless, the agency realizes that sometimes people need a piece of the past to hold on to before they can move on to their future," she replied smiling back at him. "We've made arrangements to have your assets transferred to your new identity, minus some expenses. From what I understand you have quite the nest-egg, which should help you re-build your life."

"Expenses?" He leaned forward and gritted his teeth. "What expenses?"

"Did you read the papers you signed? It was all listed in the contract. You don't think AEGIS is a charity, do you? We can only do so much with the money the government gives us. We have funds set aside for those who cannot pay themselves, but even then without the help of certain, wealthy beneficiaries we wouldn't even have that. For people like you, who have the money, it falls to you to flip the bill."

Everett fell back into his seat and shook his head. He might have questioned the legality of what the agent had said, but he knew it was a moot point.

Everett Howard was dead, speaking from a legal standpoint, his property should have gone to his closest living relative. Though he liked the idea of Hailey inheriting his possessions, he was a realist and realized that he needed funds to start a new life. AEGIS would not flip the bill when there was already money available. Besides, they were a government agency, if they were doing it, they'd make it legal.

"I get your point," he ran his hands through his thick tresses and folded his arms across his chest. "When do we get this show on the road?"

"Today, if you want. I can be ready inside an hour. The sooner we get this done with the better."

Sapphira nodded. "All right, let's get to it then."

Sapphira grimaced and shivered as a gust of cold air greeted him. He climbed out of the agent's Yamato Ante and glanced back at the vehicle with a shake of his head. Everything about the car exuded femininity, from the too-quiet whirr of the engine to the dark shade of violet. It was not a man's car, at least not in Sapphira's mind and for someone who'd had his masculinity assaulted it was like he'd climbed out of the personification of his transformed body.

"Damn hybrids," he grumbled under his breath as he watched Amelia walk around the car toward him.

The agent shivered and tucked both hands into her coat pocket. "Damn it's cold."

Sapphira nodded, but didn't reply, electing instead to crane his neck around to look up at his old apartment building. It had only been a few days since he'd last stepped inside, but it seemed like much longer. He glanced at the agent as she approached and without missing a beat stepped in sync beside her.

He felt his eyes widen as he approached, realizing the extent to which his eyesight had failed him in his twilight years as got a better look at the building. The place was far more run down than he'd ever remembered. He gritted his teeth and moved past the dirt stained windows and discolored walls. In its heyday the apartment complex had been for middle-income families, but the area had fallen on hard times, like most of the city and as a result had become host to a much lower income bracket. Like it or not that also meant a higher crime rate.

Sapphira had only come to live there within the last few years and not for, what one would expect to be, the most obvious reasons. Money was not an issue and hadn't been for a long time.

The agent moved forward, but Sapphira stopped, remembering the time on the Ante's dash and moved in the exact opposite direction with quick, furtive steps. If he hurried maybe he could...

He never finished the thought, but rather took off running, feeling his heart hammering inside his chest as he rounded the corner. Amelia called after him and dashed forward in pursuit, but with his enhanced capabilities, she stood little chance of keeping up.

He ran for two blocks and stopped when he caught sight of the University. He paused, long enough to marvel he wasn't winded at all, and glanced across the busy intersection. The light changed, and he stepped forward choosing his steps as he made his way across the street.

Located just a few blocks south of one of the worst crime areas in all of California, New Hebron State University was also, one of the two rated schools in the state. It was his old apartment building vicinity to the college, not its rental cost or even its proximity to his daughter's place of death, that had attracted him to the area.

He heard Van Den Broeke, coming but didn't pause or wait for her. The time for explanations would come, but there was a chance he could catch site of his intended target before she made her way into the building. Sure enough, a familiar vehicle appeared rewarding his efforts. When he saw that familiar Yellow Secura pull into the school's parking lot, he a smile stretch across his face.

"Hailey," he whispered the girl's name, fighting back tears as he watched her climb out of the car and make her way into the school, oblivious that he was watching.

"Who?"

