A small shiver ran down my back as a shadow seemed to creep past me. My reflexes kicked in instantly. Judging the approximate distance of where the individual that cast the shadow had to be, I quickly reached out and grabbed something rather soft. It felt much like Femme when I accidentally grabbed her breasts.

That meantI managed to fondle another woman. Thats the second time in one visit that I pulled off something that obtrusive. How did I manage to keep doing this?

I found myself on my rump, a resounding slap the cause of it all. I looked up and noticed Stealth. Contrary to what I recall from my last visit, she was outfitted in a black, form-fitting bodysuit. Obviously, the purpose was to minimize any kind of sound due to loose clothing. When I asked her why she had changed her clothing she shrugged. She didnt reply to me orally; as was her preference, she used sign language. Less sound. ~I felt like a change. Now, dont change the subject! You grabbed me!~

After an explanation as to my reason for being so quick to act on reflex, the masked woman led me over to the war room table, where many of my personas were hunched over a three dimensional Holographic Imaging System, or HIS. The HIS was powered by a nearby Holographic Energy Relay System, or HERS. Naturally, the HERS supplied energy to the HIS via electrical stimulation. This is the inner sanctum of my mind, after all. Very little beyond bio-electrical current would be a viable energy source here.

The image that was displayed itself was of a city. Large in size, small in stature. The buildings were ill-kept, the only system of roads or transportation infrastructure was nothing more than mud roads. Most of the buildings appeared undamaged due to artillery or any similar Iron Age equivalent. However, the structures, while wholly intact, frayed at the edges due to disrepair.

Another HIS nearby looked like a compound. The building itself was composed of two main sections: the relatively blank and unfilled upper section, while the lower was a labyrinth of hallways and other passages. Each room was surreptitiously labeled with their apparent function.

Soldier, who had returned to the table after greeting me, answered my unspoken question. "These are the best we could get with such few details. You were blacking out from time to time, but Sentry here was able to get a fairly decent view of the city were in now. This is Copenhagen, the capital city of Denmark."

Turning to Sentry, I stared blankly, mutely requesting an explanation. The binoculars bounced off his chest with each breath. "I don't need you to be conscious to utilize your senses. Im continually hooked up to all six of them. For example, I can tell you that your body is currently on a bed somewhere, most likely here."

He paused and pointed at a portion of HIS that read Sick Bay. "I can also tell you that were being tended to by a rather attractive woman who is very hygienic. Shes wearing a light perfume of herbs, which leads me to believe that shes a cleric. Its a good thing that your eyes are closed now or Basket would go haywire. Presently, I can determine with reasonable accuracy that shes bending over you."

I closed my eyes, bent my head, and rubbed the bridge of my nose as I tried not to think about the trouble that Basket would cause, given the opportunity. However, I tried to remain on subject. "The Paladins certainly didnt seem to mind beating me to within a few nanometers of my life earlier. Why would they bother trying to rebuild my body? Why stick me in a sick bay?"

My Paladin persona raised his head. The helmet he wore gave no indication of his facial expression, but his body language suggested that no offense was taken. He knew that when I mentioned his namesake in this context, I was referring to the ones that attacked me earlier without provocation. "From what Sentry has determined, youre to be brought before the Archbishop. I doubt he receives guests that happen to be bleeding in over forty different places."

"That was only my assumption: Whispers in the hallway are not sufficient proof to come to that conclusion," Sentry hastily added.

Shrugging, I replied, "I suppose not. However, we must prepare for the worst case scenario, seeing as that will most likely occur."

"Especially given yer luck with anything dependent on things goin' accordin' ta plan, laddie."

"Very funny, Regulator. Anyway, if you can further analyze these passages, try and find me a way out of here. I dont plan on staying long. Clear?"

I only saw a few quick salutes before I was pulled back into the realm of the conscious. As usual, there was a slight disorientation as my focus shifted. My left eye snapped open. When I ordered its counterpart to do likewise, my right eye failed to respond. Mutinous organ. On the other claw, perhaps it was simply swollen shut from the continued beatings. Then again, it couldve easily been from the stones thrown at me or quite possibly the continual tossing around of my person in this complex. I felt too exhausted and sore to consider each of the possible causes in depth. As I began to catalog all of the painful spots, I slowly noticed my vision focus back so that I could distinctly make out shapes.

The first one I noticed was a white blur that kept moving. I began to make out the familiar shape of a human. This was most likely the cleric that Sentry told me of earlier. She must have noticed my return to the world of the conscious, because she flashed me a quick smile before returning to changing the bandages that crisscrossed my body. To do this, however, I had to remain without garments.

