Prologue: Skylight, Hindsight, Highlights

The sun's soothing rays only serve to highlight the sting on this occasion, eyes flicking open to yet another unfamiliar ceiling. Not a ceiling, no an ornate skylight with golden frame that Brie stares out of with a pained groan as the feeling returns. Soreness kissing across her body, the woman realises she came out with more than just a couple bruises when she attempts to lift herself out of bed and winces at the burning in her hip stretching down her right leg. "Fuck... fuck... fuck!" The bedridden woman's mind races faster than a thoroughbred and yet the expletives are all that bubble to the surface and escape those cracked lips in need of balm. Noting that she isn't strapped down, Brie curses herself even more thoroughly and forces herself into action, sitting up as the chorus of fuck only becomes stronger, sharp intakes of breath filling the spaces between each repetition. Wracking her brain during its sluggish start up to remember exactly how she ended up in this penthouse shithole she now occupies, taking stock with scrutinous gaze at the framed posters on the wall and wanting to throw up into her mask, Brie painfully swings her legs over the side of the bed and squints at the bottle of medication sitting on the bedside table. 

Peering down with a grumble, Brie takes in the sight of aquamarine hospital patient gown and purses her lips at the knowledge she's been undressed while unconscious. Pride urges her onto feet that cannot hold her, not with her right leg in its current state, and so with unceremonious crash of her musclebound form Brie collapses onto the gaudy golden rug with another hearty "Fuck!" 

For a while she lays here, on her back, eyes scanning those posters again as she lets the animosity in her chest slowly build. While she may be in a hospital gown, Brie can see this is no ward, but instead what appears to be the personal suite of one Nicole Black. Only an egoist as far gone into the black hole of crushing indulgence would line their room with a timeline of their own accomplishments, highlights of a career she earned through force and manipulation. Of course, she had the power to do good regardless, but that could never be enough for a woman who wished to be the very sun itself or near enough equivalent. Equally hailed, and just as dangerous to stare into. 

Once again, Brie searches her recent memory to recall just how she landed in the bedroom of the enemy, a woman she's decided to be her least favourite out of all who still draw breath. That's right, there was a surgery... calloused fingers brush the back of her neck and she shudders at the memory of her inaugural flight. Flying was the easy part, combat was where the untrained pilot came up short, severely lacking in technique as that crimson smear overwhelmed her in no time at all. Try as she might even with assistance from that dryad she'd pleaded help from, Brie could not land a single scratch upon the Rook. As she found herself pushed back with well timed blow that had the building at her back break her fall so roughly, Brie recalls the way that reaching hand eclipsed her in shadow and how her eyes closed to brace for oncoming end. Crushing fingers made a wreck of her vessel and Brie was thrown from the leather seat like an insect being swatted away by a giant. Despite sustained injuries, she was alive, staring up at that hulking giant which lowered onto its knee and brought hand to its chest. And there she was, emerging from the craft with vainglorious smirk and metal plate covering the top half of her face, rust blonde hair blowing in the same gentle wind that soothed the cuts on Brie's face.

The woman she had come to save, covering her mouth with synthetic rubber hand and laughing at the ease of her latest victory, mocking her would-be saviour as Brie's vision began to darken at the corners. Brie understood then, that she was in way over her head, wondering if that scarlet soldier would put her out of her misery before internal bleeding did her the favour instead. 

Stitched up and sulking on the floor of Nova's penthouse, Brie brings a hand up to her face only to find it obstructed by a metal wire frame, turning to find the nearest mirror at eye level and giving a rather ironic growl in protest of the image that greets her. The steel muzzle is secured firm with leather harness, her dyed cherry hair cut much shorter into a blunt shape that robs her charm. Fingers dig into the straps at the back of her head and with a harsh yank, Brie removes the muzzle and launches it across the room with some catharsis. Huffing from exertion more mental than physical, Brie forces herself to stand in spite of the throbbing pain in her side, taking just one step with sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth before the door swings open and freezes the woman in her tracks.

"If you'd bothered to look to your right before causing a fuss, dear, you'd have seen I gave you a button to call for assistance with. You're going to pull your stitches out with all this unnecessary commotion, did somebody have a nightmare?" Nova, no, Commander Black steps into the room, her presence causing a chill to run down Brie's spine before the blood begins to boil. 

"What the hell is this? Where's Hope?" Taking another teething step, Brie gets used to shifting the weight onto one side and decides to show Nicole that the blonde does not intimidate her. It's not strictly true, of course, the older woman's stare as sharp as those daggers of hair that spill down beside it, one corner of her lips curling slowly in anticipation of Brie's next lesson in engaging with the enemy. Little wars can be just as satisfying as larger ones, or so thinks the twisted thespian who plays more roles than she'd care to count.

"Close by, repeating mantras to herself lest she forget her duty as a well serviced rifle. Even better at servicing those above her station, I'd say, having enjoyed that mouth a great deal over the last couple of weeks. I wonder how you've spent the time, girl. Stewing, I suppose? I do so enjoy that fire burning in your eyes, mark my words it'll only make you easier to twist into my good servant come the--"

"Christ alive woman, do you fall asleep to recordings of your own fucking voice?" With a groan, Brie pulls herself even closer until she stands only a foot away from the woman she'd try and kill with her bare hands if she were not aware of Nova's feats. "I don't care, about your taunts, your treatment... Envy said that if anything happens to me she'll make you pay... and I'm spent, see?" The brooding butch gestures to her battered self with bitter glee, a dullness in her eyes that cannot blink away the sight of the masked pilot who bested her so effortlessly. "I'm one stubborn bitch so do us both a favour and put me out of your misery before you come to regret keeping me around."

Nicole Black stares at the woman squaring up to her, pride yet staining the specimen she sees. Her head cocks to the side as indifferent eyes assess the other's resolve. "I wonder if you really mean it, or if you're just awarding yourself brownie points for saying such heroic things under the assumed safety net that I need, or even just want you for anything more than my own personal amusement. How can you be so sure, I wonder, that I won't just oblige the pathetic request and put you down like the dog you are, here and now?" Up close, Brie is given front row viewing of the performance before her, a stern face aged by time and strained by that overwhelming mass. Still, it's a beautiful face, albeit hauntingly so, a star once heralded as the best of all humanity coldly testing the sincerity of one far more human than she could ever hope to be. And both know that Nicole means to reduce those in her captivity until they, too, are fittingly subhuman.

"Do your worst, you insufferable hag." Letting the resentment boil over and get the better of her judgement, of survival instinct itself, Brie spits onto her captor's cheek and perfects her role with fierce glower. 

"If you insist, dear." It happens so fast, the sound of a clasp being pulled open as Nicole's arm slides pistol from holster, raising iron gripped in leather hold and pushing barrel into the bottom of Brie's chin. With gentle force, soft power, Nicole uses her custom Beretta to close that open jaw in front of her and hums in satisfaction of the prideful rebel before her now stunned into silence. "Your safety here is not so assured, I've back up methods of progressing this stage... so if I were you I'd be more careful with my words, hm?" 

In all her life, Brie has never quite understood the great motivator of fear, eyes slowly widening as the reality of her own mortality dawns along with the thought that she might've dug her own grave with such brash, impulsive words. "Ah..."

"Indeed. I love a good brat, watching them break, exposing the sheer fragility of the self beneath all those defensive layers. You're still just the scared, snot-nosed runt in that alley, pleading with your new empress to let you go. She ended up giving you something wonderful though didn't she, so who's to say I won't provide the same sense of euphoria in time?" As Nicole chuckles in satisfaction of Brie's submissive paralysis, the frozen butch wonders just how Nova could know details of that night. Leather thumb raises to wipe the spit from Commander Black's face and the self-ascribed handler allows her smugness to show a little more plainly. "Save your saliva Brie, you never know when your next meal is coming after all. In fact, I think your spit has much better uses, if you insist to waste that mouth of yours I'll repurpose it for my own convenience. I'll use it to polish my tools, my weapons, and not just the ones that breathe." Humming a lilting, haunting melody, Nicole strokes the barrel of her handgun up past Brie's jaw and rests it playfully on her prey's lower lip, gently sinking it down from the weight. "Open up, now~"

"S-Seriously?" With growing indignation still locked behind a cage of shock and pitiful self-preservation, Brie stares down at the gun pushing past her lips and reluctantly accepts it inside. Her heart pounds like a war drum, chest rising and falling heavily as perspiration settles against her forehead. Eyes widen as the barrel of a black 92FS sinks in further to violate her mouth, gently flattening Brie's tongue as the suddenly meek woman forgets her pride and shudders at the feeling of that cool ceramic finish. Cerakote coats her very thoughts, Brie feeling the blanket of subspace she's denied even in the presence of a monster such as Envy now seize her in tight leather grip, feeling truly disposable and knowing there's no certainty that she can predict the actions of this swirling black hole stood so smugly before her. 

"Finally, the real you. She's pretty, Brie, docile looks best on those who need to be brought to heel like this in order to see it. I'll admit I'm rather game for a challenge in the twilight of our days here in this iteration, as I'm sure you can imagine my new rifle put up a poor show of resistance. There's a misconception regarding my stare of submission that it has any real lasting effects, while it's true I can essentially fry your nervous system if I up the intensity too far I'm not really able to affect your mind with it in any permanent sense. I'm glad for it, truth be told, because that would be far too boring, cheap. I want to earn my domination of your mind, watch the way your morals slowly warp into the new shape I seek to twist them into. I look forward to it, girl, and so should you. Now, would you go ahead and kneel for me?" Nicole makes no attempt to hide the thrill she experiences in this moment, her own inhibition having been stripped by her long years of selfish servitude, erecting monuments to her own ego that now decorate the room in snapshot. Of all the angles Commander Black can take to break her subjects, perhaps the most disingenuous of all would be to flaunt her humanity over those slowly being milked of theirs. She's a black mirror of her own, reflecting destiny to all of those who find themselves before her. 

Brie shakes, weight still shifted onto one side and teeth slowly coming to clench beretta barrel, remnants of lingering resolve flickering in her eyes and reigniting pride. A part of her knows that all she has left is her height. The way she stands in front of the woman who'd seek to debase her, having closed the distance through wilful steps she'd be ashamed to forget the purpose of so soon, so easily. She will not kneel. Even if it costs the woman her life, she now understands this to be a life made forfeit several bad decisions before this moment, so refuses to make yet another poor judgement call and immolate what little self respect is left. She will not kneel. Brie's jaw clenches tight and she feels the fire behind her eyes finally break through, Nicole's head tilting subtly in response to such indignant glare at this late stage. Understanding well that these may be her final moments should this former hero not be bluffing, Brie feels a calmness wash over her and shield her last thoughts from the ugly regret that squeezes the pumper in her chest, lips curling as though she's done anything at all worth smiling about. Still, in the face of this dying star, Brie can be content that she didn't falter at the last hurdle even if she knocked down so many along the way. That's right. This is her war. She. Will. Not.

"Kneel."

A world of gold takes her and before she can regain her bearings, overcome that dizzy spell from the brief flash of sublimating vision, two knees fall upon the rug below and make a pretty pair. Brie whines out from the strain against her leg and the muffled noise reminds her of the gun yet filling her mouth, Nicole's arm having followed her so smoothly that it almost didn't occur. Eyes flutter and stare up at Nicole with dying confidence, Brie having been commanded to her knees by eyes and voice she could not contest when they came to test her with the lightest curveball. Kneeling down at Commander Black's feet, those well ridden boots as void of colour as the rest of her save for blonde knives framing self-assured simper, Brie feels a floaty sensation start at the back of her head. 

"Let the loss settle in, Brie, get yourself acquainted with this feeling. By the end of this week it'll be a very familiar one, your constant companion, I think even you will be surprised just how far you can fall from these current values you hold. Know that, as hard as it may be to believe me, I've chosen to do this for good reason. The world is bigger than yourself, and I intend to illustrate through meticulous training regimen just how small you are." Firm leather grip on the handgun, Nicole pushes it further still, tilting Brie's head up and becoming intoxicated by that faltering glare that slowly softens until Brie can no longer maintain a pretence of struggle. "You're not polishing it, dear, just letting a mess of wasted drool spill down your chin and ruin that nice gown I dressed you into. Suck."

Once again, Brie loses herself and allows the emotion to show too raw, eyes widening in just he manner Nicole was hoping for them to. Knowing that she plays into the woman's hand makes the cocky former hero turned failed pilot avert her gaze, staring off to the side at posters that make her feel sick. That Nicole claims to be the one who dressed her only spells another violation, Brie hating above all else that aching heat between her legs which suggests some part of her has the fucking gall to get worked up over this. Somehow the prideful sentiment of 'I will not suck' does not find as much purchase in the kneeling woman's mind as it would have if she were still on her feet, Brie letting her eyes slowly close as she braces herself for the humiliation that will soon take sledgehammer to her ego. After a brief hesitation, a groan against the barrel that Nicole can't help but give that filthy, throaty chuckle to in response, Brie softly fellates the handgun. 

"So you can be a good girl after all." The cruel words soak into Brie's tattered pride like lighter fluid against a rag, pistol barrel threatening to ignite it. Hair falls before her face as though attempting to hide her shame, Brie sinking into her role with shoulders slumping and eyes hooding open. So simple an act, the entire exchange having only been five or so minutes, and she's an entirely different creature altogether. Nicole demonstrates just how easily people can adapt, even stubborn beasts such as Brie are not so inflexible. Once her point is made, wet barrel slides out from between submissive lips and Brie swallows drily the phantom load she's been fed. 

Holstering her weapon with a satisfied hum, Nova slips that sleek leather hand under Brie's chin and holds the woman's head up proud. Brie swallows again and considers another spit to show she can't be broken, instead just averting her gaze to peer down at the drool which escaped her lips while she was forced to salivate. Subspace is not always such a willing state but the woman also knows not to be so passive in this moment, pulling away from Nicole's grip and surprised to find that gloved hand does not follow. Sitting back on her calves, Brie gives her tormentor a weak glower before wincing at the pain in her side.

"You've not pulled your stitches, I hope? Hop up onto the bed and I'll check to make sure, wouldn't want you escaping into the realms of death to get away from me hm? I trust you can get onto the bed yourself or... do you need help with that, Brie?" The smugness, the power, is enough to have Brie shaking the cobwebs in her head from that domination play that had her slipping. Snarling like the beasts she's often likened to, Brie stubbornly pushes up onto her feet and plants herself onto the bed, only then realising she had been goaded into obeying with a rather playbook manipulation tactic. Still, she should probably do as she's told for now, especially if her health is on the line. Brie knows all too well that Nova could have her bedridden if it better suits her designs or simply conveniences her more. Deciding to bide time and look for opportunity, Brie sits and glances at the bottle of pills she had noticed on the bedside table when first she awoke. Nova's creaking black digits curl around the bottle and twist the lid, tipping a single tablet into her palm with a stark contrast of white on black. 

"Shit, you're drugging me right off the bat? Take a girl out for dinner first won't you?" Wishing that her voice were not so shaken, Brie grimaces at just how fragile she feels this morning and stares up at Nicole black who seems amused by the quiver of bravado. 

"Don't be so dramatic, dear. You need your rest and recovery today, the drugging regimen will begin tomorrow. These are just painkillers, though strong enough to effectively put you out for a while I won't lie to you." Lowering her weight onto the bed beside her captive, so close that their sides meld into one and Brie shudders in disgust at the contact, Nicole raises her palm like a serving platter being presented to a very hungry butch. Except this isn't food, and Brie feels she's lost her appetite. Noticing that her new pet isn't yet one to play ball, Commander Black gives a performative tut of disapproval before plucking the medicine from palm and using the now empty hand to gently squeeze Brie's cheeks. Not wanting to cooperate but still fearing the consequence of more active resistance, Brie pouts as best she can with her face so distorted by those intrusive gloved fingers. With slow, graceful motion, Nicole lifts her pinching fingers and drops the medicine past Brie's rough lips, her hand suddenly closing around the woman's mouth and pinching her nose shut. "Swallow, don't be stubborn." 

There's a wilting play of struggle before Brie finds herself doing as she's told, gasping for air once the hand removes itself as a heaviness overtakes her almost immediately. Nicole stands and makes for the door, Brie feeling far too weighed down to follow her or even escape the confines of this bed. Just as Commander Black had suggested, Brie will be getting her rest and recovery today, her distant dreams wandering to the promise of a drugging regimen come next morning.

Perhaps Envy will take pity on the poor rogue and come after her in earnest... or maybe this is simply her lot.

Chapter One: Seven Seconds in the Sun

The sun's soothing ways creep in through overhead skylight to gently nudge the sleeping girl awake, Brie half expecting to find restraints tying her down onto the bed this morning as she sits up and brings a hand to her face. No muzzle this time, maybe they gave up on that. With a stretch accompanied by groan, Brie considers the fact she must have slept almost an entire day and finds that 'well rested' feeling woefully misplaced. A yawn fills the empty penthouse and Brie wonders where Nicole has been laying her head given this appears to be her room. Either the narcissistic bitch has more than one gallery to her own achievements to wank to before head hits pillow, or she's been taking a leaf from her estranged spouse's book. Brie cannot imagine there being any in-between.

Sparing no time at all as she considers the gift that is isolation in a place designed to make her form unhealthy dependencies on that firm treatment from yesterday, Brie scans the room for cameras and then searches her own body for any kind of attached devices. Lifting up her gown, Brie inspects the bandages stretching down her right side and remembers who gave her the injury in the first place. Same damn girl she came to save, though Brie takes pause to remind herself the rifle isn't to blame for the one who pulls its trigger. Hope's as much a victim of Nicole's mental manipulation as Brie will be if she's not proactive about getting out of here in one piece. With brooding expression that lives up to her nickname rather well, the woman sits and thinks her situation through. Yesterday, Nicole had appeared in the room very soon after Brie had woken up, presenting several possibilities. Either it's a coincidence and she was already paying visit, they're tracking Brie through cameras or something reading her vitals, or maybe she just made a little too much noise launching that muzzle at the wall in her frustration. Hoping it's the latter while dreading there being a chip beneath her skin somewhere she hasn't the constitution to claw out, Brie pulls up onto her legs, once again shifting the weight onto her left side and glancing at the bottle of pills beside her. Given how quickly they knocked her out, the captive set upon escaping this fine morning accepts that she won't be able to rely on these painkillers should she strain herself too far. 

