[color=#33CC00]/accessing personal log files…
/searching for earliest dated file…
/found dated 11-26-797 A.S.
/continue? y/n…
/y
/opening file 'phnxlabs-int’…
Hola, my name is Antonio. Antonio Aguila.
I am a scientist; for the Maltese, of course. I’ve been the leading authority on the substance known as cardamine for over 25 years now. Projects I've headed and taken part in have involved application, dependence, inhalation systems, concentration levels, the effects on the body, and more. Put simply, I am a cardamine researcher, and I have been for some time.
Most recently, I have been involved in a very interesting project. A hypothetical method of concentrating cardamine in its most basic and most malleable form, for a drastic case of integration into the human body. I will explain this in layman’s terms, to keep this brief and understandable. As we know, cardamine is far more than a simple drug to achieve a high on. Through use, cardamine imbues a variety of positive side effects. Clarity, faster reflexes, longer lifespan, and many more perks we do not fully comprehend have been realized. As a result of this near miraculous list of side effects, the Maltese enjoy length of life most throughout Sirius would not believe. It is not unheard of for the average man or woman to live upwards of a hundred years of age, and far higher ages have been recorded. We also know well of cardamine’s curse, that of dependency. Once addicted to the substance, lack of exposure or intake results in the user experiencing severe withdrawal symptoms, and eventually, death. In recreational use, such as by the Rogues of Liberty, not including the latter event, for the most part.
My project, the Phoenix Project, looks to bring cardamine to another level, one never dreamed of. The idea lies within an ultra concentrated material made up of base cardamine components, as well as key other agents. Through intensive gene therapy and component integration, the cocktail is introduced in an extreme and all inclusive fashion into the subject’s very DNA. This, theoretically, should result in untold cell regeneration abilities, and amplified effects of what we already know of cardamine. Needless to say, the results of such a process will be nothing short of amazing.
I will chronicle my experiments as time allows,
Dr. Aguila.
Dull colors hazed in and out of the mans field of perception, weak and shallow breathes the only sounds playing in his head. He lifted a finger reflexively, trying to pull himself to together, an odd flicker flashing against his half closed eyelids a moment later and bringing a rush of clarity to his mind. He reared up from on his back, pulling violently against what where quickly realized to be cold, metal restraints against his wrists. A fierce pain instantaneously shot through his limbs as the lashings hummed devilishly and sent a debilitating shock through his body. He dropped down to his back instinctively, his eyes rolling back in his head in surprise and pain.
Please, please! A voice cut through the confusion. Stop that!
The flow of electricity shuddered to halt, leaving the man panting and befuddled on the table. His eyes shot to his right, looking the one speaking up and down. He appeared to be in his twenties or thirties, with wavy black hair falling just above his moderately built shoulders. His face was defined and strong, powerful blue eyes at either side of his sharp nose. The unknown detainee ran through his immediate memory, recognizing the stranger as of Hispanic descent. His vision flashed across the other people in the room, noticing easily that they all looked to be of the same nationality. He tore through his mind, digging through the irrelevant information and bits impossible to discern. He was a prisoner of either the Outcasts, or the Corsairs. While he could get a grip on very little, one thing sang clearly.
He had to get out.
The first one stood at his side with a strangely curious look across his face. Are you okay? Can you hear me?
The prisoner replied with a vicious jerk at his right arms restraint, an ear piercing snap of metal fiber shooting through the room as his hand found itself instantly around the Hispanics throat. The captives eyes burned through the mans head, furious and confused. Another crippling jolt of electricity shot through his body, his hand losing grip and his body falling back to the table. The Hispanic hopped backwards, rubbing his neck and shaking his head to shrug off the buzz of voltage shooting through his body as well.
Nn, who the bloody hell are you? He demanded as the remaining restraint gave up its current. Where am I, dammit!
An aide rushed over to his side, jabbing a thick needle in his neck and scurrying off before he could react.
Remarkable The Hispanic mused aloud. Im sorry, please dont fight us. We mean you no harm.
His energy level faded slightly, clearly an effect of the substance shot into his neck. He readied himself to break the other restraint, but abandoned the idea after realizing that he could barely lift his head.
No harm, aye? Give me one good reason I should believe that. He bit back, his eyes scanning his surroundings.
