Some days ago..*

The large stone chamber was dark save for what light made it across the floor from the sparse sconces lining the walls. A raised platform, with three steps leading up to two massive stone chairs, was the only landmark. One of the chairs was occupied by a dark figure, their elbows bent on the armrests, fingertips tapping together. He looked placid, almost nonchalant.

Habbor knew better.

He stood facing this platform, head inclined respectfully to the one before him. To his left stood one of his associates. With his hulking posture, sharp features and knife-like sneer, Rorel had always reminded Habbor of a large vulture.

"Rorel," the dark figure before them said. Habbor saw Rorel's head lift. "Report."

"Number forty-six's progress is equivalent to what we should expect from her." It sounded like he was trying to hold back laughter, most definitely speaking through one of his smirks. Rorel was amused by that. Habbor's hands tightened minimally at the small of his back. The dark figure's attention shifted palpably to him.

"Number sixteen has been deployed?"

"As ordered."

The dark figure grunted. "Send the rest of those under your control to the city as well."

Rorel spoke up. "With all due respect, I feel we should be under the impression that number forty-six will be able to handle this mission on her own. It is, after all, childishly simple."

"When I want your opinion, Rorel, I will ask for it."

Rorel nodded and kept silent. Habbor had felt no need to interject. He agreed with Rorel, for once, however entirely selfish his reasons were.

"Habbor, you will deploy your entire group to Rhy'Din immediately. They will rendezvous at a point of your choosing and go as a platoon."

Habbor nodded, the subtle tinge of dread trickling into his ancient bones. He had not felt such a thing in many years, and he wasn't fond of feeling the sensation again.

"You are dismissed."

Habbor nodded once more and swiftly vacated the chamber, his mind working and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He had the distinct feeling that, because his actions concerning the child had been found out, all of those in his custody were in grave danger. He would waste no time in warning them.

In the stone chamber, the conversation between the dark figure and Rorel continued..

"You have done well, Rorel. Your observations of the youth have been essential."

"Thank you, Rimuto."

"I would like you to deploy your entire group as well, save for number forty-six. She is not to be informed of the new developments."

"Would the platoon's target be the child?"

"No," the dark figure, Rimuto, responded. The sound of a long, tired sigh filled the room, as if he regretted what he was about to say. His voice confirmed no such idea. "They are to engage Habbor's platoon in battle.. and they are to eliminate every single one."

Beneath the shadow of his fedora, the Handler's sneer grew. Punishment. But for what crime? Though it was not as if Rorel was questioning his orders. He was, in fact, greatly anticipating it.

As if reading his mind, Rimuto provided an answer. "Habbor's influence and ideals have already become a concern, what with the creation of this.. abominable man child. We do not know how far it has spread. The only logical course of action is to wipe the slate clean, and remove all of his charges."

Rorel bowed politely, eager to carry out his orders. "How much should I reveal to them?"

"You may tell them the truth. It will serve as both sport and a learning experience for them. But remember.. number forty-six is not to be informed."

Rorel bowed once more.

"You are dismissed."

And like his associate before him, he too quickly left the chamber.

Night, November 27th..

He didn't..understand. Sometimes he felt that he was ready to go, ready to disappear..leave them behind. And other times..

Toby laid on his back, the grass of the glen crunchy beneath him from the night's frost. He stared up at the stars, thinking, tracing patterns between the pinpoints of light. He couldn't see his own hand a foot from his face, it was still pretty dark.

He closed his eyes..they were useless anyway, and touched his mouth. They had.. He'd..kissed..Katt. More than once. It seemed like it happened every time they were together. Despite the cold air, his cheeks and ears burned.

He rolled onto his left side, pulled his knees up towards his chest, pushed his face into the grass. It was cool..tickled his eyelashes. She had..asked him about a date.. The thought made his stomach shiver. He didn't know why..he didn't want to. Maybe..because..he didn't want her to..

Ixora had told him that he liked Katt..loved her even. It..scared him. He'd asked if..he was supposed to feel more. The only thing he knew..was that he liked it..when she held his hand, or.. The reason why..was always eluding him. What if there was no reason..? What if the reason..was the same as hers?

Why did it start? Mayu..had asked him to give her a chance. He..wouldn't do it if he didn't want to.

There was too much in his head. He liked it..but, he was also waiting for..

His chest twinged uncomfortably. He was completely used to it now..even able to fight off the urge to rub at it. But..it was a different kind of pain. It wasn't an urgent, deep feeling. More like a gentle muscle spasm on his skin, prickling the hair at the back of his neck.

