Stupid rain. If it weren't for my blood adapting during precipitation and becoming acidic, I would suffer every time precipitation fell. Luckily, my body did adapt, and now my blood has a pH level that is about the same as the combined IQ of both Regulator and Basket: around one or two.

Would the two of you learn to lighten up? Here I thought that out of the two of you, at least one of you could take a little joke. I would have assumed that you would take my statement at face value, Basket.

I smirked.

My eyes surveyed my one-man community. One Stone Age building was composed of five slabs of stone from the hills. Five Bronze Age buildings, each composed of fire-hardened clay. Now, I had ten Iron Age Buildings, each with a special purpose. Also, these were composed of bricks, more structurally stable then their predecessors. Out of design, my Stone Age building was closest to the nearby river edge, with the five Bronze Age buildings surrounding it in a semicircle. Likewise, the ten Iron Age buildings encompassed the Bronze Age buildings in the same manner.

As I progressed through the Industrial, Atomic, and Information Ages, my buildings grew in number, complexity, and structural strength. I also found myself having to build continually stronger fortifications against attack, as the beasts that were part of Overseers "survival test" were evolving before my eyes. With every new attack, more and more in number grew stronger, smarter, faster, more agile, and could adapt to my technological breakthroughs with greater and greater ease. Now was no exception.

I had noticed the early warning system of trip wires activating, and quickly prepared my defenses. I was just glad that these were land attackers, and I didnt have to worry about naval or aerial assault.

At least, not yet.

Just in case, I closed off the river route with five steel blocks over four meters thick each. It might hold off some invaders for just enough time for me to run over and do something about them. Assuming I was still alive at that point in the battle, of course. I had tested my anti-air stream of three hundred homing missile turrets some time before and they worked perfectly. My land defense was also strong, with over seven hundred electronic rifles, which fired at about four thousand rounds a minute. My seventy-five rocket launchers only had about ten rockets each, self-loading. I just hoped that the battle didn't outlast my supplies of ammunition. I held the binoculars around my neck up to my eyes, and noticed some movement on the horizon.

Here they came; they looked more and more humanoid each time I saw them. These ones had a humanoid stature, complete with only two arms and two legsthats certainly a change. I conducted a quick head count: only eight hundred or so. Where were the rest? There were usually at least a thousand, sometimes more.

I cursed as the familiar howling of fowl filled the air. They had aerial power as well! Great birdlike monsters came screeching out of the air, talons the size of my hands coming straight toward me. Without hesitation, I pushed the button that activated my homing missile weaponry while pushing down another for the rifles as the "Brutes" as I called them came into range.

As the loud noises of dead brutes and fowl roared through the air, I hefted my personal weapon; a sword of pure steel, different than one of my obsolete Iron Age swords. This, my Brutebuster, had a huge electric current running through it, powerful enough to kill any living being by just striking it. Luckily, my uniform was thick enough and not composed of electrically-conducting material, so as long as I didn't kill myself with it, I'd be okay.

A feral scream from behind me stopped my current viewing of the battle. Brutes were coming out of the ground! That meant that they had learned how to tunnel! I nearly dropped my Brutebuster in shock as I noticed what the first one to exit was carrying. It was a crude, stone club. Much like I had carried when I was limited to Stone Age weaponry, but the fact that they have had learned both tunneling and weaponry gave me the nagging suspicion that my life expectancy was decreasing inversely with their learning curve, which kept growing steeper.

I really hate Overseer's survival test. That Designer had irritated me constantly with his 'tests' and his requests. My distrust and distaste of the entity charged with my development was growing exponentially.

Keeping my grip on Brutebuster strong, I leapt down from the battlements, confident in my new weaponry to stop the main body of the invaders while I dealt with the more intelligent Brutes. I also noticed that theyd evolved more height as well as intelligence, for they were taller than I now.

Deciding to leave my analyzing for the autopsy afterwards, I began to tear into the group of still disorganized would-be invaders. It only took about forty dead bodies for them to finally figure out that I was attacking.

They learned quickly.

There were still over a hundred or so left, and it took me longer than the mean to kill all of them. Many of them could leap over the strikes that I made, and they were more offensive than usual, thanks to their new weapon skills. I took over thirty hits in the torso, twenty in the arms and legs, and seven massive blows to the head before all of the Brutes were dispatched. I held a bloodied Brutebuster in one hand, the other nearly shattered after a Brute-induced clubbing. The entire area was coated with orange Brute blood as well as blue blood, which had been in my body only a few moments before. I dropped to my knees as the Brutebuster fell from my hand. Landing in a rather large puddle of blood, some of it my own, I lay down on my back, gasping for breath. It would take me a while to crawl back to the medical lab to bandage myself up.

