When Finitevus returned from his brief Christmas holiday to continue work on understanding the intricacies and minutiae of the Chaos Force, he found the lights off, equipment broken, and shelves shoved against the windows in an attempt to keep the light out. His first thought was that the lab had been broken into and robbed. That wasn't such a big concern. They had large federal grants and could easily replace things. It then occurred to him that he had left his little assistant when he went off to enjoy his holiday, the younger assuring him that he had ways of busying himself in the interim. What if Egon had been hurt? A moan coming from one of the darker regions of the ransacked lab alerted him to the presence of another. "Bright..." the voice whined. Finitevus immediately looked to that direction. It was Egon's voice. He sounded like he was in pain. The doctor searched out the dark recesses of the lab, faintly able to catch the next pathetic little mewl. "Hurts..." He hesitantly closed the door, allowing the darkness to reclaim the lab. Yes, it seemed like shelves had been purposefully shoved so as to block light from coming in... He noticed a figure approaching, crawling unsteadily along the ground as if it were unused to motion, or to the surroundings. The albino tried to quell the alarm rising in his chest, but was instead surprised when he could finally make out the features of the other. Egon... the poor assistant shaking and shuddering in the cold of the labs, labcoat tattered and insubstantial, and blue-white eyes staring out at him blankly. His heart sank like a rock. "Egon..." All the pain in the world was evident in his voice. What had become of him? What had happened to leave the lab in such a state, and... and to damage his assistant so? He dropped to his knees, a smooth motion. At least the other Echidna's head followed his motion, though it didn't seem like he was looking directly at him. Those blind white eyes were disconcerting. He felt his own welling up with pitiful tears of anguish and frustration. The child was cold without the presence of the heating unit, which had apparently been turned off or damaged. Fur and coat were insufficient for the winter's bite. Who knew how long he had been in this condition, crawling around on the floor in the broken glass, trying to keep warm, trying to find a way out with senses that no longer worked? Finitevus gathered him into a hug, making sure that his cloak managed to cover him. Within moments, the shuddering seemed to pull back to a more subdued shiver, warmth flooding his body. "Egon?" One paprika ear perked up out of thick dreadlocks, and Finitevus internally thanked Aurora for leaving him his hearing. "What happened in here?" The thin frame could barely support himself. He rested his head on Finitevus' shoulder. "... w-w-was working... s-something w-w-w-went w-wrong... everything e-e-exploded... pain... so much p-p-pain... everything t-t-too b-bright... too p-painful... l-lab was..." His lip wobbled. "I... I'm sorry..." Finitevus gave him a wrinkled frown, trying to think of what exactly could have exploded in their lab, and more importantly, what had caused Egon's blindness. It was most important to get him medical attention first, but he didn't want to risk moving him just yet, not without more information. "What were you working on?" The lips that responded were a blue-purple of chill. "E...experimental... Chaos Drive... L-l-like a fusion c-chamber..." The younger Echidna looked away, eyes flicking down in shame, but still too wide, still too unnatural. "Why were you building a Chaos Drive?" The older tried to tease out. It was clear that his little patient didn't have much left in him. He hoped he could get the answer before Egon fainted. It was slow in forthcoming, indicative of his poor health due to exposure and probably the nutritional aspects, in aggrievance to the wounds he likely received during the explosion. "...co....col... lects large a-a-amounts of C.... chaos Energy... I... thought I could be... like you.... wanted to... be like.... you..." As the dead weight of an unconscious person, Egon was disturbingly light for his size. Finitevus had to check him twice to make sure that his assistant hadn't just died on him before hefting his young assistant through a ring and into an Emergency Room for immediate treatment. The statement of intentions nagged at his guilty little heart, though. He wanted to be like him. The scientific fluke; the anomaly - a doctor who became what he was researching, someone who gained powers far beyond any mortal, and used them for the service of science, to further fields like Chaos Theory and Theoretical Physics. He'd often been regarded with hatred, or scorn, or wonderment, or awe... Sometimes children would give him undue hero worship from his occasional exploits: helping put out fires by warping pregnant clouds to the location, or stopping suicide victims, or capturing criminals and transporting them back into prison safely and quickly. He might get admiration and perhaps a little interest from his female fans... and definitely a great deal of respect from those in the scientific community... but in all his years, he had never known anyone to want to be him. His was a lonely road - super-soldier experiments in the Dragon Kingdom produced radiation burns in the shape of unlucky