Yes. Unsettled was the right word. Especially considering what the girl was about to do. The chance of her bumping into him was something that, even in the present unlit state of the facilities, he felt like avoiding at all costs. Not to scare the small one. Not to break her, too. It was something he dreaded. Much more than the darkness. He could live with the darkness. It was in him after all. There was nothing to be afraid of. Except for himself. So he stepped a few feet away from the metal door before calling out to the girl, whose voice echoed through the concrete room. Quite un-concrete for pinpointing her location.

“Please try to find a metal door, I will be near it. But I do not think it will open until the power comes back on, which should be shortly.” He made some indistinguishable grumbling noises. It better be shortly. This was a multi-million venture after all. Every minute without energy cost the facility dearly. And him nerves. The sum was adding up nicely. Maybe even to the cost of an additional, easy to find door with a phosphorescent sign overhead? Possibly? He would suggest that to the staff.

Waiting at the doorstep. On his charge. It was something unusual. He hovered. There. Just beyond. In the shadows you can sometimes feel your own face. Can you not? Mirrorworlds.

Mr. Stein directed Henri and then tried to throw some comfort in there. The girl almost nodded in response, just from habit, but realized her head wouldn’t make a rattling noise. “Okay, thanks. I’ll keep looking for the door then.” Whether or not I’ll actually find it is my concern. It was a negative thought, but the girl couldn’t stop it. Henrietta Braun was terrified of the dark. Her skin was crawling with the thought of unseen beings lurking in the darkness, just waiting to sneak up on her. Horrible, hungry grins on their distorted faces.

The girl’s breath became a little shallow as her outstretched arms searched for the exit. Her hand hit something cold and hard. Metal was cold, so that must’ve been the door. “I..I think I found it, Mr. Stein.” Henri sank to the floor, leaning her back against the wall as she did so. Her breathing had began to make her feel light-headed and she needed to sit for a few minutes. “I’m sitting on the floor near the door. You must be on the other side, because I didn’t bump into you.”

Henri pulled her legs up to her chest and she rested her head on top of her knees. She needed to take a moment to calm down.

Her voice in the darkness. The sounds of her coming closer. Breathing. Quick young breaths. It was all there. Collected by him like precious stones. Like the knowledge he gathered for a living. The way he tried to do most things he did. Dutifully. Observant. Silent. He heard her breathe and noted the difference to his own, still quite regular intake of air. Regular and almost noiselessly. Quiet he was sometimes indeed. She was excited. And she was young. Those two things often went together. Probably scared too. Compared to the normal case of teenage angst, he could understand her fear here, though. His own uneasiness was nothing he could not keep in check though, he must keep in check. He was the teacher after all. And which student remained calm when the teacher... freaked out? It was a sign of great worry if they did. And here was nothing to worry. They were just alone in a giant concrete tomb.

All alone. Nothing he could not deal with. Nothing he hadn't had before. Darkness was his friend after all. Spying often entailed working in uncomfortable places. Not to speak of the warm, humid, oily interiors of ships. Especially engine rooms. Those pretty pictures of giant motors standing in halls of white-painted metal... They came from ships that were bigger than most houses in New York. Normally it was small and cramped there. And warm. And loud. Here it was so silent, you could hear your heartbeat. Your own life beating in your chest. Beating it out. Loud. Screaming to the world. I am here. Find me. I am alive. Bind me?

* * *

Somewhere else, technicians in blue gear were, in the harsh light of battery powered florescent lamps that cast deep shadows on their faces, trying to find the source of the sudden loss of energy experienced by Mondragon Medical by means of the diagnostic systems. They had worked themselves to starting generators and hooking them up to the most vital systems, but the power seemed to drain away most rapidly making their efforts near-futile. There were many mouths to feed, speaking of course electrically, in a multi-million venture. And they all seemed to be online at this time of evening. And almost no one was there to switch them all off. “This might take a while” one of the blue-clad mumbled. “Stupid docs not turning off their gear” And all because of a single hungry marten... if they knew. If he knew... maybe he did.

