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    • A really soaked and messy ABU Classico V2 diaper this morning. I'm sitting on a changing mat because I am leaking, just too wet this morning.
    • Poor will, hang in there buddy. 
    • Chapter 18: Flash in the night In the sterile glow of the command center, screens blinked and machines hummed with life. Argos, Emerson University's clandestine guardian, loomed large in its digital form. The Hellcats, their gear stained and their spirits weary, awaited the AI's report. Ghost leaned against a console, arms crossed over his chest, while Rabbit perched on a nearby stool, fingers dancing across her tablet. Wire stood at attention, the weight of the recent skirmish etched into his stance. Argos's voice filled the room, crisp and devoid of emotion. "All searches have yielded negative results. Neither Evelyn Harrow nor Aiden Ricoh nor any other littles are present on university grounds." A collective exhale rippled through the team. It was over, but not the victory they'd hoped for. Rabbit slammed her tablet down with a clatter. "So they slipped through our fingers? Just like that?" she spat out, her eyes ablaze with frustration. Wire's gaze remained fixed on a distant point. "They'll turn up," he muttered. "They always do." The room fell into silence, each member grappling with their own thoughts – thoughts of comrades injured and enemies vanished like smoke. The scent of antiseptic and machine oil hung heavy in the air as they processed the partial victory. Rabbit's eyes narrowed as she scooped up her tablet again, scrolling through data streams. "We've got to find them," she declared with renewed vigor. "They're out there somewhere, and who knows what they're planning next?" Argos responded with an analytical coolness that only an AI could muster. "I will continue to monitor all channels for any sign of their whereabouts." Wire shifted his gaze to Ghost, reading his leader's subtle cues—a tight jawline, a brow furrowed ever so slightly—signs of contemplation. "Boss?" Wire asked. Ghost paused mid-step and faced his team. His eyes conveyed the resolve that words could not fully capture. "We regroup and heal up," he said with quiet authority. "Then we hunt them down." Rabbit's fingers paused on her tablet, her attention snagged by an unexpected sound—a voice that did not belong to any of them. "It won't happen," said the voice, authoritative and unfamiliar. The team froze. Ghost's heart skipped a beat as his hand instinctively moved toward his sidearm, a motion halted by the knowledge that no weapon would aid them against an unseen adversary. "Who are you?" Ghost demanded, his voice betraying none of the apprehension that tightened its grip around him. A figure stepped forward from the shadows, a man in a uniform that bore no insignia they recognized. His presence was commanding, his gaze sharp as it swept over them. "Captain Smith, Veil Command," he introduced himself, his tone leaving no room for argument. Ghost's mind raced. Veil Command—the name was a whisper in dark corners, a rumor among rumors. That they stood before a representative now was enough to send a chill through even the most seasoned of operatives. Captain Smith's eyes locked onto Ghost's. "The Hellcats are under my direct command now." The words landed like a punch to the gut. The autonomy they had fought so hard for, the freedom to operate outside conventional chains of command—it was all being stripped away in an instant. Ghost struggled to find words, but none came. He glanced at his team, each face reflecting their shared shock and disbelief. "What about our mission? Our autonomy?" Rabbit finally broke the silence, her voice edged with defiance. Captain Smith took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "You will be briefed in due course. For now, understand that this change is not up for debate." Ghost's thoughts spun with the implications of this new development. They had always been outliers, renegades operating on the fringes for the greater good. Now they were being reined in by an entity shrouded in mystery and power. "We answer directly to you?" Wire asked pointedly. "Yes," Captain Smith confirmed without hesitation. "And your first directive is to stand down until further notice." Stand down—two words that felt like shackles to warriors such as themselves. The Hellcats exchanged uneasy looks; their very nature was to act, not wait passively for orders. "Understood," Ghost managed to say at last, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. Ghost scrutinized Captain Smith, searching for any telltale sign that might betray the man's intentions. The weight of his team's anxious stares bore down on him, urging him to press for answers they desperately needed. "Captain, the boys—Bixente and Adrian—what's going to happen to them?" Ghost asked, his voice a careful blend of respect and insistence. Smith's eyes flickered with something unidentifiable before settling back into a mask of professional detachment. He folded his arms behind his back, an emblem of both authority and evasion. "That information is on a need-to-know basis," he replied, his voice as firm as the walls surrounding them. Rabbit's grip tightened around her tablet, her knuckles whitening. "Need to know? They're our people! We have a right—" Smith raised a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Your concern is noted," he interjected smoothly. "However, operational security is paramount. Your role is to follow orders, not question them." Ghost felt a simmering anger at the captain's dismissive stance. His team had fought tooth and nail, shed blood for the cause, only to be left in the dark when it mattered most. Wire stepped forward, the lines of his face hardening. "They could be in danger," he stated flatly. "We can't just abandon them." Smith regarded Wire with an appraising look before shifting his attention back to Ghost. "Your dedication is admirable," he conceded. "But your involvement in this matter concludes here." The words hung heavy in the air, like a sentence passed down from high above. The Hellcats were warriors, protectors; standing down was antithetical to their very essence. "We've risked everything," Ghost pressed on, his voice edged with restrained emotion. "We deserve answers." Smith met Ghost's gaze unflinchingly. "What you deserve and what the situation dictates are two different things," he countered with an unwavering calmness. "Your team performed admirably. Now leave it to Veil Command to handle the next phase." Ghost took a measured breath, aware that pushing further might only tighten the vise of secrecy that now threatened to suffocate their quest for truth. "Very well," he acquiesced through gritted teeth. Captain Smith gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before turning on his heel and exiting the room with precise steps that echoed off the walls. The Hellcats were left