Wait a minute...I was nude, and alone with a woman...Basket!

If you do anything to my internal body hormones, I'm going to do very, very bad things to you.

No!!! If th' laddie says that ye canna do anythin, then ye stay still for once! This could get us in a whole heap o' trouble, so sit still an' shut up!

Basket, for once, be serious.

As long as I have a life, I don't mind having the fun taken out of it.

There are more important things in life than ta have fun, Basket. Keepin' order, fer one.

"How do you feel?" The woman was looking at my face, trying to read my expression. I tried to answer, only to have her hand placed over my lips. I flinched, half-expecting a knife to come out of nowhere and slit my face. After all, the only real contact I've had with anyone outside of my personas was with the soldiers from before.

After a few attempts at speech that made me sound as if I had swallowed a few dozen razor blades, she chuckled lightly and signaled me to stop. "Sorry about that. Your throat still hasnt healed. Just nod." I quickly complied with her suggestion as best I could. As she lightly replaced the bandage and herbs to a rather large scar across my chest, she began to talk.

"Im Cleric Sheena El-Alfy, the first ever female cleric. Im pleased to meet you." Her smile was warm and so were her hands as they smoothly ran over my rough, callused skin. Every time they touched my bandaged body, my reflexes caused me to recoil slightly. Soon after I regained the ability to speak, I explained everything that had been my life up until now. I needed to talk to someone that wasnt along for the ride, and this was the only person who had shown me anything approaching compassion. Before I did so, however, I made her promise not to tell her superiors about my origins. There was no way that I could take the risk that all clerics were as kind and caring as Cleric El-Alfy. She listened intently and with patience, a rarity on this world. As she listened to my story, I could tell that she truly did care about me, as her shock at the points in my life where I had been assaulted by Brutes, Overseer, and the Paladins, registered as atrocities on her lovely face.

The way her beautiful voice seemed to drift over me, and her lovely face glowed with such concern-

Basket, ye scum! Stop putting thoughts into the laddie's head!

What? Basket-

I wouldn't be surprised if the next thing out of you is something along the lines of asking me to ask Sheena if there's any alcohol around.

I groaned, not realizing that I had done so audibly and quite loudly at that. Sheena, as she preferred that I call her, walked over from her desk across the room. "Is something wrong, Hybrid?"

Hybrid. It was the only name that I could think of that wasnt a straight-up lie or a serial number, and I couldn't lie to Sheena. She had given me so much that fibbing was almost amoral. Central wouldn't make any sense due to Sheena being an actual human being and not just a personality.

Hey, ye don't have ta be so harsh. We're not just personas, ye know.

Sorry, Regulator. Anyway, Hybrid seemed an apt choice. I know that Overseer called me that, but with Sheena, it lacked the rancor that the torturer of my life had infused into it. There was almost a note of envy in every time she spoke my "name", though I couldn't tell if there was or why there would be one.

"You're in one of your thinking moods again."

That brought me back to the present. "What do you mean?"

She again flashed me that lovely smile of hers. How I loved that smile. "You know what I mean. Whenever you stare off into the Heavens like that, youre incredibly hard to talk to. So, what were you groaning about now? It wouldnt happen to be one of those dreams that Basket keeps putting into you, is it?"

I smiled back. She believed every detail of my story. I still cannot believe how she could just casually accept it on Faith alone. It didn't take an ion physicist to realize that I had led a most unusual life. I doubt that every individual led as colorful a life as I. The fact that Sheena took everything I said as the truth led me to like the young cleric, even if she was in the same organization as those who forced me here in the first place.

I felt a light bop on my head. "You're thinking too much again. Do you mind listening to me for more then five seconds?"

Shrugging, I replied, "Sorry about that. No, this wasnt a Basket-induced wet dream. This was due to Basketswell, his taste for young, attractive females. Considering that Ive been immobile for the past few weeks, hes been doing nothing but rant about how as soon as I recover, he'd like to take control and take you out on a date, maybe get you back to his place...even though he doesn't have a place here. In other words, he wants to fu...fu...make whoopie, after first using his charm to get you in the mood as he calls it."

Sheena slapped me. "Basket, you pervert!"

I rubbed my cheek. It was strange; a short time ago, I could take a Brute fist into my face with nothing more then a blink and getting slapped by Sheena felt like a fusion bomb just exploded on my face. I wonder how she did that. "What did you slap me for?"