* * *

Her voice was coming from somewhere close. Loud and clear the echo sprang up around him, but he could hear her. Smell her. Her hair conditioner or something of that sort. A bit of sweat, too. She had found him. Good. “Miss Braun, while we are waiting, would you share with me some information regarding your entrance into our organization?” Yes... he wondered how a girl like her made an entrance into the Kabal. She was barely trained and therefore barely worth anything. The boss invested the time to have her trained. Invested the money into keeping her around. What could she do? What did she do?... And most importantly: What did she know? All those were viable questions to be asked. But there was one thing he wanted to achieve with these questions, coming from his mouth into darkness. Take her mind off things. Maybe a fruitless venture, but a road that was easily taken. For both their benefits. His voice was so calm. Even smooth. Was there something she wanted to talk about?

Her teacher asked a question that seemed almost out of place, considering the situation. Henrietta assumed he was trying to help keep her mind off of the fact that they might run out of air or die of thirst in a giant room. It was nice of him to worry, and Henri smiled slightly in the darkness. His question was reasonable, especially considering that she wasn’t well trained and she was decently young still. Her lips quirked to one side and she tried to judge what exactly her reasoning for joining the Kabal was. After sitting and thinking of an answer, she cleared her throat a little.

“I suppose it’s because I want to be able to help people. Humans and mutants. I don’t hate humans, but I feel like they fear us because we’re different to them. They don’t understand us and people fear what they don’t understand.” Henri stared into the blackness as she spoke. “I know I don’t seem like much now, but I want to do something important with my life. When I pass on, I don’t want to feel like there was so much more I could’ve done.”

“I’ve considered joining the X-Men, since I live at the Mansion. I don’t feel like that’s right for me and it seems like that’s what everyone wants to do. I’m not sure if I’m cut-out to fight mutants or humans. That’s not what I want, necessarily. I’d prefer to help people and avoid the violence.” The brunette rubbed the tops of her knees with her hands absently as she told Mr. Stein of her decisions. “Mr. Swartz had told me I might be able to help with some humanitarian work and I felt like the Kabal could be a chance for me to do some good. Lenna had introduced me to Slate after she saved me from some thugs. They told me some things about this organization, though I know they didn’t tell me everything. I’d be stupid to assume that.”

“I was told that some illegal things were done, but it was to help people. Slate said that things would come out for the better overall. I don’t know what’s true, but I figure it’s at least worth a shot.” Henrietta went silent. He probably thinks I’m so childish and useless. Maybe I’m naïve to what all of this really is, but I can back out later, right?

Some things had not to change he noted. There was air and no water falling on them. It was reasonably warm (considering where they were). It was dark. There was no electricity. No spark there at all. There were two people, set so far apart in age chatting in the sightless spot they were stuck in. It was comforting in a way. Voices sounding, reminders of the world that had left them behind. With the light it left. For a while at least it was gone. And Martin was relieved. Reprieve for a while. The burdens were gone. No sight. Just sound. Principles. It was just that old habits died hard. Very hard. Inquisition calling. Have you been well? Well shadows managed to get through that particular line. Static calling in. Just odd ends coming to form patterns.

He liked patterns. And he liked the feel of the slightly cold concrete on which he was siting. Hard like rock under him. Slightly rough, but not enough to call it anything but smooth. Like flowing thoughts. Come with me... join with me. Take me up and carry me. Come with me. I'll show thee... things you never imagined. In pure darkness.

“So you think the road to peace comes through understanding.” His invitation came in the even notes his organ produced so readily. Nothing major wrong with him, it, just the fact that it was normal. “A reasonable motion.” He breathed. Almost silently. It was reasonable now. Just presented problems. Since almost every mutant was so different from the rest. From everyone else. Just a bit of concrete on the road to salvation. A block. Dynamite was usually effective. In many ways. “But let me allow to pose one question to you” he continued in level words. “What is more helpful? To give food to the starving children in the streets of a corrupt nation, or to pull down its ruler and instigate a better one?”