alone once more in the sterile glow of their command center, each member processing the stark reality of their new orders—or lack thereof. Silence reigned as they grappled with frustration and helplessness—a battle far different from those they were trained to fight. Ghost watched Captain Smith's retreating form with a mixture of suspicion and resentment. The captain's parting words had settled over the room like a shroud, stifling the usual bustle of activity that defined the Hellcats' command center. As Smith disappeared from view, the silence was broken by the hum of machinery and the quiet tapping of Rabbit's fingers on her tablet—her way of coping with uncertainty. Smith's voice returned before the echo of his departure had fully faded. He reentered, carrying an air of purpose that seemed to fill the room, bringing with it a tension that prickled at Ghost's skin. "I trust you've all had a moment to digest the situation," Smith began, his gaze sweeping over the team. "You will be equipped with advanced gear—state-of-the-art technology that will enhance your operational effectiveness." The team exchanged wary glances. Upgraded equipment was always welcome, but at what cost? Rabbit set her tablet aside, her interest piqued despite her earlier frustration. "What kind of gear are we talking about?" she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Smith reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small device, which he placed on the central table. It was sleek and unfamiliar, emitting a soft glow as it activated at his touch. "Exosuits tailored to each of your specialties," he revealed. "They'll augment your physical capabilities and integrate seamlessly with your existing tech." Wire stepped forward for a closer look. "Custom exosuits? That's not standard issue."   "No, it's not," Smith confirmed. "Veil Command spares no expense when it comes to equipping its operatives." "Can we ask where this gear is coming from? Who developed it?" Wire asked, trying to glean any scrap of information. Smith's lips pressed into a firm line, and he folded his arms across his chest—a barrier as much physical as it was symbolic. "You need not concern yourselves with the origins of your equipment," Smith replied dismissively. "Your role is to learn and utilize it effectively." The team absorbed this information with varying degrees of acceptance. Ghost felt a pang of unease; better gear meant tougher missions, higher stakes. "And our current mission?" Ghost inquired, trying to keep his voice even. "The boys—Bixente and Adrian?" Smith held up a hand, pre-empting further questions. "I've said all I'm going to say on that matter. Your focus now should be on familiarizing yourselves with the new equipment." Rabbit frowned, her impatience clear. "You expect us to just drop everything and play with new toys while our friends are out there somewhere?" Smith's expression hardened ever so slightly—a subtle shift that nonetheless conveyed his finality on the subject. "Your compliance is not optional," he stated flatly. "You are under Veil Command now. That means following orders without question." The unspoken threat in his words hung in the air like an invisible barrier, challenging them to cross it at their peril. Wire crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes locked on Smith. "We'll need training then—get used to this new gear." Smith nodded in agreement. "Arrangements have been made for an accelerated training program," he said. "You'll be operational in no time." As Smith outlined the training schedule and expectations, Ghost stood silently among his team. His mind churned with thoughts of Bixente and Adrian—their safety, their fate—and how it all seemed to slip through their fingers like sand. The captain concluded his briefing with instructions for them to report to the training facility first thing in the morning before making his exit once more. In the wake of Smith's departure, Rabbit let out a slow breath she had been holding back. Ghost stood before the panoramic array of screens, his thoughts a maelstrom. Argos, the ever-watchful sentinel, observed the Hellcats with an inscrutable digital gaze. Rabbit sat hunched over her tablet, while Wire paced the length of the room, each step a silent question. Ghost's eyes flickered to Argos. "Is there more to this than a simple rescue? The presence of Veil Command suggests larger gears turning." Argos processed the query, its circuits humming softly in the quiet room. "Veil Command's involvement indicates a high-profile investigation," it finally confirmed. "Your operation intersected with one of their interests." Rabbit's fingers stilled on her tablet. "So we were just pawns in their game?" she asked, her voice edged with bitterness. Wire stopped pacing and faced Argos. "What kind of investigations are we talking about?" Argos paused, as if considering how much to disclose. "Veil Command is currently engaged in multiple operations spanning international espionage and covert surveillance," it divulged. "Your mission may have overlapped with one of these operations." Ghost absorbed this information, his brow furrowing deeper. "That would explain Smith's sudden takeover," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. Rabbit pushed back from her tablet and stood up. "This goes way beyond us then," she said with newfound clarity. "It's not just about rescuing Littles anymore." The realization seemed to settle over the team like dust after an explosion—fine, pervasive, altering everything it touched. Wire resumed his pacing, but now with a thoughtful cadence. "If we're part of something bigger," he mused aloud, "then what's our role in Veil Command's plan?" Argos responded with calculated neutrality. "Your primary function remains the same: to protect and rescue Littles in peril. However, your operations will now align with Veil Command's strategic objectives." Ghost turned away from the screens to face his team. His jaw set in a firm line as he contemplated their next move within this intricate web they had unwittingly become entangled in. "Then we need to be smarter," he concluded with steely determination. "We play by their rules while figuring out their endgame." Rabbit nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting a fire that had nothing to do with the light from her tablet screen. "We've always been good at adapting," she said confidently. Wire stopped pacing and leaned against a console. "And we've got new gear coming our way," he added pragmatically. "Might as well use it to our advantage." As the Hellcats mulled over their new reality—one where autonomy was sacrificed for compliance—a silent accord formed among them: they would navigate this complexity together, as they always had, united by purpose and bound by loyalty.  
    • Yeah I've wondered the same. Surely cutting the external sphincter is enough 
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