Returning to a sitting position, I slowly and painfully removed my gloves, jacket, and top. I stared at my torso, bruised and bloodied. Blue blood scrambled down my wounds. Thats when I noticed something unusual about my forearms.

At about my elbow, the normally tan skin ended, and my skin color changed to black. This black was much darker than any other black mineral, food, or object I had ever seen before. The forearms themselves were about half as thick as my triceps, themselves huge after endless manual labor and unceasing battles.

My arms were so black that I could swear my eyes almost slid off it. My eyes continued down the arm and found a claw in place of a hand. It had sharp "fingers" on the end, nearly as sharp as a fowls talons. I quickly removed my pants and boots, finding the same result. From the knees down, my legs and feet were encased in some kind of black scales, which ended in claws in place of feet.

I began to panic about when the scales slithered up my shoulders and waist area. The blackened limbs which were not unlike a dragons were still under my voluntary control, but I felt that authority begin to slip as I got up and began to run, disregarding all of the pain from the battle only a few moments ago.

As I ran, I screamed. For the third time in my existence, I had no idea what to do. I tried calling out to Regulator. Silence was my only response. The black scales had reached my neckline. In a desperate attempt, I tried to reach Overseer, the one I was sure that was responsible for...this...transformation.

To my surprise, I actually got a response. I had never heard Overseer's voice in my head until then, but I'm glad that I hadn't, and I hope to never again. Every syllable bored into the very center of my being as darkness engulfed me.

"Laddie, wake up! Laddie!"

I felt someone shaking me. As I wearily opened my eyes, I noticed a figure dressed in a dark blue uniform. I was staring into his face, which was composed of bright red hair and a thick beard of the same color. His green eyes were quite bright, and a worried look covered his rough face. Glancing down, I noticed a badge on the man's left side, and a nametag on his right. After I read the nametag, my surprise and confusion grew. No sound left my lips, but they moved as if I had.

"R-regulator?"

Regulators grin widened, if at all possible. "One and the same, squirt. Welcome to your mind." Hauling me up to a standing position with one hand and no apparent effort, he waved the other in an extravagant gesture.

I took stock of my surroundings. Wherever I was, it was big. Behind me were eight glass doors, all leading "outside" to what looked like a very turbulent storm. There was lightning, thunder, and dark ashen clouds dominating the outside landscape. To my immediate left was a staircase that hugged a supporting column. Behind the column was a hallway that had two doors, each with a "Now Playing" sign in front of it. In front of me and over Regulator's shoulder was a counter with two men behind it. Above one of them was a sign that read, "Concessions". To my right was another hallway with another door that also had a "Now Playing" sign, but with a different label on it. To my immediate right was a small alcove with three people playing some type of game.

I turned back to Regulator. "Where am I? The last thing I remember was running like mad with those black scales infesting my body. What happened?"

Regulator chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Thats kind o' a tough story, kiddo. How about ah tell ye after ye've met everyone." Regulator explained that everyone here was part of my "Central Self", or my core personality. Those that created me installed my mind with others whose duty was to protect me, the Central Self, and to help me progress throughout my existence.

In our current location, the "lobby", I saw three men arguing. The first, apparently the critic of the other two, was wearing a suit. His face was flushed in anger; by the way it contorted, it frequently was so. His finger was frequently pointed at one of the other two as he scolded his companions for one reason or another. As we walked up to the triad, Regulator whispered to me that the name of the angry man was Pest. It quickly became obvious why as the two of us listened to Pest preach about the incompetence of his fellow personas.

He rounded on the other man in a suit, the one with the thin mustache and the confident smirk on his tightened face. Given his rather puny stature, the critic looked like little more than a child pouting. Pest pointed his finger at the man. "Just what have you done to help Central, huh? Ill tell you what you've done: nothing! Absolutely nothing! He'd be better off if you just died and freed up the mental space!"

Either taking no offense to Pest's accusations or not showing any, Parasite, the mustachioed man, smiled and placed his arm around Pest's shoulder, who quickly shrugged it off. "My dear boy, I have done nothing simply because it is not yet time to assert myself. Remember that I function most well in sticky social situations, and our benevolent leader hasn't found himself in one of those yet, now has he?"

