2F Hallway: [ As D-299 runs past the 
bathroom, a loud snapping noise is heard. 
D-209 falls to the ground, and screams for 
assistance. He reports that his leg had 
been broken. } 


Note [ Video corruption instantly begins to 
affect the kitchen as the sound is made, 
ceasing in the bathroom. ] 


22:45 


2F Hallway: [ D-209 is able to bring himself 
to a stand. He displays his right arm for the 
camera, which has been broken below the 
elbow. It is angled in the opposite direction 


back at the office, the little trinkets and gadgets that no one else had 
cared to collect. Not the miserable briefings back in D.C. Years of 
constant humiliation had rendered him cynical. But no one had ever 
talked like this to him. /f a man can’t take pride in his own work, his 
father had told him, then the man’s the problem, not the job. He 
remembered how proud he felt at his graduation ceremony. No one 
had taken that pride from him. 


Calverez found himself nodding. “Aye ma’am. I’m ready to be a 
hero.” 


Robert was sure he was dead. He hadn't eaten since Friday 
morning, refusing to touch the cake that clogged the gap in the door. 
The water in the sink tasted foul to him. And outside the 
masquerade continued. His mind was blank. The thing outside 
seemed content to let him waste away in the bathroom, and Robert 
didn’t mind obliging it. 


There was a loud crack. He raised his head in response. Outside the 
restroom door he could hear yelling, then a cry as a gunshot rang 
out. There was more yelling, followed by a cascade of gunfire. He 
swore he could hear Julia scream. 


Silence. Robert stood up and approached the bathroom door that 
had become a prison. He could hear voices, ones he didn’t 
recognize. There was laughter. 


Robert unlocked the handle, turned it, and stepped outside. 


Ana Hums 


Dr. Adileh Khayyam entered the Site-43 cafeteria with analytical 
eyes, scanning from table to table with a slight frown until they 
settled upon a pale, tired-looking woman with short, black hair. The 
woman poured over several notes over a mug of coffee, pausing to 
look up at Dr. Khayyam, then immediately looked down. Dr. 
Khayyam chuckled to herself and quietly went to make herself a 
mug of coffee. She could feel the woman watching her the whole 
time, but when Dr. Khayyam turned back around, once again, the 
woman pretended to look over her papers. Dr. Knayyam quietly 
carried the mug over, and took a seat. 


"Good afternoon, Researcher Mabel," Dr. Khayyam said softly. "Do 
you mind if | join you?" 


"You can call me Carolyn,” the woman replied with a sigh, "and no, 
feel free." 


Dr. Knayyam nodded, and took a long sip of her coffee. Researcher 
Mabel continued to avoid her gaze. 


"| didn't see you at the seminar today," Dr. Knayyam continued. 
"Heard from a little bird you were planning on dropping the 
Anomalous Humanoids Certification entirely. Is this true?" 


Researcher Mabel sighed. 


"That's the last time | tell lan anything..." she mumbled and finally 
locked eyes with her senior. "Yes. It’s true." 


Dr. Khayyam took another sip from her coffee before setting the 
mug down. 


"Why though, exactly?" she asked. "If you don't mind sharing." 


"Because, to be frank, Dr. Khayyam, if I've learned anything from 


your seminars these past three weeks, it’s that Ana Hums positions 
burn people out fast," Researcher Mabel explained. She then 
clenched her fists in emphasis. "It's... soul crushing. And honestly, | 
don't think I'm cut out for it. | do appreciate your recommendation, 
but you have the wrong person." 


Dr. Khayyam smiled as she listened, eventually chuckling softly 
again. Researcher Mabel tilted her head. 


"You find that funny?" she asked. 


"A little, yeah," Dr. Knayyam replied. "It’s just... | remember thinking 
that exact thing when | was in your shoes, way back when..." 


"Congratulations!" Dr. Freedmen said with an ear to ear grin. "Heard 
you all just got certified. Welcome to Ana Hums!" 


A young Adileh Khayyam gave a small smile in return as well as a 
half-hearted nod. 


"Still feel like I'm making a huge mistake," Adileh replied, looking 
again at the Anomalous Humanoid Specialist Certificate she loosely 
held in her grip. "Let’s give it a shot though." 


Dr. Freedman waved away her concerns with a roll of his hand. 


"Dr. Khayyam," he replied with a confident laugh, "I've been in 
Anomalous Humanoids at Site-43 for 30 years now. I've seen a lot 
of talented people get that little gold star you have in your hands, 
and | can promise you that all of them, regardless of how successful 
they eventually became, felt the same way you do now! Trust me, 
Adileh. You're going to do fine." 


Adileh nodded and looked down at the certificate again, 
concentrating on the print. 


"I've got this..." she reassured herself. 


"Do you know what team you're going to be assigned to first?" Dr. 
Freedmen's voice broke her concentration. 


"Oh, uh, 2370..." Adileh replied. She then gave a small chuckle. 
"Here's hoping the assignment doesn't suck the life out of me" 


"Au contraire," Dr. Freedmen replied with an ear to ear grin shrinking 
to a small melancholy smile, "You'll find that it’s just as likely that 
we'll suck the life out of them." 


