6253/The Framework: Decent Into Hell (II)

The Framework: Decent Into Hell (II)
Date of Scene:	15 May 2021
Location:	The Sphere (Bunker BT-01), Deep Beneath Manhattan
Synopsis:	Fitz leads a recovery team to find the Sphere's manufacturing hub so they can steal the schematics they need to better understand the immersion pods. Unfortunately, walking into the manufacturing hub means walking into the spider's lair... Retrieving the data doesn't go quite as planned.
Cast of Characters:	Melinda May, Jack Nolan, Leopold Fitz
Tinyplot:	The Framework

---

Melinda May has posed:
The Sphere has become a busy place since the initial battle to secure it. Daisy and a whole crew of technicians are down in the pod chamber down a side corridor off the base of the complex. Others have set about securing the passage between the main access hatch on the mid-level of the twelve-storey complex and the pod chamber far below.

This has meant installing repulsor lifts to allow the quicker movement of materiel and personnel between levels -- rather than depending on the Sphere's built-in lift system. ('Cause nobody trusts that.) It has also meant erecting a series of interconnected disruptor fields to keep the mechanical monsters at bay. There haven't been any more of them seen since SHIELD engineer Finley Ellison came up with the idea of turning the biomechanical tentacles into a giant electromagnet and used it to set off another EMP. But that doesn't mean they aren't still out there...

Still, in order to understand how these pods works and perhaps find a way to disengage them so they can move the agents to safer ground, Fitz has been charged with taking a small team out into the darkness to try to find just where the power is coming from and perhaps even find the manufacturing facilities that created the mechanical creatures in the first place. He is joined by a small team of support agents and technicians, most of whom are armed to the teeth -- including power armor and disruptor-based weapons, with the hope they'll make it back to base camp in one piece. Standing on the main level, where the primary access hatch stands, they survey the map SHIELD Agent Mark McLaren and SWORD Agent Lars Anderson have managed to scan together. Both McLaren and Anderson are up to their necks in work for Daisy. But Agents Piper and Davis have joined Fitz on this walkabout. "So," Piper says, looking at the Scottish rocket scientist, "where to, boss?"

Jack Nolan has posed:
If there's one thing Jack Nolan knows about himself, it's that he fills a unique niche in SHIELD. It's probably why he's stuck around even after mutating. Not many highly trained agents who also have superhuman durability and strength.

So when it comes down to the battle in the Sphere, he's there to assist and, at least if you asked him off the record, to smash the hell out of some robots. Still, as he moves along with the Fitz lead group, he can't help but wonder how HYDRA manages to build stuff like this totally under the noses of SHIELD and everyone else. You'd think someone would notice and report it.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
The Sphere is still a rather impressive achievement all things considered, buried deep beneath the city of New York, beneath the subway tunnels and sewers, even beneath the service tunnels that criss-cross the island of Manhatten. THat doesn't make it any less creepy however. Especially to someone who has seen the automated defenses of this facility in action. The fact that the place has been 'secured' only brings a little comfort to Agent Leo Fitz.

Standing atop one of the upper platforms that ring the facility, looking out over the central core, Fitz rests his hands on the railing and watches as the various other teams move about the facility. It certainly looks a whole lot safer then it did the last time he was here. But looks can be deceiving. Still, he's a field agent now! He can lock those feelings away deep inside and let them gnaw away at him until he gets an ulcer or has a nervous breakdown.

Just like any other good field agent.

"All the way down," he says, pointing out over the railing at the lowest level of the immense undergorund base. "There's service tunnels down there. The power supply that we shorted out the first time to get out of this hell hole was down one of them. Chances are any heavy manufacturing facilities will also be down there," he says with a degree of confidence that he doesn't necessarily feel. It makes sense to be sure. But logic doesn't neccessarily mean all that much when you're dealing with things like this.

Either way, Fitz turns and starts clamoring down the metal-grate staircases, his pack hefted over one shoulder as the sound of footfalls of metal echoes through the immense open area.

Melinda May has posed:
The team follows Fitz as he makes his way deeper into the complex. The maps McLaren and Anderson made suggest that, yes, the power distribtution hub is definitely down there somewhere. But the manufacturing facilities? Those have yet to be isolated. Even so, as the reach the bottom and move to the edge of the secure fields, Piper adjusts her disruptor rifle and sets her helmet in place. Sure, the techs have managed to pump out all the poison gas that was in the place after the battle, replacing it with fairly fresh oxygen. But she's not taking any chances.

