Victims of a common enemy? Subjects of a common experiment? I didn't know.

GENTEK was many things, most of which rendered far from positive. One of their own scientists brought havoc with a single vial apparently meant to cure cancer but even he knew the lies forced down his throat, he knew better than to trust an organisation that played with the remains of Hope, Idaho, the remains of a bioweapon made to target racial groups. Dr. Alexander Jack Mercer was also a man of many talents, most of which rendered him far from alive. His counterpart wouldn't dare treak so far underground because Alex himself knew of the monstrosity that lurked here. Alex knew bringing them into the light would mean the end of humanity. But Mercer was delighted to say the least, a faint smile on his lips as the elevator called out the lowest floor in the building, and he stepped out with a woman and left behind two bodies. Or what could be identified as such.

The air was colder down here, the heating and bright lighting as divine punishment to the man sitting idly in the vast room, seen through the thick glass panels to the steel door. Since his birth he's only killed five people for reasons Mercer could only pin as curious but the room was eerily pristine and he showed no incentive to leave. Leaving the rubble and dirt of GENTEK would be simple for him, tear through the steel door blocking his route to the elevator, kill everyone on sight but no. He was just there, using his fingernail to carve into the polished flooring. From where Mercer was standing, however, he could see the resemblance to Elizabeth Greene. Although his mother was more tardy and cared not of her outwardly appearance, it was as if he did: hair combed back as neat as possible, glassy eyes, even his skin was flawless but...strange.

PARIAH. BLACKLIGHT in its purest form. BLACKLIGHT that could reengineer his body on the molecular level. BLACKLIGHT that could tear the world asunder if he wanted to.

The woman tensed and stepped back once, a sudden fear crawling on her skin, "Are...are you sure? He can kill each and every one of us and you're gonna―"

"Gracie," Mercer cooed, his hand on the biometric scanner. "If he wanted to kill us, we wouldn't have left the elevator."

Gracie glowered. "You're right. I'm sorry sir."

Mercer let out an inaudible huff and returned his focus onto PARIAH and slowly began his advance once the steel door slid away, watching closely for any signs of an ambushed attack, but the closer he got the more dread filled his body. Mercer's seen the reports, meeting this man would bring about the worst possible outcome for all of humanity and every step brought him closer and closer to desolation. It was as if his own biomass wanted to turn against him, his body burning and stinging with a rage that wasn't his that his weight pulled him to the ground. His heart was pounding in his chest and thumping in his ears, his human unconscious bringing a sweat to his shaded forehead and a panic to his lungs. Mercer was trudging forward on all fours by the time he reached PARIAH, eyes blinded by haunted memories and attention on every single one of them.

PARIAH stopped carving and Mercer relaxed. "Mercer," he spoke, his voice so soft, so calming. So persuasive. The pain quaked again and Mercer tensed. "I could crack a single bone in your body and you would beg for death. Pull a single muscle and cripple you for the rest of existence. You have read the reports, wagered on whether coming down here was a smart choice and it wasn't. The man that killed my mother is kneeling before me, wondering how I can bring him on the verge of tears, even though he has no soul. No substance. Nothing."

Mercer held out a shaky hand, "I...I think hearing the reason as to why...I would risk my life to come down here would be better, no?"

"I don't have to know," he quietly stood from his place and frowned when he realised the clothes Mercer had on. A terrible mix of smart-casual, leather jacket layered onto hoodie layered onto dress shirt with the collar awkwardly unfolded. Even the stupid dress shoes were unflattering with his jeans. Then again it was better than the medical suit he had on, dulling and covered in blood that would splatter when he became curious of his own abilities. His biomass reacted to his thoughts and he looked as his arms were shrouded by tailored fabric, feet materialising smart brogues and his hands feeling against the blazer that was snug against his body. It was an outfit that was on his mind for a while, something sleek, something crisp. Something dressy for his one and only contact with the rest of the world. "There's only one reason as to why you're down here but that's not it. I can hear it."

Mercer was still struggling on the floor when ease settled, his mind sharp in an instant. Gracie, who was a witness to the entire spectacle, was still trembling. Mercer was fucking insane to let him out, what was he planning? "Then you must know that there isn't a single me."

"I know the Mercer that stands before me is a man of anger. Why is that so?"

"Because humans tear each other apart," Mercer replied, spite in his tone. "They instill a false sense of hope while plotting an attack all the same. They are the reason for poverty, war, famish. They fight against each other in a bid to call peace―"

PARIAH raised a brow in confusion, "And yet you unleash the virus a second time to prove a point. What is that point, Mercer?"

Mercer stepped forward, "If we can eliminate the cause, don't you think humanity has a chance to live again? So we start here, and once New York has been conquered we move further and choke the mortal lives of humanity until it is no longer human. The New World." PARIAH stayed quiet, looking away from the hooded man as if he was contemplating the words of creating a new world. Mercer's words were corroborative to his anger; he was tricked, he was manipulated, pulled by many strings. Even when he finally managed to find solitude in a town far away, even the people that took him in turned against each other. Turned against him.

PARIAH looked back up at Mercer with a handsome smile, "Then it's time to find the thirteen of Project Nascence. Right now, spreading your strain is making you weak. You need more than yourself to overthrow BLACKWATCH and GENTEK. And your other. He seems to be gathering a little renegade of his own. He already has HERA and is sure to find HADES, although the death of his family might sway his judgement."

"Project Nascence?"

"No!" PARIAH frowned slightly and peered behind Mercer to watch Gracie storm towards him, bloody tears pouring down her cheeks as her mind was fighting away the haze and her muscles began to glow underneath her skin. "You can't! Sir, no! You, you can't find the thirteen! Sir, please, you have to understand―" It wasn't until Gracie was in grabbing distance that PARIAH moved. He was quick. Faster than Mercer ever thought he would be; PARIAH's hand was already tight around Gracie's throat and she held his arm, straining against the crushing force. "You...you can't―"

"From the second I heard you in the elevator I knew you would be a weak one," PARIAH commented dully, glassy eyes examining her in disappointment. "It's a shame Mercer made you one of him. He must've done so for good reason."

"S-ir, please...we can't find the...thirteen...we...can't..." His grip tightened and Gracie fought against his strength but her hands suddenly sunk into his arm like water, PARIAH's body shuddering for a moment. She froze at the realisation of what happened. PARIAH relaxed the density in his arm just to keep her hands in place.

"What she means to say is that we cannot find the thirteen because they are just like us. Leave it to me to find them; if they prove useful I will bring them to you. If not then I will discard them."

"The thirteen of Nascence. Do you think there are others like them, Greene? If that's the case then―"

"No." His answer was short, direct. "You only need the thirteen, Mercer. Their true nature has been suppressed, simply bringing it out into the light makes them easier to command." Taking more interest to the task at hand PARIAH loosened his grip and glanced back at Mercer whilst Gracie let out a blood-curdling scream on the ground, her hands missing and her new stumps spewing out crimson.

The suited man paid no mind to her as he passed, "One thing about ghosts is that you can't kill them twice."