"| guess | just don't know how you do it then," Researcher Mabel 
went on. "You told us the horror stories yourself. When Ana Hums 
work gets bad, it gets really bad. They aren't abstract ideas or world 
sized eldritch horrors that destroy worlds by accident the way a 
human unknowingly crushes an ant. These are people. They look 
like you and me. They know how people work and how to get under 
your skin. Worse, they can do things like exsanguination with a 
touch, or turn people into marble. Real monsters. How do you do it?" 


"Practicing jazz piano mostly," Dr. Khayyam said with a smile. "In all 
seriousness, you are right and there is no escaping that. We see 
really twisted and evil souls in Anomalous Humanoids, but there is a 
reason why we are there. We're the ones who analyze. We get 
inside their heads, and consult the Containment Specialists on how 
to best contain them. What kind of tricks they might try. Sure, we 
have to go into the lion’s den on occasion, but in the end we are 
rewarded by helping make a better cage to keep them in. In the end, 
that's a big part of the drive." 


"And the horror doesn't stick with you?!?" 


"| mean, it does. Like | said before, there is no escaping that..." 


Adileh sat in the interview room in silence, organizing several papers 
in front of her as she gathered her thoughts. Across from her was a 
slender, tan man dressed in the typical anomalous humanoid 
jumpsuit. Upon his face were several bruises and scrapes where 
security personnel had beaten him. 


"| guess | just don't know what to do at this point, Terry," Adileh 
sighed. "Why do you feel the need to use your abilities in this way? 
Grind down others into raw nerves until they lash out at you." 


Terry looked at her stoically, without a word. His eyes occasionally 
scanned her up and down. 


"Your emphatic abilities could bring so much healing to others, if you 
wanted them too, but instead you seek to hurt others. What do you 
gain from it? Help me understand, Terry." 


"There is nothing to understand," Terry finally replied in a soft voice. 
"People go entire lifetimes without saying what weighs on their 
minds, without embracing their emotions, and unfortunately those 
thoughts swarm to me from miles around. | just repeat them to finally 
set them free. No malice. Just clearing the clutter that's getting 
dumped on me." 


"And the best time to do that is when it will hurt the people around 
you?" Adileh asked, jotting down some notes, then looking back up 
at Terry with a quizzical expression. 


He sighed and rolled his eyes. 


"Perhaps instead of picking my brain you should get the mess that is 
yours sorted out," he returned. "They don't like you, by the way. That 
really is weighing you down." 


"No," Adileh said sharply. "We're not doing that Terry. | won't let you 
try to get under my skin, especially since for all | know you could be 


lying." 


"Maybe," Terry gave a sheepish grin. "But you'll never be sure, won't 
you?" 


Adileh sighed and made her way to the door. 


"| really am trying to help you, Terry," she said. "| do hope someday 
you'll realize that." 


"The other side of the spectrum is even worse though," Researcher 
Mabel commented, looking into her now empty mug. "Innocent 
people, sometimes children locked away like cattle, and Ana Hums 
is on the front lines to watch them wither away and despair. It’s easy 
to justify locking away a monster, but a toddler?" 


Dr. Khayyam nodded in agreement. 


"It's not a part of the job | particularly enjoy, but if that toddler melts 
the flesh off people on contact..." 


She faded out, gesturing her hand in a circle. 


"But on the other side, we're the ones who provide the little bits of 
hope. Suggestions on what can be done to keep our subjects, while 
not necessarily content, still feeling like someone sees them as a 
person. It’s far from ideal, but between us and the Ethics Committee, 
we help keep the Foundation from shifting from cold to cruel." 


"Any luck, Dr. Adileh?" a little Asian girl asked. She sat on the cot in 
her containment cell, her jumpsuit at least two sizes too big for her. 
She looked around the room aimlessly as she waited for a reply. 


"I'm afraid not," Adileh's voice came from over the intercom. 
The little girl nodded in silence, her eyes falling down on the floor. 
"| guess... | hoped..." 


"Now now," Adileh's voice interrupted. "I didn't say there wasn't 
something | could do. Check your chute." 


The little girl blinked and nodded, heading over to the small door on 
the nearby wall where her meals were usually delivered. She 
opened the sliding door carefully, inside she found a handheld game 
console. 


"You said you used to have one of those at home, right?" Adileh 
asked. 


The little girl nodded, taking it back to her bed and flipping it on. The 
title screen soon appeared. 


Nintendogs 


"Not the same thing as a real puppy, but it’s as close as | can offer, 
sweetie," Adileh said. 


The girl smiled. 


"Thank you, Dr. Adileh," she said. "Thank you, thank you, thank 
you!" 


The cell then filled with the sounds of barks as she dove into the 
game. 


In a nearby observation room, Adileh turned off the intercom and 
smiled at the little girl on the monitor. 


"You're welcome," she said to herself. 