"I'll show you what a good girl I really am, Nova..." The woman grumbles as she makes for the door, deciding to simply test the handle even if she knows they can't have made it so easy for her to leave after being rather candid about her captivity. To no real surprise, then, Brie finds the door to her room locked. Head whips back to inspect the window on the opposite wall and then, perhaps a tad ambitiously, the skylight above. Deciding it best to focus on the window for now, figuring it isn't likely to be barred or particularly reinforced given this is Nova's personal room, Brie limps over to the other side of the room and slams her hands onto the sill. Last time she stood like this she was met with a much busier view, though this one might be nicer in a way. Waterfront greets her hungry gaze, Brie resenting how still that blue expanse can be during her own personal crisis. No grate or bars, but a dead drop that does not pose great odds of survival. Brie considers taking the risk anyway before laughing at the major flaw in such a plan even if she could nail the dive intact: Brie can't swim. 

As is natural, the next step the hothead considers is simply breaking the door down with what brute strength she can muster and making a break for it. Even in this weakened state she's still possessed of inhuman strength and would do well to remind herself of that, eyeing up the door with intent to break into a sudden charge and knock it from those hinges before Nicole Black can get one more second of screentime in her story. A paralytic hesitation grips the woman who had been readying her broad shoulder for the decisive charge, Brie remembering the feeling of cold, indifferent metal filling her mouth with Nicole's finger firmly wrapped around the trigger. The pause is long enough that Brie avoids charging directly into the nurse who begins to unlock the door from the other side, the overworked medical staffer yawning into the unnecessary clipboard hoisted under her arm as she slowly turns the handle. At first, Brie's vision blurs as she considers that it could be Nova herself, that the woman is set on being Brie's only social interaction for however long it takes for that stubborn psyche to finally snap... then the realisation dawns that this might be her best, if not her only chance of getting out of this place with her brain and body moderately intact. What the hell was she even thinking stealing that thing from the hangar thinking she had any competency in piloting it after only a week of training? Brie begins to understand the futility of martyrdom when there are people left to save, the reckless and selfish nature of such a suicide mission bringing shame in deep red scar against her cheeks. 

A slow creak and the door begins to open, Brie calmly stepping closer until her target is in reach. The nurse gasps as painfully tight hand grips her wrist and yanks her into the room, her clipboard sailing down onto the floor below while she collapses into Brie's chest. Brie curses her luck, or in this case her look, that she would appear so sexless in this patient's gown while a pretty woman now presses against it. Deciding to shake the sleaze from her mind and ignore just how much her body yearns for that feeling she's been without for so long, Brie quickly covers the nurse's soft face with rough hand, preventing her from calling out and giving them away so soon. Keeping the dusty blonde 30 something held with that hand sealing her mouth shut, Brie uses the other to search her pockets and persona rather intrusively for anything she might use to alert others to the sudden hostage dynamic. Discovering nothing noteworthy save for a rich candy in clear wrapper sitting forgotten in deep pocket, Brie sighs out in relief and allows her posture to relax ever so slightly.

"Okay listen, I'm not gonna hurt you if you do as I say and don't do anything stupid alright? Need to ask you a few questions, so when I remove this hand you're gonna be nice and quiet, aintcha?" Brie's heart pounds more than she'd care to admit, the nurse likely feeling it from how close she's kept. Clearly frightened but letting the rational side take over, Brie's hostage nods as calm as she's able to against that powerful hand. "Good... thanks." Understanding that she's doing a poor job at being as intimidating as possible, Brie laughs into the dead air between them and slides her hand free gently. "Nova... I mean ah, Commander Black, do you know where she is right now?" 

"Y-Yes, she's currently off base... training exercises." At the nurse's honest words, Brie sighs out again and feels tension leaving her body in droves. Without Nicole around her chances of actually pulling this off increase tenfold, Brie actually starting to feel excited at the prospect of escaping this hell before it has even begun in proper. 

"Good... good. Uhm, I'm gonna have to keep you around for a bit okay? Again, won't hurt you unless you uh... make me." The words are hard for her to get out, even if she should feel more indignation against anybody complicit in her captivity. "I need you to escort me to the hangar... actually, just outside if you can. Don't try and trick me, I'll know... just keep it plain and simple, lady, and I'll be out of your life soon enough." Brie knows better than to rely on those machines in the hangar, she wouldn't even be able to get someone else's started and it's hardly like she knows how to pilot a simple helicopter either. Even with pain in her leg, she decides to go it on foot. 

Too tongue-tied to respond with her words, the nurse nods erratically and Brie feels a sick sort of satisfaction at holding this power over someone, feel their fear, after the reversal of such a dynamic had shaken her so the morning before. With slow steps as they adjust to steady sync, Brie allows the nurse to lead her out of the penthouse suite and hopes that she never steps foot in it again. The good news, Brie, is that you won't. 

The pair walk in tandem, two sets of feet moving as a four legged beast that drags itself through familiar looking corridors. It is no great surprise to Brie, who had been expecting as much, but it's good to know they appear to be in the same base that she once attempted to break Hope out of. To say that Brie is tense and nervous is an understatement, the woman lightly perspiring from a worry that they may be stopped and from the dull pain stretching down her leg. Hope really did a number on her, thinks Brie with bitter smile she does well not to nurture into resentment, wondering if the brat really had to throw her so hard when the battle had already been decided. Nurse navigator turns another corner and Brie feels chills running down her back, understanding that she's in way over her head staging a breakout such as this, trembling hand gripping a hostage she'd never be able to bring herself to hurt even if it was her only means of escape. She begins to wonder if her guide, who has calmed down drastically since their first meeting, has begun to realise this too.  

"Hey uh... thanks for this. I dunno how much you know about what goes on here, maybe I'm just being optimistic but you seem nice... normal. It's kinda fucked up so I have to get out of here. You're uhm... you're a nurse right? Or a doctor maybe, sorry I've this stupid lingering assumption there... ahaha. You wanted to help people right? Save lives and shit..." Feeling her freedom drawing nearer with each heavy footfall of this fledgling beast, Brie's nerves cannot permit her to walk in silence any longer. Using conversation to keep herself calm, the woman chides herself internally for letting this slightly older lady's feminine scent assist in her tentative relaxation. Ever since she was a little boy, Brie had always harboured some kind of olfactory fixation and found herself fascinated with perfume in particular. She would steal bottles from her mother's room and later even met Tri through the interest, having been swayed to try a sample offered by the rookie hero working to make ends meet. For some reason it was attractive to the three made into one, that a 'decently attractive guy' would possess enough humility to let a bored girl at the mall spray feminine fragrance onto his wrist. 

Brie considers, grimly, that if she hadn't been so attracted to these pretty scents from such a young age, she would never have ended up here in the first place. What do they call that? The butterfly effect?  It can be said that if she had not developed such a fixation, Brie would still be nothing but a caterpillar. 

"I'm a nurse." The woman finally speaks up, no longer sounding so afraid. If it didn't comfort Brie so much to not feel like such a villain, she'd realise how risky it is to hold a hostage who does not fear you. "Though... I wasn't able to work for a long time, not until this facility reopened anyway. You've no idea how hard it was for people like us to get work at all, never mind a trained medical professional... before Mrs. Black gave me employment I was... I'd given up on ever setting foot in a medical facility again." The words finally give Brie pause, more specifically the tone they take on. That lack of fear slowly grows into indignation, a rebellious wind blowing past them in the hallway as the dusty blonde nurse suddenly stops in her tracks. 

"People like us?" Brie knows she should be more concerned over the woman suddenly stopping in her tracks, the front legs of four legged beast rearing to a halt, but curiosity has her in its clutches. 

"You really don't know anything, do you?" The woman feels emboldened now, her body trembling not with fear but furore. "I... I personally requested to be assigned to your room, wanted to meet a legend in the flesh." Brie's eyes widen and she can't help but scoff at the lofty title ascribed to her for reasons she cannot comprehend. "But you're just a shell of your former self... and soon, you'll be even less."

Realising that she needs to regain control over the situation quickly lest she end up having this hostage dynamic turned totally on its head and find herself at the mercy of emboldened nurse, Brie attempts to pull the woman close to her once again only to find needles suddenly piercing her palm with shooting pain that has her reeling back. First staring at the bloody pinpricks in her hand, Brie then casts panicked gaze upwards to the nurse now turning to face her, needle-thin spikes protruding from her body all over. The woman's no regular human either, Brie learns far too late, watching as more needles push out through the other's pores with a grimace at the ugly sight. 

"If... if I let you leave, I might lose this job... I don't want to let Commander Black down after all she's done for me!" Letting frenzied panic take hold, the woman fills the narrow corridor with her new, prickly form and takes a step towards Brie who backs away with matching gait. 

"I... fuck, lady! Whatever happened to do no harm?" Brie waves her bloodied hand in the empty space between them like an angry customer demanding a refund, letting bravado mask those mounting nerves that seize and stiffen. Freedom is so close, she can smell it, that breeze against her face from earlier was not only meant in metaphor. "Get out of my way you big fucking... hedgehog... or I'll show you just what a legend I still am." Letting those building nerves settle into steady rhythm, wrestling her beating heart back under control, Brie steels herself for a good brawl and attempts to recall her last scrap. That prick attempting to put a hole through her prey hardly counts, not when she caught him off guard and swept him off his feet in seconds. Then again, Brie finds that most of the fights in her life have only lasted a pitiful handful of seconds. Fights she can understand, anyway, not the sort of battles that are now fought out there in the strange new world she's landed in, nor the mental strife Nicole Black is wont to engage in. When she was much younger and unaware of her true strength, Brie had finally snapped and fought back against her bully in an alienating show of witless power that would see her isolated from her peers for the rest of her middle school education. By the time high school swung around, let alone college, she was far too used to being an outcast that she had herself convinced she preferred it that way. 

"I-I'm sorry Captain Williams, but you need to go back to your room. Just... trust in Commander Black, she's the dark star we're all riding on now, she'll know how to save us so just... stop!" The nurse becomes more outwardly violent as the altercation proceeds, Brie almost missing the strangeness in those words between trying to find an adequate pun about the Hippocratic oath being hypocritical in this case. 

"The fuck did you just call me?" Brie backs away as arms coated in sharp needles swing recklessly in her direction, beginning to wonder if this frenzied woman isn't mistaking her for somebody else entirely. After all, Brie proved rather definitively that she's no pilot and... Williams is Hope's surname, not hers. Another swing impacts the thin corridor wall and tears right through it, Brie feeling her disobedient heartrate spike again. "Guess... we can't talk it out huh?" The way this woman is speaking now she sounds too much like a fanatic to be reasoned with, Nicole taking that desperation in her heart and pooling it with tacky pre-rehearsed lines from her script. Nova's not a dark star, she's just a power tripping narcissist who seizes any opportunity she can get to be the most important person at any given time. 

Realising there's only so much corridor before she has to turn a corner and stubbornly viewing such an act as a form of defeat, Brie decides she needs to take charge soon and figure out an offensive that won't leave her with a fresh new coat of red paint. The thought brings her mind back to that crimson giant her Hope used to pummel her own grey shell so effortlessly, no matter how many different angles Brie attempted with her own limited combat capabilities, it was like Hope... or the weapon she's been reduced to, could see the attack coming from a mile away. In her week of training, Brie remembers hearing similar stories, legends really, of the one they call 'Cameo Moth'.

Shaken from her daydreaming by a sudden expulsion of those thin steel spikes, Brie quickly raises her arm to stop the needles sinking into her face, wincing in pain but using the momentum of this adrenaline to cease her retreat and find an opening to push through. Having noticed how thin the wall was earlier, Brie swiftly brings her fist to its flimsy surface and breaks right on through, tearing a large panel and smirking at the simplicity of her strategy. Needles hurt like shit, and these could have any manner of toxin coating the tips that Brie isn't yet aware of... but they're not particularly penetrative, just a thin panel like this is an effective shield or at least, this is Brie's hope. 

"Fair warning... since becoming one, I feel I've really gotten over that notion that I can't hit a woman. Prefer to hit on them but ah... you don't seem my type ahaha, prickly personality and all!" Brie winces at the emergence of the usual insufferable comedy routine that comes out when she's about to do something she knows she'll feel guilty for, despite her words she's still beholden to a few ghosts of sentiment from her younger years. She'd prefer to lay her hands on women in much gentler ways, though supposes that can get just as rough if the mood calls for it. Lifting the panel up and hoping it's at least thick enough to spare her deeper wounds, Brie leans forwards and charges at the nurse with the form of an American footballer going in for a tackle, broad shoulder leading the charge behind protective panel as Brie prays more for the other's safety than her own. It isn't like Brie has any gods she's still on good terms with to pray to, these days she favours prey to prayer. 

The tension is struck like a guillotine, one fell blow that spells decisive victory for the woman who breaks past the defensive line and stumbles at the finish, trying to regain her footing as she whips her head back to check on the woman she just bulldozed. The nurse is laid out flat on her back, a good portion of those naturally formed needles now covering Brie's makeshift shield from corner to corner. A decent amount pierced through but the punctures are only shallow, Brie sighing out with a mixture of relief and exhaustion as she realises she does not have the luxury here to go and check on the poor woman. With hope that the nurse isn't too badly injured, Brie scoffs at her own warped priorities and hastens her step towards the exit. As expected, after turning one more corner she finds herself face to face with glass doors that depict a mosaic of the outside world beyond them. The knowledge that Hope is still captive sinks into her like a knife but Brie has watched this scenario play out in fiction enough times to understand just how pointless it would be to think she can do anything about that now, she's more useful to Hope with her freedom and a sobering retrospective. That Brie was so recklessly eager to return here as soon as humanly possible, at the expense of her own odds of success, is as perplexing to the woman as the fact she knew the exit would be around this corner. It's no secret that she's missing memories, but Brie feels a deep discomfort as she wonders just how involved she was with all of this before they removed the time. 

Brie approaches the glass double-doors and steadies herself before them, knowing that with the commotion she just caused with her decommissioned dance partner it's only a matter of time before more people arrive, potentially armed this time. These doors aren't going to simply open for her, Brie glancing at the key card scanner and wishing she had gone back to check on the nurse after all if only to loot her pass. Lifting up her good leg and biting through the pain in her supporting right side, Brie brings her foot crashing down onto the middle of the doors where they lock together and feels a weight lift in her heart when she discovers she had enough strength to break them apart. As the busted doors fall open, Brie feels the entire building begin to shake and wonders if it was a direct result of her actions before finally stepping outside and lifting her head to find the culprits. Eyes squint against the morning sun before the rays are entirely eclipsed by two hulking masses of machinery, Brie watching them lower down in front of her as panic ripples her heart. Recognising the red one all too well, Brie can only assume the black to be fittingly piloted by Nicole. 

Whipping her head to that freedom so nearby, Brie can only gawk at the sight before her with sudden recognition that paralyses her more effectively than the warning shot that disintegrates the grass at her feet. With a heavy thud, the two crafts drop onto the ground at last and Brie is still staring, eyes twitching as she attempts to make sense of it all. These are buildings she recognises, that spire in the distance belongs to the church her mother once forced her to attend.

Exiting her 'Black Gala', Commander Black pulls up her gloves while approaching the dumbstruck captive she couldn't have hoped to find anywhere else. Following behind Nicole is her rifle, an indifference plastered over its face to mask the slight impatience bubbling in that well tamed body. Even with only a few weeks having passed in all, Brie cannot help but assess that Hope's diet and training regimen must be as impressive as it is strict. Finally turned to face them, the attempted escapee focuses on the shorter of the two women, letting eyes linger on that lean, muscular build and wishing she could have the girl all to herself again. What a strange thought, thinks Brie, shame tinting her face as the frustration of being caught almost doesn't even register. 

"Out for a stroll, Brie? A little fresh air perhaps?" Nicole brings herself closer with that shit-eating grin Brie knows she can't do much about in this moment. "I hope you enjoyed your seven seconds in the sun, girl, because this act of disobedience won't go unpunished. No more skylights for you, understand?" 

"Oh please..." Brie scoffs, looking back out over the city block before them with a wry understanding crossing her face. "This whole morning stinks of your script, so give it up already. You could have restrained me, the security was so light it should've been too obvious you wanted me to do this... guess I was too desperate in the moment to notice, huh? That's... we're in New Cassiepeia right now, you wanted me to see this... what the hell is going on here? What even is this war of yours if you're living in the same damn city as your enemy, that doesn't..."

Commander Black chuckles, stepping even closer until Brie catches whiff of that perfume the rifle at Nova's back is already so hooked on. Brie hates that she likes the scent, immediately able to identify it as something expensive from her own experience with female fragrance. Still, it's just ordinary perfume, it's only effective at placating Hope because of formed dependency and association. The human mind is a funny thing, you can trick it just as easily as a dog's when you know what you're doing. "I was hoping that I could trust you to stay put and be good for me after yesterday morning's demonstration, I truly didn't want to have to take further measures in breaking your spirit before we could start reshaping it... but alas, I fear you've left me no choice."

"Quit the fucking theatrics and just get on with it. I..." Brie cannot help but glance at Hope one more time, feeling hurt at how passively the weapon stands beside its owner while the good commander nods solemnly. The air around Brie seems to freeze as she wonders what Nicole is going to do to her, what a monster like this considers fitting punishment in the face of such a staged escape attempt. 

It comes so quickly that Brie almost misses it in her blink, feeling searing pain reach her nearly two full seconds after the punishment is swiftly doled. Nicole releases Brie and watches the woman keel onto the ground, one with the dirt, writhing like an earthworm. As the throbbing heat in her leg becomes a fire, those leather-clad hands having torn ligament in the manner of a child carelessly breaking their toy, Brie stares up in pain at the weapon she came to save. Nicole's rifle cannot see the worm at their feet, but she finds her lips curling lightly at the sound Brie made in her agony. The image of Hope's pleasure in her pain causes Brie to feel something akin to disgust towards this girl she's only seen as victim up until this point, trying to push the resentment back down lest it becomes her. Distantly, Brie wonders if this feeling right here isn't Nicole's true goal in this latest performance. Punishment isn't liable to teach the butch much of anything, but seeing Hope's reaction to her suffering has flipped a switch in her mind she struggles to correct. It makes her want to punish that smug weapon and see how she likes it. An ugly, aberrant thought that Brie extinguishes as quickly as it flares up, but still... a part of her is grateful for the distraction. 

Perhaps even this animosity is, in a sense, transactional in nature.

Chapter Two: Hellhound Chasing Dragon

Brie awakes to the scent of antiseptics and the sight of a much darker ceiling. After adjusting to the artificial light suddenly flooding the room from motion activated sensor, Brie sits up in her much harder bed and lets out dry, bitter laugh at the stark contrast to this cell she now occupies and the princess treatment she had been given in the penthouse. Somehow, she thinks it suits her better to play the caged beast. A wounded animal at that, Brie staring down at the current state of herself with a grimace. The needle marks have been sanitised and patched over, but the sight of her leg is what gives the woman pause. A brace hugs her leg from ankle to thigh, clunky looking metal that tells Brie she won't be doing much running in her immediate future. With appropriate brooding, Brie considers that she does not remember anything between receiving Nicole's physical punishment and waking up in this room where she could not begin to discern whether morning or night rules the world beyond these walls. Unsure whether she was sedated by Nova or simply passed out from the pain, Brie swings her legs over the side of the bed to prove her own undying resolve, planting feet against the hard ground and she assessing her new home.