Sapphira spun around to face the agent who was standing there blank expression on her face and breathing only a little heavier than usual. To have caught up and only seem the slightest bit winded, Amy must have been in amazing shape.

The exemplar swallowed hard and craned his neck around just in time to watch the girl step inside the school and let out a long sigh before returning all his attention to the agent. Amy folded her arms across her chest, arched an eyebrow and gritted her teeth. "Liv, an explanation would be nice."

"Hailey's my granddaughter," he shook his head and walked back the way they'd come.

"Your granddaughter?" The agent asked, lurching forward so she could step in sync with the other exemplar. "You know it would be inappropriate for you to ma–"

"She doesn't know me from a can of paint!" He snapped back at her before she complete her statement.

With a sigh, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and shook his head before they snapped back open and he fixed his gaze on the agent. "Hailey was raised by her father's parents. Her dad was pretty much useless... He got himself killed, in some work place accident, after my Clara become pregnant, but his mother and father seemed to be decent enough folk and a whole hell of a lot younger. After that bastard killed my daughter and put a bullet in my hip, I couldn't get around. So they–"

"Raised her," Amelia finished this time, she was the one to cut Sapphira short.

Sapphira nodded his lips trembling as he fought back tears. What the hell was wrong with him? Damn female hormones were turning him into a blubbering fool. He cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice as he resumed speaking. Once or twice his voice wavered, and he knew he had failed to mask the pain. The agent, was a sharp one, and he doubted she'd missed it. She said nothing.

"I used to write to her, when she was little, but I got no response and one day, I received a package in the mail. Her other grandparents had sent back every single damn letter unopened. I gave up after that. When she got older, and I figured she was old enough to start college, I hired a private eye and sure enough, I found out she was going to school here," he said throwing a thumb over his shoulder without looking back.

"I took it out into my head I would become a presence in her life. I thought maybe with my final few years, I could find some happiness again. So, I moved my ass out here, found an apartment, even went so far to buy her some flowers, but then I saw her..." He shook his head and felt his lips tremble. "She looks just like her mother, could damn well be her twin. I've tried damn near a dozen times and I always chicken out. So, I memorized her routine and I keep watch over her. At least, I can make sure she stays safe. It's more than I ever did for her mother."

In other circumstances, Amelia might have found the statement disquieting and his behavior stalker-esque, but she could sense nothing but good intentions from the other exemplar. A fear which she understood all too well motivated him. She had no one in this world, Alex the closest thing she'd ever found to a soul mate had left her, her parents and siblings had disavowed any relation to her and her aunt, the one relative who had cared for her, had passed away just a few years ago.

She put a hand on Sapphira's shoulder and smiled. "It's hard, I know."

They both paused and looked into one another's eyes. For the briefest of moments, the two understood each other at a level that would never have been possible without their bond. Both saw within one another, a very lonely soul. Each had lost so much and both had had their lives changed by factors neither could control.

Sapphira coughed and through his hand over his shoulder, this time back toward the apartment building. "We gonna do this thing or not?"

"Yeah," Amelia nodded and cleared her throat. "Come on."

"To be honest, I'm kinda surprised that old bastard had anyone in his life who'd want any of his shit." Tom Corden, the super grimaced craning his neck back to glance at the two women.

Sapphira gritted his teeth and glared at the man, but didn't say a word. He knew if he allowed himself to speak, he'd end up giving his identity away. Not that he cared much for the Tom, he was a layabout who spent more time avoiding the tenants than doing his damn job and the two had shared a mutual dislike almost from the moment they'd met.

The elevators had broken down, which, considering the building's age they did regularly. A matter which Sapphira well knew and Tom, who was oblivious to Sapphira's identity, was intent on telling them. So, the building superintendent led them up the stairwell. Before his transformation, Sapphira could not use the stairs. In those instances where the elevators weren't working he'd stayed inside and paid to have his groceries delivered.

