"Charles, free this prisoner," I commanded.

My charmed Special Agent activates his cold power, aiming his finger gun at the glass. The wall frosts over, and before I can have George break it, Doll charges through it. Shards of glass and ice explode outward, and I push Melanie behind me to shield her from them. I didn't notice it before because she wasn't moving, but the female Cowl is truly alien. It isn't just that she looks too perfect, her face too symmetrical, her eyes slightly larger than usual, giving them a cute doe eye effect. Her hips are wide, and her waist is tight and thin in a way that isn't anatomically possible. Doll's breasts are perky, flawlessly symmetrical, and don't sway when she moves. They don't look fake, but they don't behave like normal breasts do. Her smooth, slender legs, dainty hands, and immaculate teeth add to the uncanny valley feeling I'm getting from her.

She saunters over toward the downed Special Agent with an aura of grace and poise. It reminds me of something that's on the tip of my tongue. She's inhuman. The way her body sways hypnotically as she approaches is like that of a lion on the hunt. The Tinkerer is a predator and very dangerous. Did He know she was like this? Tinkerers have a reputation for being crafty and having more of a supportive role. Why do I get the feeling that she is an exception to the norm? I trust in His judgment and would never question our Lord's plan. If He desires Doll to join my flock, then I will do anything to fulfill His wishes.

Doll crouches down next to Dominique and lifts her with one arm, while her other hand picks up the chunk of cheek off the floor. The Tinkerer carries the woman over to where all the computers and dead BNA workers are. She rips strips of cloth from a dead woman's blouse and wraps them around Dominique's face to stem the bleeding. I follow her and grab a few of the chairs that are no longer in use. I give the least bloody one to Melanie to sit on, her little legs kicking in the air as they dangle. The other I offer to George, and he sits, making sure to thank me. What a well-mannered boy. Charles stands silently next to me like a royal guard as I take my seat alongside Melanie. I will ring every drop of usefulness out of you, heretic.

Doll starts ripping open panels at the computers with her bare hands, extracting components, wires, bolts, and other pieces she needs. She moves with a savage precision, practiced motions she's done hundreds of times. I watch as she creates organized piles next to her patient as she prepares for the procedure. Doll is someone who will fit nicely within the vision He has for the world. Despite her refusal to immediately join us, I find a begrudging sense of respect for her burgeoning. She made a deal and is immediately working to fulfill her side of it. Once she finishes getting everything she needs, she looks over at where I'm sitting.

"How advanced would you like this process to be?" Doll asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I can fix her up, do the bare minimum just to get her ready to move. Or I can augment her, add a couple of extras if you have requests. Fair warning: without a lab, a 3d printer, and more supplies, I can't make synthetic skin. Same goes for any more complicated machinery or weapons," Doll answered casually.

"Do not question your instincts. I chose you for a reason," His voice echoed in my head.

Dominique's power is too valuable to lose. She can help us find Neuvohumans that are hiding. There will be a nearly endless supply of enemies to our cause. She can help keep us prepared and safe. Looking over Melanie and George, I want to protect them from the wrongness of our world. But that is a selfish desire. They deserve to be allowed to make decisions and help fix the rot. Special Agent Dominique is special and not just due to her ability. She made the tough decision without a second thought once she realized the danger I posed—a decisive leader, worthy of a second chance.

"Can you make changes to whatever you do, or is it permanent?"

"As long as what you want done doesn't require replacing something vital, then I can always make changes at a later date. But remember, our deal is I save her life and you help me get out of here. Anything else you want done will have to be a separate deal and require payment," Doll negotiated.

The urge to hurt this woman grows stronger every time I hear her speak. She should be thrilled for the opportunity to help realize God's wish for the mortal plane. But I quiet that part of my brain down, and smile at her.

"Barebones for the leg, but take care with the face. I will help you get set up and provide whatever materials you need to fix her face properly. We can figure out the payment once we're free of the BNA," I acquiesced.

Doll starts as soon as I agree. She wraps a tourniquet around the upper thigh of the damaged leg and then starts on the face. From her right-hand's index finger emerges a sharp needle. She grabs the remainder of the white blouse off the dead woman, holding it with her right hand. The blouse begins unwinding as the arm rotates around. Doll removes the strips of cloth from Dominique's face gently and starts suturing the loose hanging flesh back together. The sewing is quick, steady, and most of all neat. Before I know it, she's working on the cheek. It's a very bloody affair, but Doll shows no signs of discomfort. She's no stranger to bloody work. What did she do to get stuck here?

"Scuse me, ma'am. When can we leave to go see Mama?" George asked me, interrupting my thoughts.

"I understand how eager you are to leave, George. We just have to wait for Doll to patch up our new friend, and then we can go," I answered, patting him on the arm. I use my power to keep George content and calm. He's been locked up so long, and with the situation with his mother, I can understand his eagerness to leave. "Melanie, sweetheart, why don't you and George go for a walk and explore. By the time you're back, Doll should be done."

"Okay, Mother," Melanie said, hopping off her seat.

Melanie and George look at each other awkwardly. And I realize I didn't do any introductions. How rude of me. Melanie's a young kid, and she might need help making friends. George will make an excellent older brother to her. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but George coming with us was foretold, and his Mama is a wretched bitch who neglected her child.

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"Forgive me, children. George, this is Melanie, my daughter. Melanie, this is George," I said.

"I thought Heroes did the saving, but we had to rescue you, Mister Hero," she said plainly.

"You're not a very nice ghost," George responded.

"I'm not a ghost," Melanie argued dispassionately.

