Victor Stone had resigned himself to the fact that he was completely alone in the world. He had comrades, but they were completely organic. He had people he'd consider calling 'friend', but they were organic as well. They had secret identities. They...
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Being stranded in the middle of a field, with no idea where in the world it was located, wasn't a particularly positive experience. Especially without the use of her legs, and no sign of civilisation anywhere. There were no rural farms off into the distance, nor were there highways with signs detailing the nearest town. There was only a sea of green as far as the eye could see; grass and small sunflowers swaying in the light breeze.
Harper has the very unsavoury thought that she might be stuck there for a while, but much to her great fortune (or misfortune) the sound of crunching boots and heavy footsteps punctured the air. Harper immediately searched for the origin of such a sound, spotting a group of soldiers marching towards her. They were draped in plain brown uniforms and sported a patch of the foreign flag for Bialya on their shoulders; Harper could tell by the black and yellow stripes. A sickening feeling started swirling in her stomach. Bialya wasn't the sort of place that she wanted to be...it was a country under the guise of being a paradise, but beneath the surface it was complete chaos.
After The Queen Bee became ruler of Bialya she seemingly transformed the country overnight. What was once a violent, pock-marked ghetto became a veritable paradise resort. The Queen Bee opened Bialya's doors to commerce. She instituted free food programs, twenty-four hour free medical care for its citizenry, cultural exchange benefits and a 100% employment rate...but that was all to mask its totalitarian government. The Queen Bee also restricted the amount of information her citizens about the outside world, and their own country's focus on military training. She also developed an implant that electronically increased a person's endomorphin levels whenever they were present in Bialya. Leaving the country, however, caused the stimulus to cease, creating what was in effect withdrawal pains. Residents were literally addicted to living in Bialya. So this so called 'paradise' was actually a nation bereft of their freedom.
When the soldiers finally reached her position they stared deadpan from beneath their steel helmets. One of them stepped forward, likely the leader of this small squadron, and spoke...but not in any language that Harper could understand. Bialya was located in the Middle East, somewhere between Iran and Saudi Arabia, and so it was safe to assume that they were speaking either Persian or Arabic. It didn't really matter either way. Harper didn't know any languages apart from English and a very loose understanding of Russian and Chinese from her time in the military.
"Ah... I can't understand you..." Harper muttered, knowing very well that the problem was probably mutual. "English?"
The man yelled again, apparently furious with Harper's untranslated reply. The men behind him pointed their weapons towards her, fingers itching on the trigger. The leader commanded something of Harper, though she wasn't certain exactly what he wanted until he kicked his steel cap boot into her leg. She was grateful that she couldn't feel it.
"Oh...uh...can't walk?" She said in a questioning tone. She was almost certain that they couldn't understand her now, and she had no idea how to explain it to them without words. She pointed towards her legs then shook her head, and when this still didn't seem to get the point across, she reached into her pocket for her lighter. She rolled up the edge of the pants on her right leg and flicked the lighter until a small flame started to burn. She held this flame to the skin of her ankle. As she held it in place the smell of burning flesh filled their senses. The area turned pink, then red, then black. She moved the lighter away, now with a third-degree burn on her ankle, and tucked her lighter away. "See? I can't feel it."
