The ride over was awkward and tense, and probably a taste of what was to come. I tried asking about a few things while the medics worked me over, ranging from where we were going to if I actually had some sort of warrant out for my arrest. My questions were met with silent stares from the four soldiers watching me, turns out there were two more waiting in the transport for us. The medics weren't any better, basically ignoring me as they did….. Whatever the hell they were doing. The tests and questions weren't that bad at first, heart rate, blood pressure, pupil response, can I feel my limbs, the works. Except for the fact they stole my tarp. Cant have it getting in the way they said, assholes.

Then they started getting more intrusive, but still somewhat normal. When was the last time I ate and what I ate. Last time I used the bathroom, took medications, and any vitamins or supplements. They started whacking my knees and shining light over my eyes to test for reactions.

Then they got really intrusive. When was the last time I had my period? I gave them a curt "None of your business, that's all you need to know" In response. Even that was probably nicer than how I should have responded. Then they asked about my sex life, history, etc. I kindly informed them that they weren't privy to that. At least they didn't push me on it. Of course they wanted weight, height, all the fun stuff.

I reluctantly gave them all my old and probably current body numbers. But that reminds me, I need to figure out how much my natural form weighs now, probably not a small number.

They were about to run even more tests and hook me up to more shit when suddenly the transport lurches slightly. Not enough to cause problems, but enough to be noticeable.

The medics start packing their gear, apparently content with their questions and tests for now. The transport jostles then stills, the humming of the engines I didn't even realize I could hear till now growing quiet. Huh, we were flying for maybe thirty minutes at most. I figured we were leaving the city, but didn't think much of it at the time given how trashed it was.

With a hiss the ramp popped open, but none of the soldiers moved to get up from their seats. And the medics just kept packing their equipment back up. When the ramp lowered enough I saw why. Over a dozen black clad individuals were standing outside waiting, with double their number in other personnel scattered about. Unlike the ones inside the transport with me, these guys had advanced gear. Rail guns and some kind of powered exo-suits. Their faces covered by full helmets built into the suits, leaving nothing exposed.

Behind them many personnel clad in garb ranging from operating scrubs, lab coats, two in black suits with sunglasses, and even a few in casual wear. But the way they were looking at me… bad vibes. Looks ranged from like they wanted to gobble me down like a delicious dinner, to wanting to dissect me on the spot. Ah fuck I just got taken to a black site.

No one on the transport moved as half the black soldiers stepped forward, crossing up the ramp and taking control of my gurney. As they pop the wheel locks to roll me away, one of the medics hands one of the soldiers a file filled with papers, presumably about me.

"Hey, where are we going?" I ask, failing to keep the concern out of my voice as they start wheeling me out. Without the tarp or any other coverings either. Because apparently my modesty is overrated.

In response they just keep wheeling me towards the awaiting crowd of doctors and whatnot. Said doctors and what not are arguing loudly amongst themselves, mainly over who would get first shot at me.

"We need to ensure she is physically stable before doing anything else with her."

"They've already reported she is stable. You just want to run your tests first."

"Perhaps we should ensure she is psychologically fit to endure these tests in the first place. She has been through quite the ordeal."

"Nice try, but you can pick her brain and personality apart later. We need to verify if her system access has been altered in any way. This could be a revolutionary step forward in our understanding of magical system interactions."

"Fat chance, we all know that's the least important thing."

They continued their bickering, seeming oblivious to my continued departure. I desperately looked around, trying to get some sort of indicator of where we were. Unfortunately there was nothing very telling. The transport landed in some kind of concrete hangar, the architecture screaming barren utilitarianism. Only two of the five visible landing pads were in use, the one we landed in on, and another containing an older looking Apache. Lights in the ceiling provided general illuminance while landing and spot lights shone on the pads themselves. The singular hanger door for apparently all the pads was closed. And the only foot exit I could see was across the hangar, and heavily guarded by another squad of rail gun toting soldiers.

Unfortunately for both myself and the bickering cabal of doctors, the men in suits started moving first. They strutted forward like they own the place, the doctors and whatnot to busy arguing to notice they'd been left behind initially.

