Aron didn't like this situation, not one bit. He was a prisoner to these people, that seemed clear. He had no chains or bindings to prove it, but the nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept growing. He wasn't about to try and turn around. This corridor, at least for him, was one-way. The six people surrounding him guaranteed that. Fear drove Aron to walk, and he daren't ignore it.
The first thing he noticed about the corridor was that, in truth, there was nothing to notice. It was white, with nothing on it, and it gave off the feeling of an empty hospital. For all Aron knew, it was. He wasn't very worried about where he was going at the time they "invited" him into the van, and focused more on the people. He should have been.
The hallway was so white, so bland, that Aron felt like he was going to get dizzy. The ceiling looked like the walls, the walls looked like the floors, and it continued that way all the way down to the double doors at the end. Aron couldn't managed to look anywhere but down at his feet. His stomach had already been churning.
He couldn't remember the last time he slept, maybe two days ago. He was too worried. That was why he got in that van. The three hour drive would have surely been a chance for sleep if not for the stares all around him. Aron's eyes were drooping. If he couldn't get to a bed soon, he knew he'd just end up falling asleep standing,
But that was in the back of his mind. His eyes were more drawn to the feet walking around his. He'd seen enough of them for the last few hours to not even have to look up to see where each was. He knew the big guys were on both sides of him. Both of them looked a bit alike, and he thought he heard someone call one of them Johns, but he didn't know which one. They both stood over six feet tall, and seemed like body-builders he had seen on TV. They were probably the number one reason he wasn't going to test just how much freedom he had right now. Getting on their bad sides was on the top of a very long list of things not to do. A list Aron had been making all his life.
Behind him were Tweedles Dumb and Dee, who really just seemed along for the ride. They hadn't said anything, hadn't done anything, and probably hadn't thought anything since Aron first laid eyes on them. They both looked completely different. Dumb was a stocky redhead, about six feet tall, with shoulder length hair and a beard belonging to a mountain man, yet somehow didn't seem the least bit frightening. Dee on the other hand was shorter, not even five and a half feet tall, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and the look of a pretty boy. Both looked completely clueless to anything around them, and were probably only brought along to intimidate Aron. At first, it worked.
Then there was Tan, or something like it. She was the only girl here, and was probably thirty. Mr. Left had said her name once when they were in the van. She was the driver, and all around leader, most likely. She didn't seem to like talking much, and kept the personal encounters between her and Aron to a minimum. She had black hair, braided, and kept a knife visibly hanging on her hip. A constant reminder not to screw with her.
Last was Micy Blace, the most out-of-placer in the group. He was Aron's age, and seemed like a last minute tag-along. He had kept Aron interested, and was the only one that he even remotely trusted not to kill him, which was probably a mistake in some way, because the others seemed to distance themselves from Micy. Micy was a brunette, who had green eyes that seemed to perfectly fit his face, and he never seemed to stop smiling, though Aron never knew what about. Micy was peculiar, because no matter how talkative he was, which he very much was, he wouldn't say anything about himself or what was going on. He seemed to like small talk, which everyone likes when they're hiding something, and that made Aron even more nervous.
When the group of seven finally arrived at the double doors, Micy stepped aside. The two large men pushed ahead, and opened up the doors. Finally Tweedles Dumb and Dee walked right past Aron and inside the room. He knew if he was ever going to bolt, now was the chance, and yet he knew he wouldn't. No matter how much fear kept him steady, so did the knowledge that there was an answer inside this room. And that answer was worth whatever fear Aron would have to take.
As people pilled past, Aron began to glimpse more and more into the room beyond. The room was just like the hallway, with bare white walls, but the amazing thing was what stood between those walls. Machines Aron had never seen, machines reaching up to the roof, were scattered throughout the place, and right in the middle of the room sat a huge console, with ten chairs sat in front of it. Every chair save one was empty, and in that chair sat a man that could only be described as the most normal-looking person Aron had ever seen.
The man sat in the chair facing the door, obviously expecting them. He had black hair, black eyes, a plain white shirt on, and sat in a pair of blue jeans. His face didn't seem in the least way distinguishable, and all in all he looked like an extra in a movie. What stood out for him, though, was the very feeling he exuded. He seemed like he would be able to draw anyone's eye, and hold their attention. He looked like a man who knew a thousand stories, and would tell each a thousand times and have it never get old. The man had the look of a layman, the spirit of a storyteller, the presence of a leader, and the familiarity of a best friend. Although Aron had never met the man before, he felt like he could tell the man anything, like he could trust him fully.
The man smiled, opened up his arms as if to display all around him, and looked right at Aron before saying, "Welcome, Mr. Rein, to the Falcon Laboratory. Please sit."
As the five guards seemed to take positions near the door, both Aron and Micy took a chair. Micy sat quiet next to Aron when the man continued.
"I know this is a bit surprising to you, and I apologize, but I am a busy man who could not come to meet you face-to-face. I hope my friends weren't too sterile for your taste. Besides, I sure Michael livened things up a bit."
Aron watched as Micy cringed, obviously none to partial to his name. Still, he sat quiet, said nothing, and only listened. Aron wanted to ask so many things, but felt like he should quiet himself until he was given time to speak. Besides, he wanted to hear every word the man would speak.
"I know you have many questions, many of which I have no answer for, but that will have to wait until due time. First, before you ask, allow me to say something. I apologize. I told my men to provide information you wanted to hear to entice you, as I'm guessing by which the eagerness you sit here that they did just that. I am here to assure you right now that I, nor anyone I know, have the answer you are looking for. What I can promise you though, is that if anyone can find it, it's us."
Aron looked down at his hands, and tightened them into fists. He meant no anger towards the man, but still needed to fill the familiar feeling of skin tightening around his muscle. He didn't know why, but he wasn't angry. He may have been lured here under false pretense, but the man spoke in a way that proved there was reason for everything happening. Aron couldn't explain it. It just was.
"So you know nothing?"
Aron hadn't even realized the words had escaped his mouth until they returned through his ears. The man sat in silence for a moment, seeming to contemplate what next to say.
"Well, there is something I know, but it… it's…"
Finally Micy added his word into the conversation.
"It's your fault. It happened because of you."
The man snapped his attention back to Micy, and said nothing. The silence seemed worse. Still looking at Micy, the man resumed.
"What my friend here says is true. To all conclusive evidence, it is because of what you have with you right now."
Aron's mind flew through everything he was carrying, but before he could search his pockets the man resumed again.
"Don't look. It isn't something you can see. It is something you can never keep at home, and it always travels with you like your shadow."
"You're talking about my essence, aren't you?"
Aron knew about essences. He heard people talking about them all the time, on the news, at school. His parents thought it was stupid, it was pointless. His parents…
"I am what you'd call a Essential Geneticist, a person who dedicates their life to find the genetic traits of the essences that inhabit every human body. The reason for your misfortune is the very essence you carry. And yet I think it might be the only way of fixing what has happened to you. It might be the key to the problem that plagues you."
Now Aron knew there was no way he could turn away. He wasn't going to back down. With full determination, he was going to meet this head on. He looked right into the eyes of the man.
"Oh, excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Dr. Regent Kane, at you service."
Aron nodded, and replied wholeheartedly, "Well then, Dr. Kane, tell me how I can find my parents."