He..didn't feel right. His eyes opened and drank in the shadows around him. The moon's light cast a gentle blue glow on the water of the lake nearby. It caught on his newly refilled vial..making its glow too bright. He quickly clapped a hand over it, holding it tightly. The spasm in his chest was moving..he now felt it, instead of over his heart, twitching on the right side of his rib cage. His gaze shifted accordingly, just barely lifting his head.

He was in the open. He was too aware of his surroundings. Every sound was too loud, every shadow and light..moved. The smallest breeze felt like a tornado on his body.

He was..being watched.

No sooner had he come to that conclusion than a sharp pain, colder and harder than anything he had ever felt..pierced his back..right between his shoudlerblades. He gurgled a surprised noise, his hands instantly covered in a spray of crimson. The taste of copper filled his mouth again..but this time it was his own.

It hurt to move his head, hurt to even breathe, but he somehow did..and saw a half foot long silver blade, streaked in blood, protruding from his chest.

"All alone, are we?"

He screamed, suddenly finding himself flying into the air, the ground too far below him. The blade..that was what was lifting him up. He thrashed painfully, like a fish on a hook, holding his chest around the wound, the vial. The voice..it was behind him..too far away. Female.. Ice water surged into him, freezing him, stilling all movements. He was completely limp by the time he slammed back into the ground. He felt the earth buckle and sink with the impact. He had made his own crater. The weapon..whatever it was..was yanked from him, out his back. He coughed, vaguely seeing a stream of dark liquid spew from his lips.

He was flat on his back again..and he saw the stars..now swimming to and fro over his head. He rode the waves of pain, his breaths too short.

From his right came the sound of clinking metal..sabatons..the splatter of fluid being flicked from a blade. Toby clutched the wound in his chest, knowing that blood was leaking out of his back.. He shook, pain and fear mingling into one powerful sensation that completely overtook him.

The moonlight spilled over the figure of a tall, slender female. She was blond..like they all were, her long hair streaming, rippling like water. Massive pauldrons gleamed..as did the giant claymore in her hand when she pointed it down at him. Even though her face was in shadows, her silver eyes couldn't be mistaken.

Claymore..not Lisa.

His time..was now.

His throat seized around a gasp of fear..his whole body froze. All he could do was watch. Well, hardly. They were..fast. They had always been fast. Even Lisa..during the rare moments he watched her. In the milliseconds that passed..images danced before his eyes..his life. He squeezed his eyes shut to it.

What would..happen.. Would there be a light? A tunnel? He'd..never thought about it before. Then again, did it matter?

Wasn't this..what he wanted?

Mayu..Katt..Ixora. His friends. They..

Were they really in danger with him..? Was he just..blowing it out of proportion? But, Claymore like these..they wouldn't ever stop. They were ordered to kill him.

What about Lisa.. She'd been ordered, but she'd helped him..given him the information that he'd never known he'd been searching for. Ixora had asked him..if he ever wanted to find out what happened to him, why he was suddenly.. And he'd told her no. He wasn't so sure that it was still the case.

He didn't want..to live a lie.

But, right now, a hair's breadth away from nothing..he didn't think..that he really wanted to die either. His friends..he wanted to see them.

One last time.

Toby swallowed and the taste of copper slithered down his throat, into his stomach, and the feeling of it startled him. There was no sword to compress his throat. Why..could he still swallow? Or breathe? It hurt to..

Muffled sounds met his ears..echoing clangs of metal, shouts. One voice rang clear.

"Attackin' a Human, Denise? You've gone insane!" The last word blended in with a battlecry.

He felt a rough slap on his cheek next. It forced his head to the side, crimson sprayed out of his teeth. He retched.

"Get up."

There was something familiar about the voice. It was next to his ear, female. Angry..?

"You are still alive, but you will not be should you choose to continue laying there like the repugnant waste you are."

Toby tried to force his head back the other direction, but the muscles in his neck burned. It took effort, effort took breath.. Breathing..was becoming..

"You haven't used your Yoma powers yet, Toby. Have you yet to discover their abilities? With but a mere ten percent release, this injury could be on its way to healing itself."

Her voice was becoming warped. The dark shadows swam in with the light of the moon, the glitter off of the lake. He could barely hear the sounds of fighting. He felt lighter..colder.

Then the small hands of another gripping his shoulders..hoisting him into a seated position. His head lolled forward, blood coating his mouth before draining over his lap.

His arm was thrown over something, wrist gripped in a vice. Something wrapped around his back. The ground was under his feet. He was stumbling alongside someone. Who was helping him?

Grass turned to cobblestones. He felt the world tilt sideways, hardness at his back, hollow thunks as he all but fell onto it. Something..made of wood.

"If you do not, know that you will just die here, by your own hand, instead of one of ours. You must save yourself."

His head slumped to the side..and darkness took over.