Time seemed to fade away to nothingness. Hunter began to notice other prisoners also began to sport the same surgical amputations his own team had received as the days progressed to weeks and then months. The horror and dread he felt began to subside as they all slowly acclimated to the new normal they were subjected to.

     Powers’ humor quickly returned, but just as they all had been affected by their imprisonment, so too it seemed that Lawrence had been changed. Where once his jokes and pratfalls were good natured, over the top and only of minor irritation, had now become venomous and biting. Hunter was surprised to admit that even he missed the previous version of Powers.

     Food began to become scarce. It quickly became evident that their jailers were now withholding anything of substance, granting food only once every week, and forcing the prisoners to ration or raid the other groups for sustenance. Tempers began to flare, and it wasn’t uncommon to see teams of soldiers fighting against one another just to survive.

     So much for loyalty to comrade and country, Hunter thought grimly, as he examined his arm. He paused, wincing with realization. He had called it his arm, as if it had always belonged to him, and hadn’t been hacked off the corpse of Private Henderson and surgically attached in place of his original. When did the horror start to become mundane?

     In spite of the slow boiling hostilities between all the soldiers now, the truth of Unit 561 was now apparent to everyone: they didn’t intend for anyone to survive, and were only seeking to make the soldier’s deaths as creative as possible just because they can.

     Once, Hunter found a corpse in their cell, thankfully not belonging to anyone on their team, but some other poor hapless soul just as desperate to survive. He was a malnourished and tortured looking soul. Like the rest of them, his body had been surgically amputated with the limbs of his own fallen comrades, making him a poorly mismatched man fighting against his own body just to survive.

     It was another indictment on Doctor Rosette. She didn’t care if their bodies accepted the amputations or not. Most other soldiers succumbed to blood poisoning or snapped under the physical or mental strains the guards put them under.

     “I think I can see him,” Sloane murmured, gazing intently into her left hand; she had been given Henderson’s other arm. “He’s alive!” There was a strange look in her eyes, somehow both brightly alert and eerily dull at the same time.

     “What the hell are you on about?” Mareel grumbled. “Who’s alive?”

     “Henderson!” a child-like innocence seemed to flow into the reporter. She turned her hand towards the lieutenant, pointing at it with her right in emphasis. “H-he’s here!”

     Powers laughed without mirth. “You really have lost it,” He crowed, thumping his bad leg. Unlike the rest of them, the human limb he received from their deceased private didn’t take to being on an elf as well as it did to another human like Sloane or to a pair of siths like Mareel and Hunter. Each of them would take turns as his crutch to help Powers move around. Obviously the Unimus didn’t do anything to help his situation.

     “Stow it,” instructed Mareel. Despite appearing calm, the vein throbbing on his temple showed just how thin his temper had been worn.

     “ ‘Stow it,’ ” Powers mimicked. Perhaps he didn’t realize just how much danger he was in, mocking the man who was holding him up. Or perhaps he just didn’t care.

     But the lieutenant did. The vein on his temple pulsed as the aquarian sith snarled. Powers yelped as his CO slammed his bad leg and let him drop to the floor.

     “Hey!” The elf yelped, clutching at his leg as he writhed on the ground. “What was that for?”

     “Find another crutch,” Mareel said with indignation. “I am sick and tired of your jokes, soldier.”

     The elf hobbled unsteadily up on his one good foot. “Didn’t bother you none before we ended up in this shithole camp, sir.” He hissed with venom. “What’s so wrong with having a laugh every now and again.” He made a pair of rude gestures with his hands to them all. “Y’all could do with a smile, you karcking critics!”

     Their argument managed to rouse Sloane from her trance, and she quickly placed herself in between Mareel and Powers. “Stop it!” She bemoaned. “Neither of us are the enemy here.”

     “Sorry sweetheart,” Powers snarled, wobbling on his one foot. “But we all can’t be as cool under pressure as Hunter.”

     “This has been a long time coming, comedian.” Mareel snarled.

     The two started circling one another, or rather tried to. Powers immediately fumbled, pinwheeling in an attempt to stay balanced, leaving himself wide open. Mareel pounced, knocking the elf over. The fight was over before Hunter or Sloane could even step up to extricate them from one another.

     “Go ahead, princess!” the elf wheezed as Mareel sat atop him. “I already have a dead leg. Finish the rest of me off. Make me whole.”

     Mareel glanced between his bloodied fists and Powers’ beaten face. He looked about as surprised as the rest of them that he had assaulted his own soldier.

     “Make me whole,” Powers croaked again.

     Will torture and starvation be all it takes to break the enemy? Or is there something else that I’m missing?

     “Coward!” The elf declared as Sloane and Hunter pulled Mareel off him. The Aquarian Sith dusted himself off as the two then helped Powers to his feet, cluing him in that they had unexpected visitors to their cell.

