[color=GRAY][INDENT][INDENT]The fire dwindled and one by one, the remaining members of Blackjack departed, final words hanging in the air like the smoke from the now simmering coals.

The future remained uncertain, the atmosphere sense and the mood sour. Blackjack, Eclipse, the last of the teams to formally end, names that echoed across the campus. Firebird had long since packed and left, Raindance only had their drop to Gil to complete before leaving. Bulltrue, the Nice Guys and the rest were gone leaving behind ransacked dorms, discarded uniforms and forgotten armbands.

Bonds that were to be unbreakable, bonds that Hyperion sought to exploit to build an army were left strained and shattered. With the school that brought them together gone, they were adrift and rudderless. 

Many even homeless.

In the morning the ferry departed one last time, taking the students to the mainland. Some departed, heading home or to forge their own path while the rest were boarded aboard an aircraft and flown across the country before departing on another vessel bound for the infamous Foundation.[/INDENT][/INDENT][CENTER][COLOR=dimgray]
[sup]________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][img]https://i.imgur.com/q2WipLE.png[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=silver][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Foundation Institute[/I] - [I]Atlantic Ocean[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=silver][b]Human #5.024:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Madness[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=dimgray][SUP][sub]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][INDENT][sub][color=silver][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]None[/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=silver][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Before You Go[/I][/right][/SUP]
[INDENT]Salt.

Salt was the overwhelming smell as the transfers from Pacific Royal were docked at the Foundation’s floating Institute. A flotilla of interconnected pods capable of diving or separating at a moment’s notice, it was a far cry from the forested grounds that surrounded the Pacific Royal campus. 

Here, everything was identical. There was no mix-match of modern and classical architecture, character in general had been stripped away and replaced with function. Entering into the docking pod, students were greeted by attendants who immediately handed each student a pair of white scrubs before pointing them to line up for changing stations. Murmurs of discontent quickly rippled through the confused and angered students.

Outbursts were quickly met with reprimand. There seemed to be little choice but to comply as beyond the door they had entered only the endless fathoms of the ocean remained. The stainless outfits reeked of bleach, spartan designs void of any sense of personality; let alone the promised individuality, blended their wearers with the sterile walls and floors that surrounded them while blinding lights illuminated every visible blemish on each of the students. 

[color=#ffffff]“When you have changed, please deposit your personal belongings to the right for inspection. Everything that passes inspection will be returned to your assigned room. When you have completed this, please line up for your student identification.”[/color]

Several students quickly complied, lining up as they adjusted their hair and anticipating a picture before approaching the counter that awaited them.

[color=#ffffff]“Please place your left wrist in the hole to your left, underside facing up.” [/color]The attendant behind the counter stated as the first girl approached. Confused, she hesitantly complied before the opening suddenly clamped around her wrist. 

Letting out a timid squeak she relaxed as her hand was scanned. A whir echoed beneath the din of the disgruntled room before the girl let out a blood-curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh cut through the overpowering odour of bleach, singeing the nose hairs of the gathered students. Her knees buckled beneath her, tears streaming down her face before the clamp suddenly retracted, releasing the girl. She slumped to the floor, cradling her wrist against her chest as the next in line knelt down to check on her.

A ten-digit number had been branded into her wrist with a barcode directly beneath it. Beneath the skin, there was a faint glow before it disappeared.

[color=#ffffff]“Please move along, next!” [/color]The attendant ordered as the horrified students backed away. But still, there was no further option for escape. They were only delaying the inevitable. 

[color=#ffffff]“Next.”[/color] The attendant stated again, her hand hovering above a button out of view of the students before another girl gave her head a shake and stepped up. Defiantly putting her hand into the hole, she looked at the attendant before speaking.

[color=#ffffff]“Do it.”[/color]

The laser ignited and she let out a whimper but refused to break eye contact as the smell of her own burning flesh threatened to empty the contents of the girl’s stomach. Pre-emptive sobs came from a couple of the students, while others began to hyperventilate. Few were lucky enough to be blessed with the durability to withstand the pain. 

One by one, the former Pacific Royal students were painfully inducted into the Foundation, moving beyond the room before entering into a large common space that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a prison. Tables dotted the central area while a contained balcony above offered a viewing for current students who watched the PRCUers enter their school. 

Unlike the uniform-wearing Pacific Royal students, the Foundation students watching were garbed in fitted and armoured uniforms, not unlike those worn during Practical Ability Training back on the island. Murmurs of ‘fresh meat’ echoed from the balcony as the current students sized up the incoming students. Their eyes hungrily evaluated who amongst them was strong and who was prey. 

Around the base of the balcony, large colourful banners were suspended above the floor. Each depicted a member of the Institute who had been inducted into the Foundation Force, the banner emblazoned with their alias.

[i]Hyperman
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Miragal
[INDENT][INDENT]Excaliblur
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Crimson Crooner
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Steel Shell
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Day Tripper													[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]Triton[/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/i]	
[CENTER][b]Tiamat.[/b][/CENTER]
Amma’s face looked down on the students from Pacific Royal, her jet-black hair blown out and voluminous in the banner as a revealing leather number left just enough to the imagination. Her trademark red and silver crackling energy filled the image, leaving her hauntingly lifelike, near exactly as they had all last seen her.


[color=#ffffff]“Keep it moving!”[/color] The yell came from behind the Pacific Royal group, another attendant directing them out of the common space.

[color=#ffffff]“You’re to report to temporary holding.”[/color] He ordered, [color=#ffffff]“Solitary until evaluations are complete. When the door opens, you’re free to report to your quarters.”[/color] 

As the man explained, the ground entered into a hallway lined with doors on either side. Each opening to reveal a small room no more than three feet wide, by three feet deep. Completely soundproofed to isolate their occupant with enough space to allow a person to sit and wait. A bench laid mounted against the far wall before each student was placed into a holding cell and the door was closed.

Seconds later the lights went out and only darkness remained amongst the silence.[/INDENT][/INDENT][/COLOR]