The room was large, incredibly so, he noticed. The ceiling rose for what looked to be thirty feet or so, multiple levels of footing visible from his position. His peripherals were mostly unseen, due to what looked like hospital curtains around the area he was in. Wherever he was, it looked to be set up for a massive undertaking. It only confused him even more.
Hm, yes, I can see how it might look. The man sighed, rubbing a light five o clock shadow across his chin with a sudden look of intrigue. I am sorry for this, really. We simply couldnt be sure of your reaction. He chuckled gravely, looking into the captives eyes. You cant blame us after that, really.
He returned the mans gaze with an intense stare, his mind poring over everything that was being thrown at it, easing his gaze after a moment. Fine, Ill give you that much, but what do you want with me? Why am I here in the first place?
Ill answer anything and everything you want to know, but I cant right now. Im sorry.
He shot the Hispanic and incredulous look. Not now? The hell is that supposed to mean?
Im sorry, but we fear damaging your mind and health by throwing this much new information at you so quickly. Youll need to sleep now. He explained, his lip twisting fractionally in helplessness.
Like hell Im going to As the words left his mouth a veil of black fell over his vision. How in the?
Sorry, that injection should have put you down instantly. Incredible, that reaction He chuckled tiredly, turning around and plucking a chart off of a table nearby. I promise well talk later. Ill tell you anything you want to know.
The detainee opened his mouth to reply, but he was already too far gone. His head rolled to the side as slumber overtook him.
Let me know the moment he wakes up. The Hispanic nudged a woman on the shoulder, receiving a nod in turn. Nine is the magic number, it seems
[color=#33CC00]/accessing personal log files
/searching for next file
/found dated 10-13-798 A.S.
/continue? y/n
/y
/opening file 'phnx-one
After almost a year of preparation, and countless discussions with the Council, the Phoenix Project is finally under way. The ramifications of this process are unfathomable; I can only dream of what it will bring to Maltas future.
At least, I did.
Harriet Vasquez, my faithful assistant over almost a decade of work in this project as well as in others. Its no secret that Ive a brilliant mind, but quite honestly, it would be nothing without hers. Her invaluable insight has always acted as a sort of catalyst to my own, and more than that, shes been my closest friend. I was foolish, cocky, too blinded by possibilities and outcomes to take enough precautions. I still dont know if Ill ever begin to forgive myself after what happened.
Put simply, Harriet volunteered herself to be the first testing subject. I tried to dissuade her from the decision, naturally, but her mind was already made up. While we were provided grants, a compound for our research, resources, and everything else we needed to carry out our work, there was still one thing we wouldnt have access to any time soon; a human test subject. With a process such as this, its impossible to carry out experimentation on animals. Cardamine is potent substance, even to the human body, so when introduced in such an intensive and pure form, animal bodies simply could never handle it. The human body is resilient, and has already shown advanced evolution as a result of the genetic mutation. With animals, that has not been the case, so while Maltan wildlife still possess the dependency, they do not feel the effects of enhanced lifespan and others.
Regardless, I should have pushed her harder, but the truth is that I myself wanted to see the project go forward just as much or more than she did. I was impatient; I didnt want to wait the countless months it would take to acquire a volunteer for the process. So I agreed, carelessly, and have suffered the consequences.
No, I havent suffered; she has.
On paper, the science behind the procedure was faultless. I didnt think anything could go wrong, and sadly, neither did she. Everything began without a hitch, as well. The concentrated substance was introduced to the system, and the rapid gene therapy began. The body accepted the process completely, but the integration was essentially a dead one. The catalyst, a cocktail of numerous materials, fabricated to activate the substance, was introduced.
And everything fell apart.
Her liver failed almost instantly. The development caught me off guard, but I could compensate. Once I had her liver stable, however, just about every other organ you could think of decided to reject the process. Both kidneys, her lungs, and fatally, her heart. I still cant get rid of the image in my head Her cell structure fell apart; her skin turned to paper; her bones to ash; her flesh to paste; her eyes to pools of black in her face. God damn it I dont know if I can do this anymore. I cant put anyone else through that, but then I try to think what Harriet would say; what she would want me to do. The answer is obvious, but theres more I need to decide for myself before I make a decision.
My next entry remains tentative in nature. Reflection and time will decide the future of the project.