A relatively small cell with bars directly ahead of her leading into a corridor that gives view of more empty cells. How lonely to be the only prisoner here, of a war she cannot begin to comprehend. Raising a hand to her face, Brie feels that steel muzzle has returned to her at last, secured by leather harness the woman can no longer bring herself to tug at. It suits a beast like her, she thinks with a dark smile to the mirror once she manages to drag herself over to it. Hands close around the sides of the sink protruding from concrete wall, Brie inspecting the scrape that slowly heals on her cheek and the blunt bangs that she recognises suit her as well as this mask. Is Nicole afraid she's going to bite or something? It's not an entirely unfounded fear, Brie supposes. 

"Ah hell... I'm already starting to accept this and she's not even..." Brie purses her lips and grips the white ceramic tight, remembering Nicole Black's promise of a drugging regimen. Not a promise, a threat, Brie corrects herself wryly. A part of her yearns for the escape from responsibility and guilt already, just as that rifle had, but Brie has seen just how different Nicole's control is to Envy's. Spending time on this side has only endeared Brie to Envy's methods further, the raven haired garden mistress appearing benevolent by comparison. It's why Brie suggested that she and Hope resubmit to the empress to begin with, but now she's more sure than ever that she was right in making such a call. Brie's father died in the military, she grew up with so many people telling her what a damn hero he was and the girl only ever thought that the selfish fuck shouldn't have knocked someone up just to go play war in poorer countries immediately afterwards. A deep resentment for this militaristic flavour of control urges Brie to spite her 'Commander' until the very end, until her will is well and truly spent. 

Clacking footsteps signal Nicole's arrival, Brie rolling her eyes and staring herself down in the mirror one last time as though to say "You better not fall for any more of her shit, or we'll have problems." 

"Ah you're already awake, and on your feet no less. You're persistent if nothing else, my Hellhound." Dry smirk coats commander's lips, Nicole donning the black as usual with matching leather riding crop tucked under her arm. 

Brie snarls, living up to the new name almost instantly through natural instinct and disgust. She wonders how Nicole ever expects to bring her to heel, to make her loyal, when all she ever does is smugly antagonise. "I'm to be a mutt, eh? People can't seem to make their mind up if I'm a stud or a bitch, guess so long as I ain't human it's no biggie. Even now, I see that equestrian's tool, guess I'm a hybrid."

"Hellhound suits you too well, and I like the ring more than Night-Mare which was the other name my team had been considering." Nova laughs and Brie realises she's being mocked, her sardonic smile only growing wider with an almost masochistic glee, twinged with rebellion. "Besides, the name will suit you much more with this on to match that face-wear. I could have had you wake up in this, too, but I decided that I really wanted to see you put it on yourself." Nicole raises her hand on the other side of that resting crop, presenting a leather collar, thick and padded with burnt umber hue. At the front of the chunky accessory is a gold coloured ring. Half dog collar, half slave collar... another hybrid. 

"There's no way in hell I'm putting this on willingly." The hybrid barks, crossing her arms and approaching the cell bars with a clinking sound coming from the steps on her right side. Did they make her brace extra noisy so that she couldn't sneak around? Or perhaps to make her feel even less human? Brie could believe Nicole the type to view those with disabilities and impairments as lesser beings, especially with that leather cape snug around her shoulders and the black cap... she certainly does not fit a suitable image of hero anymore, instead appearing almost comically evil. The fascist look might just be another costume to the performer who sees this world as little more than her personal stage, but Brie still sees some truth in the uniform. Take Misty Black's disease for example, Nicole began to see her own wife as little more than a liability since it surfaced. "Pull your gun on me again if you must, it'll be the only way you get me to comply."

"Ah, so soon you're asking for my sultry sidearm back in your mouth? Suppose I must have given you some manner of sexual awakening with it, hm?" Mrs. Black steps closer to the bars as though goading Brie to try and reach for her. The collar is pushed through the gaps and dropped unceremoniously onto cell floor, Nicole's lips not faltering in their smug curve. "That won't be necessary today, I'm not so keen on indulging your sick perversions until I'm sure you've earnt it, that you're even worth the lick of my crop. No more visits, no meals, no nothing until you put that collar on. The moment you do you won't be able to remove it again, but your cell door will be opened. Depending on the time you may find me in the interrogation room just at this end of the corridor." Nicole playfully gestures ahead with her crop. "The other door cannot be opened without clearance, and no you won't be able to kick this one down, not even if you were at your full strength. I want you to know these acts of perceived cruelty are not without purpose, I mean to soften you up, simmer that ego of yours at low heat until bitter acceptance has you dancing to a tune of my own making. I don't need you to love or even respect me, Brie, I just need you willing to accept that my path can give you more catharsis than you yet realise. I want you to ruminate on that this evening... or ah, is it morning?"

"I think mental games, manipulation and the like, are a hell of a lot less effective when you spell them out to the intended recipient." Brie sulks, backing away with metallic clanks and sitting on the edge of the bed, hooded eyes gazing at the collar by the bars. 

"No, they're not. On the contrary, in fact, you're a smart enough girl to know that my words, dangerous as they are, undeniably offer a salvation you won't find elsewhere. I'm opening a dialogue, not with the you out here who pretends she isn't tempted, but the one within who already counts down to the moment she knows she'll cave. That collar, and all that comes after, is destiny. It's all you have to look forward to down here, if you were strong enough to deny that you wouldn't have gotten here in the first place. Fortunately for you, we're well past the era of good and bad decisions, now it's simply awaiting the inevitable. Eventually you'll settle on a duration, maybe five minutes or maybe five hours, where you'll reason with yourself that you made a good enough effort to resist. You'll mentally pat yourself on the back for having put up any kind of struggle and then you'll submit. There's a life for you here, Brie, it may not be the one you think you want but it's the only future you have in the cards now. What a shame it would be to waste in a cell, hm?" Nicole pushes the collar forwards some with her shiny black boot and titters into gloved hand. "I'll see you soon, love, don't keep a woman waiting."

Breathing short, shallow breaths, Brie watches her captor fade from view and listens to those heel clacks grow slowly distant until the slamming of a door ushers in a new era of silence. The collar jeers, Brie having only just made the mental connection that she's bereft of gown, naked and sweating with signs of struggle strewn across her body. Has she endured enough yet to accept defeat without guilt? That's the sort of thinking Nicole is banking on, Brie realising just how hot she is despite the lack of clothing. The only garments she possesses are the muzzle secured to her face and the brace around her leg, making her truly feel like some manner of animal locked up here in dimly lit dungeon. If she were to put the collar on, she'd have a third accessory to call her own, the woman muses with bitter laugh that comes out feeling just a little too hollow. 

"Fuck..."

From the moment that collar landed on the cell floor, Brie knew she was going to have to put it on eventually. That's not quite true, she could refuse it forever and accept a slow death of protest, but such a sacrifice requires a spirit far more intact than hers and unfortunately she's all too aware. Just like Nicole suggested, her knowing the tricks does not dampen the effectiveness, it just helps her know her next lines. The woman passed her a script and Brie can spit on it all she likes, she still reads it to perfection when all is said and done. The poor thing can't help herself, that heat slick between her thighs reminding her that all of this, somewhere deep and shameful, brings a wrongful desire. A wound of pleasure on her soul. 

Hours have passed, or perhaps only a handful of minutes, and Brie cannot help but focus on the most telling truth of all. It would be so simple and easy to ensure she could never equip that collar sitting across from her by just throwing it past the bars, out of reach. Knowing this and seeing it yet within her grasp tells anybody concerned here all they need to know, Brie terrified that should she touch the alluring loop of leather she might feel helplessly compelled by some dark urge to clasp it around her neck before she can be rid of it.

With a sharp intake of breath as her mind already begins to war with itself, Brie looks down at her slick, naked form, built and broken. Ever since getting this body she's taken such pride in it, distant memories of weight training and cardio flash a smile onto her face as fingertips run down the skin, stopping short of her lap. Heat she wishes she could still deny pools between her legs, Brie understanding just how wrong it is to accept that any of this could turn her on but knowing just as well that arousal isn't a switch. Though neither is Brie, her preference has always been to dominate and she doubts that's suddenly going to change even in the midst of all this madness. Can she top with collar and muzzle and brace? What will Nicole put her in next, she wonders, realising grimly that she has indeed accepted the collar deep down. 

That's right, this body Brie prides herself on, that she adores so dearly... she could never bear to see it waste away. In the end, she didn't even put up enough of a faux struggle to elicit those brownie points Nova mentioned. Lifting up from the bed with a grunt, Brie takes two steps forwards and turns to confront herself in the mirror one last time before she takes the plunge. Her face looks a little pathetic in this moment, but surprisingly she cannot bring herself to avert her gaze, transfixed by the sight of somebody wading deep through mental justifications and shameful compromise. She's not a fighter, she's a survivor, and a healthy modicum of guilt always comes along with that path. 

"It's just a damn collar... doesn't mean shit." She speaks hollow words of bravado as fingers curl into the cool leather, Brie lifting up the hefty accessory and running her thumbs over it timidly. Eyes lose themselves in a blur and she holds her breath, Nicole having built this moment into something that it's not and Brie becoming swept up in her theatrics. Like she said, it's just a collar, any symbolic act is just the result of overactive imagination. Primed thought, every word from that foul woman's lips an act of covert conditioning. Brie tells herself that remaining aware of this will keep her from falling for it, but she also couldn't help but see some truth in those words of Nova's that suggested the very opposite. She's like a penny swirling around one of those spiral donation boxes, eventually it reaches the middle and slips out of sight completely. 

With both hands on the collar, Brie raises it to her neck while still holding her breath, only exhaling once she has slipped it around overheating skin and clasped cool leather into place. It's a long, significant exhale, Brie too scared to turn to her left again and inspect that goading mirror. The collar is not uncomfortable, but it is impossible to ignore, the feeling it clasped around her neck like that of Nicole's firm leather grip lightly choking her. Brie bites her lip and traces fingertip over the smooth surface, letting her touch linger on that cold metal ring for just a little too long before she snaps herself out of her stillness and finds the will to lash out again. 

"Fuck you! Open the door already, I put the damn thing on!" Strong hands grip the bars of her confined space in frustration and Brie finds the cell door push open against her weight, creaking as she takes a step forwards and making it move with little resistance. Automatic lock, Brie's eyes flick down at the locking mechanism and heat touches her cheeks from embarrassment over the unnecessary outburst. With tentative steps, Brie enters the corridor and swallows nervously, looking to her right at the door Nicole must have gone through before whipping to the left and considering escape. Nova said she won't be able to break out and really Brie believes her, but her foolish and tattered pride will never last if she doesn't at least try. With fruitless, feigned determination, Brie drags herself with hobbling steps over to the door that leads out into the base. Unnaturally strong hands attempt to force the door open in a pathetic effort and Brie idly wonders if Nova is currently watching her, popcorn in hand. The woman did mention wanting to watch Brie put the collar on, so it's safe to assume there are cameras even if the predator turned prey can't currently make them out with naked eyes. 

With half-hearted kick, Brie stumbles back and curses quietly into the air before her. Tiring herself out here on a performance she knows won't get her anywhere will not only just weaken her up for Nicole, it's no doubt what the vicious blonde is banking on. Turning with teeth now threatening to break the skin at the corner of her lip, uncertainty and doubt running a train on her confidence, Brie begins her journey towards the door on the other side of the corridor. If Nova lies beyond the threshold of that steel rectangle growing larger in her vision with each clinking step, Brie can give the woman a piece of her mind and reclaim the self-respect she'd shed when putting on this collar. 

Finally reaching the other side and embarrassed at the exertion it took, Brie feels determined to make an entrance... entranced by the notions of theatre as she finds herself another actress on Nova's stage, playing her part to perfection as she pushes boot against interrogation room door and blows it open with a crash. Nicole is sitting on the other side of a plain steel table with loops bolted onto its surface, a door to her left and a wide one may mirror at her back. In that reflective wall, staring past her tormentor, Brie finally catches sight of that burnt umber collar matching her hair so well, naked form all too hunched. Straightening her back with a traitorous blush she'd claw off her face if she could, Brie wears a mask of pride sporting more cracks than a construction yard. 

"Aren't you going to take a seat, love? Or are you too busy admiring the Hellhound in the mirror?" Commander Black gives an ugly titter, resting back in her chair with one leg resting on the other's knee in steady bounce. Sitting in her hand, enveloped snugly in those impenetrable black digits, is a syringe filled with glittering amber. A drug as gold as her giving gaze, Nova smirking when she watches a transfixed Brie sit down by sheer instinct without registering how easily manipulated she had been into doing so. 

"Look, don't get any funny ideas thinking I'm your pet now just 'cause I put some stupid co--" The hothead loses steam as the sounds from under the table finally reach her burning red ears, Brie pushing her chair back and gulping like she's in a cartoon before taking a peek at the source of such indecent sounds. A chorus of strained moaning, almost entirely held back on account of her training, alongside squelching touch that has Brie overheating again so soon. There, under the table knelt by her handler's boot, is the rifle Brie cannot bring herself to see as the Hope she had hooked up with. For once the weapon's arms are not bound behind its back, though the metal plated mask is still snug around its face to rob the thing of vision. One hand is buried between the pathetic creature's legs while another flattens against the floor by handler's boot to steady itself in its lean. Brie watches the weapon get itself off while polishing every inch of its owner's blackened boot with well trained tongue. Wet sultry muscle hangs out with panting breaths blowing past it, rifle worshipping the chunky footwear like its just as precious to it as Nicole herself, entire body trembling in pleasure wrought by hasty touch and total submission. 

"She's completely gone, you understand? The girl you knew, she's been filed down and repurposed into something truly mine. She loves how utterly owned and controlled she is now, helped me break her in with gleeful compliance. Don't feel bad for her, Hellhound, she wanted this... now all she wants is what I tell her to." Nicole speaks clearly, that projected voice not reaching the ears of a tool far too committed to a singular function as it currently stands. If handler were to snap her fingers, of course, the dutiful rifle would stop in an instant and await instruction. Brie feels a spike of hatred welling up deep inside and pushes her thighs together, wishing a part of her didn't feel jealous to see Nova getting such personal attention from a girl she's so attracted to herself. "You want her, don't you?"

"Wh-what?" Brie chokes, eyes returning to Nova's and then swiftly trailing back down to find that shimmering shot in her hand. "Is that some kind of joke? I... I mean yeah, I came here for her."

"And how ungrateful she is after all your suffering, hm?" Lips curl with monstrous delight, Nicole figuring this won't be half the challenge she had anticipated it to be. "Her usefulness to me in this current state of affairs has run its course, more or less, so I suppose we could strike a deal. I'm offering her to you, Hellhound. My rifle won't be anything but a tool, you must understand, I've cored out all else with methodical sessions you're fortunate to be spared from, but her body... her obedience... both are quite delectable are they not?" Mrs. Black removes one of her gloves and snaps her fingers crisp into the tense air, the kneeling tool ceasing her boot-shining and crawling out from under the table on Nova's side. The being Brie isn't sure how to refer to in her mind stands up straight and slips sticky fingers from her drooling sex, bringing her arms back into position behind her back even without the physical restraints as though it's what feels most natural to her now. The sight is dangerous to Brie, who stares unfettered at that tantalising skin on show with the bodysuit zipped down. This is a different one to her pilot uniform, the zip on that was at the back and the material much less shiny. In place of neoprene, the weapon currently finds itself clad in giving latex, peeled back to reveal that well maintained form that Brie feels all too desperate to get her hands on. Shame floods her a drug of its own, Brie wondering what the hell they could inject into her body in addition to have her feeling dirtier than she already does. 

"Hope..." The collared captive mutters weakly, knowing she's only setting herself up for a crushing retort from her very own damsel. 

Adhering to the script with perfect punctuality, the tamed brat cocks its head and snorts, corners of her mouth peeling upwards in amusement of the fact that somebody still sees her as anything more than key accomplice in her own corruption. She had been so desperate, eager, to run away from the burden of being a person. Free will had lost its allure in a world of being passed from owner to owner, her desire to resist getting lost little by little in each transfer. By the time Joy had found herself in the manor of Nicole Black, she was already on such a steep discount that taking her identity was child's play. She had already given up on being a person, she was just made to forget for a while. A domino's duty is to fall, but prop it back up and it might live in delusion for a time. Cycles like these are usually going nowhere fast, but Joy's wheel of destiny does have an end goal in sight. In golden eyes the reality of her fall is illuminated and then, the remembrance swiftly stolen. All will be revealed at the end of the play, as is customary. 

"You're not a very bright beast, are you now? I thought that nearly breaking you with my Rook would have tipped you off, but you're a stupid old dog that won't learn new tricks, huh? I'm exactly where I belong, Brie, and maybe you are too. We were both just going to hand our free will over anyway right, what does it matter if the recipient changes? So long as we were together, right? I can't have been the only one who felt a spark." The romantically twinged sentiment seems so twisted and cruel now, but Brie supposes she can see some logic in the words. Envy is not so brutal, not one to dismantle a person's very essence in the way Nova seems to have taken to with giddy abandon. No longer does that woman pretend to be anything but an abusive sociopath, one who now presents Brie with her only real chance at salvation. A submission to the spite that drives her, the former hero won't deny that she's tempted but... 

"I'd tell you to speak with your own damn words instead of reading from Nova's script but I suppose that's all you've got left, huh? There's being weak and then there's this, Hope... you just... you're..."

"Irresponsibly malleable? Selfishly submissive? Ehe... I'd kill you and all your friends at handler's command, you know? I'd do it with no expectation of reward, even, because it's just what I do. Follow orders, comply... I get off on how fucking useless I am when left to my own devices. Do you have any idea how liberating it is to not have to think? To not decide, ever? It's... it's heaven, Brie, the world's worst addiction~" The rifle steps closer, pushing its toned stomach against the table's edge as Brie eyes that horizontal scar with curiosity before the words hit her like espresso. A stimulant of strong provocation has Brie losing her temper again, finding it so much easier to lose her cool while in the state she is, in the situation that has her in an altered headspace even if she doesn't quite notice.

"Ugh, just stop. You sound so... you're just..." Brie can't bring herself to say how disgusted she is, how pathetic she finds this goading creature who raises a hand to suck the lust from coated fingers with a pleasured hum. Desperate to remind herself that this is a product of Nicole's abuse and not the girl she felt so endeared to in recent past, Brie cannot help but resent her anyway. It's just too much for her to justify anymore, knowing a person can surely not be warped to this degree without some acceptance and cooperation on the part of their own soul. Corruption is temptation is a crow, the call it makes a warbled, mangled mess of sound that should be too nauseating to follow deep into the dark lest you make a deal with the devil in your heart. Hope gave herself over to Nicole willingly in the end, Brie feels sure of this and the knowledge kills her sympathy.