The apparent acquiescence of Pest was only visible for a moment before he turned towards the man with a small spyglass attached to his waist, along with a pair of binoculars hanging from his neck. While the man's eyes were constantly bouncing back and forth, they were much cooler than Pests. There was no passion in those steel-blue eyes; only haughty indifference.

Before Pest could even open his mouth, the frozen blue eyes stared at him and a frown rose on the cold mans face. "Dont even think about it, Pest. My purpose in Central's existence is both necessary and proper, and being told what it is by a pathetic fool like you is not only insulting, its disgusting. Unlike Parasite, I have no qualms about pounding you into the ground."

Snarling, Pest retorted, but I could hear very little of what was said after that. Regulator had grabbed my arm and whisked me off to another section of the lobby, saying that there wasn't enough time to lollygag, whatever that meant.

The two of us arrived at the concession stand, where there were two men eating. As I looked closer, I noticed that the two men were identical twins! Both of them were wolfing down food with little abandon. Each of the men were easily more massive than I, much of it in fat. Both had oil-black hair done up in a bun, and both were wearing nothing more than a cross between a belt and a diaper.

Rolling his eyes, Regulator spoke. "Meme, the lad's here. Why dont ye stop actin' like Glutton, eatin' us out o' house and home. Come out and meet 'im."

Before my startled eyes, one of the twins stopped eating and shifted form. With shimmer, the fat, half-naked man before me becamewell, me. Every detail was exactly similar to my body, down to the electric blue eyes.

Regulator sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Meme, when ah said to meet Central, ah didn't say become the lad. Ye probably frightened the sh...shi...well, th ye-know-what out o' him." Meme shifted back to what Regulator told me was his natural form, that of a mime.

Glutton looked up from the mountain of food that he was consuming and glared at the mimic. "I hate it when he steals what's rightly mine- the food!"

Pulling out his baton, Regulator waved it menacingly at Glutton. "Ah told ye that th' food was everybody's, not yers! If someone wants food, they can get it without ye harassin' them!"

"The food is mine! I am Glutton, hear me roar!"

Sounds more like "I am Glutton, hear me belch" would be more appropriate.

After belting the obese man in the pudgy head with his baton, effectively ending the discussion, Regulator led me to an alcove nearby. This was what Regulator called the "Arcade" for some odd reason. There were three people chatting in the cozy grotto, two females and one male. Each was seated at a comfortable chair that was facing towards a screen, with the title of each arcade game above the monitor.

The first woman that I set my eyes upon was dressed in black slacks and a button-up top with a high collar. A small white band was visible under the collar, covering part of her neck. Her heart-shaped face had a smile on it as the two of us made eye contact, and she nodded at me. Her short, roan hair was curly and bounced with every movement of her head. "Greetings, Central. I am Zealot. With the exception of our local Mutt-God high priest, I am one of the few personas of Faith-based morality here in your mind. Allow me to introduce my other two companions here in the Arcade Alcove."

She turned towards the man, who was wearing a tuxedo that looked entirely too small for him. The sleeves didn't go past his wrists, nor his pants past his ankles. His rotund stomach was straining against his white shirt and vest, and the cummerbund looked ready to burst. Zealot introduced him as Orchestra, a persona representing musical creativity.

Before Zealot could introduce the other woman, she stood, straightened her long skirt, and introduced herself. Coughing slightly to gain attention, she adjusted her large glasses and narrowed her eyes. "Central Self, I am Discipline. As an aide to Regulator, my duty is to keep some semblance of order in your mind and I-"

A scream from upstairs jolted all five of us out of our cordial introduction. "Get back here, now! Basket, this is the last straw!"

Taking the liberty of finishing Discipline's sentence, I said, "Am doing a terrible job of it, apparently."

Both Regulator and Discipline's faces took on a shade of red that I had not seen before. Scowls appeared on both their faces almost simultaneously. Also in synchronization, the two of them ran up the stairs. The Scotsman took the steps three at a time, while the featureless and rather flat Disciplinarian, hobbled by the long skirt she wore, had to take one step at a time.

Deciding to continue the tour myself, I strolled over to one of the large double-doors and gently pushed on one of them. There was a small squeak as the door opened. I entered a dark corridor with two people talking around the corner, as well as an eerie light emanating from the same area. Ever curious, I felt along the carpeted walls until I turned the corner and found two young women watching the two voices I had heard earlier on a large monitor perpendicular to my location. Walking up to the two women, I began to introduce myself.

