Of all the stupid things I've heard over my life – and yes, there have been a great number of them – this just took the cake. It was completely and utterly ridiculous.

"No fucking way." I promptly exclaimed, after taking several moments to digest what the girl had said. A genetic experiment; really. The things children come up with these days.

Mute's expression did not change. "What ever do you mean by that?" she questioned, smiling slightly. She was enjoying this. God, I wanted to punch her (which doesn't really say a lot, because I want to punch a lot of people).

"There is no fucking way that you're a genetic experiment." I snarled.

"Why not? Why couldn't I be?" she posed, glaring at me.

My jaw dropped. What was she playing at? "Let me think for a moment. It's, uh, impossible?"

"My dear Nolan," she said, her smirk growing, "just because you have never seen nor heard anything about real genetic experiments, does not mean they're an impossible thing. They are, in truth, quite real."

"Prove it then." I yelled.

"Tsk. Watch your temper." she instructed. "And, I have no reason to prove anything to you."

"I'm sorry. You collapse on the street, beg me to help you – but not take you to the military – take advantage of me, and proceed in taking over my house. I'm pretty sure I'm owed an explanation." I screamed.

Mute looked rather surprised, "Calm down!" she exclaimed. "I'll tell you, god, I was just playing around."

I breathed in, "Okay, first question: what do you mean by the 'perfect soldier'?"

"A completely flawless officer that is totally obedient in every way; I have perfect hand-to-hand combat abilities, top-notch analyzing techniques, a photographic memory, intelligence and strength beyond your wildest dreams, unbelievably fast regeneration skills, and more, that I couldn't even name off the top of my head if I wanted to." she took a deep breath, after saying this rather fervently.

"Well, the military created you, right?" she nodded at this, "Then why do they want to destroy you?" I asked.

"Like I said, I'm imperfect." she sighed, "Something in my design – I'm not completely sure what – was flawed. I'm guessing part of it was the obedience thing; the earring you helped me cut of was something that affected my brain waves, and made me follow the military." Mute then grinned mischievously, "To some degree, of course."

"You managed to escape." I said carefully; it was almost as if I was walking on a tight rope, and beneath me was lava. One wrong question, and I would get burned. "And you destroyed the headquarters near here?"

"Yes. You found me right after I fled from the premises." she confirmed. "And destroyed would be a very…light term, for it, let's say."

"Last question;" I'd played her game long enough. If she failed this question, she was gone. I was tossing her out the window. Or kicking her out the door. Either or. "Prove to me that you're a genetic experiment, because, frankly, I don't really believe you."

Surprisingly, she just smiled and tucked her white-blonde hair behind her ear. "See?"

It was the ear that had held the chip; the one that I had helped her cut out. But it wasn't bleeding anymore; it wasn't even scarred. It looked flawless, untouched; absolutely perfect.

"I told you that I had regeneration skills, didn't I?" she grinned once again, "My DNA was modified in a specific way, so that my cells react abnormally fast to injuries. That cut took me approximately seventy seconds to heal; any normal person would have taken a few days. Now do you believe me?"

"Now I just think I'm insane." I murmured, staring at the bloody knife on the counter.

"Well don't." a looked of concern washed over the girls' face, "Now, that girl that was here earlier. I heard you call her Wren, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, that's her name." I said slowly, confused. Why did it matter? I was still rather focused on the fact that she was a genetic experiment. Yes, I understandably found it quite difficult to digest.

"Would her last name happen to be Rainer?" Mute questioned, biting her lip, her brow furrowed with worry.

"Yes, why?" Mute certainly knew how change the topic quickly.

"Damn." Mute exclaimed. "Not good, definitely not good." She stared at the window, apparently deep in thought. It had started to rain again and drops were beating against the window, as if punishing it in some way. Lovely.

"Why?" I asked again, louder.

Mute's azure orbs widened and she shook her head. "Nothing, no concern to you."

"Sorry, you're in my house, it involves someone I know – it concerns me."

"Well, her brother is in the military..." Mute said, her voice trailing off. "I'm just worried that…" the muttered something incomprehensible.

"Ryce?" I stifled a laugh, "Nothing to worry about. Believe me; he's completely incompetent."

The words Mute said next are ones I will, in all likelihood, remember for the rest of my life. They were, quite frankly, rather chilling ones – well, maybe not the words themselves, but the manner Mute said them in was certainly daunting.

"Ryce Rainer," she paused for a moment, as if trying to recoil her memory, "knows much more than you give him credit."

xxxxx

Author's Note: Okay. I changed this chapter; I completely hated it before, and now, it's short, but less suckish. I finally found the file where I wrote ideas for the story/various chapters within it. It was conspicuously hidden in my English Homework file, for some reason.

Anyways, I also changed the name back because I remember why I named it Self Portrait in the first place. And it sort of has significance, but not really. And I don't like Silent Song anymore.

ALSO, expect more action next chapter. Because it's the chapter I've wanted to write for like, twenty years. And expect the next chapter either Tuesday or Friday.

Kay. Finally. It's summer vacation; expect more updates. Because I've decided I'm going to finish this story this summer.