The gas May's team encountered this last time was different than the poison stuff that drove them off the first time, way back in January. No, the new stuff was a unique mix of a heavy sedative laced with a derivative of sodium pentathol -- in other words, it can knock you out *and* make you highly suggestable. Needless to say, Bio has done a *lot* of speculating about that and just how it relates to the immersive simulation May and the others are trapped in. Piper would rather not experience that.

She eases out beyond the disruptor field, Davis at her shoulder. Together, they spread out a little, covering the group's flanks as they make their way out into the darkness. "Yeah," she says dryly. "This isn't creepy at all..."

Jack Nolan has posed:
"Everyone who needs it has protective gear in case we run into that gas, right?" Jack asks the group, being the last one to follow them down the ladder.

Just in case his weight breaks it.

So far he's managed to keep from destroying any of the infrastructure. Gotta hand it to HYDRA they know how to build secret underground lairs. "So do we know what we're looking for? Not that I'd know it if I saw it but I mostly mean as far as design wise?" He pauses, "Or is it one of those things that once we see it, it'll be real obvious what we were looking for?"

Leopold Fitz has posed:
It helps, at least a little, that there are other teams scattered about the immense underground base. It means that there is noise, rather then an overwhelming and increasingly ominous quiet about the Sphere. But it's a big place and the service tunnels run out from the main area, seemingly cut into the very bedrock itself. And the further one goes from the open expanse of the Sphere, the more muted everything gets.

He looked over the composition of the gas -- from both ventures into this underground rat's nest. Chemistry is better then biology to be sure, but it still strays far enough from his main love that he would hardly consider himself an expert. Sure, maybe he knows more then ninety-nine point nine nine percent of the population, but that leaves a goodly number of people better suited to the task of analyzing and speculating on the purpose of the gas. A few of them are even employed by SHIELD. Either way, what he saw was a little concerning. But the place is secure now, right? This is a simple clean-up OP now. Nothing ever goes wrong or unexpected on those.

"That's why they pay us the big bucks. Oh, wait..." Fitz retorts sardonically as they push a little further down the first and most likely passage that could lead to their objective. Where others draw their weapons, the dark-haired scientist is a little more concerned with the flickering lights further down the passage. "I hope that's just more power fluctuations," he mutters sourly. "Another seventy-five, hundred feet or so. That's the most likely spot for their to be a chamber large enough to house the manufacturing on the scale we're looking for," he supplies.

See? Seventy-Five feet. They're practically ontop of their objective. A few hours of work and they can be out of here.

Melinda May has posed:
Oh, they've all got their protective gear. It's not even a question that needs to be asked. Thus, both Piper and Davis assume Jack's question is rhetorical -- a case of nerves at being so deep under ground and in what is, despite everything, a very alien environment. Like most agents, they can respect that. So, neither responds with more than an adjustment of their weapons and torches.

Piper tracks those flickering lights, raising her rifle so the site and the light on it shines straight down. "Looks clear," she says cautiously. Notably, she doesn't move any faster, sliding ahead one slow, crossing side step at a time. "Davis?"

On the other flank, sweeping his barrel and light down the far wall, Davis says briefly, "Clear so far." He really hopes it remain so. His wife is pregnant. He'd like to get home to her in one piece. "What are we looking for?" he asks Fitz, echoing Jack. "You think the manufacturing facilities will give us answers into the pod hook-ups?" Piper's the combat engineer, not him. He's the S&R guy. But they've worked togethr long enough, he's picked up a few things.

Jack Nolan has posed:
"I mean those pods gotta get built somewhere." Jack says in response to Davis. Letting the two of them continue to take up the flanks, he scans behind the group to ensure they're not being snuck up on. Not that much stuff is going to PHYSICALLY be able to get past him in a confined space like this.

"If we can find one that's not in use maybe we can figure out how it works. Pull it inside out without any risk to anybody and figure out how to disconnect folks." At least that's his best idea. He initially wanted to just hit the pod until it spat out the occupant but was talked down from that idea.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Caution is good. Caution might very well save their lives so while it might be creepy down here, Fitz would rather they take a half hour to scout out this particular tunnel then rushing blindly ahead. Just because the initial scouts think they found any potential traps or sources of danger doesn't necessarily mean that they did. A lot of work was put into creting this facility and maybe even more was put into securing it. Carelessness is not an option.