Both women looked at me for a moment before throwing handfuls of popcorn in my face. "Down in front!" one of them shouted.

The other one threw another handful of the yellow food at me, one kernel of which bounced off my nose. "This is the good part!"

Realizing that I wouldnt be able to properly introduce myself until the images on the screen finished, I sat down next to one of the two women and watched it with them. After the first two scenes bored me to near-death, I focused my attention to my two female companions. The one that I was sitting next to had tears running down both of her high cheekbones, while the second was gazing at the monitor with an almost surgical precision.

The woman with the long, raven-black hair that was pulled back in a ponytail appeared to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown. I had never seen anyone so emotionally distraught in my life. Of course, that list was rather short, but the fact was that I had never seen someone so shattered emotionally. Pulling a small, white cloth out of one of her pockets, the crying woman handed me her bag of the yellow kernels before continuing her requiem of sobs into the handkerchief. If I knew how to console her or what she was so upset over, I would do so, but I didnt, so I wasn't planning on it.

What interested me more was the bag of food that was placed on my lap. Hesitatingly taking a bite of a few of the kernels, I realized how tasty they were and helped myself to some more. I only refrained from eating any more when, out of my peripheral vision, I noticed the woman who had been crying her lungs out only seconds before glare at me with an intense anger. Her gray eyes darted back and forth from the now-empty bag of popcorn to my face. I gulped down the last few of the kernels in embarrassment and handed her the empty bag. She took it with trembling fingers, her eyes not leaving mine.

Moments later, I found the empty bag tossed into my face, and a snarling female in my face as soon as I had removed the offending pouch. She fumed at me to get out of her theater, which I hurriedly did. As I dashed off, I took one last glance back at the silent woman in a long, white lab coat, who simply stood there and smiled at my exile.

As I rushed out of the theater, I collided with someone carrying a few cans of paint who was rushing into the room that I had just exited. The two of us stumbled to the ground, but I was somewhat more unfortunate. Paint spilled all over my clothes and something circular and heavy crashed into my face. I lost my balance and stumbled forward, hands tossing the offending object out of my line of sight. However, there was paint on the circular obstruction, and paint filled my eyes, completely blinding me. Bumbling haphazardly, I slipped up on a patch of slick paint. Crashing to the ground, I cursed loudly.

Rubbing my eyes helped little to remove the paint, and I quickly grew frustrated as I constantly began to bump into incredibly large and hard objects. I quickly began to wish I had some sort of fire hose to wash this paint out of my eyes.

From a few meters to my left, I heard a dull thud, as if something had just hit the ground. I heard someone call out, "Hey, whered that hose come from?"

I smacked my forehead. Of course a hose would appear; this is my mind, after all. Attempting to trace the voice and not wanting to fall over my own two feet, I crawled on my hands and knees over to where the hose lay. If I could will its existence, perhaps I could create some plumbing as well.

Shaking my head and keeping my eyes closed tightly to prevent any paint from irritating my oculus any more, I stood up slowly and waved my arms around to prevent any more possibility of running into walls. My first shaky step forward resulting in slipping in another slip-up on a puddle of colored pigment, sending me crashing to the ground once more.

"Need ta get rid o' some o' that paint, laddie? We'll getcha clean in a jiffy."

Regulator's voice was right near where I thought the hose was. "Now, just a moment, Regulator-"

A liquid torrent greeted my mouth as the hose started with a whirlwind of water. I was forcibly rolled over and over again as the incredible force of the hose pushed me back. The potent stream of water filled my mouth and punished my body as the current slammed into my body time and time again.

Just as soon as it had begun, it ceased. After a few times of thumping my chest, I successfully regurgitated all of the water that had been forcibly stuffed into my lungs. Shaking myself off, not unlike a furry animal, I slowly regained my vision as the droplets of water that still clung to me forced the runoff of the wet paint. Slowly, I rose to one knee, and found myself staring at a pair of boots. Tilting my neck upward, I saw Regulator's smiling face staring back at me.

"Feeling better, laddie?"

Snarling, I quickly stood and socked Regulator in the cheek. He wheeled backwards and, being rocketed over in a somersault, fell to the ground in a Scottish heap.

Rubbing his sore jaw, the policeman stood and gazed at me quizzically. "What did ye do that for, laddie?"

Taking a towel from a kindly woman who offered one, I turned to face him. Smirking, I replied, "Two reasons. First, don't ever spray me with such a high-pressure hose as that. What possessed you to think that I needed something that powerful to get some paint off, anyway?"