"Greetings Ms. Bretmont. I am agent Don with the Department of Homeland Security, and my partner is Agent Donny with the Counter Demonic Intelligence Agency. We need you to answer a few questions for us in regards to recent events." The first agent says, stepping ahead of his partner and gesturing for the soldiers to follow him.

Problem is Don and Donny look near fucking identical. Both have medium builds, short cut brown hair identical in length and nearly identical in color. Don is maybe a tenth of an inch shorter than Donny, and I only know he's Don because he was the one just talking. Of course, the generic black suits, blackout sunglasses, and lack of name tags makes them all the more indistinguishable. I wouldn't be surprised if these two were selected on purpose because they are like that. You know, just to fuck with me.

By this point the scientists have realized their prize is getting stolen by a bigger fish, but are powerless to do anything about it. A fact they clearly understand as I'm rolled by their annoyed and despondent faces towards the only way out of the hanger. Not even a peep from them in protest, not a good sign.

"Oh joy, I survived all that shit and you dickheads go and immediately drag me off to god knows where. And you wonder why no one trusts the government." I bitch out loud, because that's all I can really do at this point, still being strapped into the gurney.

"I assure you Ms. Bretmont we take as little pleasure in this interaction as you do. But any information you have may be important to the war effort." Don replies.

"Yea, nothing pleasant about rolling a naked minor strapped to a gurney to a secret and secure area with no other eyes." I spit, not bothering to keep the venom and insinuation out of my voice.

"We can find you some more appropriate shortly. Our priority right now is securing your safety as well as acquiring any information you may have." Don replies, Donny staying keenly silent.

We approach the exit door to the hanger. Which turns out to a short tunnel leading to a set of three elevators. Donny steps forward and swipes a key card on the rightmost one, pressing the down button before stepping back in position near the gurney. A short moment later the door opens with a ding, as if the elevator had already been waiting for us. I'm spun around and pushed in backwards, the agents following a moment later along with two soldiers. The elevator can't fit the rest, so they apparently have to catch the next one.

The lift shifts as we begin the descent the agents and soldiers standing backs to me, between me and the door as the lift rapidly drops. They have a lot of faith I won't nail them in the back apparently. Then again, I'm locked in here, and this is a black site. I look up to my left and notice the camera observing the entirety of the elevator. I wouldn't be surprised if they could remote control this elevator too. Just send me to a floor full of angry soldiers with rain guns if I start making trouble. Hell there were probably more cameras in the hallway and hanger that I just didn't notice.

The elevator decelerates, coming to a stop on god knows what floor, because this thing doesn't have a floor counter. Then I realize it doesn't have a button panel either. Fucking government black sites.

The doors slide open, revealing yet another squad of soldiers awaiting us at our apparent destination. The soldiers in the elevator grab my gurney and pull me out, sending me straight into the midst of the awaiting group. The agents take point again as we start moving through the emotionless concrete halls once more, the two soldiers who came down the elevator with us staying behind.

Turn after turn, hallway upon hallway. Sometimes we pass through hallways with lots of metal doors, other times only one or two, occasionally one with none. The doors are usually marked, but occasionally they aren't. The only noises filling the halls are the stomping of boots and the squeaking of my gurneys wheels. At one point I think we've just gone in a circle, and I start to wonder where the hell we are going.

Wait, I bet these assholes are taking a confusing route on purpose. Fucking government black sites.

Eventually we come upon a recessed checkpoint, the soldiers manning it on guard at our approach. One of the agents, Don steps forward, flashing his badge and some papers he got from somewhere. After a moment of scrutiny, we are waved through without a word.

This new wing of the facility isn't much different, same concrete with dim led lights occasionally to make the hallway lit enough to walk. But I can tell immediately that something is different. Occasionally I see indents in the ceiling for what look like raised blast doors, and at the end of every hallway is a slit that looks like it's meant to be shot through.