Still, so far so good and as Piper and Davis report that everything is all clear, Fitz allows them to pick up the pace just a little, pulling out his portable scanner to see what readings he can pick up while giving an absent nod Jack's way. "It would be difficult to bring in too much of the infrastructure down here. They likely built most of it on site. It's like the pods were included. That suggests a manufacturing center on site. If we can find it there is quite likely to be a full set of schematics for those pods, probably for a lot of the items onsite. That could cut down on our time in figuring out what everything does considerably. And potentially note particularly dangerous, but hidden devices," he agrees almost casually.

While somewhat distracted, Fitz's brow still furrows as he studies the device in his hand, peering over the readings. "Look for either a side opening into a very large room. Or the passage itself should start opening up into a chamber. Probably several hundred feet in width and depth and at least fifty feet high. Not as big as the Sphere, but a good size."

Melinda May has posed:
"Copy that," Piper says in response to Fitz. She glances to Davis who nods and reaches up to adjust helmet briefly. Time for a haircut, it seems, since he slides a bit of hair out of one eye and tucks it up under the edge of the helmet.

They continue forward. In time, they find themselves at the mouth of a secondary chamber cut right into the basalt bedrock of the island. It rises some fifty to seventy five feet into the air and is at least twice that around. Davis lets out a low whistle. "How many *years* did this take to hollow out?" Probably quite a few. And the walls show signs of being scraped in some places, drilled in others, and lasered in others. This was a massive project that has been added to and kudged together extensively over the decades.

Notably, however, it is not entirely empty. Indeed, while there are certain interface consoles -- most of them technology from the 80's and 90's -- suitable for human interaction, the room is crawling with the spiderbots that have been seen moving throughout much of the rest of the complex. They cluster at the highest levels, far above the agents' heads, only a few of them on the lower level where they are. "Anyone bring some EMPs?" Davis asks nervously.

Jack Nolan has posed:
"I did not." Jack replies, as he looks ahead to Fitz, "Would we want to use one down here and risk damaging the equipment?" He wonders, as he keeps his eyes on the spider bots above them. He's ready to lash out and smash them if they try to drop on top of the team or anything like that. But there sure are a lot of them up there, as far as he can tell, "Do we have time to set up one of those disruptor fields?"

Leopold Fitz has posed:
The whole project shows incredible detail and planning and if it clearly wasn't done for horribly nefarious purposes Fitz would be incredibly impressed. As it is he is only moderately impressed and somewhat horrified instead. Still, even knowing what to expect, what would make sense from a design perspective it is rather surprising when they come across it.

Like the others, the dark-haired scientist peers around the room and up towards the ceiling with a little anxiety at all teh spiderbots that seem to have clustered in the room. But only a little anxiety. It makes a big difference, not having these things sneaking up on them in the dark, out of clouds of poisonous gas. Seeing them, knowing what they look like and how they operate does make a considerable difference.

One always fears most that which they do not properly know or understand afterall.

"Would I let you all down?" Fitz asks, a little more calm then he might actually feel, and he swings that pack down off his shoulder, setting it down in the entrance to that facility and opening it up revealling the hefty stockpile of EMP grenades.

Hey, he's been here before too. He knew what to expect and he did not come to mess around.

Certainly Jack's point is fair and Fitz nods before adding a little clarification. "Try to avoid throwing them towards any of the machinery and especially the computer terminals or we risk frying the circuit boards. I wouldn't count on any of the electronics being hardened. They have about a fifteen foot burst so try to aim accordingly and if you're in doubt don't throw. Unfortunately, we'd need to clear them out before setting up a field. Otherwise they'll be attacking us the whole time and believe me, you want your wants free when they come at you," he says as he dispenses his toys.

Just like Santa. Good ol' Fitz Clause.

Melinda May has posed:
Piper picks up half a dozen of the grenades. "Where do you wanna go, Fitz?" she asks the scientist. She looks at Davis. "We'll clear the way."

Davis stoops down to pick up a few as well. "Oh, yeah. This oughta be fun." Somehow, he sounds more aprehensive than enthused. He extends a fist to Piper, who bumps it with her own. Then, the pair move out so they're about ten feet apart and start taking aim with their disruptor rifles at the spiders that are already starting to come towards the small team. Blue energy streaks from their barrels, crackling over any bot they hit, sending it into seizures.

The first half dozen go down, and the rest come swarming down.