"How do you not get dragged down then?" Researcher Mabel shook 
her head. "I just don't see how you can be so cavalier about this 
position. What keeps you on the surface? Besides the ‘Locking up 
the Monsters' and 'Being Santa Claus’ shtick. What is it?" 


Dr. Khayyam finished her mug of coffee and shrugged. 


"I'm going to let you in on a little secret here, Carolyn," she said. "No 
one in the Foundation, not the Researchers, not the MTF agents, 
not the O5 or even the custodians, stays above the surface all the 
time. Sometimes you will see something that will cover your legs in 
concrete and pull you into some pretty dark places. The thing about 
Ana Hums, though, is that when your subjects learn that they can 
trust you and that you are a friend, they start to depend on you. So, 
you'll pull yourself back up to the surface, if not for yourself, then for 
them." 


"That sounds like it can backfire..." 


"Heh," Dr. Khayyam chuckled and nodded. "Sometimes it does, 
most of the time though, it doesn't. It’s hard to explain..." 


The Site-43 alarm klaxons filled the halls as Adileh crouched behind 
her desk, a pistol held tightly in her hand as she waited for the 
breach to end, or security personnel to find her and remove her to a 
secured sector. 


"Come on, come on..." she said under her breath as she watched 
the door. "Where are you guys..." 


She stifled her breathing as she noticed the handle move and the 
door slowly open. A lanky teenage boy with dark skin entered, 
dressed in a typical anomalous humanoid jumpsuit. 


"Doc?" he asked as he entered. "You in here?" 


"Evan?" Adileh asked, getting up from her hiding spot, her pistol 
aimed at the young man, "What... how did you get here?" 


"Wow, | didn't know you packed..." he said, and closed the door 
behind him. He then placed his hands over his head and sat down 
on the floor. "If 1 sit here until security finds us, will you not shoot 
me?" 

Adileh lowered the gun. 


i 


"Evan," she said sternly. "How did you get here. | do need to know." 


"Power got knocked out to my cell door. A bunch of us were able to 
get out. | figured you might be in danger and so | found my way 
here." 


"That's... sweet?" Adileh raised an eyebrow questioningly. "And the 
others?" 


"A few stayed in their cells. The rest made a break for it." 
"You didn't join them?" 
He shrugged. 


"| thought about it, but as much as | hate it here, | imagine | would 
hate getting shot more. Besides, | have literally no idea where we 
are, so what's the good in escaping if you're on the moon, or 
beneath the ocean." 


"Smart." 


"My parents didn't raise a fool," Evan grinned. "Also, you've always 


been so kind to me. If something happened to you during this, and | 
was just sitting in my cell twiddling my thumbs | don't know what I'd 
do." 


"My hero," Adileh said with small smile. "| appreciate the thought, 
Evan. Thank you." 


"What are friends for?" 


"Listen, in the end, you're going to need to do what's best for you," 
Dr. Khayyam sighed, getting up to bus her dirty mug. "If you don't 
think Ana Hums is where you need to be, I'll gladly give you any 
recommendations you need so you can get there. But | truly do think 
you'd miss your calling, Carolyn." 


"Why is that?" Researcher Mabel frowned. 


"You've got everything we look for in our specialists. Attentiveness, 
compassion, empathy, and you remind me a bit of myself when | 
was in your shoes." 


Researcher Mabel looked down at the table, the gears of her mind 
rapidly turning in thought. 


"It just feels like | might be making a huge mistake..." 
Dr. Khayyam smiled. 


"Carolyn," she said. "I've been in Anomalous Humanoids at Site-43 
for 15 years now. | can promise you that all of us started out feeling 
the same way." 


Dr. Khayyam watched as Researcher Mabel looked down in doubt 
once more, then look up and nod, a small smile on her face. 


"Trust me," Dr. Khayyam patted her on the shoulder. "If you take this 
path, you're going to do fine. See you at the next seminar." 


Anachronisms 


Research Assistant Richard Moss ran. He could safely say that he 
had never been this afraid in his entire life. The events of last twenty 
minutes buzzed in his head like bees. Explosion. Sirens. Security 
breach. Attackers. What was a Chaos Insurgency? Gunshots. 
Deaths. Lockdown offline. Running. More explosions. More bullets. 


There was some bizarre form of music filling his ears. Everything 
seemed to fall into a rhythm: his breathing, the thudding of his heart, 
the pumping of adrenaline, the scream of the emergency alarms. 
The bullets were behind him now. For how long, he didn’t know. Not 
long enough. He barely knew how he ended up running down this 
hall, or what he had done to acquire the item now tucked under his 
arm like a football. 


He skidded to a halt, nearly tripping over his own feet with his 
momentum. This was the chamber he wanted. Panting, he scanned 
his ID card. Under normal circumstances, this would have been 
useless during a security breach. The uninvited guests had provided 
an unexpected blessing in taking out the lockdown procedures. 


The door slid open with a hiss. Richard jumped into the room. 
“Lord Blackwood!” 
The slug turned the nub of its head towards Richard.