"Ah, Cadet Noin. You're early." Instructor Velorn looked up from a huge pile of papers on his desk and smiled at her. Early because I couldn't sleep, answered Noin in her mind. Aloud she said,

"Yes, Sir." That seemed inadequate, even to herself, so she added as she picked up one of the papers that had floated to the floor and handed it to him, "What are all these?"

Instructor Velorn smiled again, wryly.

"Paperwork is what make the world go round, young Cadet. You'll learn that soon enough."

She stood before his desk, listening to his pen scratching as it wrote, and wondered why she was there. Five minutes later, Instructor Velorn looked at his watch and sighed in exasperation.

"That Zechs Merquise! Excellent student - the best I've ever had, but he can't go on being late like this. I'm afraid I can't wait for him. Oh! Have a seat, Noin. I didn't know you were still standing." He gestured to one of the plastic chairs in the corner. Noin remained where she was.

"No, thank you, Sir."

"Very well." He stopped writing and looked at her seriously. "I've noticed how far you've progressed in the eight months since you've arrived here. Much faster and much better than any other I've encountered. Zechs also. I called to have you here right now because I -"

The door burst open and Zechs, panting slightly, leaned on the frame.

"Sir!" he gasped out. Instructor Velorn and Noin looked at him in astonishment. They'd never seen him looking so flustered. This was not the same Zechs everyone saw - the proud coolness had been replaced by pure, unthinking alarm. They watched as Zechs steadied himself and exerted his self-control to gain a semblance of composure. "The East Wing dormitory has been attacked!"

"What!" Instructor Velorn jumped up as the piercing alarms went off.

"There were bombs set all over in the hallways - I rescued whoever I could but -" The Specials Oz officer rushed out of his office without waiting to hear more. Noin, after a fraction of a second's hesitation, followed. She glanced at Zechs as she ran out the door. He was trembling slightly, and his pupils had become slightly dilated. For a moment she thought she should stay with him until he got a hold of himself but there were other cadets in a much more serious predicament than he was. So instead she touched his shoulder briefly - he flinched - and set off to the East Wing dormitories.

Zechs sat down weakly in one of the chairs. He listened to the sounds of general pandemonium outside and tried without succeeding to still his frantically beating heart. This was just like the day Newport City was attacked. The hallway...it exploded. He could hear the screams of those still trapped inside their rooms, woken from their sleep by the most frightening of situations. It's happening again, Zechs. It will follow for the rest of your life...destroying everyone that feels the taint of your presence...The voice was delighted by the scene, too much like the one that took his family and home.

He pushed his way out of his room. No! It won't happen again...it can't it can't... He pulled several stunned cadets out of the rubble and brought them to the East Wing's lounge, which was as of yet untouched by the bombs. Just like the state meeting room. Wildly he looked to one of the tables. Sitting at the head was Father, blood dripping to the floor...he shook his head in disbelief and slowly backed out of the room. And ran.

He didn't realize where he was until he gasped out "Sir!" to Instructor Velorn. He was late for his appointment. Late again. They looked so shocked at his appearance.

Zechs brought his shaking hands up to eye level. They were bloody from pieces of shrapnel that had been embedded into his skin. It's happening again, Zechs. He remembered how Noin had touched his shoulder on her way out and the compassion in her glance. No one had touched him like that for a long time, and he had flinched from the unaccustomed sensation. But it was not only his body that flinched. His whole being, heart and soul recoiled, more from surprise than anything else.

Does she have any idea of the power she has in that glance? Zechs asked himself. It spoke without sound, reaching out and embracing his dirtied soul. It was even vaguely familiar. He drew a shuddering breath. His mother and father would sometimes look at him like that. How could I forget? Noin...it was the same glance.