"Oh, don't blame her." Nicole mutters with a voice marinated in smugness, Brie knowing damn well that such helpless resentment was her objective. A dark ambition to turn Brie on the girl she means to rescue, the heaving, heavily accessorised butch scowling at their puppetmaster. "Rifle, time out for a moment." The blonde snaps her fingers and Brie watches as the invisible strings pulling the weapon's lips into a smirk suddenly unthread, rifle's shoulders slumping. Lips softly part, mindlessness looking good on her, Brie unable to avert her gaze even if she's nervous over Nicole's reason for putting that mind on pause. What's left to keep secrets from, she wonders, chewing her lip restlessly. "Step back a little, if you please." Those last three words have been woven tight into the living weapon's subconscious since the very beginning of her re-education here, Commander Black's rifle stepping back as a line of drool escapes the corner of her mouth and reflects dim light into Brie's dulling eyes. Why does it bother her so much?

"Hey, leave her alone." Groans the Hellhound-to-be, standing up as she realises how much she'd hate to watch that wretched woman toy with Hope right in front of her. She's not so presumptuous as to consider it anything close to cuckoldry, perhaps this is her own possessive streak shining through... or perhaps Brie is finally worked up enough to accept that she'd simply hate to feel left out. Biting down her own internal admonishments, Brie's next words catch in her throat, the skin housed in tight leather that constricts her protest. 

"Relax, I'm not going to fuck her, that's your job. You really are needy things, both of you..." Commander Black chuckles and peels the rifle's body suit down to her hips and then rolls it further still, turning the tranced out tool with light touch. "I thought I'd direct your attention to these." The woman in black military uniform slides her hand down contrasting curves, extending her eclipse to gesture to her toy's behind. Just above her rear are a series of needle marks, Brie's eyes narrowing and flicking over to that syringe still held firm in the woman's other hand. 

"What's it do?" Feeling herself retract a little as she spends every breath in anticipation of that needle finally sinking into her flesh, Brie returns raptured gaze to the marks on the empty weapon's skin. 

This is when Nicole's smile truly becomes an ugly, vainglorious grin. "Oh this? It's pretty isn't it? Shimmering, golden... but it won't make you see stars, only her. You'll see soon enough, the way it reduces you with burning passion, trapped in tunnel vision that has you forgetting this building even has a fucking exit. You're not so wilful, Brie, this will prove that to you rather definitively. It'll make you into a bitch in heat, at least I hope, given that it's an untested prototype I can't really say for sure!" 

"What? Then..." Realising too late that she's once again played into Nicole's hand with her reaction, lent credence to her loathsome theatrics, Brie shuts herself up and glances those needle marks being presented in a silent fume. So that's Nicole's point here... 

"That's right, we didn't even have to drug this one. She fell so easy to placebo like she was grateful for the pretence, the excuse to just hand over her misbegotten whole. I'll concede that a healthy dose of something to lubricate the ego will go a long way to twisting more human subjects such as yourself, Brie, but if you're still holding out hope that this thing beside me is a person I want you to remember that she never had a single dose. I suppose we did give her supplements, mild stimulants, but never anything psychoactive--"

"Stimulants are psychoactives you smug bitch." This is as good as Brie is going to get regarding small victories here in Nova's grasp, grateful for the catharsis of showing her up even if it dies a little when reminded of that leather clasped around her neck, the muzzle she speaks through. 

"Sit."

Gritting her teeth, Brie foolishly meets that overpowering golden glow in natural response to Nicole's suddenly raised voice, her mind blanking out for a brief flash in which she finds herself firmly planted in the chair once more, blinking away that unnatural grogginess. Did she strike a nerve? Brie isn't sure whether she feels emboldened to keep pushing now that she's received direct proof of this woman's fragile ego, or if she's too scared to discover just how poor Nova's impulse control can be when she's challenged in any serious capacity. The famous showdown between Nova and Envy speaks volume, no? When push came to shove the greatest hero in the world immediately tried to fry her opponent's brain without a shred of mercy. People like her cannot stand not being in control at all times.

"Supernova." Nicole relaxes and chuckles again, picking up the resting crop to run over her weapon's exposed skin as she twirls the syringe with abyssal fingers. 

"Huh?" 

"It's what I'm calling the drug, you'll be its first and only recipient I'm afraid. This is all for her sake, ultimately." Nicole lightly strikes the weapon's bare bottom with her leather crop and Brie winces at the blank gasp that escapes its lips, drool hanging from its chin now. "Speaking of stimulants, this contains a much stronger one. At its core my Supernova is a combination of strong amphetamine and potent aphrodisiac. It'll be energizing, highly addictive, make you feel like a god within reason. Within your cage, I should say. The power you'll feel, the lust you'll be beholden to... suffice it to say that your brain chemistry will be sat upon a platter for my golden drug to have its way with. And then, well, this rifle that has served its purpose will be refashioned into a toy for my Hellhound to have its way with. Everything in its right place, no?" Another strike of the crop against the set dressing, Nicole pleasantly surprised that Brie has not attempted to stand up again and stop her. The captive is far too concerned with the words she's still attempting to swallow, almost mesmerised by that glittering gold liquid staring back at her with a glint of impossibly bright light.

"You'll have to strap me down to a fucking table if you think I'm gonna let you stick me with that needle without a stru--"

A warming glow like the sun's calming rays fills the dim interrogation chamber and Brie feels herself mentally tripping over, biting hard into her lip to try and resist the stare of submission that takes hold. Her eyes scrunch shut and she looks off to the side, panting from the exertion it took to resist. That compulsion to stare a woman down when you're spiting her really backfires with Lady Nova. 

"You resisted... that's... well, it's been a while." Nicole laughs, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet, circling around the table while Brie still fights off the dizzy spell from that intense glow, like staring into the sun and needing to blink away the afterimage for minutes. By the time she notices Nova's approach, Brie breathes deep that waft of expensive perfume and stares down at black leather digit curling into the golden ring at her throat. Brie is pulled up by her collar onto her feet, still refusing to look the woman in the eyes as she trembles in anticipation of a sudden needle prick. 

"Please..." Mumbles the woman whose fight extinguishes more and more the closer she feels to that oblative edge, mental oblivion ablated via assigned worship to a god of feeling. That goddess called addiction, a rush of stimulation that seizes all your better senses. 

"Please what, sunflower?" The tip of Nova's crop pushes into Brie's downturned cheek and tilts her face back up, their gazes grazing as Brie drily swallows, her body locking up with a gripping sense of powerlessness. 

"I don't know... fuck you..." Feeling meeker than ever before, Brie reaches out to grip the black of Nicole's uniform, pulling closer with exasperated sigh. "Just... do whatever you're gonna do, this feeling is killing me." 

The woman in control lets out yet another confident chuckle, tugging that collar so that Brie is forced to press up against ironed black uniform with her naked form, feeling smaller than ever before. "And what feeling is that, girl? Being at another's mercy, a slave to your commander's whim? Be honest." A flash of gold and Nova watches the creature she tames soften against her, cooing out with a fluttering of lashes. 

"Y-Yes..." Brie chokes out, vision clouding as she inhales that heady perfume that takes her back to simpler times. 

"That's yes sir." 

"Yes sir..." Her cheeks are burning hot, Brie still too distracted waiting for that sudden shot to focus on resisting Nova's games.

"Ahaha, I didn't even flash my eyes that time. I guess that all of you are built to fall in line when it really comes down to it, you just like to play pretend from time to time. I can respect a good performance, of course, but let's forego the smoke and mirrors... I want to see the real you, my Hellhound~" Without warning, a hot pain pricks Brie's neck and firm fingers push the drug into her system. Only now does Brie realise that with fingers wrapped around crop and hooked into her collar, Nova had not even been holding the syringe she had feared so. Instead, the dosage comes from behind, administered by the weapon at her back who slides the syringe from Brie's neck and then proceeds to drag her own sultry tongue over the flush skin. 

Brie shudders, that wet muscle against her neck feeling so cold when compared to her own sweltry state, stumbling back the moment Nicole releases her. Feeling so weak, vision a complete blur and heat crashing over her body in waves of stimulating tingles, Brie slumps down onto her chair as guided by the weapon who wipes her with hand towel. Her neck is on fire, though it doesn't hurt, the sensation of intense warmth spreading to the rest of her body, lighting up her fingertips and melting that erogenous zone between her legs. The pain in her leg becomes a thing of the past, Brie starting to feel positively invincible. Nova lords over her with a smirk Brie's sight is still to unfocused to make out, icy bare hand cupping the slumping woman's cheek. Unable to help herself from leaning into the touch so desperately, Brie's vision finally comes back into focus and she stares up at a goddess in the flesh. 

"Fuck... fuck... this is... you're so..." The drugged captive pants, pushing deeper into that touch that keeps her tethered as the chemical in her system does a number on her shame, words like resistance and pride wholly meaningless in the face of a bright Supernova lighting up each and every nerve in her buckling body. "Ffffuuuckk..." 

Nova turns Brie's face from left to right a few times with a satisfied smile plastered over her face, her captive's chest heaving up and down as perspiration coats her human-like form. "That's it, don't rush to move just yet, I imagine the first time on such a strong substance might be a tad intense, teething. Ah... that being said I don't think I can help myself from--"

Suddenly the chair is kicked out from under Brie and she collapses down onto the hard floor with a thud, dull throb in her right leg that simply cannot compete with the euphoria taking her mind and body for the ride of her life. Sluggishly scrambling onto her knees, Brie gasps as fingers cup her chin before realising she doesn't feel them at all, hand holding her muzzle and tilting it up to have the kneeling subject stare upon its new master. 

"This muzzle suits you so much better now that you're unable to stop panting, Hellhound. You better be grateful for this feeling, in time you most certainly will be. You'll be hooked on me and my Supernova, but better still... you'll be entirely dependent on your chewtoy. 

Squeezing her thighs helplessly around digging fingers, Brie tilts her head in confusion as her tongue cannot wrestle out the words. She's never felt more awake, pupils dilating into black holes reflecting the one in front of them, drool spilling from hanging tongue as she attempts to cool down as a dog would. The line of spit hits the bottom of her steel muzzle and drips from the mesh, Brie's hot breath almost visible in the comparatively chilled interrogation room. 

"I'm talking about the girl behind you, dear, I'll be taking my leave in just a moment but rest assured I'll leave her behind in case you need any assistance in getting off, or whatever it is you choose to do with your free time once I'm gone. Remember, you can treat her however you like, it's not really a person anymore so there's no need to hold back." Handler pushes the muzzle down and then drops her hand onto Brie's head, tousling that dyed red hair while the overstimulated mutt still tries to regain some semblance of humanity as pleasure assaults it from all angles. "Good girl, not so mouthy now are we? I'll be seeing you later, Brie." 

Sniffing intensely, Brie bobs her head when the hand swiftly removes itself, racing to get up as she watches Nicole leaving so soon. It isn't that she wants to submit to the woman further, of course, just that she was working up to giving that damned woman a piece of her mind and now she's worried she left it too late... Brie was... only taking a breather. 

Click!

She's too late. Brie stares at the locked interrogation room door and whines, tearing her bottom lip between her teeth as eyes flick erratically around the room before settling on that waiting weapon. The girl formerly going by Hope stands at attention, still holding the empty syringe in one hand with her bodysuit heaped up by her thighs. Naturally, in this compromised state, Brie's first thought is about how badly she wants to kiss that girl in front of her who still resembles the one she'd become attached to on North Star Island. That mask covering the top half of its face only serves to accentuate the bottom, to highlight those highly kissable lips Brie could and would sublimate her goodness against were she not wearing this muzzle to keep the errant mouth at bay. Eyes gaze upon the object of her desire thinking there's no harm in staring, especially when the thing could not catch her doing so. 

"You're ogling my body right now, aren't you?" The weapon's smugness is a true extension of Mrs. Black's, as though that accursed woman had never even left.

"Your..." Brie swallows, utterly breathless as the high begins to consume her. "L-Lips."

Short footsteps bring her closer and Brie sniffs the air to confirm that she carries that same perfumed scent as a product of being Nicole's stress toy. Not wanting to move a muscle lest she give in to the temptation and desire pooling at her fingertips and spilling down her chin, Brie forces her body into trembling stillness while the thing before her crouches down and cups the sides of her muzzle. Pulling Brie's head close to that naked bosom, Nicole's rifle plants a kiss upon freshly tousled hair and the kneeling woman curses under her breath, letting out a string of loose giggles as her clamped legs slowly part. Eager fingers reach for her neglected sex as she plays her body to Nova's tune. 

"What happened to resisting temptation, huh? I can hear those disgusting noises hehe. Handler told me you didn't really want to save me, just claim me... use me. Is that true? That's not very heroic, Hellh--"

"Shut up!" Brie snarls, body still lighting up with pleasurable bursts of tingles that make her feel utterly untouchable. She wants this woman as much as she resents her for being so pathetic, ignoring her own weakness and excusing it in long exhales that do little to calm her down. With temper tested, Brie pulls her hand away and grabs the weapon's thighs, pushing her metal snout between them and letting her wide eyes flutter at the inhale of arousal. "Y-Y-You're just as turned on... fuck... I want... want to taste..." With crass hissing sound, Brie slurps up the sudden salivation that came from her deep sniff, fingers sinking into surprisingly soft flesh and refusing to let go.

"Oh? Hehe, you're really desperate. If you want a real taste I guess you'll need to make me cum, but I can give you an advance... here~" Not sure what to expect, Brie watches as the sole object of her desire leans over her, tugging Brie forwards with overpowering strength and lolling out her tongue. "Open up now, mutt." 

A line of spit trails down through that steel muzzle and coats Brie's lips, the intoxicated Hellhound lapping it up and growling with a warped emergence of pride. "I-I'm supposed to be dominating you! I-I mean... wait, that's just what Nova wants... hahaha, a-almost forgot... I... she wants... uhm..." 

"Ahahaha, you sound like a stupid junkie, a mindless beast. She wants you to start using me for relief the way she does, to twist you into just another one of my wardens after you came all this way with the lofty goal of saving me. Such a stupid creature, I don't want to be saved and... you don't really want to resist." 

"Ugh just shut up!" Brie lunges forwards and pushes the weapon down onto the ground, clambering over it as she feels the urge to take control become too intense to keep pushing back down, clamping a hand over the other's mouth to stop it from saying any more goading words and letting a few of them infect her mind for just a little longer. "I'll make you cum... so just shut the fuck up already." It's such a power trip to hold the mouthy brat down like this, her thumb finding the rifle's clit and picking up from where it had left off under the table. Its moans reverberate against Brie's hand, she knows just how to pleasure this toy at least. Succumbing to the effects of the drug, Brie pushes her head down beside her toy's neck and indulges herself on more of that sweet perfume. "You smell just like her... you're both the same... I... ahahaha... it's like I'm taking it out directly on her. M-Maybe you need punishing j-just a little."

The weapon lays in a sprawl with its back against the floor, well acquainted to rough use so finding this to be child's play, feeling happiest when it's put in its place like this. Submissive groans die against Brie's clamped palm, the weapon pushing out its hips into that expert touch which knows it so well already. 

"You deserve it... don't you?" Finally giving into the rhetoric this place has been attempting to hammer into her, Brie lets the influence carry her over the finish line as her hand pulls away from the brat's mouth only to push fingers inside. "Don't fucking bite or I won't let you cum... ahahaha... I might not anyway, I haven't decided yet~" Brie licks her lips, thrusting fingers into her toy's giving body and curling them, giving pleasure with knuckles that usually only deliver pain. "Your body is too much... I-I just can't believe the sway you have on me..."

Nicole's rifle lets out muffled giggle against the fingers that lightly gag her, tongue lubricating each digit dutifully as Brie switches hands and redoubles her effort down below. She has the chewtoy writhing, moaning, buckling and mewling... each new reaction she can elicit from the toy egging her on further until she stops seeing the thing as a person at all, lost in a haze of pleasure, mind buzzing with ecstasy as her body becomes a glossy sheen of beastly desire. Instead of muffling those moans with her hand, Brie uses it to transform them, fingers wrapped tight around the masochistic rifle's neck and weight leaning down to choke it. Just what it deserves, right?

Hours pass of experimental touch driven by heightened instinct, Brie and her toy both sufficiently spent as they heave in a pile on the interrogation room floor. Consciousness begins to fade as Brie laces her fingers into the rifle's, starting to understand that even this could be a happy ending of a sort.

Chapter Three: Supermassive Black Hole

Brie comes to in her cell, unblemished by the false promises of sunlight and instead flooding with sensor activated light as artificial as her pride. With a groan, the woman sits up and tries to recall how she returned to this stuffy holding room, a thrumming in her skull and a parched throat distracting her from the unpleasant mess of need digging into her heart like a curse nail. Possessive voodoo control would be too convenient an excuse for how much she lost herself against that bright Supernova, now she feels the mass of an imploding star seize her in its place. An emptiness that eats her whole, has her fingers restlessly tapping the sides of the sink bowl as she reluctantly raises her head to inspect the state of her. Still muzzled, still collared, Brie takes stock of the nail marks still set into her cheeks after an undisclosed rest that has the intense high a ghost of memory. She remarks with bitter smile that while she looks an utter fucking mess right now... it doesn't half suit her. 

The sound of a door swinging open has Brie feel alert, as much as she can in this sluggish state of come down. Heel clacks sound handler's approach, her nerves a sudden mess as she idly wonders if today will be repeat of yesterday, or if the calendar has yet to even move. The sore on her lip has no chance of healing as Brie chews nervously, wondering how she's going to be able to face the woman she so scorns after what she did with that rifle. It's such an obvious tactic, the way they're breaking her, but she simply has no idea how to combat it despite knowing this. 

After a short wait that feels an eternity to the addled hound, Commander Black appears on the other side of those cell bars holding black neoprene bodysuit under her arms with umber material covering the shoulders and leather pilot gloves the same colour. "I've decided to become an optimist in this late stage, keep our options open should the worst never come to pass. As such, it dawned on me yesterday evening while I was nursing a bottle of wine in my room... we need you better trained. I feel the discipline should do you some good, not to mention the direction. Stress relief is best implemented after hard work, no? Keep yourself too aimless and it'll all start to become meaningless."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Brie feels her heartbeat betray her at the sight, the smell, the sheer presence of this woman who reduced her into an animal and left her to it last they met. She's starting to reconcile with her new existence, desperate to see that toy again and forget about everything else, just as Nova had intended. "You want me to be your pilot?" She eyes the outfit, the same type that rifle had been wearing while piloting the red giant. "You're kidding, right? The moment you put me in a craft you'll be seeing the back of me for good..."