"Pale like a ghost, invisible like a ghost, and spooky like a ghost. You're a ghost," George continued.

"Children, stop fighting. Let Doll work in peace," I said sternly.

"Sorry, Mother. Cmon, George, I'll show you around. I explored the place while I was looking for you."

Melanie lifts up both of their chairs with her powers and floats them over to where I grabbed them from. Such a polite girl. George watches her do this with his face lit up and a huge smile plastered on it. He loves her telekinetic display and starts begging her to do more as they walk out of the room together. Doll gives me a grateful nod and starts carefully picking through the piles and grabbing what look to be random pieces. Her needle retracts back into her finger as she gathers what she needs. It takes a bit, but the shape begins to resemble a knee, calf, and foot clearly. She puts her index and middle fingers together, and a small jet of flame emerges from them. Doll's skin seems to be fireproof as she holds together pieces of metal with her unprotected hands while welding. My eyes wander away from her over to the other two cells. That cognitohazard man has been silent since Dominique warned us about him. Should I kill him before we leave? The vacant burn victim might as well be dead for all the lack of life in her. Being weak can be remedied, but letting yourself be broken down and giving in is unforgivable.

______________________________________________________________________

An odd sound from where Doll's working brings my attention back to her. Her left arm splits in two, folding upon itself, with a pole extending out that has a rapidly unfolding saw blade. How long has it been and what's the saw for? Doll's eyes don't blink as her left arm saws through the cauterized stump of a knee. Fresh blood trickles out, the flow being held back by the tourniquet. The prosthetic has a scavenged look to it, like it was found at a garage sale. Thick bolts, metal tubes, computer boards, gears, and tons of wires with attached ports are jammed together to mimic the shape of a lower leg with an additional sleeve to slot onto the thigh. The knee has a piece that looks like a mix between an apple corer and one of those novelty full-head scratches. She jams that part into the stump, and it buries itself within before automatically starting to tighten itself. Doll slides the sleeve onto the older woman's thigh and then uses the saw to make an incision on the upper portion of the thigh. The saw blade retracts, and she reaches her hand into the hole, feeling around for something. She finds it and then begins attaching the wires into the stump, the hole in her thigh, and connecting a couple of wires back into the prosthetic. The last thing she does is grab some metal sheets she removed from the control center and starts bending them with her bare hands. She wraps them all around the leg's internals, and the limb starts to actually look like a usable limb, albeit a chrome one with a rectangular block for a foot. A driver bit emerges from her pinky and Doll starts screwing in the outer shell to the leg. Dominique wakes up as the screws go into her fleshy thigh.

"AHHHHHHH!" Dominique screamed.

Dominique holds her hands up to her face, feeling the stitches and looking up at Doll. Her eyes harden, and she moves to tear them, but the Tinkerer grabs her wrists before she can. Doll's strength is exceptional; her arms don't budge an inch as the Special Agent struggles against her grip. I quickly walk over to them, kneeling down next to the heretic. My hands move on their own and close around her throat.

"You tried to take your life to escape me. You thought you could deny my will, defy the Almighty's will? You dared to suggest that serving as a part of His plan was worse than dying? You are an ignorant heretic, a faithless blasphemer, and worst of all, a mortal believing themselves above God. My mission is holy, my cause is righteous, and you can die when I say you can die," I screamed furiously.

She attempts to speak as spit and blood bubble out of her mouth. She stills as I pump my drug into her, more than I ever have tried to before. Doll releases her hold as the struggling stops. You aren't a soldier, you aren't a person; you're a tool. And I'll use you until you're blunted, broken, and useless. Her eyelids flutter as her eyes roll into the back of her head. I loosen my grip to stop myself from accidentally killing her, but I don't stop using my power even after she passes out. I keep it going for ten extra minutes before I stand up. You thought I would be trapped down here forever, but I'm getting out of here, and you're coming with me.

"My end of the deal is done. Are we ready to go?" Doll asked.

"Yes. We just need to grab the children, and then we can make our way out of here. Charles, pick her up off the floor and follow me," I commanded.

"I'll grab the patient as long as every other part of our escape is handled. What is your plan to get us out of here?" Doll asked.

"We're leaving the same way we entered."

Doll scoops up the unconscious woman and follows me as I lead her back the way we came. I begin calling out to Melanie and George to let them know it's time to go. The bottom of the boots I stole squeak as we walk across the metal grates, the frost from earlier melting rapidly. It isn't long before I hear giggling and stomping echoing through the empty prison and getting louder. As we journey through the hallways and connecting rooms, we are getting closer to the sound.

I find the two children in the room we first entered and where agents accosted us. All the agents are dead, with bullet holes in the center of every one of their foreheads. Even the Special Agent with the southern drawl and the woman in pajamas killed themselves. Blasphemers till the very end. Melanie is floating around in the air, and George is chasing after her. That is new. The two of them are having fun together, even if Melanie's face is almost completely neutral with only the smallest hint of a smile. George's bare feet and trousers are splattered with the blood of all the agents. He's splashing through the crimson puddles as he chases Melanie.

"It's time to leave," I announced.

"We're going to see Mama?" George asked excitedly.

"First, we have to escape and get away from all the bad guys. We might have to fight some villains on our way out of here. Are you okay to fight, George?" I asked.

Melanie floats down to the ground, and George looks at me with all joy wiped from his face. His eyes are intensely focused, and the childish mannerisms are gone. George is gone, and Hero is here instead.

"I will eliminate all evil people. I am Hero, defender of justice. And ma'am, I will protect you," Hero said.

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