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_You must never forget

The essence of your spark

All of that which defines you

Is the essence of your blood

The infection has been removed

The soul of this machine has improved_

• Fear Factory, "Archetype"

"So this is where I die" though Hexus, spying the outside through the mesh grille window, as the prison transport rolled up to the pentient barracks. It was a stubby, unimpressive structure of undressed concrete in hard angles, more of a prison than a military base; which, of course, was the point. When the pentient legion program had been unveiled it was met with widespread public approval, the oppressive rule of the high-breeds had left the people tired and woesome of the continual executions of state enemies and the alternative that the pentient legion offered seemed so much more humane by comparison.

"Fools" hexus thought, privately beating against the walls of his own skull in despair "When the personality dies the person dies too, the ones that became pentient legionnaires are just as dead as is they'd bit the silver guillotine."

With a gaseous hiss of servo-bolts releasing the transport door slid open and a pair of combat-fatigued military guardsmen manhandled him out into the painful light of day. The two guards had strange, unpleasant scents, seemingly human yet tinged with something caustic and artificial that burned Hexus's nostrils and made his eyes water. The white residue at the corners of their mouths and the thick ampoule-filled bracers on their arms revealed the cause; Chem Soldiers, combat-drug addicts that had signed themselves on as indentured servants of the military in return for a free fix. When fully dosed up and riding high on a wave of pure chemical death they were almost a match for a were in hybrid form - and far more numerous, better living through chemistry indeed. Sadly, the biochemical havoc running through their systems typically meant that fewer than 15% of them lived past 45. He didn't feel too sorry for them though, the average life expectancy of a pentient legionnaire was just 3-5 years.

That's humans, always finding a way to even the playing field, even if they have to use a Tac-Nuke.

One of the chem soldiers attatched a tether-pole to his collar and pushed him toward the gates a bit too quickly than he could comfortably walk with his feet hobbled, forcing him to shuffle in an ungainly comical manner that made the pair snort and chuckle under their breath. Of course, it could have just been the drugs that made them so upbeat...

There was a brief pause as the gates were de-electrified and slid open by the bored but dutiful security guard who waved them through with his truncheon. Hexus hobbled allong, urged on by his handlers but also eager to be inside where the biting morning chill couldn't reach him through the pitifuly thin prison smock and press-paper slippers he was currently wearing. The interior of the building was almost as spartan as the outside, resembling a hospital but without the usual concessions to humanity, the A.I. controlled gun turrets mounted on the ceiling that tracked him as he moved didn't help.

After leading him down a seemingly endless series of nondescript whitewashed corridors they stopped in front of a sealed iris-door and one of the guards passed his hand over a scanner set in the wall beside it, a brief flash on the back of his hand revealed that they were using implanted chips to open sealed areas, a clever security precaution; the chips required bioelectricity to function, if removed they were useless, anyone wishing to escape using someone elses chip would either have to intimidate one of the guards into opening the doors for them or else knock one out and drag their still-living body to each door, neither of which were feasible when one considers that all the guards in this place seemed to be fearless, pain-numb drug-zombies with the strength of any five men you care to mention. The iris unfolded in a swirling mechanical ballet to reveal an elevator pod, which the two escorts pushed him into brusquely, Hexus would have brained himself on the rim of the doorway had he not reacted fast enough.

"So, fellas, what floor?" he said in his sunniest voice, cracking an ironic grin for good effect.

Predictably, they ignored him, chem soldiers often found it hard interacting with others in ways not involving violence. Instead they both held one hand to chip-readers inset on either side of the entrance, causing both the iris and the internal doors to seal. Hexus felt the slight stomach-churning sensation of a descending elevator and guessed that the installation must posess a subterranean layer, perhaps several. That was a grim thought, one of the most common reasons for subterranean levels was to hide things from spy-sattelites, things involving nation-killer bioweapons and their "test subjects".