Doors are a lot scarcer in this wing, but all look like they are reinforced to take a beating. We don't travel much farther thankfully. Eventually stopping outside a sliding door, one that's placed right next to another slightly less reinforced door. Don flashes his badge at a camera by the reinforced door and it slides open with barely a sound. Inside is….. an interrogation room. A camera in every corner, watching a simple metal desk with a single chair with restraints mounted to it bolted to the floor on one side, and two more generic free standing chairs sitting on the other.

The straps are taken off, presumably allowing me to stand up once again. No one stops me when I sit up and swing my legs off the side. However the soldiers have blocked both sides of the hall, leaving the door to the interrogation room as my only way open. Really subtle hint there guys. At least they haven't 'confiscated' my crystals, which are still floating around me. I honestly would have expected them to demand they be removed. Though maybe they want me to have a false sense of security for whatever reason.

I use my hands to cover myself as best as I can as I scurry into the room, followed immediately by the agents.

"Wait on standby, we should be clear to start." Don says to the soldiers in the hallway.

"Please have a seat Ms. Bretmont." Donny says to me.

So I walk over and sit on the closest of the two chairs without restraints. Then I turn and stare deadpan at the agents, who stop in their tracks and stare back.

"The other chair please, MS. Bretmont." Don says, gesturing to the restraint covered chair across the table. Yeaaaaaa no.

I simply glance at the chair, then shoot him.a raised eye brow in response.

"The restraints are only used on physically aggressive subjects. I trust we have no need for them with you." Donny states, the underlying threat clear. Play nice or we lock you in the chair.

With a huff I get up and stomp around the table, sitting my bare ass down on the cold metal of the chair. Making sure to keep my hands and legs away from the restraints, just in case. The agents sit down across from me, nothing on the table between us. Notes are probably being taken remotely, and I have no doubt questions will be funneled through those earpieces they are wearing.

"So, let's start at…." Donny starts, only for me to interrupt him.

"No shirt, no shoes, no pants." I state before leaning over the table. "No service."

"Your clothing will be here shortly, now…." Don tries to start up again.

"Oh good, we won't have to wait long then." I reply, leaning back in my chair and going silent.

The agents don't say anything back. For a few creepily tense minutes we just stare at each other, my gaze flipping between each of them and occasionally one of the cameras.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Eventually the door to the room opens and a duffel bag is slid in before the door closes again. Agent Donny gets up and retrieves the bag, checking its contents and placing it on the table in front of me. I open it up myself and find a pair of basic white sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and white grippe socks. No underwear, but at this point it's not like I give enough of a shit to complain.

I quickly throw the shirt on, which is a size too big for me apparently, followed by the sweatpants, which have the same issue. Finally I throw on the grippe socks just because I can, not because my feet are cold. Apparently I'm still mostly immune to inclement temperatures.

"Now may we begin, Ms. Bretmont?" Donny asks.

"Fine, but if you start asking me the same question fifty different ways I'm gonna just stop answering." I warn them with a growl.

"Now to start with some additional verification, just to be safe. Could you please recite your full name, date of birth, current residence, and DID number?" Donny asks, seems he's on talking duty for now.

I huff, but comply. "Lucy Bretmont. March Tenth, twenty twenty eight. 5098 South Sunny Way, Shimerview, VA. DID is 50432827 if I remember correctly." Which I know I am, one perk of getting turned into a demon is now having near perfect photographic memory.

"Hmmm, that seems to check out. So Ms. Bretmont, what were you doing prior to the Breach event's occurrence?"

"I was meeting with a guild recruiter."

"For which guild?"

"Renders."

"Have you signed with them?"

"No but I'm looking too."

That seems to give Donny pause for a moment, but his expression remains blank, even as he asks the next question.

"How did this guild, Renders, contact you? It's our understanding that your information should have been sealed to guild recruitment inquiries given that you are a minor."

"Fucked if I know how they found me. Probably cheated the rules, a bit or something. There were a lot of other guilds trying to get to me too, some more pushy than others. Renders actually was the first one that had the decency to text first instead of trying to blow up my phone or jump me out in public."

"I see." Donny replies, drumming his fingers on the table.

"I'm sorry, but is this relevant or something? I thought you wanted to know about the breach event."

