The cyborg woman continues to panic about her arm. Her cries of pain sound so sweet. The suffering of heathens is the most beautiful symphony. The older woman isn't moving, staring at me with her eyes that seem to peer through me.

"Transferring damage, substance creation, and that charming effect. Miss, you have quite the array of powers. I would appreciate it if you would turn around and leave. The BNA would be willing to negotiate with you to come to terms both parties find acceptable," she said.

"No. God has decreed that Hero must be freed, and I am but an instrument of His will," I said with conviction.

"In that case, you leave me no choice. Seal us in. Send headquarters the info and lock it all up. It has been a pleasure to work with you all, and I'm sorry," she announced sadly.

Flashing green lights color the room a shade of emerald. The gate behind me slams shut, and I hear locks and tumblers slotting into position. The workers at the computers are hugging each other, and tears are flowing, but all of them have a look of understanding. What has she done? I walk out of the frigid hall with Charles silently following behind me.

"What did you do? Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Special Agent Dominique Broussard, the agent in charge of this floor. And I have locked this floor down completely. You are too dangerous to be allowed to leave, but we both know your power will prevent us from physically stopping you. I've done the next best thing. It doesn't matter what you do now; you're trapped," Special Agent Dominique said.

They don't know about Melanie. She might be able to get us out of here. I don't know where Melanie is right now, but she clearly wasn't able to free Hero. I walk past the Special Agent into the room and take a look around. The soldiers tense when they see me coming closer toward the cells, but they don't act. Charles seemed to be their only shot at capturing or killing me. He told me that if I found promising individuals, I could recruit them to our cause.

The leftmost cell contains a woman with bright orange hair. She's wearing a light blue jumpsuit with the legs and sleeves rolled up. Her arms and legs are covered in severe burn scars. She doesn't even look up when I approach. She's given up. She lacks the willpower needed for His mission. I move past the next cell, it's empty, and on to the third. Inside is a man who appears hazy to my eyes. Not quite smokey, but like I can't quite focus on him or his form. His long black hair hangs over his face but stops right before his jawline. His eyes are an alluring shade of silver.

"What are you here for?" I asked him.

"I stole something the BNA didn't want stolen," he said.

His voice is a deep baritone with an almost ethereal aspect to it. It's similar to hearing someone speaking through a wall. The more I look at him, the hazier he becomes. He brushes his hair out of his face. What color was his hair again?

"He's lying. And I wouldn't keep talking to him if I were you. He's a cognitohazard; the longer you look at him, the more your mind starts to unravel and the hazier he becomes to you until you can no longer perceive him," S.A. Dominique said.

I pull my eyes away from him, and my head starts to clear up immediately. What the fuck kind of power is that? He's too dangerous to free. The man's powers are evil and don't work well with God's message of worthiness and strength. I move on to the next cell and finally see Hero. George Dellinger, I've found you. George is large, easily six foot eight or taller, and currently bound from all sides. His neck has a thick collar attached to a pillar that's forcing him to stay on his knees. His arms and legs have shackles that are over half a foot wide. These are each attached to several taut cables that are embedded in the ground. He's got a black eye, cuts, and bruises all over his body. The lower portion of his jumpsuit is a different color. He peed himself, and they haven't made any effort to help him clean himself up. This poor child. This isn't right. A rage is simmering in my belly, and my throat feels tight.

"Free him immediately," I said.

"No," Dominique said.

"Then tell me how to free him. Do not test my patience," I nearly shouted.

Dominique is just staring at me, her expression blank. These heretics dare to deny God's Chosen? It doesn't matter; I have a way to get him out. Charles is still standing right next to me.

"Charles, free him. Break this cell," I commanded.

Charles doesn't speak but moves to do what I said. My power can make someone into nothing more than a loyal thrall. I can create soldiers out of these heretics. The charmed agent points his hand at the cell, and it glows blue. The blue light flashes, and a layer of white frost explodes out over everything in front of him. The glass is frosted over, and I can't see through it anymore. My thrall kicks the glass, and it explodes, shattering inward. Charles steps into the cell as a ball of heat forms above his other hand. I follow him in; I want to be the first person George sees when he wakes up.

The glow from Charles' orb shows that George is even worse off than I thought. His jumpsuit top is unzipped and hanging loosely behind him. Because of that, I can see how extensive the damage is to his body. There are thousands of healed injuries all over his body, and his back has lines that could only have been caused by a whip. The BNA couldn't have done these; they're years old. I kneel to be at eye level with him, putting the back of my hand to his forehead. He doesn't have a fever but feels slightly clammy to the touch.

"George, are you okay, honey?" I asked.

He groggily grumbles and tries to move until his restraints stop him. I wipe away the grime on his face with the sleeve of my stolen BNA uniform. George starts to wake up, slowly opening his eyes to stare at me. His body might be that of a man's, but the way he looks at me is so innocent that it reveals the child hidden inside. His hazel eyes watch me curiously as I do my best to clean the dirt off him.

"Hello, George, how are you feeling?" I asked.

"Who are you?" He asked curiously.

"I am God's Chosen. You may call me Mother," I answered warmly.

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"You aren't my Mama. And Mama says that you can't take the Lord's name in vain," George said.

He's got a soothing southern accent, and his questions lack any pretense or ulterior motive. The way he speaks is childish, and he's clearly a pure soul. I understand why God has deemed him worthy. I am not one to question His words.

"I would never disrespect the Lord's name; I really am sent by Him. He told me about you and what happened to you. He told me to save you from the bad guys," I recounted calmly.

"Really?" George asked hopefully.

"Yes, He did. Where is your Mama, George? I would never want to keep a child from their mother."

"She said that I did bad and had to go away for a bit," he said sadly.