Jack Nolan has posed:
Jack bends over and grabs a couple of the EMP grenades, and then arms them both and lobs them as deep into the approaching spider bots as he can, giving a few seconds between each throw. Then he draws his sidearm and starts to fire into the group.

He's really here for the close in support so he can start smashing away at them when they get within range. After all Piper and Davis should be able to hold a lot of them off with the rifles, and Jack can take care of them when they get close to those two or Fitz. It should work, but they have a lot to smash through.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
Peering into the room, Fitz lets his gaze roam over the fabrication machinery and the computer terminals, forcing himself to ignore the spiderbots as a consideration entirely. It doesn't matter how many there might be between them and their goal. They'll deal with them, "Mmmmm, there," he says, pointing towards the largest of the assemblange devices, the hulking metal object all dull grey and lifeless for the moment. "See that terminal, about fifteen feet along it's north side? That's likely the main fabricator and that would make it the main terminal. The full suite of schematics are likely going to be found there," he says.

This time the confidence isn't faked for force. This is his wheelhouse. Technology is his thing. "Lets clear that path."

In the not so recent past Fitz would have simply concentrated on his objective, his part of the mission. Get to the terminal, get what they need and rely on the rest of the team to keep him safe. His time in the field with Lance has made him a little more useful in that regard. So he takes a few of the grenades for himself, hefts the pack back up over one shoulder and falls into formation, forming a sort of circle with the others, keeping his attention focused on their rear as he walks backwards through the room, eyeing that milling mass wearily.

And when those spiderbots start to swarm? He's right there with the rest of them, chucking his EMP grenades their way, pitching them towards the wall that hte bots skitter down, well away from the machinery and computer terminals.

Each grenade that hits gives a satisfying burst of blue energy and one, two, a half dozen spiderbots fall from their perch, twitching and spasming before adding to the growing collection of lifeless robotic threats littering the floor around them.

Melinda May has posed:
"I see it," Piper says, tossing another grenade at an approaching cluster of bots. They dance and then fall dormant in a flash of blue energy. "Not gonna ever get tired of seeing that," she mutters to Davis, who does likewise, tossing a grenade a little further along.

"Got that right," he says to his partner. Then he moves with her, starting to slowly head toward the terminal Fitz indicated. His disruptor rifle whines, firing on automatic as he takes aim at some of the critters closer to the terminal. Can't hit them with a grenade without taking out the terminal itself. So, good aim and a GI Joe laser weapon will have to do.

Nevertheless, there are *a lot* of spiderbots. They range in size and design from dog-sized monsters out of an 80's sci-fi flick to hamster-sized critters more suitable to a modern CGI masterpiece. And they're fast. EMP grenades are effective 90% of the time because of their dispersal. Distruptor fire is less reliable, depending on aim and luck in the dark. The fact the damned things seem to be adapting doesn't help. They start piling up to create barriers between themselves and their fellows, some of them taking the hits for the sake of others who are able to get a lot closer before they start dropping down into the midst of the team from above.

Jack Nolan has posed:
Now Jack has seen Star Trek, so he knows how the whole thing with the borg adapting works. But he also knows that the borg can't adapt to physical attacks. So he figures that these things might fall under that same theory. Or at least that's what he's hoping for.

As soon as they start dropping down towards the team he forgoes the grenades and the gun and starts smashing them with his fists and clawed talons and even his tail depending on where they're coming from, "There's gotta be a source of these things!"

Leopold Fitz has posed:
The perhaps disturbing thing out of all of this is that as strange as it all is, it's far from being the most unusual thing any of them has ever had to deal with. That's life in SHIELD though. The stories they could tell. If it wasn't all classified of course.

"Self-adapting programing. There's some A.I. in there. Pretty impressive considering how long ago these designs look to have been brought online," Fitz says, talking to himself as if making mental notes as much as trying to inform the rest of the team. It might be nice if he didn't sound quite so impressed by the technology that is now seemingly intent on swarming over all of them and leaving them lifeless husks. Bad for morale and all that.

Either way, as the path clears and he nears the terminal he pays a little less attention to protecting their flanks and a little more to the task ahead, fishing through his pack to get out the necessary devices while also trying to keep an eye on the scanning device in one hand, the thing wobbling crazily as he tries to clutch both it and his pack at the same time. "Not necessarily," Fitz says to Jack. "As the disruptor fields went up there might have been hundreds or thousands of these things herded down into these side passages," he points out. "That said, it does look like one of the small fabricators is still operational judging by these power readings that I'm getting. If it was hooked into the security defenses they could be replicating new units I suppose," he muses thoughtfully. "It's all the way across the room though, far corner," he says even as he settles himself at the terminal.

