San's Prophecy

San slowly opened his eyes, an annoying pounding headache wreaking havoc on his conscious. Even as he focused on his surroundings, the headache started to subside. He frowned at that. He was getting fewer and fewer repercussions from his actions, even the new drugs were starting to lose their vigor against his Kryptonian side's burgeoning power.

His eyes swept the room. It was full of containers, and nearly half of them were filled. He spotted Ella in one, sleeping peacefully despite her face scrunching up as if in pain. He could almost smell the sophoric they'd used on her. That thought had him wincing away, muscles spasming painfully.

"They turned him into a junkie," he heard someone whisper. His head shot up, but he couldn't figure out who'd said it.

But he did recognize who decided to speak next.

"How could you, San? This is what Paul's been talking about, isn't it?" Morris nearly spat at the floor in disgust but held back. His features rippled eerily instead. "This is why he said we should allow ourselves to be captured." He threw up his hands and stalked to the opposite end of his cylinder, away from San.

San narrowed his eyes at Morris.

"It's okay," Paul's mellow voice said. He slowly stood up from the floor of his cylinder next to Morris's. "This is why we're here. I have to tell San what I see."

San stalked to the side closest to Paul. He could feel the anger flaring. Paul was always so calm. Nothing could faze him, but he'd also been the one to give Aarti the timing that let her sneak out of first the lab and then the base all those years ago. Even so, he always seemed to rub San the wrong way.

"Fine, and what do you see Paul," San snarled, one palm flat against the cylinder's glass.

Paul looked at him. The contempt in his gaze was enough to make San flush with shame. There had been a time when Paul thought that he was the strongest person he knew, when Paul would trail after him the way Ella trailed after Court and Jebediah. The years had been kind to him before he wound up in a cylinder.

His hair was clean and cut into a trendy style, the intermittent curl tamed by some sorcery of hair products. His clothes, though torn, weren't some cheap buy out of a discount mart, but showed that someone was taking care of him, especially since one of the buttons on his shirt had been replaced by one that nearly matched the others. San could see Paul disdaining an actual matching button. The guy was just that superstitious, even now.

"Fine, you want to know, San? You want to know what your selfishness might cost everybody?" Paul near-shouted at him, rousing some of the others nearby.

San felt a moment's trepidation as Paul's eyes whited out.

"One, I see Lucy chained to a bed, belly fat with child. You lead the overlord's troops, Ella by your side as a loyal lieutenant. I see heads on a table: mine, Court's and Sabrina. There are probes in mine, and they're removing pieces of Court's, dripping with silver. Sabrina has tubes coming out of hers, leading to a multitude of vials, each neatly labeled. I see the world in shambles as the overlords overtake it. The resistance is futile as you, Ella and your troops devastate all in your path."

San felt a chill pass over him. Sabrina was his own personal favorite. She could project her emotions somehow. No one had been able to figure out the method of delivery before Liberation. From the sound of it, if they all somehow failed to escape and foil whatever plan was going on, they'd be royally screwed.

"Two, I see Lucy chained, her belly fat with an overlord's get. You're a reluctant general, drugged out of your mind and willing to work for your next hit. Ella stands beside you, both jailor and jailed. She's no longer Ella, but Sphinxie and stronger though she cries tears of blood. I see heads on a table: mine, Leilani's and Court's. There are probes trying to trigger my talent and Court's brain is in silver laced pieces. Leilani's is being kept viable with some sort of technology and she's still trying to scream. I see a lab with Rena and Sabrina within. Tubes run from them to vials, and they're being tortured to produce serums. I see the world run red with blood before being destroyed as the overlords flee the world with their prizes."

San clenched his jaw. The first had been worse enough, but this one was much more horrible.

"Again," he ground out, his fingers closing into a fist. He could feel a mix of shame and fear bubbling up before he forced it down.

"Three, I see Lucy running, a babe in her arms. Court is controlling defense turrets, turning them on our oppressors. I see Lucy covering the babe's mouth as she plunges through a cloud of Rena's making, the guards chasing her succumbing in instants. I see Ella, uncollared and free, throwing herself at the guards to save Sabrina and myself. Even as we run, there is a flash of blue light that swallows her, the guards and the remaining overlords."

"No," one of the other cylinder occupants cried out before covering her mouth.

San recognized her as being from one of the batches between his and Ella's. He couldn't remember her name, but he did remember that she was a good contortionist. Unfortunately, physical flexibility wasn't enough to save her from the fate of being a future container. His blood ran cold as he realized that a number of the captives fell in that category. The breeding program seemed alive and well.

"I see Aarti, her fate realized, shooting down an overlord's vessel with a shining bow and arrow. I see Dawnie and Don racing to snatch guns out of the guards' hands and I see you, fighting alongside everyone." Paul stopped, frowning slightly. His eyes cleared to their normal blue. "Have you heard enough?"

"I've heard enough," San said, slumping downwards. "Who is the babe that Lucy is supposed to be running with?"

"Well, I would suppose it's mine," a new, unwelcome voice interjected.

San looked towards the voice's owner who had sauntered into the cylinder room. There was a glittering silver collar on his throat that flashed with every step. His skin was a reminiscent pale white, though a bit unhealthy as if he didn't get enough sun. Curling, dark green hair hung shaggily on his forehead, nearly obscuring his eyes.

"I didn't think you were still alive," San said, and it was true.

When Liberation had happened, this guy, along with his two cronies had bought them enough time to break the creche locks. San had last seen him saluting before turning back to the fight, smoke grenades and worse in his hands.

"I didn't think I was tailoring those drugs for you," the collared man replied. "Lucy's going to be mad at me, isn't she?" He asked as he smiled shallowly. "It's always fun to make her mad, isn't it?"

San swallowed as he approached.

"And what are you going to do now, Niles?" San forced himself to stand. It was never a good idea to show weakness to Niles. He noticed that Paul had resumed his nap against his cylinder's wall.

"We're going to wait and see if my baby sister shows up." Niles started laughing and didn't seem able to stop.