"I can't slap Basket, so you're the next best thing. I also meant that slap for you because you swore, and the Lord frowns upon blasphemy."

"B-but I didnt swear," I stammered.

"You were about to, and you were thinking it. That's close enough. Also, I don't want to disappoint Basket, but I'm already taken."

That froze me. "W-what did you say?"

Sheena leaned closer. "Look, I really shouldnt say this, but youve been honest with me, and our Lord and Savior rewards honesty. A prisoner and I are in love. I know the Archbishop frowns on it and that its punishable by death, but I just cant control myself around him. Every time I see him, I nearly lose control."

Could she mean me? I realize that Im not exactly attractive or fully human, but I had grownpotent feelings toward the Cleric for the short time that I had known her. "Who do you mean, Sheena?" Could she really mean me?

"His name is Crono Blackwood."

Something in my chest fell. I exhaled deeply, crestfallen.

Sheena continued, not noticing my despair. "I arranged it so that if you survive your meeting with the Archbishop, youll be put into his cell. If that happens, I need you to give him this."

She handed me an unmarked scroll. I took it mutely, unable to refuse anything from her. Obviously, she couldnt have her name anywhere on it; if this was found, she would be killed for sure. I slowly nodded my head. She gave me a hug. "Oh thank you, Hybrid! You don't know how long I've been waiting just to talk to him. Im so grateful!"

But not grateful enough to have those same kinds of feelings for me, I lamented. Such was the way of my life; I was gifted with a treasure beyond belief, only to have it snatched away. I was endowed with an entire planet, only to have it stolen away by Overseers impatience. Now, I had a chance with a beautiful, intelligent, human female and shes already taken by another. I truly hoped that I never would have to experience this sense of loss again.

I placed the scroll in my pocket and stood up, still a little wobbly. It had been weeks since I was first brought here, and I had healed quickly despite my broken health. Two guards entered the room, both heavily armed with large spears and shields. A third man, dressed in a tunic and pants, came over and replaced the chains on my wrists, ankles, and neck. I put up no resistance; I had recovered almost no muscular strength and the guards had blessed weaponry. The way I could tell that the weaponry was blessed was due to the light glow that emanated from the weaponry.

I reluctantly followed my captors, glancing one more time back at Sheena, who only glimpsed back at me with a look of depression upon her attractive features. As I was being led through the corridors, Basket made himself known.

Whatever do you mean, Basket?

Basket...Regulator?

Destroy that viewscreen. If Basket thinks up something like that again, you have my permission to do very bad things to him.

Really, kiddo?

Yes, but only after Basket builds another viewscreen like that, should the situation arise.

Amazing that this nincompoop actually doesn't like two lasses going at it.

Methinks the lad doth protest too much...

Basket, Regulator, I'm really not in the mood for your little games. I'm happy for Sheena; after all, she's got a human companion. It was my fault for ever believing that a freak like me could ever deserve someone like her.

Since it became painfully obvious, Regulator. Think about it; I'm a half-human, half-something hybrid with twenty-five separate personalities in my mind, two of which bicker constantly! I have blood that can burn through triple-strength orianniel alloy! That's just for starters.

Save your speeches for the brochures, Basket. After what Overseer did to me, I'm hardly perfect in either form or substance.

And just how did you know that Overseer went against orders? How do we know that he wasn't just doing his job?

Do you have any reason whatsoever to believe that Overseer was supposed to get us killed? Maybe the Designers thought that I was being too rebellious. Have you ever considered that?

Then buzz off. I don't have time for this.

The four of us had finally arrived at the Archbishop's chambers. It was an elaborate room, decorated with gold, silver, and a beautifully crafted throne. On the throne sat a man whom I could only assume to be the Archbishop himself. There were many others dressed in fine garments, but I focused solely on the figure on the throne.

He was shorter than I was, only about 2.1 meters in height. However, his round figure made my slim body appear much smaller then his. I assumed that since there were so many bureaucrats to do his work for him, he had no need to do any kind of exercise. Due to the nonexistent knowledge of anything concerning nutrition or exercise, I could only assume he didnt mind being fat, nor did he equate that with lack of healthy food or physical exertion. It was obvious that there was a rather visible limp, centered at his kneecap. His robes, while partially hiding the ailment, did not fully conceal the problem. Currently, he was trying to flirt with several women of the court at the same time. He was also failing terribly, if their reactions of disgust were anything to gauge by.