Another lurch as the elevator came to a halt and the iris swirled open and Hexus was immediately shoved through. On first impressions it seemed that the area they had enterd was some kind of high-end laboratory, though with a slightly sinister undertone. Roughly oval and about fifty meters accross, the walls and floor were clear perspex covering gleaming chrome machinery that all centered on what could possibly pass for a horror-movie dentists chair; a neural patterner, The sight of the thing made him Cringe internally.

A labcoated scientist moved away from a console to meet them, holding a data-slate in one hand. Hexus's nose twitched involentarily when he got near, the guy was a wererat too! He'd heard about his kind, weres descended from lab-rats that had picked up some strange magical resonances from their environment that gave them unusually logical and focused minds, the perfect scientists.

"Allright...put him in the chair..." said the lab rat, his speech disturbed somewhat by an unforunate collection of nervous tics.

Hexus was strapped down in short order, "Hey, what is this, a leatherbar? I'm not into that stuff, guys..." he protested, determined to remain irreverant to the bitter end, but all he got was a sharp cuff in the jaw from one of his captors. "No appreciation for fine comedy..." he drawled around his swelling face. When they were finished the scientist waved them away and out of the corner of his eye Hexus could see them leaving for the elevator.

"Kinda risky, ain't it, doc?" he said to the skinny scientist "You not afraid I might get loose?"

"Not...not even slightly, you, ah...forget that you...are still wearing a mondanite collar while I am...unrestrained, at least in that manner. If you were to, ah...get loose, it would be simplicity itself for me to reapprehend you as...as it were." he said in a nervous tone whilst adjusting some of the patterners components and attatching monitor electrodes to Hexus's chest and temples. "You seem, ah...strangely resigned you your, ah...fate, as it were." he said in the voice of someone who has heard of starting conversations before and would like to give it try "Though judging from your past, ah...dealings i'd have thought that you would be more...uncooperative."

"Yeah, well, seeing the setup you have here I've kinda given up on any possibility of a heroic escape." replied Hexus, levelly.

"I see."

"So, how does it feel to be a race-traitor, doc?" Hexus piped, cheerfully.

The scientist was silent for a minute, the sounds of his tinkerings stopped.

"Do not pretend to...know of my circumstances." he said, almost in a whisper.

"And what about MY fucking circumstances!" shouted Hexus, blood up "I'm about to be mind-frigged into another fanatical pentient fuckwit by this thing and you think you have ANY problems that compare!?"

"These cursed t-twitches didn't happen by, ah...accident." replied the lab rat, who had returned to the adjustments.

"What do you mean?"

Hexus heard the sound of a tool falling to the ground with a clang and suddenly he was face-to-face with the labcoated wererat.

"Meet the first test-subject of the neural...p-patterner. And it's creator." he hissed, a tiny fraction of his inner beast bleeding into his voice. Slowly, he drew away from Hexus and strode to a console with an indignant flourish.

"You created this thing? Then how were you...?" Started Hexus before the scientist cut him off.

"It was meant to be a medical, ah...device." he said "A way of curing all manner of neurological...afflictions. It could even have helped those with severe mental...handicaps, gone one step closer to making the world fair. Instead they made it into an instrument of mind control." His voice sounded pained as he finished the sentance.

"When I refused to hand over my, ah...research notes I was made it's first live subject. I cannot...resist an order from a high-breed, I am mentally, ah...incapable of such an action. There was also some damage do my, ah...speech centers resulting from improper calibration by inexperienced...users, hence the difficulty I have conversing."

Now it was Hexus's turn to be silent, half in shame and half in rage, here was someone who had been screwed over by the high-breeds for trying to help people.

"My name is, ah...Samuel, Dr. Samuel Young, by the way."

"Hexus, just Hexus now. Not even that soon, eh doc?" he said, sheepishly "I suppose i'll be given a number once i'm a pentient legionnaire."

"Oh, ah...no, were you not told?" said Dr. Young, adjusting his glasses.

"Told what?"

"The court order for you to enter pentient legionnaire service has been rescinded, all you're getting is a minor personality adjustment, not a full neural rework."

