When Ember finally disentangled herself from the darkness, she found that her whole body was sore. Her bones ached, and around her wrists and ankles were bright red marks, as if she had been bound. Upon further inspection, she found that the ropes that had been around her hands and feet were know wrapped around her middle, tying her to the wall of a... Train?

"It certainly would explain the shaking," Ember mumbled and began to work on untying herself.

"Oh, good, you're awake," a voice began, and Ember's head immediately shot up.

"Who's there?" She asked, searching the darkness. The fact that she could hardly see in the rattling train car made her uneasy, as that meant that she was far away from the city.

"You don't remember me?" He sounded surprised and slowly stepped into the light. As her eyes landed on his face, she immediately remembered who he was. Those unnatural eyes--how could she have forgetten him? This was the cyborg who had kidnapped her from her home.

"Who are you?" She demanded, glancing down. To her disappointment, she found that she'd made no progress in freeing herself. "Release me immediately."

Chuckling, the cyborg stepped towards her, revealing that a similar rope tied him to the wall of the train car as well. "I'm afraid I can't do that, unless you want to fly off the train as soon as we pass another magnetic stabilizer, but I can tell you my name," he replied, "I'm Agent Michael, sharpshooter of the Cyborg Confederation."

"Since when do sharpshooters kidnap people?"

"They don't, but this was a special situation," Michael explained.

"Wait, why were you at my house?" She asked, "You're a sharpshooter; were you there to kill my father?"

"I'm afraid so."

"What stopped you?"

"He wasn't there," the cyborg replied with a shrug, "After I told my superior of your father's absence, I was ordered to kidnap you. So here we are."

"What do you think taking me will accomplish?" Ember asked, struggling to keep her voice steady, "I don't know anything. I hardly see my father anymore. I doubt he's even noticed I'm gone."

"That's not--" his speech faltered, "That's not my concern. All that I need to worry about is fulfilling my orders."

"You people are robots," Ember growled. "You don't care that you've ripped a girl from her only living parent. All you care about is staying in your superior's good graces."

"That's high of you to say," Michael scoffed, "Considering you're one of us."

"I'm nothing like you." She looked away from him, desperately wishing she had a weapon of any kind.

At her reply, the cyborg sighed. Stepping forward, he sat down in front of her. "Look, I know you don't trust me, but you have to believe me when I say that you're a cyborg, at least partly."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It's true," Michael insisted, "I think the metal must be in your bones or your organs."

"Stop it," Ember snapped, "I see what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work. If I was a cyborg, my father would've told me."

"Would he?" He said, "You said so yourself that he hardly tells you anything anymore."

"Shut up!" Ember screamed.

At her exclamation, Michael fell silent. "I'm sorry," he said at last, "For everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Any moment now."

Ember was about to question him further when her limbs went rigid, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't move them.  It was like there was an invisible force that had taken over her body.

"What's going on?" Ember cried.

"We're passing the magnetic stabilizer," Michael explained. "It's pulling on our metallic body parts."

Ember wanted to argue with him--that it was pulling on his body parts, not hers--but as she began to slide across the floor, it was hard to deny the truth any longer.

She was a cyborg.