The two guards pushed me forward, forcing me to my knees. One of them rapped the butt of his spear on the floor, causing everyone who had not previously noticed me to pay attention.

The guard called out, "All hail the Archbishop Bjørn Havgaard Steffensen!"

The obese Fundamentalist stood, waving a pudgy hand in the air. He walked straight towards me, grasping me by the neck collar and pulling me up so we were eye to eye. He spoke in my face, spraying me with saliva. His breath smelled of alcohol and a few other substances that I couldnt identify. "So this is that thing you found two months ago on the Fields of Judgement, Paladin Griffin?"

Turning quickly while tracing the voice, I saw my hated foe in leather garments. He smirked at my predicament. His eyes were full of lust. Approaching me, he ran his scarred hand over my head affectionately. The spear points prodded me menacingly, should I resist. "Yes, Archbishop. It put up no fight at all. In fact, that freak of nature tried to run from us as soon as we glanced upon it."

The archbishop eyed me untrustingly. "Are you sure that this isnt simply the other one with claws that arrived earlier, Griffin? The two of you were quite close, as I recall. Not only did you live together, but the two of you fought together against me when I sought to reform this country."

Griffin shook his head, causing his unkempt shoulder-length dirtied hair to swing violently. His voice made it appear as if Steffensen had insulted his pride. "Nasir was an angel, Archbishop. He had been brought to us by the holiest of beings, the Lord Himself. My dear companion had pearl-white claws and orange eyes that shone like the light of our Holy Father. By a prayer given to me by my dear Nasir, I can summon him to wage war on the unbelieving scum of any non-Imperial in the universe!"

A messenger interrupted Griffins rant about this Nasir, who was apparently someone that looked like me, claws and all. Using my peripheral vision, I could make out Archbishop Bjørn hand Paladin Griffin a scroll. The warrior opened it, paused for a few moments, closed it, and returned it to the Archbishop.

"If I may inquire, what does the message say?"

The Archbishop paused, then began to laugh. "I forgot that neither Paladins or Fanatics could read! How could I forget something like that? Its about the rebellion in northern Prussia. His Holiness wants us to send a contingent of Fanatics and another of Paladins to crush this attack on the Vaticans holdings there."

I only heard the first parts of the Archbishops conversation. Griffin couldnt read? Most of the military was illiterate? An illiterate dolt defeated me? I growled at the humiliation. Both men noticed this.

Griffin sneered at me. Taking my chin in his hands, he brought my face close to his. "What's the matter, you little monstrosity? You should be grateful that I saved your pathetic life, after all."

I refused to accept this. No uneducated moron was going to talk down to me. Summoning up a berserk strength, I leaped at my captor. He must not have been expecting this, because I was able to knock him down and hit him twice before his mailed hand wrapped around my neck and squeezed. He mumbled a few words calmly.

Incredible lances of fire consumed me. This was the worst pain, the worst suffering that I had been subjected to in my entire existence. I felt more burning then the first time acid rain splashed upon me all that time ago. I experienced more anguish then when Overseer abandoned me here. I encountered more pain then when Griffins swords flashed down upon me months ago.

I must have screamed for hours, because when I could finally regained control of my body, I could feel the pain slowly, slowly ebb away. Once more, I blacked out, and my venue had changed yet again. I was chained to a wall with a few feet of slack. Opening my eyes, I noticed that I was moved to a dark cell, presumably beneath the palace.

As I tried to raise my hands to steady my head, I felt the manacles around my wrists that had been placed upon me ever since being captured. Even though there was little light in this prison, I could follow the chains attached to my bindings to the wall, where another iron ring locked the shackles into place. I had a reasonable amount of slack, so I could move about the cell a bit.

"Forget about breaking out of here. The chains are far too thick."

My head snapped up at hearing the voice. Attached to the far wall by fetters similar to mine, another man sat, watching me. He was well-muscled and looked as if he was a laborer. He had bright, golden eyes that glowed and showed much intelligence in the dim light of the cell. He was quite broad-shouldered, but he was much thinner than what wouldve been healthy. I assumed this only by what I could guess as to his height. My cellmate also looked malnourished and had large bags under his eyes. However, there was a weak smile playing on the edges of his mouth at the sight of some company. He extended his hand towards me as far as the manacles allowed.

"My name's Crono Blackwood. You and I are going to be cellmates for a while."

I smiled as my claw received his hand. His eyes widened a bit, but he didnt seem to mind as much as my captors did, and hand met claw warmly. "So you're the one that Sheena is in love with."