Melinda May has posed:
Piper and Davis attempt to set up a defensive perimeter to protect Fitz. Of the four of them, he's the priority. They need to be able to get him back out again. Piper crouches behind an older terminal and starts firing a wide burst shot at the swarms. Davis immitates her, adding some grenades to the mix. As the critters start dropping from above, however, he swears. "I don't think we can make it to the fabricator. Do what you need to do, doc, but hurry!"

Some of the larger critters drop onto Jack's sturdy form. Many of them are shaken off by his efforts, smashed into their companions and scattered across the floor. One of them settles between his shoulderblades, however, latching its feet into the nanomesh of his clothing. A red laser emerges from its head, pointing at the back of his neck, near his brainstem.

Shadows move above them, screened by swarms swinging along draping wires. Small blue dots descend from the ceiling, falling swiftly closer on the ends of long, animated cables.

Jack Nolan has posed:
Jack's plan might not have been the best in retrospect, though he's trying to get as many of the bots away from him as he can. The one that jumps onto his back seems to be just out of reach, as he tries to claw it off the back of his head, "Get off you son of a bitch!" He yells, trying to find some way to free himself from the grip of it, while also fending off many others that are piling on.

Even as everything is happening to him, he also has to try to make sure they don't get to Fitz, because his big 'ol brain is way more important than Jack is.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
He is admittedly not dealing with up to date technology here, no matter how advanced it was for it's time. Nor has it seen regular servicing. It's old and not functioning all that well but Fitz gives a tight nod to Davis' words. "I need just a few," he agrees. A few hours would be ideal, but he will do his best with the few minutes, perhaps only the few seconds that they actually have at their disposal.

One of these days it might be nice to work on one of these projects when he has the opportunity to take a more leisurely approach. You know, just to change it up a little.

He taps rapidly at the keyboard, a frown marking his features as he starts to dig into the root directory to get access to the file list and structure, the black and green readout not exactly the most condusive to reading. But you make due with what you got. And while he regrets every second spent scanning the list that scrolls across the screen, there's little he can do to hurry up that process. Fortunately it is only about twenty seconds before he spots the necessary directory. "Okay, I'm pulling the data. Just keep them off us for a few more," he says, the data downloading as he idly pulls up the schematic to the pods.

His eyes widen as he quickly flashes over the data, surprise filtering over his expression. That's what they do? So that means the gas... "Done," he snaps, that tension level ramped right up. "Lets get out of here. We need to get back to the others immediately," he says that calm, cool collected Fitz gone.

Melinda May has posed:
Those blue lights drop like lead weights from the gulf above. Without full disruptor fields, the four are vulnerable. A large centipede -- only half the size of the ones Fitz will remember from his first visit to the site -- falls into their midst. Its upper suite of limbs reach out to wrap around Jack, enclosing him in a heavy bearhug... Well. Robopede hug, really.

Still, it's like cage has wrapped around him. And as that spider's laser burns through the back of his neck, the centipede spits a neurotoxin directly into his body. It's an injection that mimics the gas they recently vented from the space -- a potent mix of sedative and truth serum. Cables lance down and spear into him, wrapping around his body and beginning to hoist him up.

More cables lance down. Piper and Davis move to flank and surround Fitz. "Nolan!" Piper shouts as she sees him wrapped in the centipede's limbs. But then, she's too busy firing her disruptor up into the mess of mechanical vines trying to snag her to be able to help him.

"We need to run!" Davis shouts over the noise of rifle fire and the crashing of metal around them. "Run, now!"

Jack Nolan has posed:
If one is watching him they can see Jack's struggles start to slow, and then stop entirely when the neurotoxin begins to work. His arms drop to his sides and he's very easy for the system to grab and wrap up.

Without their heavy hitter, it may be the best idea for the rest of the group to retreat until they can come down here with enough equipment to fend off the spider bots.

Leopold Fitz has posed:
In another time, in another place, Fitz would find the schematics they have recovered fascinating. Well worth the time and effort to delve into, to figure out all the hows and whys. Like the training sims that he has messed around with to some small degree but taken and expanded to the Nth degree. And unfortunately with the potential for the sort of abuse that he would like to think himself incapable of. Preferably that he could even imagine.