"Just making sure there is no malicious or tainted motivations. Now, could you please recount your experiences during the event, starting just before it started."

So I did, I started with how I was about to buy a sandwich, but the breach started. How I ran down the street with the throngs of people towards the safety of the central bunker. And how it all started going to shit when we found it closed.

"You mean to say the bunker was completely sealed? No personnel or cultists present?" Donny asks, interrupting me before I can continue.

"Yea, no cultists, soldiers, anyone. Doors were all sealed and wouldn't open when people banged on them."

"Interesting. Please continue."

I talked about how suddenly the zombie parasite demons started dropping from the sky. The following panic, how I ran for it, because I was a healer, not a fighter. How the damned things seemed to be everywhere at street level but higher up was empty. I kept talking, until I got to the point where I tried pulling one of the fuckers off to examine it.

"These zombie creating demons, can you describe them?"

"Evil jellyfish looking things, except they had a beak between their tentacles that was like a squid's. They seemed to latch onto the victims head and try to stab them in the back of the neck with the beak. From there it forced tendrils up inside the person's brain I think. I didn't get to do a real dissection of one. All I know is they were bound, for lack of a better word, to the victim at that point. Either the victim or demon dying caused the death of the other. I'd honestly describe it more as extreme parasitation than corruption."

"Interesting. Please continue"

So I did, talked about how it was a bloody mess after that point. How I waited, escaped, tried to run for safety but ended up encountering a fucking horde on the street.

"You thought running down the street during a breach event was an acceptable course of action?"

"Yea I did, seems dumb I know. But there wasn't shit outside when I started moving. Damned things were hiding in the buildings and came out as night set in. Thank god I saved mana for my flight magic."

"You used flight magic to escape? Why not fly all the way to safety then?"

"Mana cost. You think this shit is free? It ain't even cheap. I had basically no mana pool, between that and fighting I was nearly perpetually out."

"I see, so how did you escape exactly?"

"I jumped up on a building, fuckers would let up and kept trying to jump off nearby buildings and pile their way up to me and shit. I ended up flinging myself across the alley into the skyscraper behind the building."

From there I continued, how I barricaded the floor, was going to wait for help until the two searchers from Roberts group stumbled upon me.

"You didn't think to join up with them?"

"Not at the moment, it was too risky."

"How so?"

"I was fine where I was. And not to trash Roberts group, but I didn't trust a bunch of older men with guns in what is effectively a lawless chaos zone as a young teenage girl. Yea I had my magic, but I'd rather not take my chances."

"Understandable. You make it sound like you interacted with them again."

So I continued my story again. How the dumbass's yelling attracted a super zombie and got them both pasted. How I almost joined them but managed to slip around it and lose it in the stairwell.

"This, super zombie, describe it please."

"Well, ever seen one of those super roided out body builders doing those thousand pound dead lifts or whatever? Well it looked like that, but double the size and its way stronger. Also the jelly was kinda merged into its head. It was just as stupid as regular zombies but bonkers strong enough that it didn't matter."

"That matches with other reports. But its noted that while they are significantly stronger, their toughness does not keep up. Did you not think of trying to try killing it?"

"Honestly, I didn't think I could. At least not at first, figured they were as tough as they were strong, so I didn't really try. Found out later though that proper application of buckshot put them down well enough."

"Hmmm, alright please continue."

I huffed but complied, hoping to get this over with before I died of boredom and annoyance. At least they seemed to be keeping questions to a minimum and not repeated every one of them five different times.

I talked about how I ended up joining Roberts group anyway, but not before being held at shotgun point. They were wary of me at first, especially since their friends didn't come back. But their attitudes changed a bit when they learned I was a defender. I rested, replenished my mana, made some of my crystals. Then we tried to formulate a plan but ended up deciding to stay put, but ended up being forced to move anyway.

We barely made it out to the street before the skyscraper gave way. We snuck and fought our way through the streets, and taking injuries during our encounter with the wayward cultist convoy. Strangely they didn't have any questions about that.