volunteers' silhouettes, and the chance of it happening again, either by the former means and conditions that applied to his own transformation, or any engineered conditions, were infinitesimally small. Egon was lucky to escape alive, if what he said was true. Finitevus couldn't help but feel guilty. He hadn't tried to flaunt his gods-given skills, and he'd tried to allow everyone equal benefit of the power. How was it that he could be so blind to the quiet desires of the one closest to him, some sort of... will to emulate, or maybe even a white jealousy - nothing too harmful, but there anyway. He felt he should have been able to assure Egon that he was special in his own way, and didn't need power to make a presence. Instead, he hadn't even known... hadn't paid attention to him, and his little ward had paid for his negligence... In most aspects, Egon was blind. He didn't seem aware of most of the world. But for whatever reason, he was able to... to sense the presence of the people around them. He had no idea who they were, and he was frightened by their presence, poking and prodding at him, trying to feed him and tend to him. Control was being taken away from him, although he was unable to care for himself as well as he should have been, his environment foreign and blanked from view. Even after a few weeks, he wasn't able to recognize his surroundings enough to walk, though it might have been due to the fact that the orderlies would move the chairs around, change the beddings, or bring yet more potted plants in from Finitevus' supporters. Some days he was so frightened that he could barely speak. The events had clearly traumatized him, and he was getting no care from those that were supposed to care the most. He would resort to crawling to move around, all four limbs feeling around gingerly before making his motions. Nurses would slide his meals to him, and he would have to scramble after them, bumping into whatever was in his way. Thursdays, one old witch of a nurse would put the tray underneath his bed, and the poor dear was never able to reach it quite. Most abominable, though, had to be the lights. Despite the tiny Echidna's whimpers that it was simply too bright for him to deal with, they refused to make any alterations to the lighting, or provide him with any blinds. As long as he was whining about it, they told him, then they were sure that he had at least some eyesight left. How they were going about things, though, made the doctor wonder if he would have any by the time they were through with him, It seemed only the presence of his employer could put him at ease. As soon as Finitevus entered the room, his shoulders would slump, and he would make his way to him as quickly as he could. There was a visible change in his demeanor, from the terror and pain he had been in. He wasn't sure how Egon knew it was him, time and time again, but the child seemed to derive some sort of comfort from his simple companionship. He was surprised at how bestial their treatment had forced Egon to become: just nuzzling him and resting his head on Finitevus' lap was often enough for him. One day, Finitevus found that Egon had been taken to another room, a stark white padded cell with bright, merciless lights, after a nurse had announced that the child found harm from his environment. He doubted it was so much the environment itself as their sick desires to constantly change it on him, and the continual lighting which kept him disoriented with what little eyesight he had. Perhaps a more accurate, if still valid explanation was found when one of the doctors finally confided in him. "Egon has developed some sort of... aural reception to replace his eyesight. His brain is able to sense the distinct energies that come off each person - auras, and identify them. It's pretty incredible. We've never been able to test for positive auralian vision... not before. He's opening new doors of science for the medical community and the world - now that we're pretty certain it exists, we can explore the limits of this vision and the potential repercussions it has for the psychic, military, medical, and physical realms." Something about that statement didn't sit right with the blanched Echidna, especially with how eager the other's tone was. He'd taken his young ward to be treated for his wounds, and have his vision issues corrected, if possible. Some sort of lens to keep what spectrums he had left intact... artificial or cloned eye implants to give him his sight and his life back. Now Egon was locked up in a padded room, kept in constant pain, poked and prodded at - for the scientific community's benefit? Had Finitevus not the power to assert his will, he reflected, he would probably be in the same position, everyone eager to see how this marvelous transformation was brought forward... distilling out his genetic secrets so that everyone could be special, or weaponizing it. "Can't I take him home?" He asked the head of the ward once. The mage presented his case well: Egon wasn't fit to continue living in the hospital. Bright light hurt his eyes. The tests made him weak. He didn't trust any of the nurses. He was unable to so much as feel out his environment. It would be better if someone who cared for him was able to take him under their wing and provide the care Egon needed in a natural environment. Upon such a request, he was ushered out of