Fizzing around the clear tanks, were the crimson globs of oxygen, which kept the three alive. The master lent over Morgan, one glistening tentacle resting on the shoulder of the thing's neatly presented three piece suit. Morgan pretended not to notice.

“I'm afraid they're completely unremarkable sir, Finchly must have made some mistake in the biology report.”

The master slid across the draining grate beneath, leaving a trail both on Morgan's clothes and the bloodstained metal.

“That's a pity” intoned the translator,indicating the masters opinion, even though the mechanic was devoid of all expression.

The master glided out of the heavy steel door, which was gradually yanking the arms out of his lanky servants sockets.

Morgan paused, biting through one of three lips.

Closed his eyes, and before he got another second thought, flushed them.

“We have to get back in” the boy barked.

“Why? For all we know they could have flushed us, this could just be what happens to all of the rejects.”

Though he waited patiently till she'd finished, just as the robots had taught him, the pressure had build up with the length of her sentence so he was almost screaming his answer.

“Have you seen any 'other rejects'? Have you? HAVE YOU? WE ARE ON OUR OWN!!”

The small boy had begun to cry. This kindly added some reality to the mix.

“Look, this is probably just a training exercise or something. It's just a simple illusion, they've put us through these before, to test our magic, remember?”

“Course I remember” the girl was clutching her younger brother close, stiffness showing in her face and voice.

“All we have to do is show some magic and we can get out.”

The girl dropped her frostyness a little to roll her eyes.

“C'mon Di all they'll drop something dangerous at us and we'll have to counter it. It's instinctive! Everyone else in training can do it.”

The only female narrowed her eyes, they all knew it was dangerous to use the names Finchly had given them,especially since...especially since his death.

Since he was murdered.

She was about to cast an undetectable screening spell and remind him (probably in the loudest voice she could muster), that they weren't like everyone else in training. None of them had ever cast detectable spells in lessons, Finchly had strictly forbidden it. (He taught them all they knew in secret,and they knew even more than the master.)

When she noticed he wasn't there any more.

After Darren had seen the training compound in the distance, no question was made that they needed to return. For one thing, there was no food in the knee depth (but pleasantly warm) pure white blanket. Of course they could of cast some, but they had no way of telling if they were being monitored and this was just a new level of training.

The blob of dirty orange copper was closer than ever, they could be there by nightfall. With a a six hour break every five days, the two older siblings, Di and Darren took it in turns to carry Billy. This caused Billy to be the only one not craving sleep, he got lashings of it, which unluckily made him hyper when he did wake up, but prone to sprinting in the wrong direction.

Darren dug a cave about five miles off the compound, all three battled nerves to get sleep for a night and a day. The teenagers taking it in turns to keep watch, Billy snoring through the whole lot.

Still the silence (except the occasional chirp from Billy) endured. The lack of communication, smothered all of them in a way many in the worlds feel, but none can accurately describe.

TRESSPASSERS ENTERING...

CODES INITIATED...

MAIN GATE OPENING...

PREVENTION AUTO-COMMANDS IN MOTION...

INITIATING SEQUENCES...