     It was Overseer Ascee and Chief Scientist Dr. Rosette.

     “Don’t mind us,” The Overseer said blithely. “By all means, kill each other. Make my day.”

     “What do you want?” Hunter demanded.

     Ascee made a gesture to someone outside the cell, and a pair of Technosoldiers appeared, dragging an armored she-elf in between them into the room.

     “Considering the circumstances of the experiments,” Sylvie answered, partially analyzing something on her data readouts. “We thought it would be prudent to add a variable to the experiments. His Majesty, King Argo, in his infinite wisdom and mercy, gave permission for us to include a very special guest he recently acquired.”

     The soldiers dropped the elf to the floor, allowing her sandy blonde hair to fall over her face. She was beaten and bloodied, but still alive, if only barely. To Hunter's surprise as he lifted her into his arms, he recognized the tattoo inked upon her neck with its top ends touching the edges of her lips. The Mark of the House of Axis. As he pushed the elf's hair out of her face, her name sparked in his mind from long ago.

     Cradled in in arms was Venus Nimbus, the Asura of the Dokkan Elves.

     Powers demeanor instantly changed as he recognized her. The ghost of his trademark grin appeared on his face as he mouthed, We're saved. Almost to himself.

     But Hunter didn't hold the same illusion. He was convinced this meant that the war was going poorly.

     "Congratulations, fleshies," Ascee forced himself to boom. He looked like he wanted to do anything but say it. "Your squad will be getting the VIP treatment from now on." Both the Overseer and the Chief Scientist started to leave when he paused and added, "Well, for as long as you can keep her alive, that is."

     "Have fun!~"

     No sooner after he left, teams of Unimus soldiers began to enter the cell. Within moments, their filfthy and bloodsoaked beds were replaced with fine gel-polymer mattresses atop intricately detailed and crafted bed frames. Outside, a crowd of prisoners already started forming, sour expressions swiftly being traded among the inmates.

     Emotions Hunter and everyone else quickly shared as they realized just what kind of experiment they were in.

     An Unimus parted the sea of prisoners, pushing a cart inside. "Sand Tiger ribeye, for your pleasure." the chef announced, removing the lids from the dishes. "Dessert will be prepared at your convenience."

     "Get that fancy feast out of my face," Mareel barked. The chef quickly bolted, leaving the food behind. "Gah, don't even think about it!" He yelled as Powers and Sloane looked ready to dive into the spread. "It's another divide and conquer gambit. You eat that food, and everyone in the camp will be gunning for us."

     "But I'm hungry," Powers protested. "A good meal is the least they could do after messing up my leg!" Nevertheless, he reluctantly hobbled away, grumbling obscenities under his breath. Sloane guiltily stepped away from the cart, as if she was leaving a loved one to die.

     "How is she?" Mareel asked, joining Hunter as he stood vigil over the Asura.

     "She's alive, if that's what you're wondering," He replied. Gesturing over to the braces on her legs, he added, "But something tells me His Majesty had a specific punishment in mind for her before joining us."

     A tone chirped from the restraint on his neck, and Hunter felt a feeling of relief rush over him that Mareel and Powers mirrored. His magyk had returned. Or at least, a portion of it did. Keeping Venus cradled in one arm, he lifted up his hand, the hand that belonged to him, and attempted to manifest his power.

     Water formed in his cupped hand.

     "Magyk is back," Mareel announced as Hunter began to tip some of the water in the Asura's lips.

     Almost immediately, Venus coughed and sputtered, her eyes opening in shock. She gasped in pain and held her legs as she sat up.

     "Where are they?" She exclaimed, head darting around the room in search of something. "Please tell me they're alive!"

     "Where are who?" Mareel asked.

     "My team!" Venus clarified. "I was responsible for keeping a team safe in preparation for an assault."

     Hunter exchanged somber glances with his squad.

    "Odds are they're dead, gorgeous," Powers said before anyone could stop him. He gestured to his necrotic leg. "About as dead as we are now."

     “You’re pleasant,” the Dokkan elf grumbled, forcing herself to her feet. After taking a moment to get herself steady, she cocked her head around the room. “So where are we?”

     “Unit 561, location unknown.” Mareel replied. “But lately we’ve just been calling this place hell.”

     Venus noticed their amputated limbs, and shuddered. “I’m inclined to believe you.” She said quietly. “How long has everyone been here? What’s the plan to escape?”

     They all gave her confused looks, making her scowl. “Has no one tried to escape?”

     “Ten did, during the first week.” Sloane piped up. “The Overseer promised to send home the first ten soldiers who eliminated their own.”

     “By the Divines!”

     “Ascee sent them home alright.” Mareel growled. “In body bags.”