Nicole laughs, her smile taking on predatory glint. "Almost sounds like you're warning me because you don't really want to leave. It's not a concern I have, anyway, even should you surprise me and dig up the will to run away like the coward I brought here... aha, you're kept well grounded by that collar. It's not just there to teach you your place, Hellhound. It works the same as the prototype version Sage had you wearing during that short-lived mission where you immediately turned traitor and tried to run off with my prize. Besides, you've seen the truth now even if you can't understand it, so why even bother right?"

Brie bites the air in front of her, nails digging into her sides as she fails to find an effective rebuttal and lets the silence speak for her. 

"Good. Now that we're understood... I think this'll be good for you, Brie, both the action to get your blood pumping and... well, they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, don't they? Be good for me here and I'll bring you back to the interrogation room this afternoon, you'll be able to play with your reward for being my good, loyal pet. All night long, to your heart's content." Nova smirks and the sight makes Brie's pussy throb, eyes darting down to the floor as she discovers she's misplaced her protest. What's there to refuse?

"Can I at least get a shower first? And... I don't want to kill anyone, 'kay?" A calmness takes her heart as Brie jumps the hurdle of acceptance, deciding that if she just doesn't dwell on her own weakness for too long, pretends to look past it, she can escape the shame for a time. She still intends to escape, there are just more complications than she can bring herself to mull over right now... the collar, the security, the rifle's reluctance, her leg... the list feels nauseating at present. Tomorrow... tomorrow she'll formulate a plan, for today it might be nice to actually feel like a person again getting to pilot one of those things. What did that nurse call her again? Captain... that sounds a hell of a lot loftier than pet. 

"Of course, in fact I insist. Follow me, there's a virtual leash tethering your collar to my personage so if you stray too far you're in for a hell of a headache again... I'll wager it'd be even more disorienting given the withdrawal, I can see you're missing my Supernova already. Don't worry, you'll get a small taste later if you're good. Perhaps sooner than you think." Unlocking the door to Brie's cell, Nicole allows her pet-in-training to step out by herself with a half grumble, Brie feeling her pride in tatters but knowing there's nothing she can do right now. 

"Lead the way... sir."

"Ah... fuck, that's nice." Warm jets cleanse Brie of the filth of yesterday's sin, giving her a fresh blank state to start her day from or so she'd love to tell herself. Sitting across from her on changing room bench is the outfit she'll be wearing to satisfy Nicole's ambition, another notch. Brie's identity is on the line, her resolve to scorn that wheel she said she'd curse until her dying breath, but all she can think about in this moment is how good the warm water feels in her hair and how eager she is to pilot one of those bipedal machines she's been enchanted by since the moment she laid eyes upon the one they call Mantis. 

Shampoo feels like a luxury item from another life, Brie letting her eyes close as her olfactory obsession kicks into full gear once again and she lets the fresh scent whisk her away to a past in which piloting machines that walked on two legs was a concept reserved for science fiction media. Just what is this world she's playing constant catch up with? And... why can't she stop thinking about that stupid weapon's body? 

Stepping out of the shower with a contented sigh, Brie stares down at synthetic rubber suit and lets out a much more troubled sigh directly after. The idea of refusing to dress into this out of protest seems so childish to her now, as though she's started to accept that submitting to Nova's desire is a more rational play until opportunity rears itself... but then she still maintains enough wit to see that thinking for the flawed logic it is, bitter smiles the only ones she seems to be able to muster now without the aid of chemical supernova to expel her shame and doubt. Human instinct is a prison. 

Glad for the privacy even if she's sure it's purely performative, wondering if Nicole secretly watches her even now and not able to care given everything she's already seen, Brie dresses into her form fitting bodysuit and flexes her muscles to test its comfortability. Movement seems good, Brie tracing fingers over the back of her neck where that procedure had given her the ability to interface with these crafts in the first place. Was that just for Envy's side, though? Does Nova's have their own equivalent to Helena?

Brie shrugs, figuring she will soon have the answers to her questions and that she could do with some time to think on other things. Escape is the word at the forefront of her mind, of course, one that appears so ugly and judgemental that Brie feels like running and hiding from it in this empty room of lockers. "Escape... it's just..."

It feels impossible, Nova is always several steps ahead of her at any given moment. Even just getting out of this place alone seems an insurmountable task, let alone dragging that ungrateful toy alongside her, but that isn't an excuse for her to stop thinking about it entirely.

Sick of chastising herself, Brie zips up her bodysuit and pulls the gloves snug around her fingers, finding a mirror to inspect herself and giving wry grin at the image she finds. It looks damn good on her, she won't lie, but the collar really is an ever present reminder of her place here. One thing that surprised Brie was Nicole removing the muzzle, though the butch bitterly laments the fact that the main reason she'd want it removed isn't even here right now to meld lips with. 

"Well, here I am... can't say I intend to be a good sport piloting for the enemy, just to be honest. I guess I don't exactly have friends, but uh... I don't really get what the hell is going on anymore." Stepping out into the corridor to find Commander Black waiting patiently with back against the opposite wall, Brie feels the oddly casual speech to be surreal in the face of all that's happened. The childish escapism of piloting a cool mech has been her only distraction to latch onto today, but every comfort she allows herself only threatens to poison her with more guilt. 

"It's okay, Brie. You'll adjust, handlers like me exist for that purpose, it doesn't happen overnight. Change is gradual, acceptance is hard earnt, from both sides." Nicole's gloved hand grips Brie's shoulder and the latter irritates her healing lip once again, hating how much she wants to buy into this woman's bullshit the longer she is subjected to her overpowering confidence. "And frankly? I don't give a shit if you love me or loathe me, I've often felt the two amount to much the same in the long run... obsession. It begets loyalty, you're either loyal to devotion or spite, strong feelings are what drive us, and I've chosen your motivators very carefully. Loyalty to the gifts I give you is ultimately loyalty to me. You can feel hatred deep in your gut at the mere mention of my name and still find yourself helplessly beholden to my whim, willing to follow my command. Isn't that just love, really?" Gloved grip tightens to the threshold of being painful and Brie winces, nodding slowly as her mind plays catch up with the confusing rationale. Perhaps a woman like Nicole simply operates on a different level of thought and trying to decipher her madness is a fool's errand. 

"Whatever... just, I can't trust a word you say, so how am I supposed to be loyal? You said there was some... invisible leash or whatever, but I was just on the other side of that room behind me and fuck all happened." The fresh pilot gives her most earnest attempt at a glower, far weaker than the one she gave when she first arrived here. She's becoming complacent, already fantasising about the interrogation room and knowing she has to do as she's told this morning if she wants to find herself back there this afternoon. She shouldn't want that, though, both the lack of control and taking advantage of Hope in that state... but she already did so once, and it was heaven. Even as a detestable piece of equipment, that girl is just so cute. 

"Aha, you're sharper than I expected you to be in the aftermath of Supernova. I could feed you some line about how I deactivated it once you entered the showers, but really, you're missing the point. If you were loyal in the first place, I wouldn't have needed to feed you the lie. I could have implemented such a thing for real, besides, but I knew it wouldn't be necessary. You say you can't trust me Brie, but you always fall for my tricks, like you secretly crave to be in my snare again and again. Do you? Crave it, I mean. Crave me and the rewards I have to offer." Nicole steps closer, lifting Brie's face by her chin and bringing her own closer than she had been able to with the muzzle still in place. Brie almost feels strange without it, like she has too much freedom. 

"Fuck you." Artificial pride gives Brie a rush of pleasure as she manages such a small amount of protest, not pulling away nor thinking to spit as had once been natural response. Her hate feels watered down by the truth she ignores in those words, or at the very least pretends to.

"I'm sure you'd love it if I did, even if you cursed me with every pant as I ploughed you like the property you are for me. I'll cut through your pretences in time but until then, dear, I'll allow them to keep on amusing me and placating you from any real fight." Nova hums, planting cold black lips against her pet's cheek and releasing Brie's chin. The performative rebel whips her head to the side and scoffs, finding it harder to truly hate the woman for what she did to Hope now that they're equally as guilty for having used her. There's nothing equal about it, of course, but Brie's heart just won't listen, powerless to pitiful sentiment. 

"When do I get to fly and break stuff? I've heard enough of your voice this morning to last me a fucking week..." Brie's breathing is humiliatingly heavy and she cannot hide the rise and fall in such form fitting bodysuit, chewing her lip into a new shape as Nicole admires the slow burn submission taking place before her. 

"I'm afraid it's just a combat simulator for today, sorry to disappoint but we're in agreement that you're not currently loyal enough to take to the field. Not outwardly, at least. Let that be something to look forward to, let it drive you to impress me further, hm?" Nova's eyes burn holes into Brie's sense of self as the pilot considers the new trap being laid out before her. Piloting out on the field is her best chance of finding any opportunity to escape, but now her only way to reach that point is by submitting deeper to Nicole's sinkhole of a program. 

Brie coughs, eyes filling with despair as she wants nothing more but to find her misplaced fury, indignation eludes her as a fuzzy feeling fills the back of her head. It's a depressive sort of subspace, Brie feeling completely helpless to the point of her head becoming light and her words catching in the back of her throat. "I... I don't know how to fight this. What do I do?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough, so stop worrying so much." Nicole lights up at the sight of that breaking spirit, guiding her good girl to the combat simulators with a pep in her step as the pet behind her silently follows, lost in a maze of thought. A minotaur of mockery stalks the labyrinth in Brie's head, finding her in its endlessly winding passageways and pushing her down onto the ground. Blood trickles down from her lip and rolls down her chin, her head too light to register the pain as she's led into the simulator cockpit and lowered into comfortable chair. Nicole wipes the corner of her pilot's mouth with a light titter as she buckles the dissociating work-in-progress into the seat and pulls down the bars overhead. Brie is encased in metal cage, mentally and physically, Nicole spraying something cool against the back of her neck and inserting the four cables into the ports she gained from that procedure. With a gasp at the sudden electric jolt and a straightening of her back, Brie lets those broad shoulders relax once more as she glances up at the equipment in front of her. Once she's plugged in, Nicole pulls the hanging bit gag and visor piece down with that same lilting hum, her hand stopping just shy of meeting Brie's face. "Here, this is to help you focus during today's combat training. I'm going into a lot of effort for a very niche payoff here, girl, but I'll admit there are much worse ways to enjoy the twilight of your days. Indulgence has long been my strongest vice, ahaha." 

"Wh-What is it?" Brie glances down at the white tablet resting in Nicole's black palm, specked with flakes of amber. 

"You know what it is, silly. A form of my Supernova designed to be taken sublingually. Which means to dissolve it under your tongue, it'll be faster acting than oral medication but a slower absorption than injecting it directly into your bloodstream obviously. You won't be receiving another injected dose until tomorrow should you pass the test I have planned, so for today you'll have to make the most of this. Naturally you won't be able to see to your arousal until you've downed all your targets, and if you're able to I'd hang onto those pent up feelings until you're back with your toy. Your reward for all this hard work." Nicole speaks softly, the maternal tone in place of strict commander's one making Brie feel soothed in ways she'd spite herself for were she not already so out of it today. 

"Okay... more drugs. Get it over with." Brie opens her mouth and lifts her tongue a little too easily, Nicole pressing the tablet into place and then bringing the front part of the cockpit cage closer to secure into place. Straps are secured around Brie's head as she's forced to bite down around the bit gag that holds her head in place, visor settling in front of her vision. Unable to speak now that she's been gagged, Brie regrets being so passive with her last words. 

"Have fun with today's simulation, Brie, you're very important to the war effort even if I'd struggle to explain how. Our actions here are both terrifyingly meaningless and... the most important thing anybody has ever done. Feel pride, feel pleasure, let yourself be rid of all those old world sentiments holding you back from enjoying being my good weapon. It'll make more sense soon, just try to keep my words in mind." A hand pets Brie's hair as she's left at the mercy of the machine, legs buckled into automatic restraints she only notices when Nicole pulls away and she finds herself able to think more clearly again. That perfume just takes control sometimes, and she doesn't even think it's drugged. 

Chapter Four: Destroy the Enemy

The tablet slowly begins to dissolve under Brie's tongue and she does her best to ignore the creeping high, deciding to focus instead on her combat simulation. Fortunately for this budding pilot, focus is going to be much easier with the powerful stimulant entering her system even with that lust pooling under creaking neoprene bodysuit. Despite the cables slotted into the back of her neck to allow her a much freer sense of control, Brie instinctively grips the manual controls and watches as a simulated cityscape flickers onto the visor before her. 

"Hello there. I'll be your navigator, Holly! I can see that your mouth is a little preoccupied, hehe, but if there is anything you need to ask me then don't hesitate to communicate through our link." The chipper voice plays directly into Brie's mind and the woman gives affirmative groan against her gag, realising she should feel much more embarrassed in this state but feeling too mentally over encumbered to care about that right now. Brie simply wants to fight, to get the blood pumping, hoping a healthy dose of adrenaline might set her fighter's mindset back on track. 

Piloting this thing feels surprisingly natural, Brie's eyes flitting over to the radar in the corner of her display with shows enemy targets as little red triangles making their approach. Bright red text fills the visor as a low static hum pierces her tired thoughts. 

DESTROY THE ENEMY

Simple enough, she thinks. Her equipment is in pristine condition on account of this being a simulation, submachine gun in her right hand to match the one in her left. In real life the weaponry is never so well kept, at least such a thing cannot be relied upon so heavily. Speaking of heavy, Brie wonders how much these monolithic guns must weigh, lifting them with ease through huge metal limbs that needn't do anything at this moment but point and shoot. 

Eyes narrow and focus begins to take its hold, Brie checking the radar in her peripheral and strafing left in an attempt to flank, using long evacuated buildings to cover her approach. As Brie turns the corner with submachine guns poised, the sight of them makes her falter. Sublingual Supernova sets her thoughts ablaze and she stares blankly ahead at the unaware crafts closing in on her last known location. It's no secret that these are Envy's forces, their crafts bear all the tell-tale signs... but this is just a simulation, and her loyalty isn't--

DESTROY THE ENEMY

Mind buckling, Brie bites down on the bar in her mouth and squeezes the triggers with purpose, that unpleasant hum seeming to die down when she's following the orders on the screen. Envy's forces, Nova's enemies, cease to function with a new canvas of steaming holes littering their backs. The screen flashes green and a pleasant ding sounds throughout the cockpit, Brie's chest heaving and her pupils heavily dilating as they had before. While she understands what's happening here... that felt really, really fucking good. 

Making her way over to a resupply station, Brie switches out for weapons that aren't so overheated, attaching extra magazines to her waist magnetically and getting used to her new body out here in the field. Bipedal war machine, it makes Brie feel more of a god than her enhanced strength and speed ever had. In something like this, she could probably even have a chance beating Lady Nova in her prime--

"Nngh!" The static buzz sharply fills her ears and an electric shock is administered, Brie panting against the gag in the aftermath of her punishment and pushing her thighs together shamefully. They can read her thoughts through this link and even administer admonishment... perhaps the goal is to slowly correct her mindset...

Understanding she's going to have to play Nova's game very carefully should she leave this simulation the same Brie that entered, the woman slowly drags her eyes up to the timer counting down at the top of her display. Twenty minutes have passed already... but five hours forty remain.... 

A few hours later and Brie has entered a combat trance, despite her best efforts, dispatching enemy crafts one by one with frightening efficiency. They're just enemies to her right now, red triangles that disappear and transform into praise once she blows a hole into the shells before her. Her body sags forwards in the cage and she grinds her thighs together in desperate heat, once again feeling completely invincible under the effects of Nova's drug and loving the way her body responds so naturally, so intensely, to that rewarding chime that plays whenever she does a good job and destroys the enemy. 

Flush heat against her cheeks simplifies her mindset, Brie no longer struggling to pull the trigger on her target as she slips deeper into this state of accepting what she is. A pilot only needs to perform as instructed, it's just a lot easier that way... more fulfilling to just lean into the drift and--

DESTROY THE ENEMY

Brie's focus intensifies and she smiles as much as she's able to in this state, nerves lighting up in clusters of pleasurable tingles, her trigger fingers itching to find those enemies that she needs to destroy for her reward. After another couple of hours pass by in an instant, Brie's reward is all she lives for, the rush of performing for her faceless overlord of pleasure. Her entire body is slick inside her suit, her eyes completely focused on the task while otherwise dulled and her libido working to undo her ego in dribs and drabs. Drips and drops, hot sticky pleasure smearing against her seat's edge as she grinds her hips with what little purchase she is given. A barking beast beholden to budding pleasure, drooling fervently as chimes push out the negative thoughts one at a time.

The six hour session is almost over already, Brie too focused on her task to bother checking that time counting down overhead. A boss enemy appears as the final wave, two crafts attempting to flank her while she cuts through two buildings far too tall to scale. They didn't give her any time to resupply between waves and Brie's weapons are well and truly spent, the efficient pilot casting them aside without any worry in her heart as she grips the sonic knife at her thigh and slides it free of sheathe. Anybody else in this situation would feel cornered and panic, maybe consider surrender, but... 

Brie feels untouchable right now. 

The enemy mechs come into view from either side and Brie bends her legs to carry herself forwards with the rollers underfoot, keeping herself held steady as she fires off the last of her flares to throw off the enemy in front of her. Due to distance, the foe at her back has yet to land any direct hits, accuracy is not such a guaranteed thing even with calculating machines such as these. 

Her manoeuvre proved an effective smokescreen, Brie raising her knife and reaching through the distance to grip that oversized magnum in the red giant's hand, recognising this machine in the same instant that she digs her vibrating edge directly into its core. Destroying the cockpit means no survivors, Brie's body thrumming with delight and bloodlust when her praise is administered. 

At her back is another familiar craft, the very same one she recklessly attempted to pilot into enemy territory in that pitiful rescue attempt that lasted all of an hour. Is Nova telling her to silence the rebel inside of her? Brie wants to hesitate, but she knows that if she does not comply then she'll be punished... worse still, she won't be rewarded. The Gunmetal grey figure grows larger as it approaches with bursts of rifle fire, Brie raising her arm to mitigate the damage to her shell as she crouches down to grab that discarded magnum and uses the change in altitude to slip forwards and blow a whole into her enemy's torso, swinging her knife in horizontal slice to sever one of the arms hoisting that enormous black rifle. How ironic that the girl named after such a weapon would be wielding a handgun, that surely can't be practical. 

The battle is all but won, Brie planting a foot against that steaming torso with firm grip on the enemy's last remaining arm, pushing firm to tear the limb from foe like pulling string cheese. An assortment of cables and coolant bridge the gap from shoulder to bicep as Brie throws the useless heap of metal down onto the ground and feels such sick satisfaction at besting her clueless former self. And then comes that urgent command she can no longer think to deny, her entire body is made for one thing right now... and one thing only.

