The lighting here was golden rather than the cold fluorescent white of the corridors. Bookshelves lined one wall, and at the center of the room, four couches were arranged around a glass table that doubled as a small aquarium, currently empty.
"Why is a room like this hidden?" Jon asked.
"It's not hidden," Andre answered. "Just tucked away. Most rooms in the Hall are. You can tell where one is by studying the lines in the wall. This is just a lounge — used when the Council has visitors. Make yourselves comfortable."
Behind them, the wall slid shut. Chloe twitched slightly at the sound.
"You're not prisoners," Andre reiterated. "Sure, you haven't got many friends here given that an entire district was destroyed on your watch, but we're not trying to keep you locked up."
"What do you mean by that?" Jon interrupted.
Andre frowned. "What? Your district did get destroyed."
"And that's our fault?" Aiden asked.
"You're Pandorans. Lost Ones," Andre said, crouching by a cabinet and pulling out a bag of chips. He tore it open and stuffed a handful into his mouth, chewing noisily while the others watched with expressions ranging from confusion to bewilderment. "The district was your responsibility," he continued, his voice muffled by chips. "By extension, its destruction falls on you."
He moved to the fridge, pulled out a canned soda, popped it open and downed it in one go, then tossed the empty can across the room into the bin. He found a couch, dropped onto it, and dug his hand back into the bag. He looked up, noticed the expressions still on their faces, and frowned. "What? Don't tell me you're upset about me calling it like it is."
"How are you doing that?" Chloe asked, eyeing him.
"Doing what?" He glanced at the chips, then back at them. Something dawned on him. "Oh — I forget some of the older ones had dietary restrictions. You can't process anything other than blood, can you? I saw a man once try to eat a piece of chocolate cake and he didn't stop retching for an hour."
"What are you?" Jon demanded, eyes narrowed.
"Pandoran," Andre answered, still chewing. "Like you. Only slightly newer. More refined. I still need blood the same as you do, but I've got a broader range of appetite."
"And Erwin?" Chloe asked. "Is he like you?"
Andre snorted. "Not remotely. He's closer to you than he is to me. Erwin is what we call Special Rank here — Generation Zero. Among the very first Pandorans ever made, and that's no small thing. The first generation were—,"
"Unstable," Jon murmured. "Driven by base animal instinct. Fueled entirely by rage and bloodlust, devoid of human inhibition. They had to be put down."
"Most of them," Andre corrected. "There were a few exceptional cases — individuals so deeply motivated, so laser-focused on specific goals, that those goals kept them tethered to their humanity. They were able to tame the wilder instincts, able to function in regular society. At the time, of course, people had strong reservations about the Pandora Project, especially given how badly most of Generation Zero had turned out, so these success stories had to be concealed. Their records expunged entirely."
"And Erwin was one of them?" Jon asked.
Andre nodded. "The Special Ranks are considerably stronger than the rest of us. Faster, sharper senses, better in every measurable way. But as things got worse, even they weren't enough in number to handle what was coming. So newer generations followed. With each one, greater stability was the goal. The samples drawn from the angry gods were constantly diluted, blended with other compounds, re-engineered. Based on the files I've seen on you, you're all fourth generation."
"And you?"
"Sixth." Andre held up six fingers. "Fifth generation didn't go particularly well either, so I suppose you could say I'm the generation that came directly after yours. Officially speaking."
"How many more like Erwin are there?" Chloe asked.
Andre shrugged. "Don't know. Don't think the Council does either. The only one privy to that kind of information would be the President himself. Reginald Lincoln."
"Lincoln," Chloe said. "Like your badge."
Andre glanced at the emblem on his sleeve, then back at her. Rather than answer, he simply smiled and returned to his chips.
"I hate him," Lucas growled a few minutes later, as they sat in the silence of the lounge, broken only by the rhythmic crunch of chips and the occasional satisfied grunt from Andre's direction.
Andre glanced over at Lucas when he spoke and simply winked. Lucas growled in return.
"Ignore him," Chloe said, doing her best to block out the crunching and the smell. She didn't have to endure it long — after only ten minutes, Andre sat upright, raised a hand to his left ear and got to his feet.
"Meeting's done," he announced.
He led them back to the elevator, all of them arriving just as the doors opened and Hardy and Jin stepped out, both unharmed. Jin, however, looked deeply annoyed.
"What happened?" Jon folded his arms. "What do they want?"
"Well, I'm officially a former Chancellor," Hardy announced with a heavy sigh. "Not that I didn't see that coming. They'll figure out what to do with me later, but as of now, I am no longer a commanding officer to any of you."
"They're pinning what happened to the district on you?" Chloe asked.
"They have to pin it on someone," Hardy said, shrugging. "They're not willing to make it public knowledge that we're dealing with an alien invasion. They need a cover story, and I make a decent one."
"That's absurd!" Jon said angrily. "They—,"
"It's the right thing to do," Hardy said, his tone calm and resigned. "If they went public with it, there'd be panic. Possibly an uproar. And there's no telling how badly things might escalate, what people might try to take into their own hands."
"So they're just going to bury this?" Lucas asked. "Pretend it didn't happen? How do we explain her?" He gestured toward Jin.
"They'll register her in the databases as a product of the Pandora Project. For official purposes, she's a member of your unit as of now. She goes where you go, no exceptions. They also want to run tests on her — examine the power source, examine her blood and what it can do."
"I am no lab rat," Jin hissed, and Chloe knew immediately that this was the source of her displeasure.
"So this is it?" Jon asked. "That's all?"
"For now, yes." Hardy nodded. "You'll receive deployment orders soon enough, probably sending you elsewhere once they're done with whatever tests they want to run. And I suppose I get to enjoy retirement a little earlier than I'd planned."
"Hardy, I—," Jon began.
"Don't," Hardy said quietly. He smiled, and his eyes gleamed slightly. He placed a hand on Jon's shoulder and cleared his throat. "It's for the best," he said. "Take care of them, would you?" He nodded toward Chloe and the others.
Jon nodded. "Of course."
"Good man." Hardy patted his shoulder, then walked past, making his way toward the exit and disappearing from view within seconds.
A minute passed in total silence — nothing but the sound of their own heartbeats, eyes cast down at the floor. Then Jon cleared his throat.
"No point standing around. The situation's changed. That's part of the job. We adapt and we keep going." He looked at Andre. "Is there somewhere for us to stay?"
"Yeah." Andre nodded. "Come on, I'll show you to your new home."