Moral dilemmas. Colors were easy to see in darkness. The ones that he looked for in that question were. Show me your true colors, lady. Show me yourself. Trust in me. His blue eyes blinked in the blackness. Hard as Obsidian. Shadows waiting just beyond. Waiting for an answer.

It was still dark and Henri wasn’t such a big fan of that. She really appreciated the fact that Martin was holding a conversation with her. It took a little bit of her mind off the fact that they were trapped in an electrically controlled room that was lacking in electricity. She touched all the tips of her fingers on her left hand to the finger tips on her right hand. Henri moved them so they mirrored each other. In her head, the song ‘Winner’ played on repeat. She hated when songs were stuck in her head, but currently it was a little comforting.

The song instantly stopped playing when Mr. Stein asked his question to the brunette. Henrietta sighed as she thought about it. It was a good question, but a difficult one. The girl’s hands came apart and she set one on top of each knee. “Hmm, I guess that at my age, I’d just try feeding the starving children. I really don’t think I’m strong enough to take down a person to place a new one in there. Not to mention, that no matter how horrible that person, I’m not sure if I’d be able to hurt them if I had to.”

The girl became silent for a few minutes before speaking again. “What about you, Mr. Stein? May I ask why you joined the Kabal and what you would do in that situation?” She hoped that he didn't get mad for her asking. Henrietta wasn't sure if it was a private thing or not.

She laughed softly now, sending ripples of sound in the darkness. He laughed often lately it seemed. Working with young people seemed to do that to you. Naive in such wonderful ways. Nearly malleable.“Ah but Ms. Braun, you realize that this is a big part of what this Kabal is about, do you not? We are professionals joined together to provide the skills and talents needed to reach a common goal.” As defined by the buyer of their services in the gray suit. They were hired hands. Most of them quite good at what they did. “Much more loosely so than the Xmen or the Order, but I think that this is an asset as it gives each member more breathing space.” More freedom to be what they were. There were the cold professionals. He ones like him. And then there were people like Miss Braun. Young. Idealistic. Not quite certain of their place in the world. Maybe she was to be used for recruitment or press releases? That was a distinct possibility seeing her lack of training. Especially in self control. And knowledge. “And you would be very much surprised by what people can be driven to do. How hard they can turn.” The slightly amused tone was back, now with the barest hint of a chill there. Just out of sight.

Then he softened his voice a bit. There was, after all, only sound here. No touch. No Look. And so he added: “But then I do not see how driving could happen here.” It would be somewhat sad if it would happen here. But it had happened to a young mutant in a developed country before. At least one of them. And he was sitting in this very room. That kind of situation that forces colors on you. The blood red of the killers. Or the black of the dead. Both of them he could deal with. But he rather was alive than dead.

He could not refrain from flinching in the darkness at her next question. He blessed the darkness for hiding it from her. You want to know things? Fair enough. What would he do? You need to ask? “Why I joined? One could say I thought there was a way to make the world a better place other than cuddling or disemboweling everyone I disliked.” It was after all, what could be said. Not what he would say. Money was part of it, of course. Amongst other things. Like access to a network and having indeed something to do with his skills. Not the ones tending flowers. But she didn't need to know that. “And as for what I would handle the given situation I can tell you that I would neither cuddle nor disembowel the people responsible for the situation.” Maybe just turn them into white-clad inhabitants of one or the other asylum. Maybe just cutting their throats. But slitting ones stomach? It was crude. And he hoped that could not be said about his methods. He had seen crude after all. Back then. When he still knew who he was most of the time.

Mr. Stein explained to Henrietta what the Kabal was about. The girl nodded to herself in the dark and then turned to where the man’s voice was coming from. Reach a common goal? Henri wondered what exactly most people were trying to reach. Slate had made it sound like it was for everyone to get along, but she wasn’t so sure that was all there was. There was a lot of violence, as far as she could tell. If peace was the goal, would violence really work? Henri understood the need for war at certain times, but war never did much for peace. The brunette closed her eyes to the darkness and took a deep breath.