We eventually had to find cover in the bank. How clearing it almost got us killed again and drew more attention. I had to fudge my story a bit at this part, saying that I heard the survivors in the vault 'tapping' on the walls. But before I could tell anyone else, he showed up. Still just thinking his name pisses me off. Fucking James.

"You knew this particular cultist?"

"Knew him? I went to school with him. Hell, even called him a friend. Fuckweed never showed any signs of being a cultist!" I growl out, then realize that admitting to personally knowing a cultist is probably not the wisest idea. Welp, guess I'm not getting out of here for another week or some bullshit.

"We need to know everything you can tell us about this James. Personal details, social accounts, habits, preferences, any and everything is important." Don spoke up, his voice carrying a serious edge.

"Calm your titties spooky, I ain't his mother. I know his fully name, birthday, discord, and I think his Vidshare account. He went to the same high school as me so I'm sure you can dig up the rest no problem."

They still demanded everything I knew, and even some of the stuff I didn't, about James. It became what was probably an hour long back and forth of, do you remember anything else, no I don't, well what about blah blah blah. To give them a sludge of credit, some of the info they provided to prompt me for answers did actually call up a few memories. Like asking about his favorite lunch. Anything with peaches in it. Desert? Again peaches. Did he ever have a girlfriend? Once like a million years ago, but she dumped him after a week for whatever reason. No I don't know her name, no asking again wont change the answer.

I was about to tell them to finally sod off for asking too many repetitive questions, when I felt the ground shake a little. Something that can only be trouble at a super secret government black site like this. Donny any Don picked up on my reaction to the disturbance immediately.

"Is there a problem Ms. Bretmont?" Donny asks. And as I go to respond I notice the shaking is rhythmic, constant, and slowing increasing in power.

"Do you feel that shaking?" I ask them.

"No….. oh." Don replies, looking across at is partner.

"Well, it seems we are out of time today Ms. Bretmont. Thank you for your cooperation. We just need you to sign a few things and…." Donny states, only to get interrupted by the door to the room sliding open suddenly, and the noise of a nasty confrontation in the hallway spilling in.

"You can't go in there!"

"Well the door opened for us, so sod off!"

"This is a restricted facility!"

"Too bad, we don't seem to care."

Two people slipped past the noise in the hallway and into the room. Though it might be safer to say the leading one stormed his way into the room. He was an older man, white, greying hair mostly hidden under a fancy military dress hat. He also wore a fancy uniform, the kind adorned with lots of stars and medals. The way he carried himself into the room screamed I am in charge here. But the look on his face and the air about him said someone was going to die before he left this room.

His eyes swept over me, hovered for a second, then snapped to the agents sitting across from me as he stormed up to them, seemingly rattling the room with the enraged slam of his footsteps. Then he addressed them.

"I will tell you deep state wannabee FUCKHEADS the same thing I told your boss, the head of homeland security, and the chief of the CDIA . If you kidnap a civilian rescue by rerouting one of my medical transports, operating WITHIN my operational zone again, I WILL PERSONALLY DRAG YOUR SORRY EXCUSES OF A WASTE OF FEDERAL FUNDING KICKING AND SCREAMING TO THE NEAREST TANK DEPOT, HAVE YOU TIED TO AN ABRAMS, AND THEN DRAGGED AROUND UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING LEFT BUT A SAD FRAYED ROPE FLAPPING IN THE WIND. DO I MAKE MY SELF CLEAR?" And by the time he had finished screaming, he was almost right on top of them.

In what might be the first display of every emotion I've seen, Donny's mask cracks as he gives a meek nod in return. Don however continues to act stone faced and unscathed.

"Get her out of here, express route. I'm going to have some words with this facility's commander and deal with these two." He says as he jabs a finger at me without breaking eye contact with the agents.

The second man who had been standing by the door stepped forward, offering me a hand and carefully pulling me to my feet. That's when I noticed he wasn't military, at least not like the very angry one staring the agents down. His uniform, for lack of a better word, is a cross between some sort of construction worker and soldier. A camo pattern BDU covered by construction overalls, the pockets lined with various gadgets and gizmos I don't recognize. On his hands he has comically large safety orange colored gloves and the whole outfit is completed by work boots and a flimsy fake plastic construction hat. Definitely a defender, any normal soldier dressing like that would get their shit wrecked by whoever handles that kinda stuff.