DESTROY THE ENEMY

With a calmness in her heart, a throbbing between her legs and a total lack of resistance in her empty gaze... Brie crushes the enemy cockpit with her bare hands. They might as well be her hands in this moment, she can feel them as though they're her very own after all. Every snapping bone. 

...

...

...

"The simulation has concluded, your handler will arrive shortly to collect you. Until then, please feel free to unwind to the sound of Erik Satie's 'Gymnopédie No. 1'. After all, pilot, you are a number one!" The navigator, Holly, replaces that ringing in Brie's ears with classical music Brie hasn't listened to since she left home, an intense relief washing over her. Relaxation hits her like another drug, Brie sinking into the chair and then sinking even deeper still. She's a number one... 

Brie has finally found her pride again.

"Ah, there you are. You're looking rather tired for a girl on strong stimulants, I hope you're not too tuckered out to accompany me to the interrogation room?" Handler lifts the cage, spit soaking the bit gag. Leather strokes through a mess of sweaty hair and Brie whines, swallowing several times before even attempting a response. 

"You're r-really fucking with my head... huh?" Is all she can think to say, excitement welling up in body and mind, a cooperative effort to reduce her to nothing but Nicole's willing plaything. Brie needs help standing, exiting the combat simulator and leaning onto Handler's arm with shame burning her cheeks. 

"Education is always a difficult process, particularly with resistant subjects. I'm fortunate that you're not so rebellious despite your hardened exterior and crude mouth. You're a surprisingly receptive learner, actually, so I'm very proud of you today." A kiss lands upon Brie's mess of hair and she feels herself going insane, eyes strained and body light as a feather. When she's like this she barely notices the ache in her right leg at all, or the way her ego slowly dies. 

"That simulation... training thing... it's some uh... it's brainwashing me, ain't it?" The conversation seems so surreal, as most do with this woman she can no longer quite bring herself to scorn so outwardly. Gymnopédie yet rings in her ears, placating the ace in training. 

Commander Black chuckles, the sound no longer seeming quite so unpleasant. At least she's not upset, thinks Brie with a wry smile that barely houses a curve. "Quite an extreme sounding word, isn't it? It takes my mind to old comic books and the like, but... well, I suppose I can't say it's an entirely inappropriate usage. I prefer to call it re-education, you unlearn past hang ups that were holding you back from embracing your new life here and learn how to be an effective, obedient pilot. The results speak for themselves, Brie, you were more obedient today than I could have ever hoped you to be." That hand falls onto Brie's head again and the pilot stares grimly down at the floor, having no response to give. 

The two walk in silence through the hallways, a clacking of confident boots and the pitter patter of pet footsteps at their heel. Handler and her Hellhound, Nova only wishes she could find a way to make this iteration stick after all the fun she's been having. 

Unlocking the door to the holding cells, Nicole hooks her finger into the golden loop on Brie's collar and pulls her inside, Brie struggling to keep up with the woman's pace but doing her best when robbed of any alternative choice. If she were to stop, the woman could simply drag her along regardless. The two stop in front of Brie's cell and Nicole opens the door, releasing her new pet with a maternal smile Brie can't bring herself to look at for very long, she feels so tired but...

"W-Wait, what... what about seeing her? The rifle... I thought you said--"

"Fret not, dear. I fully intend to make good on my word, but take a look inside already." With plastic smile, Brie's handler turns the pleading woman by her slumping shoulders, hands resting possessively atop them from behind while she waits for her scatter-brained pet to finally notice. 

"My bed..." Brie curses herself for the slip, knowing that referring to anything here as 'hers' would be accepting this place as her home. It isn't her bed, hell, it isn't even a bed anymore. Blinking away that dullness in her eyes, she stares at the replacement with incredulity pooling in those puppy dog eyes. Not a bed, a crate, like you'd have a dog sleep in. 

"It's large enough to remain comfortable, I even put a mattress and blankets in to have you retain some semblance of healthy sleep. I didn't need to do that, understand? Go and take a look at what's inside, a present for my Hellhound." Nicole rubs Brie's shoulders and feels the fragility in this woman through tactile sensation after only a few days in her care. 

Grumbling under her breath, Brie shrugs out of that leather touch defiantly, only to do exactly as she was told. Stepping into the cell, Brie crouches down and reaches into the crate to find the gift Nicole had just alluded to, curling fingers around it and biting down on her lip with a soft groan. "It's a muzzle, I thought I was d--"

"Due an upgrade, yes. Those metal wire things are cheap and frankly, ugly. Only the best for my new pet, hm? Put it on for me, Brie." Nicole snaps her fingers as she would to instruct her rifle, Brie shuddering and staring down at the leather muzzle, the same burnt umber colour as her collar and the shoulders of her pilot uniform. Brie can feel herself straining against all of this measured control, turning the face-wear in her hands and trying to kill the part of her that actually feels some desire to put this on and enjoy it. To lean into the drift. 

"I'm... I'm not putting this on. You've not got that much power over me yet, sir... still gotta threaten me or use your eye gimmick. I'm not so loya--"

Nova retrieves a small remote from her breast pocket, pushing thumb into one of the two buttons sitting in the centre of the circular device. A distorted static sound plays and Brie feels herself slipping, associating this unpleasant noise with her derelictions of duty within the early hours of the simulation. Hands fiddle with the straps and she curses herself for even considering putting the muzzle on, dropping it onto the floor and letting out cool steady breaths to wrestle back her fraying nerves. 

"My, you're stubborn. Perhaps you don't yet understand, Hellhound. Your disobedience is a threat to your comfort and safety here, this stubbornness is... well, the enemy." Lips curl in satisfaction when Brie turns towards her tormentor with a sudden horrific understanding of what exactly was just hammered into her brain. "That part of you that urges you to deny your orders, to refuse my commands... is the enemy, Brie. I need you to destroy it. Slowly, gradually, one order at a time. Let's begin. Go ahead and put your muzzle on, Brie." Snap!

"I won't... I'm not your--"

"Destroy the enemy."

The kneeling creature gasps and tightens her grip against the leather in her hands, torn between two completely opposed mindsets that make a total mess of her psyche. By the time Brie has regained control she's already fastening the harness, the shame that fills her afterwards starting to feel good when accompanied by a push of that second button, a pleasant chime that reminds her of her many successes as number one pilot. She's an ace... she's good... this is good, right? It means she won... 

Arousal spikes and Brie adjusts to her new muzzle, this one covering her face in leather while the metal wire felt far less intrusive at the end of the day. Her sense of smell is hindered, her voice muffled, a warmth trapped in front of this new snout she sports. A mask to hide her tattered pride that ebbs and flows in metamorphosis.

"It looks so good on you, pet." Handler simpers and Brie wilts, still kneeling long after there was any need to. She really does feel like little more than an animal in this moment, lifting her head to bark petty protests at the woman but finding them lost somewhere in that looming sight. The way handler towers over her, in more than simply stature, has begun to infect the beast's confidence in her performative disloyalty. "Come, take a look." Dark hand extends in an offering Brie knows she's no longer able to refuse, taking it with her own trembling grip as she lets out a shaky exhale through the leather muzzle, handler pulling the pet close and Brie's heart skipping a beat. The girl is turned to look into the mirror above the sink and once again, Brie feels something old and unwanted break within her. It really does look good on her. 

Chapter Five: Supernova Kisses Me Goodnight

Brie jumps as the interrogation room door slams shut behind her, giving bitter smile at just how skittish she is right now. She no longer needs to hide her expressions within this leather mask that feels an extension of herself already, Brie taking a couple of steps into the room and admiring the sight of that weapon waiting just for her. The Supernova is already wearing off, she no longer has the excuse of being drugged should she decide to have her way with this cute specimen before her tonight. 

"I was wondering when you were going to arrive, you really know how to keep a girl waiting. Rifles, too." Handler's weapon smirks, sitting on the table's edge in the nude with legs swinging back and forth impatiently. "I've been demoted to your toy, apparently I served my purpose, not that I've any clue what that could be given we only ever did training skirmishes hehe. You... better use me well, okay?" 

Stepping closer, Brie's hands fall onto the other's knees and gently pry them apart so that she may fill the space between them. The front of her muzzle grazes the toy's chest and it giggles from ticklishness, Brie feeling her temptation blossoming at such a noise. "And that doesn't bother you? Being demoted? Most people would... feel shame." 

The toy giggles, wrapping its legs around the pet that now holds rank over her. "I kissed my shame away a long time ago, hehe, or maybe it was still fairly recently I really couldn't say. Do you want me to kiss yours away too? I'll do it for free!" 

Bringing her face closer and standing up straight, Brie runs her hands up the other's thighs and shivers with something a little different to lust stirring up within her. Nostalgia, remorse, hearts and flowers. A primordial yearning to make this woman hers, a longing to hold onto her forever and never let go lest she lose her second lease on life. Even if this toy no longer has a name it feels any connection to, Brie sees it as her lifeline, pulling closer and wanting nothing more but to be baptised by this soft, giving flesh and be reborn anew. "Yes..."

With a playful hum, the weapon reaches out to wrap arms around the uncertain Hellhound's neck, pulling her body over to plant a kiss against that leather covering as both let out shy bouts of laughter. Another attempt is made, Brie turning with haggard sigh as lips press upon her cheek and mark it. The peck feels cold, but only because Brie is once again burning hot with desire she just cannot keep a lid on any longer. 

"I-I want you so fucking bad..." Brie runs rough hands over the softest body she's ever had all to herself, seizing the girl's breasts and sinking digits into them wantonly. The toy gasps and arches her back, jutting chest into the touch in a way that only drives Brie's burning lust to new heights. An immolation of her better judgement, a discarding of values she once held dear, Brie just wants to gorge herself upon this flesh every waking hour of her day. 

"Hehe... that's nice... you're so good at using me, mmgh... but I thought you were here to rescue me, Brie?" The teasing words are surely Nova's, and so Brie decides to treat them as such.

"Shut up... you don't get to speak, okay?" Her hand dips down to cup the toy's mound and hold it firm, the rush of power making her want to forget about such mocking sentiments. 

"You're gonna have to shut me up~!" The weapon goads, Brie taking the bait like a dog playing fetch. 

"G-Get on your knees... I'll give you something better to run your fucking mouth on." 

And so, the toy slips from table and drops down onto its knees, smiling up at Brie as the desperate butch grabs fistful of rust coloured hair and pulls that mocking mouth into place between her legs. The tongue against her cunt is enough to make her vision blur, eager lapping from the previously bratty toy tells Brie that she's now exactly where she belongs. That girl she once called hope, knelt between her legs with nose gently tickling trimmings of wiry hair and making obscene slapping sounds with her tongue that sound like opera to the woman gripping that hair tight. 

It feels good to use this toy, Brie thinks with a dwindling sense of shame yet erring caution in her chest. She'd love to heed it, but she fears she may already be too far gone.

Morning comes, or a close enough approximation in Brie's new world of darkness. The clacking steps of sunlight flood the corridor and a groggy mutt awakes inside of her crate, pulling herself into cross-legged sitting position with a slight pout remembering how she has to sleep in such a humiliating state now. This cage isn't all bad, though, it does make her feel strangely safe if nothing else. 

"There you are." Speaks that golden Nova as though she could be anywhere else, Brie giving her best attempt at glare to hide the gratitude she feels for the rollercoaster that was the day before. The highlight of her day had of course been that long afternoon, spilling into evening. Brie had to punish her toy but... the girl was asking for it, so it's fine... it's just what she deserved right? 

"Mm... are we uhm... what are we doing today?" Fidgeting in her lap, Brie lifts her head and really does start to feel her claim on humanity start to slip. She still has her words, though, that has to count for something. Handler gives the pet a stern look and Brie recoils, wishing she had something to chew on beside this busted lip. "What are we doing today, sir?"

"Decision time. Depending on how you choose, it may be your last, so I want you to savour this." Nicole unlocks the cell with one hand and lifts the other to show a black leash dangling from matching fingers, a golden clip on the end to be attached to collar. With shallow breaths, Brie crawls out of her crate and steadily gets back onto her feet, the leg brace much more necessary now that the effects of handler's drug have worn off. Brie feels the come down make her antsy, judgement compromised by a craving for that high to take her to places unknown. 

"D-Decision?" The stammering is a constant hammer to her soul, every time she flubs her words Brie feels like such a weakling. 

"Yes, pet. I've unlocked both doors in this hallway. To my right is your freedom, and to my left, acceptance." Freedom or acceptance, the words play on Brie's compromised mind and she wishes she were in a better headspace to make the choice. Biting down on her tongue to bolster what little resolve she has left, Brie clinks forwards and pushes past Nova, taking a few steps towards a freedom she cannot help but doubt the authenticity of. Only then does she remember the mistake Hope had made in assuming the rescue attempt was little more than a test. It really wasn't, if only she had been able to see that. Perhaps handler truly means to set her free if Brie willingly leaves, the woman scoffing at the overconfidence of this bitch. Does she really think that after a few days of manipulation, Brie is so snugly in her palm that she wouldn't... that she won't...

Brie clutches her head, uncertainty plaguing her as she takes another unsure step towards her exit. Nicole steps closer, still holding the leash. "Out there, you won't receive any of my luxuries. You'll be afforded freedom in a world you do not understand, nor care for. You'll be bereft of Supernova and toy, of my calming perfume, of purpose. Maybe you'll have enemies, but you won't destroy them quite as easily as you do under me. You'll be weighed down by all that I've done out there, where here you'll be lifted up by it."

"Sh-Shut up... god, you're so..." Brie takes another step, feeling despair at how little she wanted to, how much she had to force her leg forwards. There's a life here, even if it's wrong... if she leaves, she could regret it forever. "I'm... confused."

"Would you like some help with your decision, then?" The Hellhound's handler cannot help but chuckle at Brie's indecision that leans in her favour, smooth touch sliding around the pet's shoulders. 

"Godyess..." Sighs out the struggling captive, leaning back into the other woman's body before catching herself and barrelling forwards, stumbling and very nearly collapsing down onto the ground. "You can't... this isn't..."

"You just sound too confused to make your choice without aid, is all. Brie, I think you need to destroy the enemy within you that still tries to convince you that old sentiments hold strong. That part of you that wants to leave isn't real, it's just an enemy combatant, see?" Nicole does not close the distance between them this time and Brie feels a sulk coming on, hating how powerless she is... that feeling is the enemy... 

"Destroy the enemy..." The struggling pilot mutters under her breath, repeating it like a chant, a mantra. "Destroy... the enemy.... destroy the enemy..." Her lip quivers within the mask and she nods erratically to herself, even if she has no idea what she's agreeing with. She just needs help... that part of her too stubborn to ask for help is just another enemy she needs to destroy. "I... sir, I need... fuck, you're not my..."

"I'm your handler, Brie. It means I'm here to help you. No I'm not your friend, it's better to think of me as something of a... generous owner. I mean to say, I could be much, much crueller. Instead I simply feel possessed in this moment to free you from this indecision that has your head spinning so! Let me help you destroy the enemy, okay?" Nova smiles and Brie has not the mental fortitude to see through the facade, stepping back towards the woman who offers her salvation from this ugly doubt inside of her. 

"O-Okay. I think... think that's okay." She gulps and approaches with a limp to her step, her expression one of a woman completely lost in the world. "Just... tell me what to do... I can't take this anymore, not knowing what... what to do... destroy the enemy, right?" 

A hand reaches out and plants itself atop the captive's head, leather digits spreading out to hold her steady as Brie can no longer feel anything but transplanted gratitude. Leaning up into the touch, Brie closes her eyes and breathes heavily in and out, all she's able to think about is how thirsty she is. "You know you don't really want to leave, girl, so be good and forget about freedom. What is freedom, anyway? Does leaving this building make you free? Have you ever felt freer than when you were high on my golden drug, either buckled into my simulator destroying our enemies or playing with that toy who breathes only for your pleasure. Isn't that more freedom than a wretched beast like you could ever hope to ask for? That ungrateful sentiment in your heart is the enemy, destroy it and then... thank me." Handler snaps her fingers and Brie sinks into the spot she stands on, acknowledging orders with a shallow breath.

"Thank you... sir." Brie speaks the words through leather muzzle, her body lighting up in anticipation of the reward that soon plays from handler's remote. Slipping into subspace, Brie enjoys that chime with newfound acceptance, just as Commander Black had promised. "Ahh... mm... I... _{I don't want to leave..."}

Suddenly, the woman steps forwards and pulls Brie into a tight embrace. The new pet's eyes shoot wide open and she lets her hands hover for a while before timidly returning the hug, shaking with excitement and shame at the same time, the latter evacuating her body as the former destroys the enemy. Hot tears fall onto Brie's cheeks as she realises she's finally given in, broken by Nova after only a few days while judging the weapon for falling within a week. She thought she was stronger, bawling into her handler's shoulder as she learns just how weak and pathetic she truly is, but feeling lucky that none of that matters anymore. In fact, that weakness only serves to strengthen her new role, so it's fine. Better than fine, it's good... she's good...

"That's my good girl, let it all out." Nicole rubs Brie's back and the pet falls deep into acceptance, letting the person she hated more than anyone in this world now give her comfort, take the pain away. "See how much happier you can be when you let me destroy that shame holding you back? I only want what's best for you, Brie, so do as you're told from now on alright?" 

"Yes... Yes sir..." Brie sniffles, wanting this hug to never end as she doubts she'll be getting another from her Handler anytime soon. It feels so good when she lets it, learning that you can just change your perspective on matters with a little help from your superior. It clicks into place for her now, just how malleable the human mind can be, a tepid smile curling her lips. Handler clips the leash into Brie's collar and the pet makes no play at protest, feeling utterly spent now as the woman gently tugs her away from freedom and towards her favourite room in the world. 

Waiting inside is, of course, Brie's special toy. 

"Enjoy your reward this morning, Hellhound, I'll be back in a few hours to take you to training."

"Y-Yes sir."

"Oh, and one more thing~"

A hot prick of pain against Brie's neck, the Supernova kissing goodbye to any enemy reinforcements.

Several days later

A sonorous snapping of fingers brings Brie's consciousness back to the forefront and she awakens to the sensation of powerful thighs squeezing her face, muzzle temporarily removed as her dutiful tongue laps away. This is her current mission, fingers tightly gripping her hair, hips thrusting forwards to fuck her face throughout a haggard climax that leaves her glazed in a smear of perfection. Handler's arousal coats her and Brie can only stare up at that smugness with demure look she'd never give her toy in a million years. There's a hierarchy in play here and Hellhound is firmly in the middle. 