What people can be driven to? That sounded a bit scary and dark. Henrietta wondered if her teacher spoke from experience. He seemed to know a lot about sadder things. It made the girl wonder what could’ve happened to him. She would never ask him that though because if something terrible had happened, bringing it up could hurt him. “I’m not sure if I’m the type of person that can be driven to be a hard person. I’m not really a cold person, by nature. I hate seeing people upset and I guess I’m more of a sad person than anything.” The girl felt the cold wall through the back of her shirt.

Cuddling or disemboweling? The girl’s blue eyes widened. Uhhh. Scary…Well, I’m just glad he doesn’t disembowel, though he probably thinks that I’m a cuddler. It kinda seems like he’s hinting at me being soft. The girl rolled her eyes and made a slightly annoyed face. “What exactly do you mean by cuddling? I don’t expect anyone to just be all nice to a horrible person who’s responsible for deaths and tyranny. That’s a stupid thing to ask of anyone. If I met someone who has done horrible things to people who were innocent, I’d yell at them and maybe punch them in the face. But, I don’t think I could kill said person. I’m not saying I never want to deck people or kick them in the crotch, I’m just saying I’m not super violent.” The brunette became quiet and then laughed quietly to herself. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound crazy.”

The words came over his lips sluggishly. Reluctant to leave them, only one by one, consonants falling into place after vowels. Slowly forming the reply to what he perceived to be half a question.“If you feel the desire to test the limits of humanity you set yourself, I will design a program for you that will do so.” It was an offer he made not lightly. It was an offer he made, because it was, in some ways, his responsibility to teach her. In ways she wanted. He could break her if she requested it. He disliked the thought of doing it in passing, of simply not noting her limits right, of not being able to control that aspect of humanity he lost. But if she desired to be broken... he could do that. A offer not lightly made indeed. He would regret setting something in motion that would result in shattering the coal that was her soul. Just in hope of finding diamond there. The world was almost funny sometimes. If it were not just sad.

My scars tingle /
stretch across my chest /
Inside where the heart pushes /
against the pressure of stagnation /
I feel them burning /
Just for a minute every day /
I am on fire /

“'What I mean by cuddling'” Martin stated after her small explosion of verbs. “is, that it seems customary for the X-men to treat people you and I would, as you put it, 'kick in the crotch' with more leniency than seems warranted by normal logic.” Convicted criminals entering a school full of children? No problem, done. Former Order members serving in high offices? No problem, done. Overlooking most dangerous infractions? Underage drinking? And so on, and so on. It would be beyond disgraceful to be only allowed to watch for anyone with high moral competence. So what? He had little. Held little regard to the flowing rules of the people around him. They were not in his shoes. And he not in their ones. He just wore them painted on the outside of his feet. Paint of the rags that fell apart every so often. “They seem to adhere to a philosophy of strict philanthropy. In other words: They're too good for their own good. The opposite of which I hold true for the organization called the Order.” Ripping people apart in the street? Cops? Messy. Much too messy.

Passing me by today /
I decided to fall into the sky /
My eyes drinking color /
looking for reprieve from the gray of the ground /

“And another conundrum for you: Which standards of legality should apply to us?” Jus twords into silence. Worms nagging.

Mr. Stein made an offer that surprised the young woman. He offered to make a program to help her test her limits. The brunette stared out into the darkness. Limits of humanity? Was it to see how far she would go in a bad situation? To see if she could hurt someone or kill them? Henrietta was a little freaked out, but understood what he was saying. He wanted to know what she was capable of, and to an extent, so did Henri. The thing was, what if she wasn’t the person she had always thought she was. What if she could do horrible things and get so used to it that it became second nature? She didn’t want to find out if that would be the outcome. It would be too hard for the girl to take. Too confusing.

Henrietta listened as her self-defense teacher explained his meaning. Adhere to a philosophy of philanthropy? Wow, he likes big words. I know what they mean and all, but I never think to talk like that. The brunette noted that he sounded much older than he appeared. He sounded very mature. Her head turned toward where the man’s voice was coming when he mentioned ‘the Order’. “What’s the Order? I’ve never heard of them before now. I’m guessing they aren’t very kind people, if they’re the opposite of the X-Men, which ‘adheres to philosophy of philanthropy’.” Henri echoed the man’s words, wanting to hear what they sounded like coming from her young mouth. They sounded a little less serious, but the meaning was still conveyed.