Doctor Antonio Aguila ran an idle hand through his thick, dark brown locks, sighing wistfully as he set a datapad down on the desk before him. The project was losing its wind, and rightfully so. So many subjects; so many failures; so many needless deaths. Aguilas troubled conscience had reared its head too many times to count over the years, but as long as the project remained, he couldnt disappoint. Science went beyond morality at times, and if the end justified the means, who was he to let his own guilt cripple such an opportunity? All the same, there was no way he could send healthy young Maltans to their early deaths, even if it was in the name of science.
Then there was Six. One of the strongest subjects to date, being the very reason he was considered in the first place. Young, experienced, and durable, with a powerful mind to match, the man was the last person Aguila wanted to send to his demise. Regardless, the Council wouldnt hear it. The project was still too important, so in spite of the increasing futility and recklessness, it continued. After five funerals, however, Aguila was naturally hesitant to fuel the pyre any more than he already had.
Ironically, after nearly a year of purposeful procrastination and fabricated hang ups, a call came in, making the attempt to freeze the project useless. The subject was dead, and Antonio had nothing to do with it. He didnt know what to think at that moment; it was as if death was laughing him in the face. But the reaper had given him something new; something that sparked his wonderfully brilliant mind. What had it given him? A cold, lifeless body.
The innovative but admittedly experimental process of cardamine integration and genetic enhancement was actually flawless on paper, but after multiple failures, the faults slowly became clearer. The human body was a delicate machine; one with unlimited possibility, but apparently still fraught with hack-proof fail-safes. Cardamine already put you on a different level; changed your very genetic makeup; but had its drawbacks regardless. No matter what Aguila adapted or changed in the process, the body simply couldnt take the abuse. He may as well be trying to find a way to put a Titan power core into a Legionnaire chassis. He could introduce the process as slow as he desired, but as Four had proven, as soon as cardamine integration effects surpassed lifetime exposure levels, everything fell apart. Organ failure ensued, most vitally, as well as things that the troubled man rather not even call to mind. Aguila had already resigned himself to the firm belief that the human body simply was not built achieve such levels of evolution. He believed in God, so if the creator had set a limit, what right did he have to defy it?
But the cadaver of the unfortunate Six got his mind turning. The fate of the first five was a sort of overload; choking an engine with too much fuel; drowning a plant with too much water. The new thought scared him slightly; the notion that if you were already dead, how could you be overfed in such a process? Six was stiff and frigid by the time he reached the compound, and the process began ASAP. Integration, stabilization, gene therapy, and everything else that made up the incredible process went by with little trouble. Sixs poor mind was damaged beyond recognition, though, and Aguila knew it. Either way, there was little that could be done about that. This was an experiment, really as much as it was with One. What would come of it? Antonio could only speculate.
And it worked. The process worked to perfection; you couldnt overfill a bucket with almost nothing in it. Six was alive; breathing and thinking; but not comprehending. His mind was a circuit board scorched and burned beyond repair, and he now had frightening power in his hands. Three in the compound were injured that day, suffering various breaks and fractures from Sixs violent awakening. The success was bittersweet, at best. While the process had succeeded, there were still too many variables to account for, not to mention the result was a mindless brute. Far from a success, by definition.
Aguila shuddered, recalling the next. No, he promised himself that he wouldnt dwell on Seven during the day; the night was enough. Eight was no better a memory, and was surprisingly, the beginning of the end. Antonio shrugged off the thoughts, bringing himself back to the present. Yes, the project had looked to be drawing its last breaths, but that was fine with him. He was tired of failure; not because it hurt his ego, but because of its effect. If the Council agreed to close it down, he would welcome it.
And now there was Nine.
The project was all but frozen when the revelation occurred; something he should have realized sooner. He cursed himself for the error, but there was little time for rebukes, there was work to be done. There was no more room for hesitation or oversights, Nine would succeed, and if he didnt, the project would do exactly what it should have done long ago.
Phoenix would die.
Its unbelievable He muttered to himself. Simply unbelievable.
Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined how things would pan out. In some ways, Nine was the first; the first subject who had the proper forethought put into his case. While things could look flawless on paper, nothing was ever a sure thing. Aguila could still remember his thoughts all those years ago. So much research; so much anticipation. Nothing could go wrong, but everything did. The first unlucky subject never stood a chance. Nine? Nine had a chance. Nine had a very good chance, but all the same, anything could go wrong in a process as delicate and obstacle ridden as this.
