"Well then, I better get Aldo sensei into a gown." The doctor said as she looked back at the passed out teacher. Marth took that as his queue to get out of there and started for the door.

"Marth-chan!" Yoshida called out. Marth stopped in his tracks.

"Yes sensei?", Marth replied, a little embarrased that the doctor had addressed him so casually.

"You won't get back to the school that way. Allow me to phase you back."

In his rush to avoid seeing Aldo naked, Marth had forgotten that the infirmary was not on the same plane of existence as the school.

"Oh, right." Marth stood there, then turned to face Yoshida-sensei. Moving his head as if to point towards the door, Marth couldn't help his curiosity. "Then what's out there?"

"Nothing but hot springs for as far as the eye can see!"

Marth's mind went wild. A place such as this was a dream come true. A hot doctor heals you up, then sends you out to the hotsprings to recover.

"<< How about I join you? The doctor says once I'm simmering in the hot bath. >> Why not, m'lady, there's plenty of room in the pool to my left. << But I need to be in the pool with you so I can nurse your wounds!" Marth burbled so fast that his words smooshed together. He danced in place as his excited flow of speech hit critical mass, his bright red head letting off pressure through his ears like a steam train's whistle.

Yoshida-sensei looked on at Marth as he frolicked in place, letting out squees of joy.

"Is he Okay?" She asked to herself as she pressed a finger to her chin. "Marth-chan, you look a little red, how about I take your temperature?"

Marth snapped back to reality at the thought of Yoshida-sensei pushing her head up against his own. "Has the doctor read my mind? My imagination is one thing, but sensei, we just met!" Marth's conflicted internal dialog came to a halt and he spoke up, replying to the doctor.

"No thanks, I'm fine. I'll be going now. Good luck!" Marth rushed to speak, not ready for another intimate encounter with another hot teacher.

"Ok then, See you soon!", Yoshida spoke with a smile. With that, Marth's view of the bright infirmary transitioned into a view of the dark administration building. Marth walked down the stairs from the stage, and out the door into the sunlight.

From the steps of the administration building, Marth could see dozens of students with bags in hand, walking down the path towards the commons.

"Lunch time!" Marth was elated as he cried out, and jumped down the stairs.

A distant plane revealed a war torn city underneath a grey, polluted sky. In the metropolitan's heart, a large red cross of a crumbled hospital was dark, backlights snuffed out by the lack of electricity. The hallways were intact, although shaken from the shock of bombs. Ceiling tiles and broken shards of glass littered it's floors, inactive light fixtures dangling from the mess.

Long abandoned, the bulk of the broken institution was vacant, save for a subterranian ward, tucked away beneath the battle scorched earth.

Here, where the sounds of gunfire and chaos were absent, but a different kind of hell was present.

"Subject 43, on your feet!" A armed guard shone a light into the dark room, illuminating three ill captives. Against the walls parallel and to the left of the doorway, two people lay asleep on their sides. Sitting against the wall to the right of the door, a slender blonde haired teenager rose his head.

"But I just returned. I need to rest.", the dirty clothed teen softly spoke, barely able to keep his bruised head held upright. His blonde hair was tangled, and his white long sleeve shirt stained with buttons missing.

"What's that, you dare speak back to me?" The guard rushed into the room, metal clad feet gliding across the floor as if cushioned by patches of air. With his arms held up at the ready, torch held like a baton, his cape gust backwards before he came to a stop above the exhausted boy. "Subject 43, on your feet, NOW!"

The booming voice of the guard drew the attention of the other subjects, both waking from their slumber. Seeing an opportunity to escape, the captive near the left wall stood up and dashed for the open door.

The guard reacted immediately, reaching out his hand and projecting a disruptive spherical blast of Ionic Shock. The attempted escapee's body went limp, legs collapsing and his weight crashing down the the floor with a thud, their unprotected head hitting the ground with a loud SPLACK. With his motor skills completely disabled, he let out no cries of pain or agony. As he lay motionless, his eyes teared and drool escaped from his mouth, his distressed, helpless face yearning for the exit.

The guard glide across the floor to the fallen boy, stopping above his head.

"Only with hard work will you be set free.", The guard cited his motto, the creed of his clan. "If you don't like it here, I'd be happy to let you go... to the gallows!"

