Years spent in the bowels of Resoom facility, have gutted you of memory. How many operations? How much taken, sold, taken again? The door swung open with much more force then expected today, the white lab coats you're used to seeing replaced by the white fur of the figure rapidly approaching the operating table. A knife cuts straps, ports disconnect from your spine, the floor feels so incredibly cold on your feet.

Hey, hey! shh- sh- don't talk, just move. Your eyes meet and then move on, running down the white hall-ways.

You- you don't know much, o-or I don't know what you know huff but your getting far away from here ok? an errant guard happens upon you, the fox cutting him down in seconds. He drags you past the blood pooling on the floor

Almost there look ahead. The fox takes a sharp left, almost shoving you through two heavy steel doors. You see the sky after so long, stars wreathe the pale moon like expensive tinsel. Under it all a van sits parked, headlights cutting through the darkness, its doors swing open as you're practically thrown inside.

There... Silver waves to a hyena at the wheel as the van lurches forward. The other person there, a large tiger man, reads quietly.

Silver practically tosses you into the seat next to the tiger, exchanging one curt word Rest, we'll talk when you aren't half dead ok?