"Ah... ahh... good. I wanted you awake for the last few licks, now clean up the mess and I'll consider letting you return to that poor thing you ah... left hanging." Handler chuckles softly in her post-orgasm haze, directing her pet's mouth to all the sticky spots before pushing it away and sliding up her trousers. With a long sigh and an even longer drag from her smoking cigarette, Nicole leans back and chuckles.

Despite the rebellious sounding name, Brie finds herself to be a helplessly obedient creature around her commander, a beast well tamed. To her enemies, however, she prides herself on having the ferocity of a bona fide Hellhound. Sitting back on her calves and wiping her mouth, Brie admires the taste of her handler still sitting on her tongue, wanting to touch herself but knowing that it wouldn't be appropriate in her superior's presence. "It's... no bother. I-I'm glad I could make you feel good." 

"Of course you are. You're just lucky it's so quiet today, for such a rough girl you don't half have a soft face, soft enough to ride anyway." Handler rubs a thumb over her pet's cheek and the girl blushes, her lip finally starting to heal now that doubt no longer haunts her every action. Brie simply sighs, smiles, and nuzzles that black touch that robs her of any identity other than pet. 

_{"I still hate you..."}

Handler laughs and tousles Brie's hair, reaching for the muzzle and securing it back in place with a hum. "Some enemies take longer to destroy than others, I'm just glad to see you so well behaved. It must be hard for you, girl, to be helplessly controlled by a woman you claim to loathe." Commander Black doesn't blame her pet and Brie feels her heart flutter at how understanding she can be, in her warped presence of mind. 

"Mm... can I see her now?" That fluttering heart instead begins to pound as the excited Hellhound hops up onto her feet and catches sight of herself in the mirror on the wall. She's unrecognisable, those blunt uniform bangs giving way to eyes that, while excited in this moment, hold no lustre. They are the eyes of a thing playing at person, a pet since tamed. Dark circles hold those dulled eyes in frame, emerging from sleepless nights and constant exertion that leaves her little rest. The eyes themselves are bloodshot from training, pupils still dilated from the constant periodic drugging that leaves her neck riddled with needle marks and her body ever flush. Her body shudders with spikes of pleasure that hit at random intervals, she's only ever able to hold steady when inside of her cockpit. Yesterday, or maybe earlier today Brie cannot rightly say, she was given the chance to pilot a real machine in the field. That handler trusts her so much makes Brie feel self loathing for that enemy inside of her who still spites the woman she obeys. 

"You may, Brie, I left a strap on the table as a reward for your hard work. I trust you know how to use it?" 

"Oh, aha... of course." Brie grins within her muzzle, excitement growing now that she'll be better able to fuck her plaything and regain some sense of dominance in this teetering act that keeps her under thumb. "Thank you, sir..." 

"Good girl, run along now, I can see you're begging to return to her and have your fun. Seems so long ago that you still saw her as anything but a fucktoy, hm? Remember your rescue mission Brie?" 

The pet lowers its head and fiddles with the straps of her harness, leather covering her body now but still leaving her as nude as any animal should be. She loves the way the straps of this body harness hug her toned flesh, spelling the difference between her slab of well packaged meat and the soft toy that currently awaits her with suspense. No, suspension, tied up via hook screwed into the ceiling of their playroom. "Destroy the enemy... I'm not a hero so... d-don't care about that..."

"Mhm, very good. I'll be seeing you later for your dosage, but you're free for now." 

Free? Brie snorts, stepping out of her cell and picking up the pace as she returns to the former interrogation room, pushing open the door and eyeing up the strap on the table. "Right where I left you~" The sudden domme chuckles, imitating her commander eerily well as she takes a few steps towards the table and runs her fingers over the length of black silicone attached to yet another leather harness. Nicole Black must be going through a serious bondage phase in her middle age, though judging by that pretty toy suspended from the ceiling for her viewing pleasure, so must Brie. The toy cannot speak, ball-gag filling its mouth and causing to to salivate onto its own tits in the position Brie tied it up into with handler's guidance. 

As Brie equips the strap with impatient touch, peculiar muscle memory carries her through the process on auto-pilot. Without needing to pay too much attention to those familiar hands that work away at securing harness, Brie's eyes return to her collaborative handiwork with Handler, thick rope hanging down from the ceiling attaching to tight cuffs around the suspended toy's ankles. The plaything's legs are held together by straps and Brie's eyes trace down their length until reaching that perfectly round bottom, bare and still sore from earlier's play, large handprint red against sunless pale moon. Eyes trail back up to where that suspended body curls back upwards, chunky leather straps holding the toy in her state of compaction with masked face returned upright to sit by her knees, belt around the back of said knees and the girl's neck to hold her in place. Perhaps Brie's favourite detail in this lurid display is those arms bound behind her back, with pretty golden rope handler helped her pick out special. It's the same shining amber as that drug obliterating her shame, making her feel such power at her fingertips but only when appropriate and of course, permitted. 

If this position isn't perfect for the strap, Commander Black's new pet doesn't know what is. She approaches with that high beginning to overtake her, running bare hands over bare skin and feeling delighted by the way her toy reacts with pleasured shuddering, shaking the rope and rocking gently as a result. Brie steadies her with strong touch that feels even stronger still, hollowed out by Supernova kisses that make her feel like a superhero again. 

"Sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, flower, but I'm here for you now." It's not exactly the context in which Brie had intended to speak these words at the start of the week, but she can't fight the euphoric rush that hits her when the thrashing toy settles down and reminds her that all this softness, this warmth, is just for her. "Even like this, you're just as cute as always. So cute I could eat you~" Fully given into her role as twisted toymaster, a pet to a being even greater than she, Brie sinks playful teeth into that ass staring her down. Leaving her mark, she kisses up those legs raised up towards the ceiling and revels in the power she holds over this thing that had dispatched her so swiftly during their skirmish. Brie realises now that she didn't need that damn procedure, that she was held back by weak attunement when her piloting skill with the manual controls are second to none... or so she'd like to boast. 

Brie's toy makes the cutest little sounds even through her gag. With body folded in half and suspended by her ankles, she looks more at home than she ever did on her feet or even her knees. A weapon might need the use of its legs but a fucktoy? She only needs ease of access, Brie's nail tracing over slick folds proving that she has just that. Lining the head of the strap against that pretty flower opening up for her so sweetly, Brie eases just an inch inside to let the toy know what's happening. Even with just the head inside her plaything mewls into her gag and tightens around the soft toy set to bring her pleasure and pain. Brie laments that this isn't quite as exhilarating as Handler's glass strap, recalling yesterday's temperature play along with the claiming of her anal virginity, the pet wishing she could give her toy half the thrill that Handler brings her now that she's begun to accept that accursed woman's corruptive touch a little too freely. How can she not, when it brings her such Joy?

"You're gonna love this, I-I used to fuck my girl like this all the damn time and the noises she made were just like yours, aha... the shit she would squeal while I pinned her down and gave her the loving of a lifetime..." Possessive hands grip the suspended plaything's hips as drool spills from the gag onto its pretty chest and bated breath falls against its rosy knees. "She... nngh..." Brie reacts like it's really her cock inside of the girl as she pulls the plaything down onto her in a fine mount, seeing if she can't lift her some for show. "She was like a f-fucking breeding bunny, and oh how that got me going..." Even the pet isn't sure what she's talking about, the first and last girlfriend she ever remembers having 'acted like a corpse' in the bedroom, she remembers them having an argument in which some stupid man she'd rather not recall made a comment about his girlfriend having 'three times the baggage of an ordinary human and a third of the fun'. "Filled her with rope after rope when I still had the plumbing... fffuck... and then I more than made up for it with the strap when I decided I no longer cared for my cock as much as I thought I did." 

"Mmmghh... ehlffyhou..." Groans the good toy, body swinging back and forth from that hook in the ceiling with each firm thrust, Brie growing bolder in her ministrations by the second. Eventually they fall into a steady rhythm, the toy continuing to pant out the same tired, pathetic sound with each deep thrust as she paints her chest with spit. "Ehlffyhou... ehlffyhou... ehlffyhou!" Her moans are surprisingly consistent, but Brie likes the ring... even if she's no longer wearing hers. 

One more thrust and the lights in the room begin to flash red, siren blaring as the base alerts all to the presence of a perimeter breach. Brie's heart wrenches at the fact that she has to stop playing with her toy and yet, at the same time, a dark excitement wells in her chest to replace the disappointment. It's not that Brie is thrilled at the prospect of killing Envy's forces after they were so hospitable, but... she has to destroy the enemy. It feels good to perform for her commander, Brie recalling that pleasant sound that tells her she's done a good job and blushing more than she had been already. They're just enemies in need of a swift destruction, Brie will gladly be their Charon into that swirling empty they're all lost in the orbit of already.

"Mmh... sorry, guess I gotta pull out." A rough hand strokes over such softness one last time, over red mark in the same exact shape. The toy whines, predictably, while Brie itches to get into that cockpit even if she knows she shouldn't. It'll be her first taste of proper action in the field and better still, it's just self defence right? Brie has a right to defend this sick paradise Nicole has got her hooked on. Taught to love that wheel she had scorned so strongly only weeks ago in that tower. Pushing her plaything until the last inch of silicone exits her drooling slit, Brie turns at the sound of the door being opened behind her and finds those slightly hunched shoulders instinctively straightening in anticipation of Her. The woman she still claims to hate, whose orders so easily turn her against those she once saw as the lesser of two evils. 

Commander Black steps into the room with her usual confident swagger, not appearing particularly hurried by the blaring noise that signals breach. It's as though she doesn't even care at all, as though she'd be content to see this place fall and think nothing of it. The contradiction gives Brie a headache when she considers how much effort has gone into so many of her prior decisions, so the Hellhound decides not to think about it at all. She craves orders like a hungry pack animal desperate to be sent on the hunt, fidgeting with the leather straps of her body harness as Nicole drinks in the sight of that well built body she's laid claim to. 

"Hellhound, you can go as you are. I'll get this thing into a bodysuit and have it join you, I suppose we could always use an extra pilot and it's still far more competent than you are when all's said and done." The woman steps closer to clip the leash in her grip onto Brie's collar, the suddenly meek beast glancing back at the suspended plaything worriedly. 

"W-Wait, she's not a weapon anymore, right? I can handle the enemy by myself, I'm--"

"Speaking above your station. Do you need reminding of your place here, pet? It's at my feet, I can see I made a mistake in not breaking you in completely. I can give you more potent substances than Supernova, you know? Chemicals to clean your mind, have you lose speech, forget your past. Starting tomorrow I'll be mixing it up. A powerful amphetamine with a healthy dose of love drug mixed in loosened you up for me considerably, and it certainly comes in handy during battle... but doped up on its opiate sister you'll be a very different animal. Truly subhuman at last." Handler yanks the leash and Brie stumbles forwards, snarling up at the woman she swore shaky allegiance to as that dead star before her assesses the creature's current loyalty. 

"Th-That's... I never agreed to that... sir." Brie cannot help but show respect, the simulator hammered it into her head during yesterday's six hour session, a rank and file affair. Her eyes burn with dying flames, her passion running on empty. "I... like how things are now... s-so, I'll be good and destroy the enemy and--"

"Do you know what an owner is supposed to do when their dog is begging? You remind the needy thing that it is a domesticated pet, it can grow fat on its owners whim or by the same virtue it can starve. The dog doesn't choose, see? It has its meals chosen for it, along with every other facet of its existence. Is it a miserable existence, then? No no, it's a happy one. As you are right now Brie, giving me this sulk I didn't ask for... you're still far too fucking human. Where did I say your place was, again?" Nova's tone is harsh, intimidating the woman unable to pull back with leash wrapped around gloved hand keeping her close. 

Gulping and detesting herself for the textbook show of weakness, the once proud woman nervously chatters teeth within the confines of her muzzle, the alarm still blaring as the both of them ignore that urgent call to action. "You said... at your feet. But I-I'm not so--"

"Stop thinking so much, it's going to be the death of you girl." Handler chuckles and reaches around the back of Brie's head to unclasp the muzzle, slipping it free from her Hellhound's face to inspect that blushing mess that still thinks it has any right to play defiant in the final act. "Your place is at your owner's feet." With a swift motion Nova brings the toe of her boot crashing into Brie's right shin, the braced leg buckling immediately and bringing the woman down onto her knees in front of her owner, gasping with her body held upright by that leashed grip. 

_{"Destroy the enemy..."} Mutters the defiant pilot, attempting to push back her own rebellion and remind herself that this is good for her. 

"I can spare another few minutes before my presence is required in the war room and our heavy hitters are needed out there at the perimeter, so I want to prove your loyalty to me if you want to be included. You don't want to miss all the action confined to your crate, do you?" The woman pushes her boot forwards and Brie shakes her head in shame, haven gotten herself all worked up already at the prospect of breaking something herself for once, a respite from being the one methodically broken as she plays spectator to her own decline. "Then go ahead and shine my boots with your tongue, I can tell by the way you tense up around me that despite your fighting words, just like that toy behind you... you've begun to worship the very ground I walk on. It's only natural, there's no need to feel shame. I was people's hero before I even wore a cape, that humans were born with equal footing is a cruel myth dear, my magnetism is simply second to none. I was never a particularly charming person and yet people just can't help but fawn over me." 

Brie feels her head alight with fresh tingles, the domspace she had been enjoying replaced with the most potent subspace of her life. Handler's confidence is overflowing, Brie understands better than the woman herself that such golden self-esteem is likely a large contributing factor to how she has such sway on others. The qualities of a great leader, wasted on a woman with a heart blacker than the deep corners of space. Eyes bugging out against those abyssal boots staring back up at her, Brie dips down with that leash now loosened, reluctance losing against her altered state. That tongue which had so confidently teased the gagged toy moments prior now lolls out obediently and drags along its master's hard leather footwear, acceptance increasing tenfold the moment it makes contact. It's so much easier to keep submitting when you've already made the plunge, Brie glancing up at her handler to see if she's making the woman happy. 

"I didn't say you could touch yourself, pet." Nova chuckles and Brie feels mortified at the words, pulling her hand away from her crotch with a low whine as she considers the fact that she hadn't even noticed herself doing that... why would she be getting off to this? The Supernova kisses goodnight to her sense of self, making even a humiliating act of worship feel so erotic and fulfilling. Her tongue drags across the other boot and Brie feels herself sinking into submissive bliss she had managed to deny even with handler's strap in her ass, even with her tongue filling the woman's cunt... somehow this is far more sexual and loyal than either. In her compromised headspace, Brie begins to truly enjoy tending to her commander's boots, like she's finally useful to this woman who has given her so much. 

"Sir... I'm really... my head's really..." Fluffy and light, liberated, Brie experiencing for the first time in her life a true desire to be dominated completely. She's already surrendered herself, but her old self had been hanging on.

"Let's really scatter those thoughts, hm? I can make time for you." Nicole Black pulls the leash back up once determining that her boots have been sufficiently polished with her pet's spit, Brie listening to the utterly hypnotic sound of the older woman's pants being unzipped. With firm grip, Brie's face is pulled deep into handler's crotch, nose pressing into damp underwear a surprising white to contrast all that black she wears over it. Breathing in deep, Brie's shoulders sag and she shifts forwards on her knees, her head held tight against the other's sex as it infects her mind. As Nicole holds her there, Brie unable to pull away even if she wanted to, a simple obsession begins to grow without any words even needing to be exchanged. Nicole knows her beast well enough to know just how easily controlled she is by scent, like a true hound. To Brie, this woman feels like a giant, and the intimacy of such rich air filling her lungs has her eyes hooding and body burning. "If you needed any proof that watching you fall for me is getting me off just as much as it is yourself, here it is. I was planning on changing my underwear after this given what you've done to it, so..."

Mesmerised by this woman she keeps forgetting to resist, Brie watches as Nicole black pushes those panties down and drops them around freshly licked boots. Pushing the mutt away with unfeeling leather against its face, handler leans down to collect the twisted fabric slick with passion, stuffing it deep into the leather muzzle in her hand and grinning at her handiwork. "Something to remind you of your home, while you're out there considering some ill conceived escape plan. Who cares if I'm lying about the collar tech when you've my scent carrying you back to me, hm~?" 

Brie's arousal spikes higher than ever before, even higher than when she's playing with her toy directly after a fresh injection. She watches with rapid heartrate as the muzzle draws nearer, Commander Black securing it around her face and clasping it in place. At first, the pet holds its breath, not out of rebellion but nervousness. When she finally breathes in, her eyes lightly flutter and the woman petting her hair can't help but giggle at the amusing display. 

"Now, off to war."

Chapter Six: Descending Wings of Death and Rebirth

Hangar bay lights flicker on in rows and Brie shuffles forwards on her feet, placating herself feebly with that scent that keeps her well behaved better than anything else so far. Still unable to get over the advancements in warfare during the short gap in her memories she'd be questioning the true length of were she not too distracted by simpler thoughts, Brie admires that hulking weapon in front of her that spells an end to the age of supers. Brie's shell is slightly different to the others in that she shares a title with the metal beast itself: Hellhound. It's written 'Hell Hound' on the side of the hulking chassis, while the word above Brie's hip holds no space. The pet was so high on Supernova when handler gave her the brand that Brie felt almost no pain at all, at least not in any negative sense. 

"Hey slacker, those enemy reinforcements aren't gonna wipe themselves out! I'm probably the best pilot we have even if I'm just a toy now, hehe, so you just watch my back okay?" The toy returns with a familiar, almost nostalgic look, neoprene bodysuit zipped up at the back with arms bound behind its back, a sliver of stomach on show and red bomber jacket draped over her shoulders. A few accolades are pinned onto the jacket's breast pocket, making Brie snort as something primal within her urges the beast to assert dominance. 

"Wipe that smile off your face, toy. You're mine now, remember? So... I want you to show me some respect." The looming threat of total oblivion hangs over Brie's slipping head, Nova speaking of a sister drug that will accelerate her downfall until she'll no longer be able address this toy so confidently. 

With demure lipbite, the pretty plaything blushes and nods, indicating that it had only been goading Brie into putting it in its place. Brie cups the ace pilot's chin with her fingers and wishes she could kiss those lips that drive her so crazy, wondering if she'd even be able to control herself at all if the top half of that face weren't permanently hidden away. 

"Let's... give 'em hell?" 

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Initiating start-up sequence. Good afternoon, Brie! Ready to make your commander proud?" A cheery voice plays directly into her mind the moment Brie plugs those cables into her neck and secures their connection.

"Uhm, hey Holly. No gag today, so that's nice. Dunno how well I'll be able to fight without you-know-what, but... oh, speaking of which. Do you know anything about a sister drug? To the Supernova stuff, I mean... aha... I'm a bit nervous, so--"

"I'm just a navigator, hon, I'm not even a real person. I think that as long as you trust your handler completely, nothing can go wrong. Remember yesterday's simulation? It was all about that trust, bond, have you been struggling with it again?" 