The guard lifted his foot, stepping it down onto the downed boy's neck. Already void of his body's natural electrical impulses, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. As the pressure from the guard's metal boot increased, the prisoner's vision began to blacken, his consciousness beginning to fade.

"I'm ready to serve.", Subject 43 stood, supporting his weakened body with his hand against the closest wall. The guard stopped pressing down with his foot for a moment to look up at Subject 43.

"Excellent.", the guard eerily answered, removing his foot from the laying prisoner. With palm of his hand, the guard gesturned Subject 43 towards the door, who promptly exited through. The guard waited for Subject 43 to leave before projecting another Ionic Shock at the incapacitated subject, restarting his muscular system. The guard locked the door.

Subject 43 walked ahead of the guard accompanied by the sound of the downed prisoner gasping for air and coughing as he regained control of his body.

Subject 43 walked through the dark corridor in the basement of the battered hospital. The only light was that from the guard's torch, and sparcely placed emergency light fixtures powered by a generator.

The two reached a surgery room which had been retrofitted for the clan's purposes. Instead of a table, a single restraining chair was anchored to the floor. From the high ceilings, a robotic arm hung down, carrying a variety of surgical equipment from inspection lights to stainless steel bone saws. The wall facing the chair was covered in glass, revealing beyond it a staffed observation suite, packed with document laden tables, chairs, monitoring equipment and clipboards. This was one of the few well-lit rooms in what was left of the entire hospital.

The blond haired subject 43 intuitively sat in the chair, fastening the buckles around his legs and around his waist. The guard finished strapping his arms in, and the white coated personnel behind the glass shifted their attention to the subject. One of the men with thick glasses and a slick haircut put down their coffee and spoke into the an intercom microphone as the guard left the room.

"You will be receiving 50,000U of Esperin.", The man spoke calmly, skipping all pleasantries. "Afterwards, you will proceed to Sector D4 and neutralize all opponents. Do you understand?"

Subject 43 sat with his head bowed, his tangled blonde hair shadowing half of his face. Over the past few days, he had been on countless missions like this. The clan, eager to bolster their control of the region, imprisioned hundreds of people and pumped them full of the blue chemical. Trained as an Esper or not, the substance fortified their physical strength, and immensely augmented their Astral capabilities.

Subject 34 was so lucky to be a low enough level Esper to be disposable. Young and manipulatable, he was the clan's perfect soldier.

"Subject 34 do you understand?"

"Yes.", Subject 34 replied. Resistance was futile. If he didn't comply, the guard would come back. The guard always brought incentive.

"Good. Subject 34, why do you fight?" The man shielded by glass asked the loaded question. Subject 34 wouldn't fight if not for his oppressors, but he knew from experience that that was the wrong answer.

"I fight for the clan. I fight to earn our freedom.", Subject 34 cited the canned response. In this concentration camp which produced super soldiers to wipe out the opposition, individuality was forbidden.

"Good.", The glassed man reinforced the inception of the clan's ideals. Turning to his associates he gave the command, "Administer the Esperin."

The robotic arm above Subject 34 decended towards him, rotating tooled segments like a complex clock until the desired tool was selected. A large syringe full of a thick blue substance came down and was positioned over the boy's wrist. The robotic arm brought the needle to a stop and it's mechanical eyes computed a vector to the nearest vein. Moving in slowly, the sharp point cleared the large polyester restraints around Subject 34's wrist, and dove deep under the skin.

The boy let out a cry as a nerve was pinched among extensive scar tissue from injections past.

"Administering 50,000U Esperin", A female voice behind the glass was heard. Subject 34 writhed in pain while the blue fluid began to flow into his body. 50,000U was about to be the biggest dose he had ever received.

Esperin created such an overwhelming feeling of power. A 10,000U dose was enough to make him feel invincible. At 20,000U, his mind would lose the capabilithy of rational thought. 30,000U sent him into a berserk of rage, pulverising anything in front of him that moved. The substance affected his Astral abilities in a similar way, allowing him to project neverending fields of Astral distruction without hesitation or remorse.

The drug fully dispensed into Subject 34's arm, and he started to feel it's effects. Waves of blue light hit his consciousness, over and over, repeating it's pattern and incresing in frequency.

"I think I'm going to be sick!", Subject 34 wanted to hold his stomache.

"Stand by for transport.", The glassed man ignored the boy as he spoke through the intercom. A switch was flipped and the intercom's speakers let out a pop as they were powered off.