Another conundrum? “Which standards of legality…” The girl repeated the words quietly. “I don’t mean to sound dumb, but are you asking if the Kabal should have different laws than other people? I guess I’m confused about the ‘standards’ part. I’m not quite sure what you mean when you say that.” Henrietta got quiet, waiting to hear his response.

The silence endured. Breaths were taken in slowly, deliberately, almost unheard by those ears trying to pry them away, the sounds in the darkness.

Ah it seemed, after the way she was talking, she was finally catching onto a bit of information he had not been pressing on anyone. It was just for him being more carefree in this environment that his rather special situation in regards to his outward appearance was quite visible. Discernible the difference that marked those who walked through the ages uncaring of the spaces of time that passed. Just the sun rising above the horizon is not enough to make my day. Maybe the girl was just trying to joke around. Fool around. Young things. So. Alien. “The Order is the Order. I don't know much about them and never cared enough to inquire further. They are apparently a group of organized mutants much like the X-men. Only that they prefer killing members of the law enforcement rather than working together with them.” He was not responsible for keeping watch upon the order. He was just here and at the Mansion. And other places, too when it suited him.

“What I was asking for, was primarily your opinion on a matter that divides the mutant population, right down the middle I suspect, as it touches the heart of who we think ourselves to be. The question whether 'normal' laws are good enough for us.” The question of how close we are to them. The question of how far we are gone. He was quite out there. Laws... didn't matter for him. They mattered for the people around him., And sometimes that was enough. Most of the time it was. He was following his own rules. They were sustainable. Indefinitely. Quite easy questions. Greet the silence. Welcome the darkness. Whats in your soul? What to sell? Is there anything?

Mr. Stein explained to Henrietta that the Order was a group of mutants that killed law officials. He had also said that they were similar to the X-Men. She didn’t really see how they could be alike when the X-Men attempted to work with cops. She supposed that her teacher meant that they both attempted to help mutants. Their tactics were quite opposite, but Henri could see how they wanted the same things, to a point. The brunette wondered how a group could just go around killing police. She couldn’t figure out how people couldn’t feel guilty about taking lives.

Henrietta listened as her defense teacher explained what he meant about the laws. Should mutants be held to the same standards as humans? If they weren’t, wouldn’t everything be crazy? Regular humans wouldn’t take well to that. Of course, Henri had joined the Kabal even though Slate told her that they broke some laws. If laws were broken to enhance everyone’s lives, that would be okay, right? The brunette sat quietly thinking. “I guess that we shouldn’t be held to a different set of laws. I think that even if our laws were different, we’d still break them. Someone would still break them. That’s the thing about laws. Plenty of people think they should live by a different set of rules for some reason or another.” The girl leaned her head back against the wall. “The Kabal breaks laws. I know that, but that just helps prove my point. People do whatever they want either way.”

There was light. The darkness ended suddenly. Nobody had thought that eyes that were opened in the darkness of the training are would now be unaccustomed to the levels of luminosity normally present. Or they had no way to adjust the brightness from where they were. Regardless of the reason the effect was quite spectacular. Martin had to shut his eyes immedeately, for his optical nerve was being singed by the sudden amount of photons that hit his retina. Cascades of electrons, neurotransmitters, dopamine, adrenaline, burning in his brain, were doing something different though.

Thinking about what he had just been told. The light was a marginal distraction. So notable the change would be, the change in their surroundings. The metal door was there and besides the keypad burning in its usual hard-blue glow. The Light on the ceiling was there, illuminating the room. But... what was different here now that they could see each other, if they dared to open their eyes, that they had the possibility again, possibilities opened to them. What was different? Just his... perception. Wasn't it? Just a different world. An added degree of freedom.