"No, I just... I'm just a little scared about not being me anymore, y'know?" Brie grips the manual controls, knowing that she's better with the hands on approach while that toy enjoys the fancier psychic link. 

There's a short pause before the Hell Hound's navigator responds, Brie not sure whether its tone sounds more sympathetic or amused. "Oh Brie, I think that ship sailed a while ago. You don't even know your last name."

"Uh... it's... it's--

"Ready to depart, Miss it's!" There's a low thrum from the engine, Brie turning to look over at the Red Rook, which extends a thumbs up signal with chrome hand. 

"Y-Yeah, let's go." Shaking off the cobwebs of failed memory, Brie accelerates herself forwards out of the hangar and drops those giant legs onto the asphalt, watching as that unleashed weapon rushes ahead despite her good behaviour earlier and electing to follow with exasperated sigh. The radar display shows her red triangles just like this is training, Brie repeating the words "Destroy the enemy." under her breath over and over in a chant to keep herself sharp and ready. As she watches the Rook draw its oversized magnum and blow sizeable hole into the stray before them that broke past front line, Brie suddenly realises that this enemy looks nothing like the crafts manned by Envy's forces...

The twisted metal drops down onto wet asphalt as the two make for a rainbow overhead, Brie glancing down at that mechanical corpse with a pit in her stomach that tells her she's still too in the dark. A thing like that appears automated, an unmanned drone unable to hide any kind of cockpit within the strange helix of steel. Rings of overlapping metal that spin and fluctuate descend upon the pair and Brie feels herself hesitating, not even sure what she's looking at even when the radar tells her these are their targets. They do not have limbs, nor heads, but the Rook takes aim at the cores within those spinning rings and ruptures them without pause. As the enemy begins to open fire on the pilot who has already cut into their numbers before needing to switch out weapons, Brie's toy weaves between their burst fire with inhuman precision and the Hellhound realises why that red goliath is never in need of repairs. It simply can't be hit... she remembers hearing much the same of Murmur's piloting, the two bringing her shame as bullet fire eats into her raised arm and Brie reels back to see another variant of attacker. This machine appears larger than the others, similarly inhuman with metal wings grafted to its core all over, spreading out and overlapping in all directions. It releases a high frequency hum, Brie releasing her controls to clutch her head and Holly's voice breaking up as she tries to issue advice. 

After a few seconds the sound fades, though the ringing in Brie's ears certainly does not, the woman gripping her controls as she notices how the smaller attackers have become much more aggressive, serrated edges whirring in preparation to enter melee range and tear the two to shreds. "What the hell is this... Holly, I don't under--"

DESTROY THE ENEMY

Brie is grounded by her orders, gripping her submachine gun and swinging it at her hip to push the enemy back, bullets that must be bigger than her head ricocheting back and damaging her sensors. "Fuck... fuck..." 

Panic seizes her in the face of an overwhelming number of attackers, that fear of her own death holding her back from engaging with them effectively. 

"Memento mori, Hellhound. One day you must die, that's a given, so why fear doing so in my name hm? In service for your handler?" Commander Black's voice plays through Brie's head and she breathes deep that cloying, heady scent as the words prepare her for war. "You're thinking too much. A good war dog doesn't need to think at all, only fight. So here, pet, destroy the enemy for me now."

A tiny metal arm extends down from the top of the cage keeping Brie locked into her cockpit, administering a shot of liquid gold focus into her neck that has her panting into the stuffy space. It's the most concentrated dose she's ever been given, Supernova kissing goodnight to ego completely as that sense of invincibility takes a hold. The shot makes her feel like a hero, Brie rushing forwards as that rookie named Mare often would and using overwhelming strength, weight, to pin down and destroy the enemy. Snarling, vicious laughter echoes through the Hell Hound's cockpit as Brie unleashes her fury upon all of those who would threaten her new existence. This intense rush, this combat trance, is enough to distract Brie from those edges slicing into the limbs of her mechanical frame. The link gives her access to its artificial nervous system, but the pain of that tearing metal passes her by as she carries onwards and sinks her sonic knife into exposed core after prying one of these monsters open. Bloodshed becomes sport, Brie leaning forwards as far as her cage allows while huffing Nicole's lust like a rabid animal, obsession and adrenaline taking over.

The Red Rook, a knight capable of tearing through armoured cars and tanks like they're plasticine models, sinks explosive round after round into its enemies without a single cutting ring so much as making contact with it. One would assume the pilot a dancer, when the truth is far stranger, at her current 'sync rate' predicting the actions of small fodder like this is child's play now. 

With more enemy reinforcements at the river's edge and Brie's frame beginning to fall apart, it suddenly occurs to the panting hound that she might really die here, grinning with a mad look in her eyes that says "Bring it on." 

Blip.

A green triangle appears at the top right corner of Brie's radar, indicating an ally as detected by the navigator that manages these things. The only other ally on her display is the Rook, which is much closer over to her left. With a blink, Brie almost chokes at the radar display showing that newcomer having cut half way across city outskirts from the edge of the radar close to the centre. Such speed...

"Mrs. Black won't like it but... I called for reinforcements, you two are struggling too much and... I think she might really be content to let you die out here." Holly sounds a little too emotional to say she claimed not to be a real person, though Brie realises she's starting to feel that way herself and she still has plenty emotion. 

"There's... only one..." Brie struggles to make her Hell Hound move, thrashing the controls with breathless desperation as the attackers bore into her metal body like buzzsaws.

Holly giggles, the radar blip getting too close too fast. "For this crowd, only one is required! I tried to tell you but that signal cut me off... take out the commander in the middle and these things drop with it, they're a hivemind, part of a greater whole. A pretty boring one though, if you ask us... I-I mean, ehe, if you ask me." 

"Helena?" Knowing that she recognised that voice from somewhere, Brie tries to piece together why Nova's forces would have Hive as a navigator also. That she tried to hide it with that awful performance that only had her fooled because of her impaired mental state... 

"FWOOOOM!" Before Brie can let her mind dwell on this any further she feels the very ground begin to shake and peers up at cream coloured wings accented in dark bronze. Cameo Moth descends without a shred of artillery, instead clutching superheated chakram in each of its four hands. Like a surgeon of death, the machine that almost appears an organic creature from this distance slices off the enemy commander's wings and brings it down to the ground. Legs crouch and dig talons into the grounded attacker, the Moth launching its chakrams like discuses into the encroaching infantry. Brie is transfixed by the sight of battle unlike any she has ever witnessed outside the confines of fiction, watching as the mechanical moth sinks its claws deep into that mass of metal below it, tearing out its core and watching the light flicker and die. With her own current animal instincts yet seizing her, Brie half expects the strange creature piloted by Envy's doll lieutenant to gorge itself upon the spoils in its grip. 

Adult silk moths do not eat, their mouthparts simply no longer function for such a purpose. They rely only upon the fat reserves gained during their larval period, much as Misty Black had built all the foundation that doll is capable of claiming. 

With the connection severed upon the death of that strange enemy commander, Brie watches as each monstrosity drops dead, though reminds herself they were never truly alive to begin with. The enemy has been destroyed, with the assistance of one she had assumed their target. Nothing makes sense anymore and to Brie, who breathes in deep and lets the Supernova take her away from all this madness, they really needn't bother to explain.

All she wants now, craves more than anything, is to be back home.

Finale: An Eternity in Black

Classical music fills the room as Brie lays upon a metal table, naked, staring up into the bright light overhead. It's no skylight, there's only one sun here that shines for her. Voices fill the room in a muffled back and forth that the dazed pet is far too distant to process, days have come and gone since she was first introduced to that gold drug's silver counterpart. A white dwarf star cools within her chest, stellar remnant of the woman she once was. The memory has become lost in all that Black, hot flush of pain and regret that lets go forever with a wistful smile. They part amicably, Brie smiling as they finish administering her dose and handler sits her up, strokes her cheek. It's so nice... being this owned. The nurses leave the two alone, appearing eager to get out of their hair.

"I think my pet likes Chopin even better than Satie, hm?" Brie's owner has no need for performative smugness at this stage, proving that she really is just this full of herself as she pets the docile creature in front of her. That silver opiate floods Brie with more dopamine than she could ever need, killing all pain and bringing only pleasure. It severely hinders her ability to think clearly, however, making it oh so difficult for her to conjure any coherent response to her owner's question. With relaxation and happiness replacing her sense of awareness, Brie simply pushes her cheek into that hand with fluttering eyes and melts into the gloved touch she's come to adore. "That's my good girl, though I'd feel a little silly calling you a Hellhound when you're like this. For once in your life you might actually pass for cute, all drugged and mine."

Brie lightly nods into the possessive touch, having forgotten any of the reasons she would have once held to resist such a claiming on her soul. "Yhouurs..." Groans the animal, speech slipping away from it with every dosage even if that golden sister can make a fighter of her whenever they need her to destroy their foes. Brie likes fighting, it means she gets extra reward later... like that other one, with the ginger hair... 

"I'm glad that you decided to agree to all of this Brie, it wouldn't be the first time though... maybe this time we've snuffed the conceited motives for good. I'd hoped to be wrong, but... I told you we were running on borrowed time and the reaper's recompense draws near. We're all going to die very soon, Brie, a curtain call that spans the rest of time. They want me out there in my Gala, the both of you too, rubbing shoulders with my estranged spouse and the rest of Envy's ilk. I've worked tirelessly on my own solution, a thankless job when I'd abandon the here and now for another then. Aha... look at you, too docile to care much for what I tell you, it's truly something special to behold." Nicole Black removes her cap and closes teeth around gloved fingertip to remove the black leather from her hand. With a snap of her fingers, the shape of Joy Williams enters the room with mask covering its face forevermore. It makes no difference really, her eternity in black simply started a little earlier than the rest of theirs. 

"In the final hour, or so, of our time here on this disappointing planet... I'm going to do something truly unforgiveable. I was never such a heartless woman, truly, but the times have changed me." Nicole runs those naked fingers through her own blonde hair, pushing aside those hanging knives and giving a wry smile to the ghosts filling the room with her. "Hop up onto the table, rifle." 

Nicole had no need for her tool's personality today, all that feigned emotion, and so the thing simply does as its told with a neutral smile while Brie drops her head onto its shoulder to enjoy the different scent. It's one of her favourites.

"Now, my Hellhound... the halcyon days are over." Snap!

Brie's eyes shoot wide open and at the same moment, a muted thud sounds out behind Joy Williams on the table. Still high on White Dwarf shot, Brie trembles within her bounds as she slowly lifts her head to look upon the lower jaw of her companion on the table. She's so well conditioned now, her brain chemistry altered, but the returned memories still haunt Brie and take control of those muted emotions. She swallows, bone dry, lips quivering to try and make words that never seem to come.

"I was sceptical when you signed up for my project, Brie, given all I know of your... difficult history. That cyclops still watched me like a hawk while we were in the early stages, so I couldn't simply probe your mind and have you admit your intended treachery... but ah, I thought you'd have some ulterior motive... stubborn. How does it feel to remember everything now? If only you could wrestle that tongue into giving me a piece of your mind, hm? Or perhaps you'd better spend these last moments telling that girl whose memories are much less recoverable just how much she means to you. Meant to you? Ahahaha, you ungrateful shit, really soak this in for me." That face aged by time and work simpers in self-satisfied glee, Nova no longer having to hold back just how self indulging she's become since her fall from that tower. 

The tamed hothead grits her teeth and does her best to ignore the sick woman's gloating, shaky hand raising up to turn Joy's face towards her, another caressing her back like it's the most precious thing in the world to her. When Brie's fingers make contact with the strange something that hangs down from Joy's back, they curl around it as gears begin turning in the doped pet's mind. A simple thought, an idea, not a very smart one she'd later concede. 

"You're lucky, Brie, unlike her you won't have to remember any of this. This was all just for her... and I'll admit I let the indulgences take it a little further, I feel I'm owed my catharsis before the curtain comes down. I want you to know that it's working, though. I'll let you have that much. You saw it yourself, didn't you? She's plateaued at 66% but that's already exceeding expectations, perhaps she's as special as you seem to think she is." Nicole sighs, checking her watch impatiently.

Despite her reduction, Brie holds onto the burning memory returned to her and makes the most complicated decision yet in a lifetime of complicate decisions. There's no telling if what she thinks might happen actually will, and there's no telling if the choice is made in the hopes of helping or hindering the future. It's an impulse driven action from a pet who can't decide if it loves or hates its owner, who has been reminded of a long lost motivation. Of gold and flower and regret. 

While Nova is distracted, waiting for the midnight bells, Brie inserts that limp tendril into her neck.

Epilogue: A Garden of Pews

Feet sink into grass long dead, Brie wading through the weeds in this neglected mental space to find the object of her desire, entering a garden whose very owner had been conditioned to think didn't exist. As she pushes through the grass, Joy's orchard gives way to rows of benches. Brie's sluggish movement carries her slowly past pews, glassy eyes raising to inspect the broken arches of the dilapidated church she wanders into. Even severed from her body and the drug that courses through it, Brie feels herself a changed woman on account of Nova's machinations. Fists clench and the once proud woman wonders if she'll even be able to face the woman she seeks were she to find what's left. 

The pews sit in dark weeds, covered in heavy coating of dust that brings Brie a deep sense of regret. A woman walks the aisle, alone and forgotten. Standing at the altar is a wax statue, no, a candle, its disembodied legs slowly disappearing as the wick burns bright in this dim twilight. No hands to hold, no vows to give, Brie averts her eyes from the flickering flame and sets her gaze upon the door at the back of the church. It is not the kind of door one would expect to find in a building such as this, nor does it fit an interior at all. Facing her, innocuous despite its ill-fitting placement, is the front door of a suburban house. It is the same door that the rifle had once imagined Brie exiting through as she left for the hangar. In reality, of course, Brie had not left of her own accord, whisked away by Sage as she refused to let go of her Hope. An overlapping of memory isn't uncommon in somebody whose mind has been dismantled and rebuilt more times than a veteran's rifle. 

Driven onwards by lingering sentiments of memories unearthed like buried treasure in Handler's pettiness, Brie stumbles past wax and curls fingers around the door handle. This is a front door, so naturally it should be facing outside. Brie supposes, with a ghost of a smile, that in its dilapidated state with no roof this place is now an outdoor area too. As she turns the handle, grateful to find it unlocked, Brie slowly pushes the door open with sudden nerves seizing her. Even so, she cannot stop proceeding onwards, pulled by a different kind of leash to the one Commander Black had led her along by. 

"Mommy!" A girl who only comes up to Brie's thigh makes excited approach and Brie quickly looks down to make sure she's clothed, finding herself overdressed if anything, in smart black trousers and matching dinner jacket. The small girl gives her best attempt at a hug from her altitude and Brie would scoff if she weren't so paralysed, looking out into the average looking home with a vague sense of longing. 

"Is..." Brie's words catch in her throat, speech having been slowly trained out of her over the past few days that felt like months. "Is... ahnyone else home?" Her eyes refuse to leave the girl, reddish blonde hair and light freckles, red-framed glasses that certainly spell a statement in this dull neighbourhood. A smile brighter than a supernova.

"Mm... mom's downstairs, in the basement. Let's go say hi!" Pulled along by tiny but determined hands, Brie crosses the threshold of the doorway fully and the house fills with music, her favourite composition. A melancholic movement, as delicate and beautiful as the woman it always makes her think of. Her interest in such music had been vicarious enjoyment at first, her other half having taken up piano as a salve from all that had happened to her, a need to feel good at something again resulting in her picking back up the one thing she was half decent at in her youth. Nicole had been so close to playing her the right movement, too, but made a simple mistake. Outside of listening to her partner play directly, Brie would usually listen to Claude Debussy's orchestrations of Erik Satie's Gymnopedies in which the order of the movements had been reversed. Playing now, from downstairs keys that weigh Brie's chest with lead, is the third and final movement, the one that she finds too compelling to deny the pull of. Led by the hand of an imagined little girl, Brie finds her way to basement steps and pales at the sound of such desolate notes. 

Each step down has Brie's heart aching more, trying to convince herself that she's awoken from a long undue nightmare. Undone by that wraith of the past. Clammy hand closes gently around one so small and fragile, Brie led down to the source of that sombre playing. The sight should have been expected and still, it shakes her like its the very first time. 

Sitting on a piano stool in the middle of their empty basement is the orchard's creator, Joy Williams, playing dutifully without expression on her face and dressed in matching suit to Brie. The piano itself is nowhere to be seen, her perfectly playing fingers hovering in the air in front of her attached to strings that reach up past the starry sky that should rightly be a ceiling. Her fingers pull upon the constellations in her mind, begging for direction, while the entity that would seek to rob her of this autonomy looms behind her ever present. Brie takes in the sight of an enemy she cannot destroy, apocalyptic machine taken human form. Doll joints bend as they sink metal fingers into Joy's shoulders, that mask wearing a smile as empty as its victim's eyes.

The being that calls itself angel looks up at Brie and the woman feels herself unable to descend another step, watching cautiously as that mechanical body lowers down to whisper something into the pianist's ear. Joy nods and looks relieved, tired eyes blinking as she stops her playing and the music goes on without her. With a look that inadvertently tortures the usually confident butch, Joy finally makes eye contact with her and smiles softly. 

"Brie. How long has it been? Has... has Envy been taking care of you? How's Laura doing? Uhm... does everyone still hate me?" It's her, Joy, buried deep within this long lost garden. Still, she sounds no less pathetic than that rifle had, at the end of the day. 

Brie cannot respond, not because she's at a loss for words, nor out of any unsettled nerves. No, there's a glowing red gaze at Joy's back that compels Brie into silence, commands her mouth shut even as she's permitted to reach the basement floor at last. 

"It was... hard for me, too. You know?" Joy continues speaking when she realises Brie is giving her the silent treatment, lips pouting so cutely even if the words are like razor wire to the woman receiving them. "You're the one who left..."

Still unable to argue back in an exchange she had expected to be much sweeter, Brie isn't sure how much more she can take of this, entering that empty space where phantom piano had been played, rough hand slapping the petulant thing before her. Angel hisses and Joy holds her cheek, blinking rapidly. 

"We'll find a way to make it right, flower... but you have to try too." The stubborn woman speaks in defiance of that threatening red glower, watching masked mouth contort into a jagged smile. 

...

"Your time is up, child, there's nothing left up there already." Speaks the mechanised doll, its distorted tone jarring to Brie and yet, oh so serene to the fractured thing between them. "There's nothing left here worth saving, either..." The enemy sinks cables into the back of Joy's head, opening up her mind and taking control of the dead orchard they occupy. A booming voice, no longer quite so distorted now that it speaks directly through Joy, reminds Brie that come what may... this life is a merry-go-round.

"Even Death Cannot Break The Wheel."

To be continued in episode 4 - You Are (Not) a Person