But nothing went wrong. Not a thing. Nine was alive, kicking, and with cognitive thought. Antonio couldnt help but smile as he fingered the slightly sore tissue near his throat. Oh, this one was a fighter. A fighter was just what he needed. Surviving the process was nothing short of a war, and Nine had turned it to a rout. Yes, things were going flawlessly for the first time in the Phoenix Projects lifespan. For once, the future was bright, and Aguila welcomed it with open arms.
A clearly modulated beep sounded from a device on the mans desk, lifting his mind from its silent reverie. The doctor hit a button and a womans voice played from a speaker atop it after a moment.
Doctor Aguila, the subject is coming to. She hesitated momentarily, a slightly worried tone in her voice. I still dont think we should have him out of restraints, Doctor.
No, this is not a prison, and he is not a prisoner. Aguila sighed, fully aware of the risks regardless. Dont worry, Im coming, and Ill talk to him.
The woman reluctantly concluded the conversation, the comm device flickering to a close and leaving Aguila alone once more.
Alright, Nine, time for a little candied Q&A, my treat.
[color=#33CC00]/accessing personal log files
/searching for next file
/found dated 7-28-799 A.S.
/continue? y/n
/y
/opening file 'phnx-two
I had my doubts that this entry would ever be chronicled, for various reasons, but here I am.
It took me some time, but I eventually came to the conclusion that I would continue the project. When I came to the Council, my fate lay in their hands. Truthfully, if they had decided to stonewall Phoenix, I would have not put up a fight. However, after our conversations, it was clearly apparent that they felt the project held far too much gravity to be dismantled after one failure. It disgusts me somewhat that they will value the possibilities of this process over human life, but at this point Im willing to continue. I wont make the same mistakes twice.
I will not let another die under my watch.
The story of Two is an amazing one-
[color=#33CC00]/remaining data is heavily encrypted
/entry ended
The dark haired mans eyelids opened halfway, a sliver of light slashing across his face as he lay on his back on what felt like a soft bed. His nostrils flexed slightly, inhaling a sweet rush of air. The cogs of his mind turned in reply, trying to identify the new smell. After a moment he placed it; flowers. The sight or smell of flowers wasnt extremely common in Sirius, but he could faintly remember seeing them before on a Freeport. An odd smell, regardless.
His eyes opened fully, fixated upon the ceiling above. As he slowly pieced his short term memory back together, he fully expected to see the image of the looming ceiling again, steel clad and foreboding, but instead was met with a relatively short rooms ceiling, hued a warm cr?me. He flexed his arms, pressing himself to sit against the wall behind his head, noticing offhandedly that the thin hospital type garments were no longer covering his body, a comfortable pair of sleeping shorts over boxers now on. His chest was a bare, except for a palm sized patch of soft, slightly red stained gauze covering over the bottom of his left pectoral.
A sliding glass door about ten feet to his left glided open with a gentle rush of humid air, a man with shoulder length dark brown hair stepping inside.
Trying to bribe me with comfort, warden? He glowered in the direction of the newcomer. You still havent told me a damn thing.
The man raised his hands in a gesture of ease, though with a slightly amused look across his face. And we havent spoken since your hand was around my throat. He chuckled, sitting down on a plain looking chair at the bedside. I told you Id answer any questions you had, and I meant it.
He gave the man a vaguely unbelieving look, eying him up and down idly before replying. So?
So? Thats not much of a question, now is it? He crossed his arms with his eyebrows raised. Youll have to be a little more specific, amigo.
Fine, lets start simple. Who are you?
Doctor Antonio Aguila, head scientist and project manager of Phoenix. He nodded fractionally as he answered the question without delay. But please, Id appreciate it if you called me Tony.
Phoenix, whats that? Is that where I am?
Yes and no. Phoenix is the name of the project I am heading. Right now, were in a private facility on Malta.
Malta? He flashed to his feet, sending the man a withering glare. Bloody Outcast!
Aguila sighed, leaning back in his chair slightly. Why thank you. He droned out lazily. Funny you say that, since you dont even know who are.
The man parted his lips to bark something back, but Aguila was right. He felt fine in body, and he was thinking clearly enough, but his memory was a mess. He thought it would come back to him, and certain things did, but ninety percent of it seemed to be just missing. He knew it was there, or rather was, but he simply couldnt grasp it. Either way, the doctor had a point. If he didnt even know who he was, he wasnt in much a position to be discriminating. Suddenly it felt as if the young man before him was his closest ally.