"WHAT! So i'll still be me afterwards!?" Shouted Hexus, practically in tears.

"Mostly, yes. I belive the decision was changed to indentured servitude instead of the penal forces, you are to be turned over to Mr. Helstromme, chairman of the Riastradh corporation, I believe."

"Well, shit, it ain't much but i'll take it!" cried Hexus "Wait a minute, Riastradh...oh, hell no." his mind went back to the previous night and the words of the wolf jailer;

"The guy you just put in the physio' ward was the lover of the Riastradh Engineering corporations CEO, he practically owns neu accresia."

"Oh boy, that's gonna be awkward..."

"Hmmm?" chimed Young, quizzically.

"Oh, it's nothing." said Hexus, sheepishly. The labcoated wererat studied his face silently for a moment before wordlessly turning away and going back to his work.

"I am nearly, ah...finished." Young piped after furiously typing at an inset terminal for several minutes "Only the confirmation from higher-up and the process begins"

"Does it hurt?"

"My experience was, ah...excruciating, but that was primarily due to the device having been used by operators who did not fully understand it's in-in-intricacies" said Young, having to practically force the last word out through physical effort. "You will likely suffer from no more than a migrane headache and the chances of brain, ah...damage are minimal, neuromorphology is very nearly a fine...art these days."

"So, what changes are you making anyway? 'Figure I ought to know what you're doing before you start tinkering around up there. You got any smokes on you, by the way?"

"Erm, well accor-ac-according to the instructions i've been, ah...given the neuroprogramming includes, ah...submissiveness, increased respect for auth-authority, decreased receptivity to certain biochemicals and hormones, namely adrenalin and testosterone, all standard stuff but for, ah...some reason I cannot fathom a few last-minute changes were ordered added to the program, I don't know what they are though, I just added them to the code. Oh, and I ah,...don't smoke."

"How does this thing work anyway?"

"It forcibly reroutes the subjects neural pathways via intense but extremely localised electromagnetic fields guided by silicate nanoconductors," said Young, almost as if reading from some internal script "which reminds me..."

The doctor produced a plastic snap-case from a pocket in his labcoat and broke it open, revealing a row of needles filled with a clear silvery solution, he removed a needle from the pack and advanced on Hexus, without warning he jabbed the needle into the helpless wererat's arm, provoking a sharp yelp.

"That's the nanoconductors, without them it'd turn your brain to porridge."

"That's pleasing to know, so far all I know about this things results is it turns rebels into state-owned killers, you into a stuttering wreck and to cap it all off without a shot full of god-knows-what it sends you straight to the health food section at the local supermarket, gotta admit doc, i'm starting to wonder whether execution would have been such a bad thing"

During Hexus's monologue Dr.Young had slumped down into a padded chair behind his console and was gazing off into space with a despairing expression on his face.

"I know, I...know, believe me when I say that if I knew it would turn out like this I never would have ah,...invented the damn thing. I thought it could do so much good..." he said, his voice trailing off toward the end.

They sat in silence for some time, or at least as much silence as there could be over the background hum of the machinery, the doctor was chewing on the end of his much-abused biro while seemingly lost in thought. Hexus tried straining against the restraints a little but to no avail, the straps were spun poly-chitin and would have been a struggle to break even in hybrid form. He almost screamed with frustration, he had dozens of ways to get out of a situation just like this; shifting techniques, magical workings, spirit-pacts ready to be called in at a moments notice.

All of them utterly useless now, barred to him by the simple unadorned collar of spirit-draining metal welded around his neck.

The tortuous silence was finally broken by the unnanounced opening of the iris-gate, Hexus shifted his eyes to the entrance but the figure moved with preturnatural swiftness and before he could react it was behind the patterner-chair and out of sight. Hexus only got a brief impression of a shadow of impossible and monstrous dimensions. Dr. Young swiveled on his chair and stood up in a single movement to face the whatever-it-was behind Hexus, whether it was from suprise or his unusual speech-impediment Hexus couldn't tell, but his mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a few seconds before he found his voice.