the hospital, and received a letter in the mail a week later stating that all privileges to the boy had been lost but for the occasional visit to the ward. Apparently, the government was interested in the development of aural vision, and didn't appreciate anyone getting between them and their subject. They were treating him like a blank, senseless animal, without emotions or thoughts or feelings of his own, but there was little he could do about it without directly interfering with governmental authority and thus enacting treason. "Scared..." Egon said weakly during one of their sessions. His gums had been drawn back, probably by poor nutrition, and he looked more feral and animalistic than ever. Rumpled fur was rough to the touch, speaking of months of cold hose-washing. He sniffled and rubbed his face into Finitevus' bright knits, and the doctor let him, feeling even more pitying and sympathetic to his assistant. "Why are you scared?" The little paws clutched at him for support. "They hurt me... w.... w... wouldn't h-hurt me if.... I wasn't... d-d-different." His heart felt like it was crumpling into pieces. Egon understood perfectly. "How... how are you different?" Oh dear, he was moments from tears. Egon lifted his head a little, blind white eyes staring up into his own. They seemed to be mournful now. "I... I... I can see peoples' souls... e-e-everything is a w-w-wash of white... s... s..smeary. And... and... and the...there are--" He broke into coughing, the coughs wracking his malnourished form. "The colours m-move," he finished lamely. "The colours are the peoples' souls?" Finitevus goaded, stroking through his spines. Egon nodded. "B-b-but I always k.. know it's you... y-yours h-has the same f-feeling that it a-a-always has..." "What colour is my soul?" He tried to give him a supportive tone. So what they had said was true... Egon had been granted, or had amplified some sort of extrasensory perception. It was still no reason to treat him so debasedly. Egon relaxed into the touches a little more. "You h...h-have the... the o-one c-ce-certain and cl-cl-clear a-aura i...in a w-w-world of m-m-muddy and s...same souls... i... it's b-b-black as n-night... I... I could ne-ne-never m-m-mistake you." Finitevus gave a flattered smile. "No other colours?" Egon studied him for a moment. "Yes. Y-y-your eye." He reached up and tapped the strange marking that took the majority of the albino's forehead. There was no hesitation in the movement; at least aura-wise, he was able to judge exact location. "Can you see yourself?" Finitevus asked him, one bandaged hand warming the cold little paws. The right one had finally come out of its cast and seemed smaller than the other one, thanks to atrophy. The cold. That was another thing to protest about. His ward was always cold, ever since his accident, and the nurses didn't seem to care about turning the thermostat up enough for the child. Given their admission of interest, it only made sense to him. Why care for someone who was seen as nothing but a test subject? "No... blank..." The doctor turned a wrist over, revealing a pale white scar that trailed up his arm. It was a crude marking, made by a shank - probably a toothbrush gnawed down to a sharp point by teeth that had little else to work on. Environment indeed. "Did you do this?" He touched it and watched the younger recoil, back against the wall and feet up to protect himself. The reaction was all he needed. "Egon..." he breathed, heart aching. "Egon, why?" The confined little creature was suddenly bawling out to him, stories of such tests and pokes and prods. Of a black world that certainly was unconsciousness, and waking to find pain and dried blood on the back of his head, or a line of neat stitches holding his torso together. He didn't trust anyone. They would put it in his food, and so he didn't eat as much; anything to keep the violation of his rights and his body off for another day. They would make the lights as bright as the sun, and he would be in absolute agony until he had inured himself to pain, or disoriented himself enough so that he couldn't escape. Finitevus couldn't help but feel sick at the way they were treating him. This was beyond even treating him as an animal... "I.... I want to get you out," he said, hands running over the fresh new stitches on Egon's stomach, hard and spiky against the soft flesh. The child trusted him enough to bare his wounds. The sight alone spurred Finitevus to new determination. "You don't deserve this. I want to get you out, and I want you to come back home with me." Egon gave a halting sigh, one that told him exactly how much he believed that. "T.... the only... w-way out is...." He glanced back to his arm, more a motion to show Finitevus what he meant than to actually ponder over it. "No!" Finitevus tugged him tightly against him, and held him to his chest, unwilling to separate from him. "Don't do that... it's never an option... no... we're going to get out of here. They won't touch you again!" Egon looked scandalized by the prospect. His law-abiding, moral employer was considering kidnapping? Or, considering recent events, theft of government property? He smiled sadly, noticing the other pacing around and making sharp motions. Flick, and flick, and flick again, but no warp ring would open a portal out. His arms alit with black fire that seemed to take on a