text: Your eyes lull closed, and you lose consciousness.
  
  You awake an unknown time later, lying on the metal operating table. Magos Cern stands over you, washing her implements in a basin of water. She looks at you, her cold, red eyes peering into your soul.
  
  "Ah, you're awake. Good," she says.
  
  "What did you put into me?" you ask.
  
  "The biology of what I did is beyond you, flesh bag."
  
  "Can you dumb it down for me?" you ask.
  
  "Could one reduce concertos to the mumbled grunts of mutants?" Magos Cern asks indignantly.
  
  "Please?"
  
  "Fine. I increased the size of your heart by 40% and lungs  by 12%, and added several veins and arteries leading directly to the brain from the heart. These actions increase the blood flow to your brain, and should hence increase psychic abilities. I added multiple microchips that breed monocytes, other white blood cells, platelets and other helpful things for your body. That was the bulk of my work. Other than that, it was just a medical check-up."
  
  "OK," you say.
  
  "I have a lot of important work to do, now. You should've had enough time to recover."
  
  Two of your massive space marine guards arrive, a roaring face on their thick helmets.
  
  "Here you are," Magos Cern says. "Guards, make sure to walk slow. If at any point the patient starts puking blood, let him sit down for ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
  
  "Shouldn't you keep him hearing for observation, then?" one of the guards ask.
  
  "I have far too much work to do," Magos Cern says. "Don't disturb me. If anything goes wrong, go to Genetor Corivan. He is very experienced with medical matters."
  
  "Yes, sir," the space marine says.
  
  Magos Cern quickly heads off, walking off to a row of elevators. The space marines stare at you, and you climb out of bed with a groan.
  
  "Ah, my head," you say.
  
  "You should have headaches for the next 48 hours," Magos Cern shouts, right before she disappears into an elevator. 
  
  You stand, feeling a rush of blood hit your head. You walk after the space marines, along halls and up and down elevators, until you find yourself in the arena. Castus and Olive are there, mid-battle with each other.
  
  "Oh look, it's tweedle-dum and tweedle-fucking idiot," Meliodas says. "Not even a laugh? Oh wait, you didn't grow up with nursery rhymes, you're from a Feral world. My bad."
  
  Castus swings his sword at her, while Olive swings her rifle-axe up at his head. He rolls out of the way, kicking Olive's foot away and sending her to her knee, before booting her in the head. She collapses down, before rolling out of the way to avoid a downward stab by Castus. She grabs Castus' sword handle and punches him. Castus falls backwards, before taking up a fighting stance. Olive begins circling him, her gun-axe at the ready. She spots you, smiling.
  
  "Karth's here," she says.
  
  "Bullshit," Castus says, readying his sword.
  
  "Karth, tell him you're here," Olive says.
  
  "Yeah, I'm here," you say. 
  
  Castus turns to look at you, but Olive charges, swinging her gun-axe. She knocks the feet away from Castus, dropping his knee down on Castus stomach. Castus grunts before Olive grabs her gun-axe and holds it to Castus throat.
  
  "Dead," she says.
  
  "No fair, we were supposed to stop when Karth got here," Castus says.
  
  "You're still dead," Olive smiles, standing up.
  
  Castus grabs Olive's wrist, pulling her forward so his sword pokes into her stomach.
  
  "Dead," he smiles.
  
  "Seriously?" Olive says, rolling her eyes. "Fine, I'm dead. Are we finished yet? The kid needs training."
  
  "Fine," Castus shrugs. "Let's start it."
  
  Castus draws a dagger from his belt, staring at it. The blade is a bright silver, with an odd pattern etched into it. It's handle is a bright, light blue, with a short, silver horn coming from the end of the handle.
  
  "Now, this is an absolute beauty. I really don't use it enough, so it's yours. Xenos-origin, so even owning it is heresy. The blade is razor sharp, it could cut through flesh and bone easier than it could through air. Here."
  
  Castus turns, tossing the dagger straight at your head.
  > catch the knife
  You reach up and catch the knife, cutting your fingers with the blade, blood dripping down the blade.
  
  "Good catch," Castus says. "Try to catch the handle next time."
  
  You grab the knife by it's handle with your other hand, licking your cut fingers clean. You hold the knife, stabbing it forward. 
  
  "What do you think?" Castus asks. 
  
  "It's a knife," you say simply.
  
  "Yeah, it is. Do you like it? Does it feel good?" Castus says.
  
  "I don't know anything about knives. Maybe," you say.
  
  "Alright, first, we need to talk. Is anyone watching us? Like, are there cameras?"
  
  "No. Well yes, but they're offline," Olive says, resting her head on the butt of her axe-gun. "What is it?"
  
  "A plan is being formed. We're going to escape."
  
  "Escape?" Olive says, musing. "Who's on our side?"
  
  "We have a large amount of people on our side. Elios, Elizabeth and Durge are bringing the weight of their war-bands, as well as most, if not all, of the Guardsmen here. Then there's the Goliaths and the Tribals, both of whom are with us."
  
  "What...?"
  
  "Because I've done this twice before, I best say. We have no plans yet. They're to be decided. We have literally nothing. We just need to check whether you'll join us. Then, we'll get the leaders together to plan our to take over, and what to do with once we've actually done so."
  
  "Huh. Well, I'm in," Castus says.
  
  "What?" Olive asks, surprised.
  
  "Yeah, I'm in," Castus says.
  
  "We don't know the plan, we don't have any assurances that we won't be back-stabbed as soon as we take over, we..."
  
  "Olive, let's be smart here. If we don't rebel, we'll definitely either be killed fighting Kyros' war, killed trying to put down these fuckers' mutiny, or killed fighting another arena battle for these bastard's amusement."
  
  "If we rebel, we'll almost certainly be killed!"
  
  "Almost certainly is way better than definitely. Plus, we'll get to kill a few of Kyros' bastards before we go down."
  
  "Fine, I'm in, but I... we have a few demands," Olive says.
  
  "Go on," you say.
  
  You know the gladiators will be essential to your plans, so you really need to get them, but still, you don't want to devote to many resources to this issue. 
  
  "I want instant freedom once we take-over. No more being locked up under the arena. I want my men to have free reign to travel around the ship. I want pay, do the men and women who fight and work for the ship actually get something from it. I want an increase in food rations, and better equipment than the shit we're given. I want actual medical care, on top of this."
  
  "That it?" you ask, annoyed with her large demands.
  
  It'll probably take a serious amount of resources to fulfill her request. You have a few options here.
  
  "What a fucking greedy bitch. This fucker needs a dick, I tell you that," Meliodas complains.