“I have two thing to give you on your way to our next meeting, Ms. Braun. One is a question.” In the light his voice seemed flatter almost. Dry. Controlled. Everything was back to normal. He was still kneeling on the floor, not far from where she was sitting. Pose impeccable. He could have been meditating in an Asian temple. “What is Weltschmerz?” That yearning for the perfect nobody could archive. That was it. Looking at a rotten apple, mold climbing, and still smiling. That was it. All facets of the same thing. Just a German lesson. Maybe something more. He was here to teach her fighting. And maybe help her discover her humanity. But that she could only do on her own. With, maybe, a few words a guidance. Running head-on into walls... it was a thing every generation did on its own. Or not?

“The other thing is a quest so to speak.” Even notes. “I think I have given you enough information in this session to deduce two things about me that you are invited to present to me in our next session. You may excuse yourself.” Dismissal. Curt.

But before she had the chance to go out of the metal door completely, his voice would drift over to her again. “Logic, Miss Braun, is an essential part of self defense. As well as the skill of observation. This was not a wasted lesson. Use your chance.” Thank you, whatever it was, that brought about the darkness. Now I have more to work with. A kid who knows. Almost knows. Very dangerous. Almost.

Light appeared and made the girl flinch and throw her hand across her eyes. A startled gasp escaped her as she slowly brought her hand back down. Henrietta slowly stood up. She had forgotten how bright light was. Going without it for so long had made her eyes become used to the dark. She wasn’t able to see in the darkness of course, but it had become the norm. Her blue eyes wandered toward her teacher as she wondered what he was thinking. All that could go through the girl’s mind currently was the idea of light. It was so amazing and wonderful.

As she stared in wonder, Henri heard Mr. Stein’s voice. He asked her something. It was a German something. The brunette tilted her head slightly and bit her lip. Weltshmerz? She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it did sound familiar somehow, as if she had heard her grandfather say it once before. He spoke German, which she had mentioned if she remembered correctly. Henrietta listened to the rest of what he had to say. He said the other thing was a quest, though he didn’t tell her what the quest was.

“What’s the quest?” The girl blurted the question suddenly, even after he had dismissed her. She wanted to know what she was supposed to do, so she could do it correctly. Henrietta blushed slightly fromher spouting. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I just want to know what you expect of me. I really appreciate your patience and work with me. It would be great if I could make you a proud teacher.”

She walked to the door and looked at him a minute, wondering if he would answer, but guessed that he wanted her to do this all herself. Henri sighed slightly and then smiled. “I’ll see you later then, Mr. Stein. Thank you.” The girl opened the door and walked out. She let out an even heavier sigh once out in the hallway. It was stressful. Very stressful. She was so afraid he would get mad. He seemed like someone not to anger. He seemed so cold, and it made her nervous.

Weltshmerz? Hmm… Well, he said that those two things he assigned me would help deduce something about him. He seems like a very sad person. I’ll have to look it up somewhere. Maybe it has to do with sadness or struggling in life. Germans do have a word for everything. That may be it. With a shrug, she made her way outside and began her journey home.

Another day. Training day for the young brunette.

Simple surroundings this time. Like the other times a daily life situation for most working people. Where there once had been crates and blue barrels in labyrinthine proportions, there now was a couch. Deep red upholstery, it looked, no more rightly would be said, felt, a little like it had been the predecessor to one of the designs of a grand Swedish furniture chain. Spots and stains covered it and made it look more like a strange blood-colored animal that had found its way out of the laboratories down the hallway by accident.

It was ordinary somehow. And it wasn't. The couch was sitting alone in the otherwise empty gargantuan space gray empty room, a single spotlight falling upon it from high above. Spot making every thing about the piece stand out. The epicenter of a small conversation. It was to be.

Martin was there, sitting, looking quite at home in that small spot of family. Not frozen in place. Merely content with waiting. Merely waiting with that time only the ancients had. The ones that were as old as the couch. Not the reason he had selected the piece. But it had helped.

Yes. Facets. This one red. Dirty red cloth contrasting with those eyes of his.