Gₒₒd ₒₗd₋Fₐₛₕᵢₒₙₑd ₗₒᵥₑᵣ Bₒy ~ Dᵢᵣₖ Gₑₙₜₗy

Out Of The Fryingpan, Into The Fire

[~ Hey I just thought I'd put a quick note, idk if it's happening to any of yous, but for me, even when editing, the chapters are all jumbled up? Idk what that's about, can yous tell me if that's the same for you please? ~]

"Phoenix, you may begin." Sofie, or as the blonde insisted Sicillian now call her, Agent Drisguard, was crackly over the intercom. The young boy and older woman couldn't see her through the one-way glass. The Hollistic Assistant was now in everyway more sympathetic with Dirk. The last time he was being held here, he was in this position. She'd been on the other side, unable to talk to him, now the roles were reversed.

Only he wasn't there to reach out to her.

The brunette frowned slightly, unsure as to what the Agent had meant when she instructed Helios to 'begin'. To be utterly honest, she had no idea what was going, just that the so called Hollistic Arsonist was to be present as their attempted to tap into her new ability.

"You might want to step back." The auburn haired boy shuffled his feet awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. He clearly didn't like what he was about to do. Sicillian reckoned it was to do with whatever made him anomalous. From his project name, Phoenix, to his self description of an arsonist, she had a pretty solid idea what it entailed. Even so, the green eyed American dutifully walked back a few paces, watching Helios flex his hands from side to side, squeezing his eyes shut.

And then there was a flame in his palm.

The assistant's cactus toned irises widened, not quite comprehending what she was seeing. She'd seen a lot of strange shit in her time, but never something on this level. The lick of orange shivered in the static air, leaping and falling like a puppet getting its strings cut and reset every second. It was mesmerising.

"That's bloody amazing." She breathed, using a British idiom that would make a certain detective smirk. If he could hear her. (He couldn't.)

For the first time, a real smile slipped onto the fourteen year old's face, unable to deny the swell of pride at her compliment. No one, especially not an adult had complimented him before. It was a nice feeling that trickled into his core, like drinking hot tea and feeling it slip down your throat, warming your whole body.

His smile faded as he concentrated harder, focusing on keeping the fire small. That was his issue. Control. The first few times he'd had to do this for the Supervisor, he'd ended up swamping the entire west wing in a swirl of heat. That came with consequences. He'd been in Blackwing three years, but had only just started being tested when Freidkin was killed.

The old head of facility left him alone in peace like Helios preferred. Not Adams. Everyday was the same routine, eat, test, eat, rest. And if he didn't comply... Well let's just say another way the two Supervisors differed was their usage of violence.

It calmed him to see the brunette woman smiling at him encouragingly. All he knew about her was from rumours, guardsmen whispering in the dead of night. But she definitely didn't seem as threatening as they made her out to be. Or dangerous as Ken said. Helios had just met the woman, but he had an unmistakable feeling she was important. He just knew these things.

Whenever talk of Sicillian came about, there was another name frequently flung around. Project Icarus, or Dirk, as the young boy found the mystery man commonly referred to. The Hollistic Assistant was in here to lure him in, so he made a deduction they were close. Back when Freidkin was still in charge, he'd be walking back from meals and pass what he now knew was the green eyed woman's old room. The auburn haired boy could usually hear pained screams of this Dirk guy's name coming from inside.

He hoped, if they escaped as promised, she would find him again. It sounded like they really needed each other.

"Cain, ready yourself." Sofie' s bored voice came through the speaker.