Alright, Im sorry. He nodded after a moment of hesitation, taking a step back and sitting on the foot of the bed. What do you know about me?
Aguila shrugged, crossing a leg over his knee and grasping his hands in front of him. Not much at all. He admitted. We found you in a civilian vessel on the outskirts of the Mahon. No identification, and the inboard systems were fried too badly to pull any real data out of them. The cockpit was depressurized, and you were doubled over with a foot long shiver of glass through your lung. He smirked somewhat, cocking his head and nodding to the bandage on his chest. Speaking of which
His mind was still processing the shocking information when he looked to the dressing again. It was fairly large, so the wound have had to have been serious, as Aguila said. Another sight caught his attention in the process; a slew of various tattoos across his shoulders, arms, and chest. He couldnt put much thought into them right now, in any case. He gingerly felt the bandage, the crusty blood stained patch against his fingertips. As serious as the injury looked to have been, he couldnt feel any pain coming from its position. His eyes turned to the doctor in partial confusion.
Go on, let it breath. He nodded in return, his eyes fixed on the man before him.
With a mild tug, the adhesive tore loose. A tickle ran down his stomach as something flittered to the ground; a thin string of wire; more specifically, stitches. His hand grazed over the so-called wound, but nothing was there. No wound, no blood, no scar. Did Aguila lie? No, that wouldnt make much sense. Whatever was going on, he certainly didnt mind an Outcast in front of him at this point.
I could have called that one. The Hispanic stifled a laugh as he turned his eyes to the thread lying before his feet.
Who the hell am I, Aguila? He murmured in a serious tone. What the hell am I?
The doctor smiled casually, standing up and folding his hands behind his back. You, my friend, are Nine. He turned forty-five degrees to his right, gesturing for him to follow. And Im Tony. Come on, Ive got something to show you.
[color=#33CC00]/accessing personal log files
/searching for next file
/found dated 12-5-799 A.S.
/continue? y/n
/y
/opening file 'phnx-three
After the scenario involving Two, Im having a hard time deciding what to think. Ive talked with the Council extensively concerning the obvious, and as I expected, theyve prohibited me from ever doing what was carried out again. While it frustrates me, the risk involved was far too great, and I do understand their concerns. It doesnt make it any easier, but Ill continue to do what I can.
Its difficult to write these entries, as ever, seeing as nothing is going right. I feel as if Threes; Angelo Garcias; death taught me nothing. Once again, the body rejected the treatment, degrading within minutes and leaving me with another poor young persons blood on my hands. I know there is still merit to this project, but continuing it is the hardest thing Ive ever had to do. The subjects well know the risks and ramifications of this as well; otherwise they would not be putting their lives on the line for the furthering of our people. Angelo knew that very well; and if its acceptable, Id like to put in a few things about him.
Mr. Garcia was a brave man in many ways. As with most of the Phoenixes, he had respectable education, skill, and strength behind him. Graduating from Officers School a year early, Angelo looked to have a long future in the tactical side of Maltese offensive forces. Even at his young age of twenty-two, he knew how to keep a clear head, direct his men with precision and wisdom, and hit the enemy where it hurt. Its an unspoken assurance that Garcia cared about his people more than anything, and when he volunteered to take part in the Phoenix Project, he showed that with remarkable courage.
Three may be gone, but hes not forgotten. His sacrifice shows us that we havent yet perfected this process. My mind is turning, calculating what could be the cause of these failures, and more so, how I can correct them. If I can endure these feelings, I know I can get somewhere.
The air was warm and windless, a powerful green sun blazing high in the dull yellow sky. The man’s footsteps were steady and sure, which came as a slight surprise to him in light of everything. He hadn’t a clue who he was, where he was, and had apparently just risen from the grave, yet he felt as strong as an ox. It made no sense, the same as just about everything else, so he decided to focus on one thing at a time.
Tony outstretched his arms casually, gesturing to the area around him. “It’s not much consolation, I suppose, but this is all yours.” He spoke suddenly. “There’s comfortable sleeping arrangements, recreation areas, a full kitchen, exercise rooms and equipment, as well as all the medical and scientific means necessary.”