bright yellow hue of a lit aura to Egon's eyes. "Why doesn't--?" Finitevus was indignant. It would scorch through the padding, but not through the dull metal walls beyond. "Chaos Dampeners." He tucked his head down again, trying to hide his eyes. "They figured... you'd try..." The other was aghast. "I- I will have words with them!" He sputtered, hands forming fists. "You... can do n-n-nothing..." He sniffled. "They d-don't.... care... T... they don't w-w-want their opportunities... wh-why they didn't... r...replace my eyes... c-could lose th-this curse..." It was spoken bitterly, but with a fatalistic air to it. "Orderlies coming," Egon sighed, crouching closer against the wall. "T-t-they'll take y-you again..." "I don't want to leave you!" Finitevus struggled against the four newcomers, who were tugging him away and through the door. "I'm coming back for you, Egon." Several others came and dragged him away. The last sight of his ward he had was the broken Echidna cowering against the wall. Two weeks later, when the administration allowed him to come visit, there was a heavy lock on the door, and guards posted around it. Egon was inside, looking delirious and possibly drugged, restrained in a straightjacket. He awkwardly curled in around his mentor upon arrival. "Tried to leave," he said softly. "They... thinking of t...taking me off meds..." He sniffled, and then laughed hollowly. "Think it affects... sight. D-doesn't... help the pain... n-..not any more... " His stare had been blank before, but now Finitevus noticed that there was no life in it. He leaned the boy up slowly and carefully, and pressed a kiss on his cheek, noticing the security camera stationed in one of the corners, but not willing to summon up the ability to care for the soulless wretches outside. He could taste a tear on them, when he moved away, and then the other quietly sobbed. "I... I want to... l-l-live... I... I w-w-wish I h-had my l-l-life back..." Finitevus had never felt more helpless in his life. He could save the masses, but he couldn't help the-- the one person that really mattered to him! The weakening Echidna reached his face up and nuzzled him, innocent as ever. If he got him out, Finitevus vowed, he would be more forward in his attentions, instead of ignoring him. This crisis had just confirmed things - clarified what had been obscured to him. He'd provide him with the implants that he needed. They... they could change their names. Move away. Live out the rest of their lives together... "I don't know what I can do," he murmured, close to his ear. Cameras wouldn't pick up the sound, but his assistant always had excellent hearing. "I've tried legal action, and they have military sanction and the support of the Council. I can't break you out from the inside. There are guards and orderlies swarming the place outside, and you have a very strong lock on this cell. My options have been limited." "Always... something..." It was a little trite phrase that Finitevus had drilled into him from the early days. No problem was unsolvable. There was always something you could do to get the results you needed. And there was always a legal alternative for every illegal suggestion. It seemed too optimistic to be true, now. He held the younger's hand awkwardly, and rested with him, thinking desperately for solution, or divine salvation. But for the first time in his life, his brain failed him. There was nothing. Nothing... Nothing. They had to tear the two apart from each other to get them to separate, yet another grievance Finitevus marked against them. Egon had been sleeping, for the first time in what looked like days. They'd taken his very sleep from him, for fear that he would wake up on the operating table. And to operate without drugs or anesthesia, simply to observe any subtle differences in his brain or in his ventral cavity for the aural manifestation... Monsters. 'Monsters' was the only word that would come to mind when the head of the department asked him in. He had hoped, foolishly, that maybe they had reconsidered, that maybe they would return his lawful rights to his ward and allow him to take the boy home. That's what the summons had sounded like. But it was apparent that they wouldn't so much as look at the idea when 'progress' could be made. "We've discovered two other aural-sensitives, and have had them brought in for testing. Given the state of the first subject, it's probably best we let i... him... go." There was the hope, that faint flicker of hope. "Lower levels want him for further analysis under controlled conditions, but the subject won't let anyone near him. That's why we stopped giving him painkiller - the poor lad would have jerked and snapped a needle, or swatted the nurses off before they could so much as administer. We've noted that he doesn't react like that around you." And the suspicions began. "As a fellow doctor, as an upstanding member of the medical community, you can see that he's suffering like this. He won't eat. He won't sleep. Testing has determined that implants would be hazardous and detrimental. He's already shown suicidal tendencies. We can't let him free like that... and he doesn't have much... quality of life to return to." The man slid a syringe across the table. "Surely you understand." He didn't. "He's sustained internal damages... the stitches and surgeries that we've been putting