The Ancient Race, the Elder's failed creations, were peaceful, gentle, loving creatures, but they had little ambition. They spent most of their time sitting silently inside their meditation room on the twelfth floor of the Tower of the Chosen, chanting quietly to themselves and staring at their hands in a state of religious bliss. Their immense psychic power, constrained as it was to such lazy bodies and minds, served little purpose for the Chosen Ones beyond their passive generation of static energy fields that were being exploited for the creation of a wide range of psychic materials including metals, plastics, and jewelry.

The Ancient Ones had little to do, and they liked it that way. The only real interruption to their solemn meditation came when Miss Planner or one of her lackeys came down to swap out their outfits and accessories for new ones (which, designed as they were for maximum utilization of their auric energy fields, made them look like a group of bizarre alien invaders). But, limited as their humble little lives were, the Ancient Ones weren’t completely isolated from the rest of the world. They had a few precious friends at the Tower who came to visit them frequently, some of whom were quite captivated by them.

"Ladath? Elmath? I brought candy... do you want some?"

A tiny figure in a small black cloak opened the doors to the meditation room. The Ancient Ones stopped chanting and turned their heads towards the doorway with a collective intake of breath. The nine-year old Gabby scrambled inside and held out the bag containing the sweets. Elmath, a female Ancient One wearing a big gaudy golden necklace, slowly walked over to receive the bag. She opened it, removed one of the candies and popped it into her mouth, then thanked the generous little girl with jet-black hair a warm smile and a pat on the head.

"Thank you, child. Come, wear Planner's clothing and sit with us. Our spirits grow heavy."

Gabby did as the Ancient One said, slipping a strange squid-shaped helmet over her head from a pile in the corner and a big plastic poncho-like thing over her shoulders. She was a little smaller than a fully-grown Ancient One, so the helmet hung awkwardly on her tiny head and the poncho's sleeves hung over her hands like a curtain of black plastic.

"Is something bothering you?" said Gabby.
"The Sages. They are angry."

Elmath looked down. Her face darkened and the smile faded from her lips. Gabby sat nervously beside her.

"Do you know why?" asked Gabby quietly.
"No," she replied. "The Sages have never been so unhappy."

Gabby's adoptive father was the Sage of Death... former Sage of Death, now. He'd asked her to call him the Teacher of Death now, and he said she wasn't the Follower of Death anymore, either. She didn't really understand why he said it. But he looked really sad when he did.

"The Sage of Death... no, the Teacher of Death... he said the Sage of Hatred started an argument... do you know the Sage of Hatred?"
"We don't see him very often, but he is a very wise and powerful man. He taught us not to take our loved ones for granted and how to love people more and to always respect each other. He told us that we must never hate, ever, or our souls will die."

"Then... why did he get in a fight with the other Sages?"
"We are meditating on this very subject. He tried to explain, but the Sages' wisdom is beyond our understanding. The words they use confuse us."

Elmath placed her tiny, wrinkled hand on Gabby's arm. Her fingers were cold and clammy. She seemed so sad and troubled. Gabby felt a deep ache within herself and a deep pity for the strange little creature.

A loud rapping at the chamber door snapped her back into the present. She ran to hide in a pile of clothes in the corner of the room. A moment of silence passed before the door opened up, revealing another girl with dark hair. The new arrival was short and skinny, and she was wearing a brown business suit. There were two big grocery bags filled with ponchos and conical helmets in her little hands. She stared nervously down to the floor, trembling with tension and embarrassment. The Ancient Ones recognized her and bowed respectfully. Erica. A servant of the mighty Planner.

"G-good afternoon, wise ones! I'm here to get you all changed into nice, clean clothing!"

Cleanliness was the pretext Miss Planner came up with to justify changing the Ancient Ones' clothing at her convenience. The Ancient Ones were very cleanly creatures, even if they didn't get showers very often. They were clean eaters, they didn't sweat much, they had very little body odor, and their bathroom hygiene was fastidious beyond belief considering how utterly unmotivated they were in all other aspects of their lives. As such, they had little reason to change their clothes very often at all. But it was a perfectly serviceable cover story, all things considered. The Ancient Ones lined up and patiently let the girl in the business suit dress them, not noticing the look of excitement on her face as she handled the conical metal helmets.

"Is that... all of you? Is someone taking a nap in the corner there? Wakey wakey..."

Erica crawled on her hands and knees towards the pile of clothes Gabby was hiding in. The little girl felt her heart beating fast with fright. The Sage of Death... Teacher of Death, now... told her to trust the Chosen Ones who lived and worked in the Tower. He said they wouldn't hurt her. They wouldn't be mean to her. But she was still scared.

"Come on, wake up... it's me, Erica. I've got a new helmet for you... and a pretty black cloak..."

Gabby could feel Erica's aura. It wasn't pure and gentle like the Ancient Ones' at all. It was a pale green color, bulging with power, shifting around like an amoeba. It was sickening. It made Gabby want to throw up. She didn't like the woman in the brown business suit one bit.

A memory flashed through her mind. A painful memory of a man with an aura just like that. Her father. Her real father.