He shot back, "Ah didn't make th blasted thing, remember?"

That's true, I suppose. My anger deflated. "Thats a worthwhile point, Regulator. Sorry about that."

"Don't fret about it, kiddo. Ye mentioned two reasons, though. If ye don't mind mah asking, what was th' second reason?"

Smiling, I responded, "I wanted to see if what Basket was yearning for was worth it."

The bearded man sighed and grabbed my arm. "Ye young uns will never respect mah...let's just continue th tour, shall we?"

I stopped him, placing my hand upon his arm. "One question, Regulator. Who were the women in that theater that I just visited?"

"Well, ye just met Roma, th' artist; that lass is th' one that ye bumped inta."

"The woman with the rather drastic moods was"

"Oh, that'd be Prism. She represents yer most emotional extremes."

I vaguely remembered seeing the third woman for a very short time. "What about the woman in the white lab coat, Regulator?"

"That'd be Ethics, yer go-to gal if ye have any qualms with morals. She doesn't like interferin' in other persona affairs tha' much, if it causes harm. That's why the lass looks like a doctor."

I nodded in affirmation.

The two of us walked in silence after that.

The next two theaters I visited passed by quickly, and the personas I met were more difficult to recall, but nonetheless unique in their own right. At one theater, I greeted: Stealth, Paladin, and Soldier. Stealth was into black ops: espionage, sabotage, assassinations, etc. She never spoke, instead using various hand gestures that Regulator interpreted for me. Paladin represented an expert of strategy and tactics while Soldier was an expert in hand-to-hand fighting, weapons, and magic. When Regulator whisked me to the final theater downstairs, I was introduced to Ninjo and Giri. Those two were watching movies, constantly stopping to analyze whether or not the characters actions were honorable. They were my personas of honor and duty, after all.

I had noticed throughout the tour that a man I could only assume was Basket was constantly chasing many of the female personas, such as Zealot, Roma, and others. They were usually both quite close to one another when they stopped running. Quite frequently, I noticed Basket and his female companion go upstairs, where I hadn't been yet. However, Regulator frequently had to leave me to go chase him down for flirting with the other personas. I usually hung around the lobby and helped myself to a few snacks while chatting with some of my fellow personas.

I was nearly dragged upstairs when Regulator returned from hunting down Basket yet again. Regulator was certainly nervous; after all, this visit hadn't exactly gone as he had planned.

Upstairs, there were a few offices, as well as two bathrooms. Walking into one of the offices, I met Blue Collar. The dirtied blue overalls and workman's shirt underneath led me to his obvious function here in the community. His skin was filthy, oil and grease stains covering most of the epidermis. He was somewhat short and incredibly wiry. We didn't chat for long, as he had to perform his duty of repairman, and Regulator led me off. The two of us entered the mens bathroom to find Eccentric and Social. The former was the complete opposite of Pest; optimistic and happy. He was rather pudgy, wearing exquisite silk clothing. He apparently had some kind of lisp that kept him from pronouncing some words correctly, and was possessed by a rather blatant superiority complex. He refused to talk with me for very long, warding off any request to chat with someone born of such a low station.

Social, on the other hand, was exactly what his name implied. Nonchalant and diplomatic, he told me that whenever I needed any help with an uncomfortable social situation, hed be there to help me out. While I was talking to them, I heard a loud, deep voice emerge from one of the stalls.

"Could you keep it down? I'm busy in here! I can't go if you don't let me concentrate!"

I noticed a look of fear on the faces of Eccentric and Social before they bolted out of the bathroom. Turning in the direction of the voice, I saw the stall door open. What greeted me was a man whose shoulders were higher than my head. I had to crane my neck just to meet his gaze. He wore a rather large hat with a feather protruding from it. Beneath the coat, there was a white armani suit with black shirt and a purple tie. On his hands were over a dozen gold rings, which could easily be used as weapons. In his right hand, he carried a cane. Even though he looked like he could tear me limb from limb, I felt no danger.

"Basket, I take it?"

"Yep. I'm priest to the Almighty Mutt-God and his penguin legions. It's certainly an honor to meet you face to face, Central Self. Tell me, do you believe in the divinity of He Who Leads the Penguin Legions?"

To put it mildly, Basket was much more imposing in person than as simply a voice in my head. When I didn't reply, he looked like I had insulted his manhood or something. His foaming at the mouth and the rage in his eyes didn't calm me down any. I thought he was going to try and kill me.