him through since he got here aren't taking, now. There's little we can do... we're fairly certain he's got serious radiation poisoning that's beginning to take effect. We can't help him... but we... you can give him the peace that he deserves. It's up to you, Doctor. Only you can decide to do the right thing and give him the rest and dignity that he deserves." Celeste bless him, but he took the needle, even if it was reluctantly. He could see Egon suffering. He could see that he was willing to take death over these conditions. He knew that they would never let his ward out alive. Was it fair to let him continue to suffer and to die in this hell-hole? Or could he do the noble thing and take him away from this abomination of life...? The physician in him could not imagine allowing him to go on suffering... the practical demi-god wished that he could take on more power to renew the child... "Damn you," he cursed, scowling as he kicked the door open and strode out, down the halls, and eventually, down to Egon's cell. No guards present. The door lock opened for him. Finitevus knew that it would only be momentary, that they were giving him some sort of... last few words alone with him to do the deed. His ward was staring blankly at a wall, gaunt and a pale version of his former self, but he immediately scrambled for his employer as soon as he 'saw' him. With detached eye, he saw the clumps of fur that had started to fall out, and how weakly and slowly the other moved - a hobble of action, like an old dog that needed to be put down. The doctor knelt and undid the straightjacket, long, loose canvas sleeves like a mockery of the labcoat Egon liked to wear. "Y...you came... for me...?" He whimpered, moving with him to ease the hospital grade clothing off - the canvas scrubs that were probably passed off as dignity, but were intended to hide the extent of their searches from his sole visitor. "Yes, I've come to take you home," he lied easily, rubbing the other's arms and hands, and searching for a vein with every patch of fur that he rubbed back. "I promised you that I would," he continued. "I promised, Egon. I... I stole some painkillers... knocked out the guards... got the access key..." Egon crooned into him, rubbing face into chest, and trying to press his weak body a little closer in. He'd been so starved for physical contact, and Finitevus wouldn't deny him anything. He slid the needle into the other's arm with ease, and it seemed like he didn't even register it. "I gave you something for... for the pain... for the brightness," the doctor explained, trying not to cry. "Mm..." He was trusted... Egon trusted him completely. "I'm just going to hold you here for a moment," he managed to force out, though his voice was soft now. "You don't look strong enough to walk, and I don't want to move you until you feel a little better. Hm?" "Hold..." His ward instructed, arms reaching out for him. "I... I'm s-s-so cold..." He continued to rub the other's arms, watching those blue-white eyes cloud in confusion and fear. He could probably feel the oncoming tendrils of his death tugging away at him. "I will keep you warm, dearest..." "D-don't l.... let... go..." His voice was coming on more sluggishly, another indication, and he weakly snuggled closer. "I... I can't..." Finitevus ran his hands through the younger's fur, shushing at him and trying to provide a modicum of comfort. "It's alright. It's alright... You don't need to..." "I'm tired... Finite...vus..." He let his eyes flutter for a second, hand moving and clutching at one of his mentor's. "Take me... home..." He allowed his eyelids to be closed, and for one last kiss to be pressed to thin, pale lips. "Sleep, Egon. Everything will be better." After a long moment, Finitevus checked for a pulse, and determined that his assistant had passed. He hefted the light weight up into his arms, watching the door open and an orderly wheel in a table. "Lower Levels will take it now for autops--" "No." His own eyes opened to a dark, soulless glare, and he sent him away where he belonged with a brutal blast of a Chaos Arrow. "You kicked him when he was down, cut him open without putting him back together, denied him the aid and the attention that he needed, and stood back to let the one man he loved and trusted betray and kill him." He shook his fist at the security camera. "Are you happy now? Because if there's one thing I've learned from my ward... there's not a single one of you that deserves to live." Sick, sadistic, black-hearted bastards... "I'm disgusted to call myself a Mobian and Echidna, thanks to you. A blind child saw you for what you were, unshaped stains upon the pure earth, and he tried to warn me, and you destroyed him for it." It was almost ironic, really. Everything seemed ironic to him now. He was the product of science, the patron of progress, and he had stood by and watched while science and progress were revealed to be wolves, devouring everything in their way for words on paper and weapons to use on their own kind. No more. Nevermore. Finitevus walked out of the hospital, Egon in his arms, and anything that stood in his way was killed. The agony threatened to overwhelm him, he contented himself with cold and calculating rage that fueled his fires. Yes... he had learned well, and he would make the world a burial ground... It was better to shun the light.