The Trial of Dreams and Memories (TMM 2)

Flowers

Morai bared her teeth, her face twisting into anger. 

"You...you're the reason I'm here!" she shouted, pushing Arthur away and turning the rest of her body toward the scientist. She held an accusatory finger in his face, holding his gaze with her nearly unblinking red eyes. 

"For good reason," Colress simply replied. "You look healthier."

Morai's frown grew deeper. She could almost see the black color returning to the veins in her hands as that terrible poison surged through her system, cutting off her psychic abilities and nearly paralyzing her in agony. She shook the faded memory off with a toss of her head. 

"I'm going repay your little favor," she said with a guttural laugh. I'm going to tear you to—"

"Morai!" Sheridan interrupted, raising her voice to cut through the prisoner's violent focus. After seeing that she had her attention, Sheridan relaxed her shoulders and sat down with a soft smile. "Might I remind you that the decision of whether or not you go to Alola is still in our hands. If you are deemed to be too violent and untrustworthy, you will not go. Anyone wanting to challenge you will just have to do without."

Morai glared at the chief of staff, her eyes wide and her pupils constricted. She had a slight tilt to her head, frozen in place as if waiting for the woman to backtrack. She, too, finally relaxed her shoulders with a sigh. 

"Very well, then, Mrs. Sheridan," she softly hissed, putting extra enunciation on the name. That was all she said before slowly blinking, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, giving Colress a silently threatening and cutting look on her way out. It still gave him the chills, evoking some instinctive involuntary response that seemed to take hold of everyone that looked in those cold and unloving eyes. 

A soft knock sounded on the door of the room minutes after Morai had left and after the rest of the meeting had been conducted. Sheridan was sitting alone at her desk quite pleased with herself, hoping that the chance of leaving her cathedral-prison was what it would take for Morai to keep control of her actions. 

"Um, Mrs. Sheridan?" the small silhouette that had appeared in the door softly asked. The woman looked up from her desk to see an Aether Foundation employee. 

"Yes?" she said. "You're one of the new transfers,  right?"

"Yes ma'am," the employee answered. 

"Are you having trouble getting settled?"

"Oh, no ma'am...It's just that...well you see...I'd like to be transferred back."

Sheridan straightened up in her chair, leaning forward a bit. 

"Oh? Why is that?" she asked, putting her interlocked fingers in front of her face.

"I believe I'm in danger," the employee flatly answered. "I think The Mask M—er, Morai, has it out for me."

"She's got it out for everyone," Sheridan replied with something that almost sounded like a chuckle. "But if you'd really like to leave, it will take some time. Trips out of here have to be carefully arranged and Lusamine just left. Do you think you can last a few days? Morai currently has every reason not to harm anyone."

The Aether employee's shoulders slumped a little and she looked down for a moment. 

"Yes, I suppose so," she finally replied. "Thank you."

I won't leave here unscathed, she thought. 

Morai was nearly dragging her feet across the cold floor. Unsure of where she even wanted to go, the prisoner lied herself down right in the middle of the hall as guards looked at each other and shrugged.