“Necessary for what, damn it?” He cut in abruptly, the irritation finding its way back to his face. “What is this?”
The doctor nodded at the outburst, looking Nine in the eyes after a moment. “I’m not lying to you about any of this, and I’m not going to. You’re a genetic experiment. That’s what all of this is.” He sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “You were dead when we found you. We didn’t kill you; you were dead. Telling you all about this project is going to take time…”
He stood there returning the man’s gaze for a few seconds, turning away in thought after Aguila’s pause. “If I have anything right now, it’s time… I don’t like this, but it is what it is.” He murmured, turning back to the doctor. “If you saved my life, you have my gratitude, but you know as well as I do that doing so doesn’t give you free reign to do whatever the hell you like. It seems obvious enough that you did do something, but right now I’m going to need everything you’ve got before I decide where I’m going to go from here.” The man chuckled a moment after he finished. “Unless of course I am a prisoner, in which case I don’t have much a choice at all.”
“No, you’re no prisoner. Not under my watch.” Tony shrugged. “This project is directly authorized and endorsed by the Council, but it’s under my control. If you want to leave, it’s going to be a problem, but I won’t do anything to stop you.” He turned around, taking a few steps towards the base of a massive tree in the middle of the courtyard looking locale.
The area around was lush and lively with foliage and greenery, but was manicured exquisitely. The tree above had plump, juicy orbs of blue and purple visible all across the large canopy, ornamented by thin and long viridian leaves dripping off its myriad branches of varying thicknesses. The ground was spilled over with thick, vibrant grass, soft and comfortable against his bare feet. Bushes spattered with brilliant flowers encircled the outsides of the buildings and dwellings around them, broken up by low and verdant plots thick with petals every color of the rainbow. The smell no longer seemed odd, needless to say.
“Then change my mind.” Nine replied quietly, surveying the area with seeming nonchalance. “Let’s be honest, if I don’t know the first thing about myself, running off might not be the greatest idea. Tell me more.”
“Alright.” Aguila nodded in response, trying to think of a simple and effective way to explain. “What do you know about Malta? Outcasts? Cardamine?”
“Enough.”
“Then you understand cardamine’s effect on the body, I’m sure. The enhanced-”
“Yes, I know about that. Get to the point.”
Tony pursed his lips in what would have been irritation towards anyone else. The man standing before him was the Phoenix, fulfilled and accomplished to what looked like the highest degree. It was difficult to get frustrated at such a living success, to say the least.
“This project, it all started when I theorized a way to introduce cardamine to the body in a far more drastic way; one that could be monitored and perfected, creating the perfect specimen. Cardamine already lingers in the air around us, and anyone living here has involuntarily had their DNA mutated in very serious ways, but I decided to find if cardamine could do more. Simply put, yes it could. It could be focused, further integrated on a genetic level, and concentrated far past current forms.”
“So that’s what it is, then? I’m a cardamine juiced lab rat?” He exhaled, fighting back a touch of anger.
“You could look at it that way, yes.” Aguila nodded, his mind still turning and weaving his next remark. “I like to look at it as working on the next stage of human evolution. Nine, there are facets to yourself that you and I can’t even begin to imagine. I honestly have no idea the limits of how far this might take you, but I need you here if any of this is going to mean anything. Not only that, but I still can’t be completely sure of your health and mental stability. You seem to be fine now, but this process is simply too unknown to know anything for sure.” He closed his eyes, opening them again after a momentary pause. “You leave now, and you run the risk of running into serious, and possibly life threatening developments. That doesn’t even take into account your memory loss.”
“Nine…” He muttered listlessly. “Will you stop calling me that?”
“Very well, what should I call you?”
He grimaced at the reply. Tony was right, he didn’t have any idea what his name really was, and it was a little difficult to get by without any sort of designation. For now, it looked like “Nine” would have to do.
“Fine, Nine it is.” He shrugged, shaking his head. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice right now. I suppose it won’t hurt anyone if I hang here and try to put things together, anyways.” He scratched the back of his head, feeling his fingers through smooth hair that felt like it was getting just a bit too long for his liking, hitting the small of his neck. “Where the hell did you get ‘Nine’ anyways, aye?”
“You’re the ninth.” Aguila couldn’t help but let out a small sigh, answering the question with hidden reluctance. “All of the others haven’t made it through the process.”