Of course, that was before Regulator hit him over the head with a baton, knocking him out cold. He turned to me. "Ah love being Regulator."

Shaking off the brusque violence I had just witnessed, I asked Regulator, "So, what's the problem with him? He's usually much calmer when we're just chatting."

Regulator growled before kicking the limp body on the floor. "Ah'm not even sure when, or even how, he was installed with the rest of us. Basket here is mah bane, y'see. He and ah don't always see eye ta eye, and I have ta lay him low every now and then. Ye should know that by now. Ah'm surprised that ah was able to lay him low like that. It usually takes awhile, y'see."

I blinked again. Regulator took my arm, and led me out. "Umm...shouldn't we do something about Basket?"

He shrugged. "Nah, he had it comin'. He'll be up, about, and sproutin Dog-Deity propaganda before long. Ye should know that better then anyone. Now, I want ye to meet two lovely ladies. If ye'll just follow meh." He was about to push on the door to the women's bathroom before I stopped him.

"Isn't that the women's bathroom?"

"What's yer point, lad?"

I stared at him as if he was mad. "Well, aren't we not supposed to go into women's bathrooms?"

He shrugged. "This's your mind, laddie. It doesn't really matter. Ah doubt anyone cares."

Apparently, someone did care, because as soon as Regulator opened the door, something hit him in the head. He fell to the floor while I picked up the offending object. A hairbrush?

A woman came out of the bathroom, looking quite cross. "Youpervert! How dare you try to sneak peeks of us in there? Don't you have any courtesy towards the fairer sex?"

I stared, not really listening to what she was saying. Actually, I was wondering where she got that outfit. It must have been tough to breathe in something that tight. It certainly did show quite a bit off. The red, silk blouse contrasted wonderfully with tight, short sky-blue skirt. Both were obviously cut to show off the womans stunning body. I wondered who had made that ethereal outfit for her.

The answer was rather obvious: Basket. Only he would make someone wear that kind of clothing.

I tried to intervene on Regulator's behalf before he was knocked unconscious as well. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Miss, he was merely showing me around."

She turned back on me, letting up on Regulator for a moment. "And just who the...oh my...Central Self?"

I nodded blankly. She fainted. I caught her in my arms as I heard another voice emanate from the bathroom. "Oh, Femme dear. What's taking so long?"

Femme? I remember hearing that name before. So this is what she looks like. Most certainly attractive. With that long, brunette hair flowing down her back and the beautiful face framed by light hazel eyes was a stunning combination. The pert little nose and the full lips completed the ensemble. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman I ever met.

Sure, it was a short list, but it still had some top contenders.

Another woman exited, wearing something similar to Femme, who was still in my arms. However, her rubber bodysuit covered even less, if that were possible. Maybe Basket wasn't the one who dressed Femme up after all. She noticed Femme's position, and looked on disapprovingly. She turned her glance towards me. "You're Central Self, I take it?"

Stuttering, I replied, "Uhh, yeah. And you are-"

"Felicity. Since you're Central Self, I would just like to inform you that you may do to Femme what you like. She's mine for the next week due to a bet she lost, so don't worry about what she wants. After all, she's just a harmless little girl anyway."

Felicity, Felicity...I remember hearing Felicity's name mentioned by the two morons that I chatted with regularly. Now I'm really starting to get confused. "What do you mean?"

Felicity nodded towards the limp body that I had set on the floor a moment ago. "Well, she's quite a submissive persona. Concerned with feminine modesty and all that. Really a poor example of the stereotypical woman, at least through the eyes of the chauvinistic male. She's quite weak willed, as well. She practically begged to be my little toy when I stole her lipstick and demanded payment. So, feel free to use her whenever you want." When Felicity spoke, much of her speech came out more like a purr, rolling the Rs and her body disposition taking quite suggestive poses. It was quite obvious what aspect of personality she represented.

"Could I have her back, please?" She nodded towards Femme, who was groggily awakening.

I wasn't really in a state to argue, being much too confused for rational thought. "Huh? Oh yeah, sure." I brought Femme up to a standing position as she regained her senses. Taking her hand, Felicity quickly led the muddled young woman back into the bathroom.

Regulator stood up, dusting off his uniform. "Well laddie, ye met everyone except Mist and Overseer, but ye can see them later. It's time ta send ye back now. Have fun."

I blinked and found myself back in my settlement.