Heroism: Rise of SPAI ~ an applyfic

Chapter Eleven: Steps In The Wrong Direction

TW: f*re

They'd customised her tops to better accommodate her growing wings. In the time since the experiment, they'd grown to be equivalent to the space between the tip of her thumb and the tip of her pinky when her hand was stretched out. She was a freak.

Upon entering Mr. Lambert's office, she stumbled. He rose up, but she hissed that she didn't need help. Ever since she'd grown wings, she'd hated how she'd been treated. Most scientists were fascinated, taking measurements and eagerly scribbling down their findings. One of them - Lenora, was it? - babied her. That was worse. At least Harlow was used to being handled like an object of fascination rather than the girl she was.

As she lowered herself into the chair, she gripped the armrests so tightly that her knuckles went even whiter than they already were. Each movement was accompanied by pain. Each moment was filled with pain. She'd lie there at night, her breasts aching from her body weight, her neck turned to one side. Sleeping on her front wasn't optimal, but lying on her back was even worse. Come morning, she'd be just as tired as she'd gone to bed and her neck would ache too.

"I assume you haven't called me here because you have a cure."

"No." He smiled, a kind smile. Harlow didn't trust it.

There was a silence. Their eyes rested on each other, observing their opposite's micromovements.

"If you've got nothing to say, I think I'll just go back to my room and pity myself." She broke her stare, opting to examine her mary janes instead.

"Timothy Emile Reeves."

That name immediately got Harlow's attention. She perked back up and noticed the white envelope he was holding between two fingers. Instinctively, she reached out for it.

Mr. Lambert chuckled. "That's got you excited, hasn't it?"

"Give me my letter, please."

"You know it's against SPAI's rules to remain attached to your old life," he lectured her with a sparkle in his eyes. Nevertheless, he passed her the letter. She realised now it had been opened. This resulted in her wavering momentarily, but she still slid it out and eagerly lapped up its contents.

"Mrs. Ablington would have had me throw it away, but I see no harm in giving someone a letter from an old friend," he said.

"You know him?" Hope appeared in her eyes.

"No, I meant an old friend of yours. I'm afraid I never made Mr. Reeves' acquaintance," Mr. Lambert spoke, "But I know he must have been a good man to give up such a great talent to SPAI. It feels injust that he should get no credit."

Harlow opened her mouth to speak, followed by closing it to reconsider, then spoke at long last, "You already know what was in the letter."

It had been a remimder from her manager of what she owed him. He hadn't sent her here out of the goodness of her heart, nor for her sake. As usual, he'd been searching for ways he could profit and controlling one of the world's first superheroes had sounded very beneficial.

"Mrs. Ablington and I don't see quite eye to eye regarding how SPAI is run. Her measures are rather strict and extreme. One could even say..." He pretended to search for the right word, but Harlow had a feeling he had planned out what to say. "Inhumane."

"And?"

"Don't you want things to change? Don't you want SPAI to treat its agents as it would any employee?"

Harlow frowned and leaned back. "Sir, I don't know what kind of test this is, but I know for a fact your office will be under surveillance just like the entire facility. You won't get me to degrade Mrs. Ablington's policies on film."