Changed by Time ✔

twenty-seven.

2312 hours

Abigail could hear Andrea muttering and angry clicking. She slowly opened her eyes, watching as Andrea fiddled with the rifle and continued cursing at it.

Abigail scrunched her eyes, attempting to push herself up as she realized that her hands were tied behind her back and ropes were tied around her torso. She tried to move her feet but found that they were bound together too.

"Don't bother," Andrea said without looking away. "One of the first things they taught us in the Clover Program was how to tie and untie complicated knots. Different ones from what you were probably taught."

"Why am I not dead?" Abigail asked, struggling to sit up as she simply rolled back and forth.

"Because that wouldn't be productive for either one of us, my dear." Andrea finally fired off the bullet that was loaded into the ceiling of the cave and threw the rifle further into it. "I have plans that seem to be going quite well as of this moment."

"Let me guess, you're going to kill my dad and make me watch."

Andrea turned back, an almost impressed expression on her face. She grabbed the ropes and pulled Abigail into an upright position.

"Did you know that during the early stages of the program, your father would bring you into the lab to talk to us?" Andrea kneeled in front of her, clearly flashing the metal-plated gloves to her. "Just when you were a baby and before the government decided to make our group into a covert ops team."

"No," Abigail responded. "I didn't know that. I didn't realize he'd bring me down there. What? As his mini back-up—"

"I know what you're doing." Andrea held Abigail's earpiece, pinched between two of her fingers. She squeezed and instantly broke the device. "Please, you're trying to fool someone whose entire job was to take down other people like you... and more..."

"Dad told me all about what you guys did," Abigail stated. "He even planned for me to take part in the next round of the Clover Program – to lead the next generation of whatever you guys were. But that didn't work out because the England source was destroyed."

"You're welcome, by the way." Andrea had a hauntingly friendly expression painted over her face. "You wouldn't have been able to handle the program, both the substance and the team. We aren't just another version of your little co-ops mission. The Clover Program created a group of monsters that Dr. Frankenstein couldn't quite control."

"So you admit you're monsters?" Abigail tilted her head slightly.

"Of course we are – of course I am. Not for what I've done, but what I've been made into. That doesn't mean I appreciate being called one though. Ask your little operative friend down—" She cut herself off, gesturing further into the cave. "Oh right, that might be a little hard with his skull bashed in."

"What happened to you, Andrea?" Abigail asked, leaning towards her. "Dad always said that you were the kindest yet the deadliest outcome of the Clover Program. Now you talk about murder and complete destruction as if it were just another Tuesday."

"Your father and everyone else in the program killed my husband." Andrea's expression grew darker. "I was made to do horrendous things that kindness wouldn't rectify. You can't soften the feeling of toxins flooding your system and causing you endless amounts of pain with a simple smile. Pain isn't cancelled out with kindness."

Andrea's lips curled into a soft smile. "I'm sure you're well aware of that, Ms. Clover, seeing as it's just what you happen to do every day for a wage that never seems like enough. I wasn't even paid for what I did... I just did it because I thought if I didn't I'd lose everything. The thought of my life ending either literally or figuratively was a risk I just couldn't take."

Abigail wasn't sure how to respond. The woman who sat in front of her, a woman whose smile could've brightened a room enough to rival the sun, was in so much pain. Pain that could've been avoided with a few simple steps.

Now that pain had manifested into something ugly – something dangerous. Abigail now understood why her father spoke about these people with caution in his tone and emphasized just what they could do.

This is what they could do.

2325 hours

Wendy ran through the rocks, leaping over them with a slight boost from her abilities. She kept at a quick speed, not stopping for a second as she didn't want to risk getting shot or even slipping on the rocks.

She wore the fox mask Andrea wore previously, quickly realizing that it was not just a simple wooden mask. It was strong and light – enough to act as face protection. Not enough from a bullet, but certainly to a lot of other hits.

I know this may not be the only reason Mom wears this thing, she thought as she reached the final rocks before the side of the cave. But I have to admit, I do feel really cool when I wear it.

Wendy took a couple larger jumps, landing on one of the rocks and pushing off of it with three times the force she had with the other rocks. The blue vapor began trailing off her legs as she rose up the wall.

She pulled out one of the sticks of dynamite from the duffle bag as she slowed her rise. She eventually stopped as she reached the cave's ceiling. She gripped onto a couple of the stalactites, pushing herself around them as she looked for certain places to set the dynamite.

With Nolan on the ground, the two planned to place the sticks of dynamite in the weak points of the cave. By lighting one of them, the explosion from it would light the other sticks and blow up the ceiling of the cave. It'd bring the hundreds of pounds of rocks down and bury the SuperSource.

Of course, destroying it would take way more than eight sticks of dynamite, but they didn't have the resources nor the time. They weren't even sure if the SuperSource could've been blown up at all.

Wendy finally found a large crack between a couple of the stalactites on the ceiling. She shoved the stick in her hand into the crack, making sure it was secure before she left to place another. She kept going with two more sticks, leaving her with just two left.

She placed the fourth stick closer towards the SuperSource itself – right above the golden pool. She did not shove it into one of the meteorite's cracks, though she almost did before realizing just how large it truly was.

How is it that more people haven't discovered this damn thing? she thought, floating a little back and securing the stick into one of the ceiling cracks.

Wendy turned back and pulled out the final stick of dynamite. She shoved it into the belt of her jumpsuit and zipped up the duffle bag, throwing it over her back. She looked around the area, debating where to place her last stick.

That was when she noticed a large crack closer to the entrance to the cave... which was also their only exit. While it made her a bit nervous to place it right in front of their exit, she knew that it was better that they did than to leave it untouched.

She flew over, pressing her fingers against the cracks as she pulled the stick of dynamite out of her belt and shoved it into one of them. She secured the fifth stick of dynamite and looked back down to Nolan, watching as he ran through the rocks and towards one of the walls to place his own sticks.

Wendy looked further up, spotting what looked like to be another person. They were lying on the ground, their hands resting beside their head. Their right wrist appeared to be disfigured, clearly broken. Even from the high altitude, she could tell that they were laying in a pool of their own blood.

Who is that? she thought, increasingly horrified by the sight. Who did that? Wait... Don't tell me that—

She was interrupted from her thoughts as she heard someone beginning to come into the cave. She looked over to the entrance and flew over to it, spotting a rope dangling from outside. She watched as it shimmied, another one of the operatives rappelling down it at an alarming rate.

Wendy didn't have any time to think as the operative slid down, slamming their foot against her face. She flipped downward twice, eventually catching herself midair. She felt blood begin to drip down from her nose underneath the mask.

Just great, she thought as she readjusted her plated gloves. Company.