It wasn't Ed that responded to the summons - he was a little busy at that moment.

What popped up in front of the kitsune-construct was another construct - a golden, petitely curved female with a cool, detached manner that looked upon the icon of Dr. Raye Ibaraki with an imperious expression.

The AI scanned the icon, and for a long moment it seemed as if nothing were going to happen. Finally, though, her soft, sultry voice resounded. In this place the power of that program could be felt in each syllable.

"Dr. Raye Ibaraki - Department Head, Medical and Cybernetics division - access, approved. Protocol: Spartan. Vital Status: Unconcious - severe nervous system and cardiovascular trauma, and cerebral damage. Deactivating Spartan Combat Exoskeleton for medical treatment."

—————

In the Sanctuary, the red-and-gold armor - now blackened and showing numerous minor dents from the multiple impacts of weapons fire, both from small arms and heavy weapons - came alive. The armor plates moved, began to retract towards the back of the suit in sections, revealing a thick black covering that resembled a futuristic, technical sort of musculature, which first rippled, then shrank back as though becoming almost liquid in structure, until it reformed into a long, thick black duster wrapped around the form of Batten's chief of security as he had been seen at the Mabon festivities.

There didn't seem to be much in the way of surface damage - a few bruises, for the most part - but the young man was unconscious, his breathing spastic, his muscles still twitching slightly as though he had received a heavy jolt of electricity.

Yeah, she was not looking to get on the bad side of that. Looked worse than the nastiest Black IC on the market.

"Dr. Raye Ibaraki - Department Head, Medical and Cybernetics division - access, approved. Protocol: Spartan. Vital Status: Unconcious - severe nervous system and cardiovascular trauma, and cerebral damage. Deactivating Spartan Combat Exoskeleton for medical treatment."

"Frag." She swore and jacked out of the feed and back into her body. The young demon's eyes widened in amazement as the doctor woke up as the armor completed it's change.

"I need you to keep this to yourself. I'll not have anyone endangering others by sharing this information." The doctor was adamant as she went to work on triaging Leo. The young demon just nodded and faded into the shadows.

She used the link to share the data with the AI, "What's the status on that Life support?" She needed the equipment to get to real work. She herself was not going anywhere.

She was gratefully for the efficiency of the men, even to the point of bringing her a chair. She nodded to Big Mike and directed the men that remained.

"You and you, Get a backboard under him." She was just as efficiency, working on prepping the heart monitors and the IV. "Careful, careful. He's suffered severe trauma to his CNS....I don't want him ending up like me."

She worked quickly, just as efficiently in getting Leo stabilized. She was going to need advance diagnostic facilities in order to determine the full extent of the injuries.

For now, she made do with the portable X-ray to determine the most immediate concerns.

The following takes place just before the events written about in In Extremis.

He's been here, in the dark, for a while.

Just...floating.

It's very calm, peaceful...restful.

For some reason he had the impression he hadn't had much rest lately.

It begins subtly, at first. Like a tug.

Or someone calling him from very far away.

A familiar voice...and yet not a voice at all.

For a moment there's regret. It's been so nice here, floating in the dark.

Briefly, a part of him wonders if this is what it's like, being born.

Waiting, floating in the dark, until the time comes.

How long has he been here"

Days" Minutes" Months" Hours"

He couldn't say, wouldn't lay bets on any amount of time. There is no time, here, in this place.

But there is something new, now. A glimmer of light.

The call, the pull, is coming from that direction.

there's no fear, only a kind of sadness that he has to leave.

Yes, he has to go. It's time.

He moves towards the light.

His eyes opened onto dim light playing across the ceiling above him. Not electric light - this had a wavering, flickering quality he associated immediately with candles. His eyes moved to look around the room, slowly - the muscles in his neck felt stiff, as if they hadn't been used in a while - looking at the surroundings. Utilitarian lines, white and taupe paint on the walls, gauzy white curtains.

He tested his feet first, and felt a sharp thrill of fear for a moment until he felt his toes move under the blanket. His arms came next, and as he moved the left he felt something tug at his skin. Lifting his head, he looked down and found there was an IV drip inserted.

With a faint frown, he realized he was in a hospital...or at least, some sort of medical facility. But why"

He tried to remember, and found that he couldn't. He had no idea how he got here.

For that matter, he had no idea where here was.

He hears the sound of paper, a page being turned, and he glanced to the right. Sitting there was a portly, balding man with glasses on, reading a newspaper that called itself the Rhy'din Post.

"Wh...where am I...?" he asked in a rusty, cracking voice.

The man looked up in surprise, followed by what was clearly amazement and no small amount of joy mingled with relief as he set the newspaper aside and stood, walking over to the bed. "Chief! Thank God, you're awake! How ya feelin', kid?"

He frowned at the man, confused. Had he just been called Chief" Chief of what? But as soon as the man asked how he was feeling, the response came almost automatically. "Thirsty..."

The portly man nodded with a grin and turned to the nightstand, picking up a silver pitcher and pouring some water into a glass. "Yeah, I guess you must be," the man said as he turned and held the glass out, speaking in an accent that was identified vaguely with New York, he remembered. Somehow. "You've been out of it for two days, laying there in a coma."

Two days" Was that all" For some reason it had felt like a lifetime to him. Taking the water, he brought the cup to his lips for a sip...and suddenly he was drinking in greedy gulps, barely pausing to breathe between them, until the glass was drained. His stomach cramped slightly from the sudden influx, but accepted the gift on a trial basis as he caught his breath, looking around again before returning his gaze to the portly man, looking him over a moment. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he felt he could trust this man. "Where am I?" he asked again.

