Kelso rubs at his clean chin. "Elaborate."

You hold up the walky-talkie, "If they know where the Professor is, then that means they're either working for him, like you're assuming, or are just planning their vengeance; If we can get a message to them, get their attention--"

"Then the C.E. Soldiers will get to us and them."

"Not unless our signal is obscure, something only a Creation would know. Can I assume that we're the only one who refer to the Professor, as, well, a professor?"

Your mentor smiles, "Yes... That's what the greater Creations called him. Myself, the Werewolf, Stein, and several others. We all were forced under the bastard to look over Lessers, like yourself. One of them are bound to be in this town, has the smallest C.E. division in the East. We just have to hope we'll be able to handle them in the case that they're still loyal. So you want us to send a wide broadcast, maybe even a flare labeled 'Professor', and hope we catch some of our brethren?"

"That," you continue, "or we lure the church to us by contacting them with the Walkie, and just beat the information out of them. By the sounds of it, they'd be expecting a trap, so they wouldn't bring all their operatives to this location. Hopefully they have an idea where the other Creations are. It's not a perfect plan, but it's uh, better than yours. Don't think you can just nab one like you did with the last one, now that they're probably on guard."

Kelso nods, considering both of your plans, "Much better. Regardless, Mr. Plans, we need to train."

"Train, for what?" Crossing your arms as a child would, you question Kelso. "I feel like you're not telling me everything. Even if the plan is solid, but we need to be solid, with, umm, each-other."

With a chuckle, Kelso replies, "What do you think we're doing? We're fighting against an elite military operation, as well as bio-genetically advanced Creations. We're not playing here, son, there's going to be blood. I'm pretty certain that you'll be able to be very powerful if we train accordingly. This may be surprising, but I think you should cherish your undeath while it lasts. Not to mention that I'd rather not jeopardize myself."

"... So the Creations are going to be very hostile?"

He shrugs in return, "Maybe, more likely than not anyhow. We're betting on whether they're still loyal or not to their Creator."

"Why would they still be loyal to that... that bastard?"

"Well, he did save our lives." You stand in silence with a confused frown. Kelso continues. "Mind you, he also treated us like lab rats and played with our genetic-material. That's why we're going to find him and his Creations, to put an end to it once and for all, so no one else is 'saved' by that man." You nod in understanding. Kelso and yourself... You're going to help the world together. Clean it.

A hero...

"The valley of dunes at night is the best place and time. We'll train today and tomorrow, and by then you should be ready. Now, more about that plan of yours..."

You use the WTs to lure a Zealot and interrogate him.

You spend the next couple of nights training with your mentor. Practically having a dead body is odd, and it took you a while to get the hang of using it, but with the tutoring you've become very adept at recognizing what abilities it grants you, it's limitations, and how to channel your inner strength. Kelso has noted to you that he thinks you're ready, and you agree. Mostly. It's nerve-wrecking; at least, it should be, even though you're just excited to spread your wings (metaphorically, of course.) Overall, you feel that you're ready for this.

About time too, you want to see more of the outside world, the part that isn't just dust and desert. Finding the rest of the Creations will help with that, hopefully. Your plan isn't overly elaborate, but you're certain it'll work. You pick up the walkie-talkie, and you wonder why on the other-side, why the Church hasn't tried to reach their operative. Maybe they knew he was dead, or perhaps the Zealots would routinely go on missions that took days. Who knows?

No matter now, You realize, they'll pick up at the signal. Somebody will.

It's night once again, the Moon is luminous and round. Kelso, is clad in your hoodie, his aged but intimidating features showing out from under it. It didn't seem like his ideal clothes (you could see him rocking a cloak) but when at night a hoodie is probably more practical. You're still garbed in the bulky, but inspiring armor of the Zealot, just with the lights on the outside turned off. You look to your Mentor, who's sitting beside you in the half-buried house. He nods.

Excitedly, you fidget for the WT, and grasp it firmly. You clear your throat to speak, but Kelso briefs you.

"Remember, just put the channel on. Listen in and wait for a while, and if nothing turns up then try speaking. But only then."

"Does it matter?"

"It might."

You cough again, then breathe in. Out. In.

Click

Out. Nothing but static, for now. Minutes go by. You stand at the ready. But all is static. Ten minutes turns to half an hour, though your body doesn't stop tensing. Something is coming.