Cronos eyes enlarged even further at the sound of the clerics name. "You know Sheena? But how?"

I reached into my pocket and felt around. Retrieving the scroll that she had given to me before I met the Archbishop, I handed it to Crono. It was certainly amazing that it had survived intact, as I was most likely dragged here none too gently. He received it with a puzzled look before he unrolled it and began to read. His smile began to broaden as he continued to delve deeper into the letter. After he had finished reading it, he tore it up into small pieces and swallowed the scroll. I raised my eyebrow.

"Just to make sure that no one else sees it. According to what Sheena says, you do not have a name. However, she called you Hybrid, for obvious reasons. Do you mind if I do the same?"

I shook my head and leaned back against the slime-covered wall. "Do you mind if I call you Crono?"

"Not at all."

I ran my hands through my hair. First priority was information. Regulator, Basket, and Sheena had told me all they knew about this place, but there were still gaps in my knowledge. "Good. What can you tell me about the Archbishop? Why is he so important?"

Crono mimicked my position, but brought one knee up and laced his hands around it. "Well, I do not know that much about him. Most of what I have heard is rumor. I do not know how much I could help you."

I made a irrelevant gesture with my hand. The chain attached to my wrist clinked. "Some knowledge is better then none. Please continue."

My cellmate tilted his head up towards the ceiling, gathering his information. "Hes not the real power in Denmark anymore. After he revolted- I will get to that part in a minute- Paladin Griffin was instilled with full authority privately. While Steffensen rules publicly, Griffin does in secret. Were currently in the capital city of Copenhagen, by the way. In his youth, it was thought that he was going to lead the next major rebellion against the Vatican. He was strong in both mind and body, and led Denmarks economy to a boom. It became one of the most powerful economies in the entire Imperium. The lower classes could almost afford to buy half a loaf of bread every two days!"

Eyes bulging, I asked, "That is considered a strong economy? I can't even imagine what the worst economy is like."

Crono continued, ignoring my interruption. "Denmark was beginning to reinvent itself. People were beginning to discover new things, in spite of the Vaticans protests. The common people were content, and the military had higher morale then any other nation-state, second only to the Vatican itself. City improvement projects began, and Denmark looked like it was going to take the lead in aummrenna-something. I do not know the term. Some archaic language for rebirth."

I interrupted, making sure that Crono stopped this time. "That doesn't at all sound like what Copenhagen was like when I first arrived here. Most of the ground outside the city looks like a war zone, and the city itself is in ruins."

My companion glared at me. "I am getting to that. If you just sit and be patient, I will tell you. About two years ago, the Vatican became jealous of Denmark's progress. Leading the royal house guards of the Vatican itself, the Pope went on a massive military campaign, decimating nearly every Danish city. Bjørn surrendered after the Pope threatened to excommunicate his whole nation-state."

Feeling compelled to interject, I did so. "Excommunicate?"

"Would you stop interrupting me? A man cannot get a decent sentence through with constant interruptions."

"My apologies. Do continue."

"You try and explain something to a person, and he cant wait five seconds before sticking his big mouth in the works."

"I get the point, Crono," I said dryly.

He continued on, obviously lost in his own rant. "After all, I'm just trying to be a nice guy, and-"

"Crono!"

Pausing, he bent his head to one side in a puzzled manner. "What?"

"Do continue."

"Oh. Excommunicating is what the Pope does when someone pisses him off. According to the Vatican, the Pope has the power to kick anyone out of Heaven and keep them out for eternity, damning them to Hell."

My eyes bulged. "I thought you said only God had the power to do that."

"I don't pretend to understand what goes through the Popes deranged mind. Anyway, back to my story. Before the Archbishop surrendered, there was a massive battle outside Copenhagen, led by Paladin Griffin. Steffensen took a massive wound in the knee that left him unable to fight, and he now walks with a permanent limp.

"After the Pope and his armies left, Bjørn tried to pick up the pieces of what was left of his country. The damage was done, however. The once booming economy was now in shambles, and the cities were in ruin. Bjørn couldnt fight, and he's spent most of his time on the throne, reliving the days of Danish glory over and over again. His personality has degraded as much of his country has, I believe. Of course, Griffin running the country hasnt exactly done wonders for it either."

Before I got the chance to ask my next question, Crono said, "But enough chatter. Are you reasonably fit?"

Puzzled, I nodded. "Sheena was kind enough to smuggle some food for me in between guard shifts."

