Xa'Lakteth clicked his mandible together in idle thought as he made his way towards where the Human was imprisoned. Humans were a contradiction; for how hard they were to kill, it was equally difficult to take one prisoner alive. Turn your back on bleeding out, and they will pull a grenade on you. Even several of the ones "safely" captured had found ways to kill themselves in their cells, rather than risk divulging military information. It was like their only purpose for surviving was to get back at their enemies. If only they actually knew where any other human colonies were (six curses on Xa'Tentik for glassing the first two), they could maybe get some civilians who weren't trained to withstand torture. Wouldn't have much useful information, but atleast they'd be compliant...

Xa'Laktech shook himself back to the present. Right, compliance, the reason he was making his way to the Human now. Because now, for some reason, the Human had become compliant, and wanted to talk to him. He supposed that with so few captives actually held for so long, he was the lucky one with the weakest will. Still, holding out for [Months] meant most information would be severely out of date. Still, even stale meat was better than an empty bone.

The door hissed as it opened. Both the noise and the slowness of the door weren't necessary, but ONE of the things they had been able to gather with previous prisoners was fear responses, and this supposedly induced dread. As the door passed his eyes, he saw the prisoner was doing a suitable impression of a bow to a superior, head tilted sideways and down to expose the arteries on the side of the neck. Impressive, with how many bindings he was in.

"You wanted to talk." The statement was a mouthful for Xa'Lakteth to say, his inner teeth having to contort strangely. The fact he could even speak Terran without a translator was a blessing though. The mangling of speech also contributed to fear, he was told.

"Yes" The human looked up at him now, relaxed despite the pain he must be in right now. "I wanted to congratulate you. You broke John."

Xa'Lakteth didn't respond. "John Williams" was the name of this prisoner, yet the third person he was speaking in implied the person he was talking to was not John. It was almost certainly a human trick of some sort, but the exact nature was unclear enough that the best way to learn more was patience. Rushing headlong into things was what got Xa'Tentik killed by a force a tenth the size.

The human shrugged. "I guess I should give you some backstory. Humans are adaptable. If our skin is irritated, we form callouses. If we lose our vision, our hearing gets better. If we have too little to eat, our metabolism slows down." The human looked down at his body. "Those are all personal examples, but the trend continues. If something can't be overcome, than we adapt to it's existance. We can actually become dependent on them. I bet you killed more prisoners taking them OFF of drugs then putting them on them, hm?"

Xa'Lakteth nodded. Yes, that had been another error that had killed many of the prisoners. They knew better now. Humans weren't the only ones who could adapt.

"Thought as much. But tell me, do you know what happened to the mind when you push it too far? Past the breaking point? Well, it doesn't just break. It shatters. Into dozens of little pieces, little shards. John isn't here any more. He's buried somewhere in the back, what's left of him that is. And in his place, there are a dozen different voices, all here at the same time. It's really quite fascinating. Every one the result of a different torture, every one a different goal. If you can't get rid of pain, might as well enjoy it.

The human laughed then, loud and maniacal, a drastic shift from the calm talking before. Xa'Lakteth wondered then, if the Humans had a database of things that made Aliens afraid. He wondered how high on that list laughter like this was.

The human stopped laughing abruptly. "Sorry about that. Like I said, there are a bunch of us all in here. I won't always be in the front."

"If each of you have a purpose, what is yours?" Now was the right time to push for more, Xa'Lakteth decided. "And if you are not John, what shall I call you?"

"Oh, my purpose is actually to take your side. That's why I'm talking to you now, actually. And most of use don't really use names. People break and reform too often for labels to stick. But I think I'll go by Ezio, from now on. Yeah, that sounds good."

A mind shattered, and one of the pieces was on his side. It was too good to be true, Xa'Lakteth decided. "If you are on my side, could you detail the specifications of the 'Peregrine-3' strike craft?"

"I'd love to, but I can't. You see, all that stuff is locked back there with John. I don't even remember the color of the sky on Earth." Too good to be true indeed. "Also there are a couple of other shards who exist solely to try and STOP information from leaving here, so if I try and poke too deep..." Ezio mimed being shot in the head. Xa'Lakteth supposed he had seen that sight a lot enough to reproduce it so accurately. Front lines had high casualty rates. "So I don't have much room to operate, but if I get something I'll let you know." Ezio paused for a moment, seeming to focus on something. "One of the others is being, ah, insistent about getting back up front. Nothing more from me."

With that, the human broke into that horrid laughter again, twisting against his bindings as he writhed. Xa'Lakteth was glad that the walls were sound-proofed. Still, atleast now he had something to work with. He would have to figure out how to leave Ezio the only one in that mind, or atleast strong enough to do what he wanted. Maybe he could stop the torturous, to "starve out" the other shards. Mandables idly clicking, he walked back towards his own room to mull over the possibilities.

[I'm insulted Ezio, frankly. My laughter is NOTHING like that.]

{It sounds the same.}

<I'm with Ezio on this one. Great impression.>

[It's not about the sound, it's about the emotion behind it. Laughter shouldn't be calculated. It should flow freely from your heart. Like a river of crimson blood.]

<He does have a point there. Also, "my purpose is actually to take your side", really? You think he bought it?>

{Why, what did you want me to say? "My purpose is to find a way out of this hell and viciously murder you in one of the thousand ways I've dreamed of, before blowing myself up with as many of you xenocidal bugs as I possibly can."? Don't think that would help. This is the best bet.}

<Fair.>

[Mmmm, and that final explosion will be glorious. Like a blooming flower, with petals of flesh raining down...]

<Ezio, any guesses as to which shard picked up John's Poetic side?>

{Haven't the faintest clue.}