Mikey glares up with wide eyes at Isaak as he declares he has failed phase two. He can hear the muffled shouts of his friends protesting that this test wasn't right and it's all wrong. But he can't make out the voices, all he can hear is the ringing in his ears and his own voice in his head.
'What... what is happening? Who did the Predecessor mean? What was he talking about? I don't even know if it was real. If it is real...what does that mean for me? For us? For the future? What girl was he talking about? What package? It's all so—'
He staggers in Ryosuke arms, his knees weakening and heavy.
'My head hurts... my stomach... oh god, I'm gonna—'
Mikey hurls himself to the ground as vomit curls up his windpipe. He pukes on the floor, purple fluid spilling out of his mouth. The diluted linnium. He coughs and fights for breath as the drug bleeds out of his system and the fog begins to clear. Ryosuke steadies him, with Tobi on the other side. Ryosuke glances down at him.
"Get some rest young man."
Tobi glacnes at him, making sure not to smell Mikey's breath. "I'm h-here man."
They half-carry, half-drag Mikey toward the waiting room. Bobo looks up at Gerron as they pass him, murmuring to Luce and Amelia.
"I'll be back. Wait in the stands. I gotta talk to Gerron."
After a couple minutes Gerron is in his suite, looking above the stands of the dome. He sits back, his old eyes thinking. Then he gets a tap on the shoulder from one of his men.
"Sir, someone wishes to speak to you."
Gerron stands up and enters a room in the back of the suite. He sees Bobo standing there with his arms crossed. His eyes widen and then narrow with focus.
"Oh, it's you."
Gerron walks over to a table and pulls out a bag of tobacco and begins to roll it in a peice of wrapping paper. He rolls it simply, as if not even feeling the immense pressure coming from Bobo.
"Speak, Presley."
Bobo looks at him, glaring.
"Stop the tests... or at least just make them fair. This has been bullshit so far, Gerron."
Gerron is unbothered. He takes off his cloak and sets it down calmly, his eyes not once looking at Bobo. Gerron tugs up his sleeve and licks his thumb before rolling the paper.
"No."
"Why not?! Why do this?!"
Gerron does not look at him not giving him the respect.
"Is that all?"
Bobo punches the wall in anger with his metal arm, sending a spiderwebbing crack into it.
"Listen to me, old man! Just... listen. You gotta stop this..."
Gerron does not even shiver. "Do you want to know why I spit on your plea? Why I ignore all of your wishes? Because I feel no regret in what I am doing."
He finishes rolling the tobacco and lifts it to his mouth, he takes a match from his pocket and strikes its on the wooden table, lighting it. He lifts the match to the cigarette and takes a drag of smoke, finally looking at Bobo.
"What I am doing is necessary for the safety of our Silo, and our cause."
Bobo grits his teeth. "Yeah, the reason is horseshit. So what he was raised in the Council? He has fought for us and saved me and my squad...He's the son of Desmond and Darla Grant for god sake!"
Gerron takes another puff, his cold hazel eyes looking into Bobo's. "We don't know what attachments he has."
"I love Ryo to death but he had the same damn problem! He was born in Hiroki. He was trained by a Director. He took out union states with him...but you accepted him!"
"Saito was different." Gerron response is instant and cold, he takes a puff of smoke, "He hadn't known what he was doing. Plus, Director Kael went on to slaughter his village and his family. That is reason enough."
Bobo bounds toward him, "No! You accepted him because he was strong!" Bobo slaps the cigarette out of his mouth and hauls him up against the wall, holding Gerron like he weighs nothing.
"But I'll tell you this—Mikey is strong too! You see his potential and it scares you...Because when he reaches it—which he will—he'll be just as deadly as Ryo but he's not tied to any sense of honor or loyalty like us. He lives by his heart and that scares you because you don't know if you can control him or not."
Gerron looks down at him, completely unbothered. "Watch yourself, Presley. That could be considered treason."
Bobo hears the sounds of firearms being raised. He turns his head to see soldiers, Gerron's men. He can count ten of them. Bobo turns back to Gerron. "You wouldn't."
"It's true that you and your hit squad—Savior—are vital. You're the ace squad. But I don't mind cleaning house if I have too."
Bobo sizes the barrels, the odds. He lets Gerron drop back to the table, letting the old man breathe, and releases his grip.
"That kid's gonna pass no matter what. And then there's nothing you can do about it. His loyalty is with us, with my squad. Not you, not the Defectors, but us. And trust me—our patience is wearing thin."
Bobo turns and walks out of the suite, his metal arm thudding against the door frame as he leaves.