But there really isn't time to ponder overlong on the elegance of the science. No, top of mind is the fact that they need to get these designs back to the rest of the team. Of course the problem with that is it is not entirely within their power. The various robot deisgns seem very much intent on making escape rather impossible.

As they start to make a break for the room's exit, Fitz sees Jack get caught by those descending cables, watches as he is neatly gathered up by the robopede, wrapped up and contained. He fumbles for just a second, tossing one of those EPM grenades towards it... and watches as another of the smaller, more agile spiderbot models leaps to intercept, taking the hit well short of the target. Almost a dozen of the smaller models go down in a shower of blue sparks but not the one that counts.

And then the overwhelming numbers have Fitz hastily backpeddling, trying to keep up with Piper and Davis, resisting the impulse to insist that they stay back and try to help Agent Nolan. Because Fitz is a realist and right now the only real help they can give their fellow agent is to get out of here with the schematics.

So Fitz hurls those grenades, that stockpile in his pack rapidly diminishing until there is none left, the robots still closing in from all sides. And when they run out? He draws his sidearm. It's not a rifle like the other two agents carry, but a small model, still configured to work specifically against the robots but lacking the power or range of the heavier units. A half dozen shots are fired off quickly but competently, four more of the swarming spiderbots going down. Only hundreds more to go.

And then it happens. Backpeddling towards the service tunnel, Fitz takes a bad step, stumbling over the remains of some of the bots previously dealt with. He tries to recover his balance, tries to stay upright but a dozen of those little, hard to hit bots swarm over him, sweeping his feet completely out from under him. He tries to brace his fall, but his head snaps back, cracking into the concrete, Dazed and with another of those Robopedes bearing down on him all he can do is fumble for the tablet with the schematics, a pained expression on his face and vision shakey from the blow to his head. "Take it!" he shouts, holding it out blindly above him. "Get it back to base," he orders as that wave of spiderbots begins to rush over him just like the ocean swell rising up over a sandy beach.

Melinda May has posed:
The mechanical swarm crashes like a tidal wave over the hapless agents. Piper's hand wraps round the data Fitz holds up, but she is yanked off her feet by tentacles descending from above and pulling her up into the darkness, into the cradle of a pod. The data drive tumbles from nerveless fingers, past the rising body of James Davis as he struggles to escape the cables wrapping tightly around his throat and limbs. Micro injectors pierce Fitz's skin as he's pulled up into the high web of cables above. The data device bounces off basalt rock and rebounds across the floor, skittering into a crevass at the bottom of terminal from whence it first came.

---

ALERT. SUBECT ACQUISITION PROTOCOLS ENGAGED.

> More agents? My. They are persistant, aren't they?

AFFIRMATIVE. INITIALIZING SUBJECT INTEGRATION PROTOCOL...

"What do you mean they're all dead?"

"I'm sorry, son," the Colonel says, looking gravely into Nolan's eyes. "If there'd been any way to save them..."

"You'd have done it, yeah." Jack grimaces and turns away. "All of them? Really?"

"I'm afraid so.."

"Damn..." There's resignation in that whisper. And maybe, just maybe, a hint of relief. Jack looks at the officer. "May I be dismissed, sir?"

"Go on," the Colonel says, his gruff voice oddly understanding. "Take a few days. When you're ready, we'll be here."

"Yes, sir."

As the young soldier retreats, the phone rings. The Colonel picks it up. "Talbot." He listens. His chest swells as he inhales a deep breath, eyes widening just slightly. "Cambridge? Yes, ma'am. We'll have boots on the ground within the hour, SHIELD be damned."

...

The boy watches from the stairs, hands gripping the balustrade columns that support the bannister up above. He hears his parents argue, voices raised, shouting at one another. The blow connects mercilessly, his mother's argument suddenly cut off with the sound of a muffled cry and a thump of a body hitting the floor.

A large man storms out of the kitchen, marching towards the door with no expression on his face. It is a scene that the boy has seen over and over again. But this time the gruff man pauses, he turns those cold blue eyes towards his son and looks him over.

"I won't be leaving you behind son. I won't be leaving you to her, letting her twist your mind with her weak, womanly ways. I'll teach you how to be a man. A great man," he says, a fierce, hard pride in his voice as he extends a hand to the cowering youth, those knuckles showing telltale bruising.

And young Leopold Fitz reaches out to take his father's hand.

...

SUCCESS.