Time ticked on. It didn't matter. How long had Nihil been trapped here? It could've been a couple of days, it could've been years. She didn't care. There was no day or night down here- it was always the same for her. Just sitting. Existing. She ate when food came. She did nothing else. Existence was all there was. To one observing her cell she might appear to be a painting. She never moved, didn't seem to even breath. The image of a person defeated. On the outside she appeared all but dead. On the inside the same words echoed in her head: [i]Kill Dalton[/i]. That the only thought that inhabited her, the only reason for which she subsisted. Had she gone insane? That was a pointless question.

She was never sane in the first place.

She was sitting against the wall, head down turned, when something came through the door. It was her food... no, something else. An envelope. She might've just sat there, continuing to exist pointlessly. She probably wanted to. But a memory came back to her. She'd been here before, hadn't she? No, a place like it. And this had happened before. She still had it- she wouldn't let them take it. They allowed her that much. The note, pressed against her chest, placed securely under her bra. She begrudgingly rose from her seat, taking tentative steps towards the envelope. She picked up the parcel- it had weight to it. Not a piece of paper. She opened the container, extracting from it a PDA. [b][i][color=darkred]Orders?[/color][/i][/b] She shook her head. Old habits. [b][i][color=darkred]Of course not. I'm not in that place anymore.[/color][/i][/b]

The PDA suddenly came to life as the room died. The device was the only illumination remaining. And then a voice came through. She listened patiently. They weren't orders from the General, but they might as well have been. The same commanding tone, the same expectation of being followed. She hated it. She would've hit no. She would've cast the device away, thrown it against the wall, accepted death. She didn't care. She still didn't. But then she remembered, she remembered her hate and her rage and her need to kill General Dalton Brook. She couldn't accept death her. She sighed, tentatively hitting the thumbs up.

[b][i][color=Darkred]Time to leave, I guess.[/color][/i][/b]

The voice spoke again. She listened patiently again. What, did you think she would ignore him out of apathy? She was indeed apathetic, but she was made for following orders. As the screen dimmed she slipped the device in her back pocket. The doors started to slide open. She felt strength flowing back into her. She felt a power she hadn't felt for some time. As the door slowly separated she stretched. Her limbs ached, not having moved for some time. Finally the breadth of the facility was revealed. She took in her surroundings. Five robots. The path lead directly to the 'wind tunnel'. Around her other cells were opening, some of their captives already revealing themselves. She analyzed her new 'allies'. 

The first was a strange creature, appearing to be closer to some grotesque deception of an alien than a human. He emerged from the cell with a furor, waving his fist and shouting about conquering Earth.

[b][i][color=Darkred]How annoying.[/color][/i][/b]

The next one to come was Human. Male. He was also yelling expletives and encouraging the group to move, assuming some ridiculous martial arts pose.

[b][i][color=Darkred]They're both annoying. I already regret leaving.[/color][/i][/b]

The rest of them were still emerging from their cells

She sighed. She would have no patience for their showmanship. She was ready for action. Directly outside of her cell was a robot guard, standing ready to confront the escapees. She poised herself for combat, bracing herself low against the ground. She suddenly pounced, springing from the confined rooms towards the robot. She appeared as a blur to the others. Dispatching it was easy enough. She wasn't exceptionally strong but she had a great amount of momentum, moving exceptionally fast. The force of her fist moving at the speed that it was had been enough to punch a large dent in the robot's 'face', disrupting it's internal circuitry and causing it to fall to the ground. As she made contact with the ground there was a distinct pain in her fist. She just sent it against solid steel, of course it was hurting. But she had been trained to ignore it. She hardly felt it. She strode over to the now disabled machine. It didn't hold a weapon. She was disappointed.

She turned back towards the other cells, her face indicating that she was somewhat impatient.