My world was pitch black. What little thoughts I had didn't remain for long before what little consciousness I could muster fell back into the abyss. Part of me didn't know what or who I was. I couldn't feel my fingers, my tail or my ears, let alone a single muscle in my body.

            Until I did. It started off small. A wiggle of a big toe followed by a few agonizing moments of opening the right eye, then the left eyelid. The plain ceiling, through a dull lavender, was bathed in a flashing red light. Suddenly, my eyes immediately widened as shards of recent memories surged through my body. I tried lifting a paw or my head, only for a sharp pain to pull me against a used pillow. It wasn't long before I realized a few tubes were hooked to my arms and to my nostrils. For some reason, I remembered the latter was called a 'cannula'.

            Attempts to raise my head up felt like an extra needle had been pierced into my skull. Despite this drowsy state though, I could recognize the sounds of shuffling footpaws and angry shouts nearby.

            “Help me with this one!" one voice muttered. “It looks like he's awake!"

            “Great, let's hurry, Lowell!" the other hissed hurriedly. “The backup generators'll be back on in less than three minutes. And we can't save 'em all."

            “I know, I know!"

            A few seconds later, two silhouettes hovered over me. One belonged to a female otter while the other resembled a wolf, who carefully pulled the tubes out of my arms and yanked off the cannula from my nose. I suddenly coughed and hacked before drifting in and out of consciousness. Images of the duo pulling me from the bed and carrying me by an arm each, combined with the memory of the wolf baring his fangs in a hopeful grin, further confused me. My footpaws and tail drooped and dragged along the floor of an endless, barely-lit hallway, any attempts to regain my footing only led to me stumbling.

            How long have I been out? I asked myself. During this escape, I barely remembered seeing the otter hastily take a pair of cutters and slice off something on my wrist. It clattered on the ground with a faint beep. Where…am I? Who are they?

            “Hey come on, stay with us, Adam! We're almost there…"

            Huh? I blinked back to reality.

            We were now approaching a door, leading to a lone van on the rainy sidewalk of the dark complex. I could see outlines of other dark buildings in the distance. A few other neighboring vehicles were driving away from us, leaving this one van parked and guarded by two wolves in black clothing, who raised their guns toward us. At first, I braced myself for the end, until deafening shots fired to crumpling forms behind us as something ricocheted off the van.

            Unfortunately, I did witness the sight of a bullet hitting the wolf's leg, except scorching smoke seemed to rise with his pained screams.

            Then blackness enveloped me once more.

***

            I groaned before opening an eye. My conversion clinic room had become smaller, my entire body sitting propped up against a cold metal wall. There were several other furs dressed in the same plain clothing as me, all of them buckled and unconscious, with the otter from earlier was at the back speaking through a sliding window to the driver.

            As for the wolf, kneeling and sitting along the floor, he'd noticed me stirring awake.

            “Hey, kid!" he perked his ears, both as high as his smile. My eyes traveled down to his leg, now bandaged. “Glad to see you're, ngh…among the living."

            I tried speaking up, only to start coughing heavily, like my throat burned cinders. Immediately, the alarmed wolf handed me a water bottle, and he let me drink every last drop. Now I could breathe again.

            “Thank us later, Adam. For now, don't talk too much. You haven't used your voice in a long time, and we have no idea how long those clinic thugs have been pumping those drugs into your system." The handsome wolf muttered audibly, “Fucking DSA…"

              “H-H-How…know…name…?" I struggled saying.

            The wolf shushed me. “I saw it written on that bracelet on your wrist before we tossed it out. They'd have been able to track you if we hadn't cut it off," he chuckled amusedly, “'Adam Grimwald'. That's a pretty bad-ass name if I say so."

            “Your…leg…" I struggled pointing to his blood-speckled ankle.

            “Oh this?" he smirked between winces amid the swerving van. “Hellfire bullets are pretty nasty hot when they pierce a body, especially since they're supposed to keep you from bleeding out, but their design is their greatest flaw. Cauterizing bullets means no blood loss. It'll take more than a fancy-schmancy gun to keep me from rescuing you."

            “Are you done flirting with him, Lowell?" Olivia quipped.

            The wolf named Lowell rolled his eyes.

            “I'm just making sure he isn't braindead like the rest of these guys." He groaned. “Are we at the hotel yet, Liv? I'm pretty sure Nick's driving isn't helping any…"

            “Fuck off, Lowell!" someone gruff and older growled. He sounded more annoyed than angered, but it didn't stop me from imagining the driver's scowl. Whatever species he was.

             “Who…Who are…" I strained to say, “…you?"

            A sudden bump in the road caused me to nearly slip from my seat. My numb legs still felt like five-pound weights, but Lowell managed to readjust my legs straighter. I would've probably blushed at his firm yet gentle touch if I weren't paralyzed this way.

            “We're like you, Adam." Lowell answered after a moment, offering another soft smile. “The blackout our moles caused helped temporarily knock out the power grid to most parts of New Chicago. As we speak, our other cells across the Devout States are rescuing clinic patients, outcasts like you, in the same manner."

            “We…?"

            “We're the Defiant, kid." Olivia finished for him.

            Despite my drowsy stupor, I immediately recognized the name. Everyone called them by many names: the Deviants, the Godless, radicals, rebels, unholy, intolerant oppressors. Any known terrorist attacks I could remember were often pinned on them.

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