Crono's golden eyes grew bright with delight. His smile grew to reach from ear to ear. "What do you say to a little jailbreak?"

I chuckled and played along. "Why didn't I think of that? We're only in a military facility guarded by dozens, if not hundreds, of blessed warriors. Not to mention that this palace is probably built like a maze to keep people in, and us with no map with the quick routes out. Lets not forget that we're both chained to opposite walls and locked behind six-centimeter-thick iron. I don't know why I didnt think that breaking out would be so easy."

The two of us enjoyed a good laugh at the astronomical odds stacked against us. Crono's good nature won me over to being one of his lifetime friends immediately. Perhaps this existence wouldn't be so bad at all, with friends like my odd new companion.

My cellmates brow knitted. "You mean that you do not have a little button in your pocket conveniently labeled fix everything? And here I thought you inter-universal travelers were well equipped for your quests." Crono exploded into laughter, and I did the same. As if taking his question seriously, I reached into my pockets and felt around. My laughter stopped as I felt something etched into one of the inner linings of the pockets. Apparently, the Paladins that searched me for weapons didnt do a very thorough job.

My newfound friend noticed that I was no longer snickering. Wiping away a tear, he asked, "What is it, Hybrid? You do not actually have a button like that, do you?"

Grinning broadly in delight, I pulled the object out of my pocket. "Unfortunately, I don't. However, I have something that just might be our meal tickets for a while."

Blackwood, obviously perplexed, crawled forward as far as his chains would allow and studied the object in my claws. "Hmm. I am not so sure that is my favorite kind of cuisine, Hybrid. Do you have something in the edible selection? I am mostly partial to food myself."

I found his ignorance forgivable, yet amusing. "Cute, Blackwood. I don't suggest that we eat this, but that we utilize one of the greatest survival tools that I ever developed. You see that sliver of sunlight coming in through the barred window?"

Glancing up at the high window covering, he nodded. "A grim reminder of how close we are to freedom, yet so very far away. If you think we can escape through there, forget it. We cannot cut through it, seeing as how it is too high up. Even if we could, there is no way that either of us could squeeze through it."

I shook my head. "The sunlight is going to be what provides us with food, my friend. Just as Sheena was generous to share some of her rations with me, I shall, in turn, share my bounty with the man she loves and my new friend."

"Now you have completely lost me. Are you saying that we eat the light of day?"

Chortling once more, I pressed a small button on the box and set it in the sunlight. "Now, I'm not sure how long this will take, so be patient. I've never had to use this in yellow sunlight before, so it will take longer than I'm used to. After all, yellow stars put out less energy than a blue star."

Sighing in resignation, Crono moved back towards the wall and sat against it. "My friend, you will have to explain all of this to me some day. I have no idea whatsoever what you mean."

A sound stopped my reply: Boots. Soldiers. Quickly, I snatched the small box out of the light and replaced it in my pocket. I had just enough time to resume my spot on the wall as three guards entered the small cell and unlatched our chains from the walls. One of them spoke up. "Both of you, heavy labor. Move!"

When I asked Crono what the guard meant by that, he merely motioned me to follow. I was led down a gradual decline into what looked like cavern, where there were many prisoners who were mining for rock. I asked Crono what they were digging for.

"Gold. The most highly prized barter item here in the Imperium. It is thought that gold is a gift from the Christian God. Personally, I find that tough to swallow. If that is so, I do not see why it is so hard to find in the first place. Youd think that the Gods would have made it easier to spot."

I was about to inquire as to what deity he believed in when another guard walked up and stuffed a pickaxe into my arms. It was quite heavy, but not as massive as I thought it would be. Speaking of which, I should've fallen apart by now due to exhaustion, yet I was nearly in the same state as when I had awoken in my cell. As my comrade and I began to work, I began to grill him for information again.

"Crono?"

"What is it, Hybrid?"

I stopped for a moment before asking. "What is the current gravitational acceleration of this planet?"

Crono ceased his labor. He turned to me with a puzzled expression on his face. "Speak plainly, friend. I did not understand a word you said."

I sighed. Before I came here, the only others that I talked to were my personas, and they knew most of what I did. If I am to survive here, it would be better to speak plainly, as Crono says. "How fast do objects fall?"

Crono rubbed his nose. "I do not know, but I do how we could find out. Every twelve hours or so, we are given a ten-minute rest break for food. I will be able to tell you then."

Now it was my turn to express puzzlement. Speaking of puzzlement, where have those two ruffians, Regulator and Basket, gone?