Tom babbled on, which was pretty well in keeping with what Sapphira expected out of the man. "Most of the building's tenants hated the man. Honestly, as often as he butted heads with the other tenants, I'm a little surprised the owner never booted him out. Would have saved me a lot of headaches. I'm just glad he's out of my hair."

Sapphira balled his fist up, ready to strike the man from behind, but the agent gripped a hand on his shoulder and he clenched a fist around the handrail instead. He paused glared up at the man as he continued to ascend the stairs and only followed when Tom glanced back down the stairwell at them. When he resumed, he didn't take notice of the hand-print left by his fist in the aluminum, or the bits of paint that flaked away when he started back up the stairwell, but the agent did.

Amelia, pursed her lips and kept her hand gripped on the other exemplar's shoulder, squeezed a final time, which Sapphira interpreted as a warning and let her hand slide away.

"Seems a little strange, you'd think this granddaughter would have visited Mr. Howard at least once or twice over the years," Tom paused at the top of the stairs waiting for the two women to catch up.

"I can't comment," Amy said meeting his gaze once they'd reached the top. "My client did not disclose what manner of relationship he had with his grandfather."

Tom shook his head and turned away mumbling something under his breath about 'lawyers'. Amelia pursed her lips and exchanged glanced with Sapphira before the pair of them followed the little man. Finally, he led them to Everett's apartment, not hesitating once as he swung the door open and showed them inside.

"You two gonna be all right, going at this alone? Ms. Atkins in three-eleven, has got a clogged bath drain she wants me to look at."

Amelia nodded and folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, Mrs. Corden, I believe we should be just fine."

"Uh, that's just three doors down if you need anything," He threw thumb and over his shoulder and only lingered long enough to get a nod of acknowledgement from Amelia before departing.

"Layabout." Once the door had shut behind him Sapphira shook his fist at it and gritted his teeth, glancing over his shoulder at Amelia. "Only reason he's so eager to get to Atkins place is 'cause he's got a thing for her. Don't blame him if I were a little younger..." He paused and gritted his teeth and glanced down at his breasts cheeks burning bright. "Well, if I were a little more male, at least, I would be barking up her tree too. A comely young widow like that--"

"That's not relevant, is it?" Amelia folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. She seemed impatient and uncomfortable through the bond and he got the sense she wanted to be anywhere, but there. "Why don't we get this over and done with?"

"Believe me, I'm not looking forward to this anymore than you are. I'm ready to get underway, if you're done playing at being the executor of my estate."

Amelia grimaced and shook her head. Sapphira was not the first nor the last AEGIS had given a new identity. Presenting herself as a lawyer acting as Everett Howard's executor was the modus operandi in such a scenario, but that didn't mean she had to like it. When her aunt had passed away Amy had acted as executor and heir to most of her estates, and it hadn't sat over well with the rest of the family. This whole thing was bringing back a lot of unpleasant memories.

She sighed and nodded. She'd briefed Sapphira on what they would do, including her brief stint at play acting as the lawyer of the 'deceased'. So, there wasn't much to do, but get to work. They were taking inventory of Everett Howard's estates, and while, yes, they were cataloging his belongings. They would also sort through them and determining which items he wanted, and AEGIS would allow him and those which they would dispose or, in which, he'd pass along to his granddaughter.

Sapphira did not waste time, moving through the apartment and find his way through the living room and into the adjoining bedroom. Amelia hesitated watching him move and once he had disappeared cast her eyes around the place. Everett Howard's living quarters were tidy, but more than that, they were spartan and lacking a woman's touch.

A recliner, an entertainment center with television, and a single tv tray were the only pieces of furniture. It was the home of a man unaccustomed to company. Everett Howard had lived a very lonely existence. The only decorations which stood out like a sour thumb were several dozens photos of two women. If their clothing styles had not been so dissimilar, styles separated by decades, she might have assumed they were sisters. Instead, she realized they must have been Everett's daughter and his wife.

She bit her lip, glanced over her shoulder and followed Sapphira into the bedroom. There would be no putting this off, no matter how much she wished it were over.