"You sure sir? It'll take me a few months to make another one." He asks.

"Yes. I do not want her getting intercepted mid transport again. Colonel Hacket will know what to do once she lands."

"Alright." The overalls wearing defender replies, pulling out a strange two inch wide disk and dropping it to the ground between us.

It lands with a clatter but doesn't bounce away, instead releasing a hiss and expanding outwards to just under two feet in diameter with a mechanical whirl.

"Alright, step on the pad and press the button in the center with your foot. Make sure nothing's hanging off the sides or you'll lose it, limbs included. Reception should be expecting you."

"Um, what?" I ask, confused and a bit indignant. I've never seen or heard of anything like this before. And quite frankly I'm already sick of being bounced from one underground shit hole to another.

"Jesus kid, you need a written invitation or something. We're teleporting you out." Hard hat replies.

"To Where?"

"Base Camp at the weapons factory on the outskirts of Shimerview."

"How do I know…"

"Kid. Get. On. The. Pad! Your Father will be waiting for you." The high ranking military man growls at me, shooting me a hell of an angry side glare.

"Fine!" I grumble, realizing that of course I don't have a choice in the matter, and this is going to at least be the path of least resistance.

I step forward onto the pad, positioning myself over the button and stepping on it extra hard as a means of showing my displeasure. The device hums for a moment before it flashes, suddenly everything is upside down and getting farther away with black rapidly crashing in from the sides. The last thing I hear before it all disappears is "Oh, and try not to puke!"

………………………………………………

"Anvastaaaaaaaa! Your experiment broke my toys! Now my fun is ruined and….. oh, it's you. Creepy fucker."

"Lord Bayloroth, Lady Anvasta is still out on business. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit."

"You know why I'm here. Aren't you supposed to see everything? Creepy eyes for wings….. whatever the hell you are!"

"Would you prefer I open them?"

"NO, NO! Keep them closed, please! No one wants to be stared at by those things!"

"A pity. And your request for remediation is denied."

"You haven't even heard me out!"

"I do not need to, I witnessed you babbling to yourself about what you were going to demand."

"I thought you….. never mind, why not!?"

"You were warned of our interest in her, you chose to play with her anyway. You were warned of her presence, you chose to not avoid it. You were warned she was protected, you chose to endanger her."

"Wait wait wait wait wait, the nine circles of hell do you mean protected?"

"......."

"OK, I may have been…. Placing some of my attention elsewhere during some of Anvasta's explanations."

"Of course you were. Our interest had several powerful protections upon her, the kind to manipulate the universe to alter chance and survival. These protections were exercised to an extreme degree due to your actions. While we are joyed that they have proven effective and their results as grand as expected, their premature discharge by your shenanigans is…. Vexing."

"Hey, it's not my fault…. Ok it might be slightly my fault, but not enough to be my fault! But you expect me to believe that? I may be the youngest demon lord, but even I would have sensed something like that when I was on top of her. Besides, she couldn't have triggered a legendary event with protections like that."

"So you believe."

"Yea I do believe it! Magic has rules, you can't just manufacture a legendary event! Short of getting a god killed anyway."

"So you believe."

"You're not bluffing?"

"We do not lie, a remnant of our old nature, Lord Bayloroth."

"But, but magic wouldn't have performed the legendary event, not like that at least! You can't fool magic!"

"Who said we were fooling it?"

"I…. Then what? ...... oh, oh no no no no no! By the heavens above and the hells below! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! Are you trying to restart the war with the heavens?!"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Lord Bayloroth. You have played your part well, even if you overstepped to some degree. Your request is still denied. Now if there is nothing else, I have other matters to attend to."

"Hold on, we aren't done here. You're going to HEY CLOSE THOSE EYES! Alright alright I get it, I'm leaving! Damned angel freak!"

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