"You little freak! Come here! Don't hide from Daddy!"
"No..."

"We know what you did to that kid! Come out right now!"
"No!"

"You killed him! You're a murderer! You're a little monster!"
"I didn't do it!"

"Don't you lie to me!"
"I'm..."

"Break down that door! Get that girl out here! Creepy little brat... creepy little eyes, and that stink she puts off... we're going to chain her up, for good this time..."

Gabby curled up in the ball of clothes, trembling, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Her body burned hot with shame. She was a freak. A murderous, disgusting, worthless freak who killed her entire family. A creepy little girl with nasty black hair who smelled like a rotten corpse.

"Oh... you're not one of the Ancient Ones. What's... what's wrong, little girl? Come here, sweetie..."

Erica picked up the child in the poncho and conical helmet, held her gently against herself, and stroked her tiny back. Gabby shook and cried softly, quietly into Erica's shoulder.

"I didn't mean to sc-scare you... I'm sorry..."
"Erica, this is Gabby. She's our friend. You must be very kind to her."
"Gabby... did you come here to meditate with the Ancient Ones?"

Gabby sniffled, her face wet with snot. She nodded and buried her head in the woman's brown blazer.

"The Ancient Ones are nice, aren't they?"
"Uh huh..."

Erica was strong... stronger than she should be, considering her height and skinny build. Gabby felt a wave of fear pass through her, almost like a jolt of electricity, as she realized that the woman had a strong grip and was not going to let her go. She started struggling, but Gabby was a very weak girl who was easily controlled and Erica just held on tighter.

"It'll be okay, Gabby. Don't be scared... I'm not going to hurt you..."
"Nnhh...”

"If you keep crying... it's going to m-make me cry..."
"Guh."

Gabby struggled even harder, wriggling around like a little worm and making weird grunting noises, but Erica's iron grip on her shoulders only grew stronger.

"I used to cry a lot, but now... I never cry in front of other people... because it's not very professional... but I still want to cry whenever I get scared... sometimes I have to hide in the bathroom until I calm down..."
"Mnnnnn... hm-hmm."

"But you're still little, so it's... it's okay for you to cry..."
"Hm, ah!"

"It's important to be honest about your feelings... it builds self-confidence... and helps people love you more, and care about you..."
"Eeh..."

Gabby opened her eyes. The Ancient Ones were all staring at her with sad expressions. A few of them took their helmets off, making them look even more pathetic and worried than they were when they were talking about the Sages. They were muttering to each other and nodding sadly. Gabby stopped struggling. Erica took the opportunity to stroke her back just like Jessica used to do for her when she was afraid.

"Gabby... can I ask you something?"
"Ngh."

"You're not scared of me, are you?"
"No."

"Why are you crying?"
"Because... everyone hates me... my family... everybody... because I killed someone... I killed a lot of people.”

"A little girl like you? No..."
"Yeah... the first person I killed... he was a good person, he tried to make friends with me and everything... but then, his head blew up... I didn't mean to do it, but..."

"Gabby..."
"And the next person I killed was my uncle. He was really nice too. I m-made his whole body... explode..."

Gabby's voice trembled and broke into loud, racking sobs. She started to hyperventilate, gasping for breath, trembling all over like she was freezing.

"I... hate killing..."

Monster. Freak. Demonic spirit. Murderer. Killer. Creepy little girl. Scared her parents, so they chained her to the wall. Made her sleep outside in the cold, and fed her scraps of meat out of a garbage bag like a wild animal...

Gabby wanted to curl up and die. Maybe that would be better than being this weak, ugly thing who killed fifteen people. Erica rubbed her tiny back, stroking and petting and soothing, while Gabby's body continued to convulse with sobbing fits that came one after another in an unstoppable torrent of emotion.

"Gabby, I don't think that was your fault..."
"... you're lying..."

"No, I'm telling the truth... it wasn't your fault. It was an accident. You're just a little girl, how could you possibly kill anyone? You didn't mean to do it. Right?"
"Yeah, I... I didn't mean to."

"So it wasn't... it wasn't your fault."
"Nnng..."

"So... you didn't do anything bad. Did you, Gabby?"
"No. It was an... accident..."

"Right? You didn't mean to do it..."
"Mmmhmm."

"Good girl... is there someone I can talk to about what's going on? Your m-mommy? Your grandma or grandpa, or maybe a friend you made here in the Tower? A teacher?"
"The Teacher of Death..."

"Elmath, can you watch her for a moment? Make sure she doesn't go anywhere. I'm going to go find the Teacher of Death."
"I... um..."

"Don't worry Gabby, it's going to be okay. I care about you, and I'm here to help you... and the Ancient Ones all care about you too... all the Chosen Ones want you to be safe and happy, okay? You have so many kind, loving, and caring friends, right?"

Gabby nodded and let the tears roll down her cheeks. Her pain was still there, like a dull knife in her heart, but for some reason, she felt much less scared now. Maybe because the Ancient Ones were watching over her. Maybe because Erica was stroking her hair. She was nice after all. Even if she was scary... she was nice.