The portly man arched an eyebrow at that, but his answer came immediately. "You're at the Sanctuary Hospice...when you wouldn't wake up after the attack, this was where Dr. Ibaraki brought you."

Sounds Japanese, he thought. How did he know that' He's sure he's never heard of this doctor, never met him. Or maybe it was a she. Though the way the man said the name, it seemed he should. Next question. "And who are you?"

That got a raise of both eyebrows from the man, a look of concern coming across his features. "I'm Jason...Jason Tatopolous. Your deputy, don't you remember?" The look of concern deepened to worry as the man looked into his eyes. "How much do you remember, Chief?"

He frowned again, thinking, then shook his head as he came up with a blank. "I...don't remember anything..."

The look of worry deepened on the portly man's - Jason's - face. "Do...do you remember your name?" he asked.

He hadn't thought to try remembering that...but as he searched his memory, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't. He knew he was in a hospital room, knew that the man had been reading a newspaper, that Ibaraki was a Japanese name and the man's accent was from New York. But...

...he couldn't remember his name.

For Jason, the look of frustrated distress on his boss' face, along with his silence, was more than enough of an answer. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the half-dollar sized black disc communicator and tapped the center of it. "Diana, this is Jason Tatopolous. Please send a message to Dr. Ibaraki...tell her that Leo's awake and we need her back at the Sanctuary as soon as possible."

Raye's sudden one-sided vocal communication (at least to Katt's ears) with the A.I. was completely baffling and when she had been told of both the wounded Edward and the awakening Leo, she didn't know what to do with herself.

A flare of worry over Edward's health...

An overwhelming wealth of relief that Leo was awake...

She didn't now if she was coming or going. So when Raye allowed her to tag along the first thing she wanted to do was help!

Wheeling Raye was a task all in itself. Making sure she didn't rush off with Raye and frighten the poor woman. Anxiety was a horrible thing and it left her on nerves end.

It only grew when they arrived in front of the door to Leo's room and she was requested to..wait' An unsure sound escaped the back of her throat as she looked at Raye. She was tired of sitting on her hands but in the end she numbly she nodded to Raye. What was more important to her was Leo's condition.

"Sure thing. If I can do anything just let me know." The handles to the wheelchair was released and she stepped back, scratching at one of her arms to keep her hands occupied. She passed a tiny smile to Raye, trying to encourage and assure the woman as she took a spot on the opposite wall to the door.

By the time the doctor arrived he has managed to get himself into a sitting position, more or less, and had taken a more detailed look around the room. The closet had been left open, and in it he could see a long, black duster that looked unusually thick in places, along with a pair of jeans and a shirt that might've been silk. And boots. Most interesting of all, though, was a shoulder harness with a gun in the holster.

A single glance at the black carbonized finish of the weapon told him that the model was an IMI Desert Eagle Mk. XIX...though how he knew that was beyond him. Unconsciously, he flexed his right hand as he looked at it. There was an undeniable feeling of familiarity as his eyes looked over the pistol, and he was pretty sure the gun was his, even though he couldn't remember ever having held it.

Looking at himself in the hospital johnny he was clad in, then back to the clothing, he was sure it would all fit him - the coat, pants, shirt, even the shoulder harness.

When the doctor wheeled herself in and introduced herself, referring to the man who had identified himself as Jason as a deputy chief, his first thought was that he must have been a cop, or some other kind of law enforcement officer...but thinking about it, it didn't make sense. He knew some articles of law, sure, and there was even the UCMJ (Uniform Code of Military Justice) that rattled through his head...but while the thought wasn't at all an unpleasant one, it didn't feel right.

At the very least, though, he was sure he wasn't a criminal.

The doctor, like Jason, didn't appear familiar to him at all, as he looked her over, a fact that didn't frustrate him as much as it did in Tatopoulous' case, with the easy, familiar way the man spoke to him. After all, with the way she introduced herself, he could very well have never met before.

Leo' My name is...Leo.

It wasn't so bad, as names went, he guessed. At least he knew what his name was now, but like everything else, it was unfamiliar.

Settling his eyes on the doctor, he gave her a neutral nod. "Well, since he told you, maybe you can tell me a few things, doctor. Like what happened to me that landed me in the hospital, where exactly I am, and who I am."

None of it sounds familiar. Not a bit.

The name...Lord, was it horrible! Heracleides" Geez...where was that name from' It was a hideous name, and for the life of him he can't imagine anyone ever calling him by it. Small wonder Jason called him Chief - it fit better, went with the job the doctor had described to him.

And...he wasn't just anyone found in a dark alley somewhere with total memory loss...but the head of security for a whole company. And if it was one with a medical and cybernetics division, it had to be at least a company that wasn't some mom-and-pop outfit.

And, it seemed, he was the type that would throw himself into a fight to help someone else. That had cost him, it seemed, in ways he didn't understand - and, he thought, might well never remember.

Briefly, it occurred to him to wonder who it had been that he had plunged into a fight to save.

But try as he might, he couldn't remember - nothing came to him at all, not even a flash of something familiar. Even his name didn't sound familiar when the doctor said it - she might as well have called him John Doe, or James Smith.

He got up and walked over to a full-length mirror next to the closet, taking a look at himself.

The face staring back at him was a stranger. there was nothing familiar to be seen there at all - it could have been any other face in the world and it wouldn't have been any more familiar.

At least he wasn't bad looking, he supposed...but that didn't help his memory either. With a sigh he closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly, frowning.

"I...I need some time alone, please...to...adjust." He didn't look up or around, just shook his head to himself as he spoke in a softer tone. "Please go."

He didn't move again until the door closed behind the last person, and only when it did would he go and sit on the bed, facing towards the window.

No identity...no clue...what do I do now..."