"That's not true. You did nothing wrong, George. They were evildoers, and the only way to beat evil is to destroy it before it can fester. If your Mama couldn't see that, then she doesn't sound like a very good mama. I would never let my child suffer like you have, George," I said.

"That's what I told Mama. She didn't believe me; she thought I was fibbing. She said Georgie, are you telling your mama a fib? I swear I wasn't fibbing," he said.

"God knows you aren't a fibber, George. He has seen what you've done, and He thinks you're a sweet boy who just lost his way a little," I said, smiling. "How would you like to get out of here? You don't have to stay here anymore."

I start using my power on him little by little. Not enough to get him to the state I kept Melanie in, but to make him like me more. He never said this journey would be an easy one. George's mother is a worthless disgrace to the title. Abandoning your child is unforgivable, and so is harming them. Either she is the one who hurt him, or she is, at the very least, complicit.

"You promise? Cause I don't like tricks, and I'll get mad if you're pulling a trick," he said seriously.

"I promise. And I never break my promises. Your Mama left you, but I won't, George," I said, keeping my hand against his skin.

"Mama left me?" He asked quietly.

"Yes. Think about how long you've been here; if she were going to visit you, she would have by now. I bet you've been wishing she'd come, right?"

"Yeah," George said softly.

"Well, it wasn't your Mama who answered your wishes and prayers. It was our Almighty Father in heaven. He hasn't abandoned you, even if your Mama has," I said.

"Mama wouldn't do that. She's tough, but she always says that tough love is still love. You're wrong. Mama wouldn't leave me," George disagreed.

"Yes, she did. Look around you; your Mama left you to rot here. But God heard your prayers, and He sent me to free you. Because he wants you to continue to fight the villains. God wants you to be a Hero, George," I said, pumping more of the drug into him.

"Mama did say to live good because God is watching. He wants me to be a hero?" George asked curiously.

"Yes. How about this: I'll get you out of this cell, and you help me get out of this place. Then we can go visit your Mama together, and you'll see that I'm telling the truth," I suggested.

If she's a true believer, she will give her blessing for George to work towards His ideal world. If she's as bad a mother as I think, she won't react well when she sees George. Either works for His plans.

"Okay," George said happily.

I instruct Charles to free George, and he creates an orb of heat to melt through the cables. George stretches himself out, flapping his arms like wings, as he savors the mobility he now has. The manacles and collar are too close to his skin for me to risk Charles burning him. Several gunshots go off from outside the cell, but I don't hear any screaming. I rush out of the cell to get a look and see that all of the BNA employees at the computers are dead with a clean headshot. The jailers outside the cells are slumped over, foam bubbling out of all of their mouths. Even the cyborg is dead on the walkway. The only living person is Special Agent Dominique, holding a handgun.

"My power allows me to gradually understand someone's powers the longer I observe them in use. You are too dangerous to be allowed to roam. I won't let anyone else fall prey to you. It's too late for Charles, but I won't condemn those under my command to become mindless servants. You will die down here, unable to escape, and starve to death," Special Agent Dominique said sorrowfully.

"CHARLES, STOP HER!" I shouted.

Charles starts moving, but he's not fast enough to be able to reach her. George is behind me, and speed isn't his specialty. Her power is too strong to lose here. His goals would be so much easier with her. Dominique aims the gun at her temple, and my mind is racing to figure out a way to save her. None of my powers are long-range. NO!

Dominique screams as her knee explodes. She falls forward, the gun slipping from her temple, and the bullet goes through her cheek and out the bottom of her jaw. Melanie slowly appears behind Dominique, and her little gray hand is covered in blood. She runs over to the gun the way only little kids do and kicks the gun away. Her black eyes and blank expression stare at me and give me a thumbs up. I'm so proud.

Dominique is screaming, and it's a gurgling whine like a drowning animal. Her right cheek is gone, the teeth visible, and she's using a hand to try and plug the blood pouring out of her face. Her other arm is pressing against the stump of her knee. The Godless do not deserve sympathy or kindness. It was only her power that made me want to save her life. Charles is still standing by idly, his small red orb floating at the end of his finger.

"Cauterize her knee," I commanded.

Charles makes his way to the downed agent and places the hot sphere against her stump for a brief second. It flashsears her knee like a steak, and the smell of charred flesh fills my nostrils. The scent of burning flesh isn't new to me; it even feels familiar. Why is that? George comes out of the cell, looking around at all the dead people.

"You got the villains. Nice!" He said excitedly.

"Hey. HEY. I've got something to say," said a voice from the next cell over.

I walk over to the cell and see a young black woman, early twenties, and stunningly beautiful. It's the type of perfection that reminds me of the vision I had of Him. She's smiling, observing me as we stand in front of each other. I have an odd feeling inside my chest when I look at her. Could she be worthy of joining our holy cause?

"You're getting out of here, right? Let me come with you. I can definitely help you out," she offered.

"How?"

"I'm a Tinkerer, and my specialization is prosthetics and body mods. I can help you keep the Special Agent alive," she said, grinning.

"You wish to join our holy mission? Our crusade isn't a club that you can just join and leave whenever you want," I warned.

"I'm talking more of a short-term partnership, and then we go our separate ways. I'm more of a freelancer than a team player," she responded.

How dare she disrespect my offer? I feel my body start to shake in anger at the blatant blasphemy she displays.

"Accept her terms, my Chosen."

"What, but why?" I asked Him.

"You will not be able to convert everyone immediately. Some require a lighter touch. She may yet join our cause in time," He said to me.

"I understand. I will free you in exchange for your saving the Special Agent, and then we shall escape together," I said.

"That sounds perfect, Miss…"

"You may call me Mother. I will see to it that no harm befalls you, child."

"Okay, Mother, I'm Doll. Let me out and I'll get started," Doll said.

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