"Ah, er...my lord, so good of you to grace a worm like me with your presence." The stammering wererat said, his tone somewhere between a used-car salesman and someone having a religious experience. "I have done as you commanded, all the ah, adjustments to the neurocode have been made..."

"Good...you have done well doctor." The voice that answered him was deep and rich; aristocratic, beautiful and tinged with poison, it sent shivers down Hexus's spine though whether it was from the fear he felt from it or the longing to hear more even he could not tell. There was a curious tapping sound, like a fingernail on glass, followed by a sound like a hundred knives being sharpened at once. Hexus, bound and immobile could do nothing but listen, no taunts or wisecracks were forthcoming - even his breath was coming shallow.

Steps - slow, purposeful steps now rocked the floor-grilles as the figure came into Hexus's view. A man, physically in his mid twenties, long black hair as fine as flax and shining like oil flowed around his shoulders, high eyebrows summounting two pools of violet, his thin mouth carrying a cold but faintly amused smile. He was pale, Hexus noticed dimly, incredibly pale, as though his flesh had been set in porcelain or alabaster, contrasting pleasingly with the jet-black of his silk shirt - artistically worn half-open - and leather trousers.

"Well, what a charming creature you are..." he said languidly, looking down at Hexus with the same faint smirk, for just a moment Hexus caught a glimpse of the mans teeth - where his canines should have been were two barbed fangs of black chitin, looking slightly out of place among the gleaming white of his other teeth. Hexus squirmed internally - Werespider!

He was struck with a sudden need to get out of the chair, out of the room, anywhere but here with that creature! Though he had made no threatening moves, Hexus could feel the waves of pure predatory instinct rolling off the man next to him, it was bizzare; Hexus was street-born and street-raised, he'd been in wars accross the world and even just between gangs in the streets of neu accresia, he'd peddled substances of dubious legality from dark alleys and stood up to weres and modded humans twice his size without a single blink but this guy, who could have been any spoilt, sissy, richkid you care to mention made him sweat in buckets with a glance and a word.

"What's the matter, little mouse? I'm not going to hurt you, quite the opposite if you play your cards right." Hexus tried to reply but his throat siezed up.

"Hmmm? Pararachnophobia, perhaps?" said the Werespider, sounding both amused and perplexed "You can do something about that, can you not, good doctor?" he said, turning to Dr. Young, who was still staring at him worshipfully.

"Yes, yes of course! I have the program ammendment right, ah...here..."

He fumbled around in a pile of data disks until he finally found the one he was looking for and held it up triumphantly.

"Excellence as always, doctor. I can't have my new pet irrationally afraid of me, that wouldn't do at all." Hexus caught the innuendo - rational fear would be perfectly acceptable.

"Well, I haven't time to tarry long, load the ammendment and start the autoconditioning process."

Dr. Young nodded manically and loaded the disk, in the back of his mind Hexus wondered what had changed the doctors personality, he had seemed so reserved, almost dour, but around that werespider he was almost fanatical, it was strange...

The patterner had begun to hum gently, Hexus felt the hair on the back of his arms stand up from the static charge. The hum began to swell and expand, growing louder and louder as a faint smell of ozone filled the room. Hexus suddenly found it hard to think clearly, every time he tried to focus on something his thoughts would become muddled and confused. Tiny flashes of light sparked in front of his vision like fireworks, sounds distorted, alternately becoming unbearably high and so deep they turned his stomach, even distance became hard to determine, telescoping in and out befre his very eyes.

Hexus felt like he was drowning, being consumed by an invisible warm ocean, as the edges of his vision closed in he noticed distractedely that the doctor had shifted to his Hybrid form, pure white fur with rippling muscles beneath, and was kneeling before the werespider who was sitting in the control chair and absently stroking the submissive wererat between the ears.

An echoing laugh, strangely close yet distant, was all he heard before he blacked out.