Bane... that is, Arget, waited patiently before the scientist (or as close to a trained scientist as a group of ex-slave urban combatant revolutionists could get) arrived to speak with him.  Taking the gentleman aside, he pulled one of the vials free, before explaining his experience with it... then explaining what Heretic had told him it was SUPPOSED to do.<br/><br/>"Granted, we all react to different things differently... my only experience with hard drugs nearly killed me, and at the same time my buddy was flying on ten times the dose.  This, however, might be a useful tool if you can keep those taking it from dying or going batshit crazy.  Tell ya what..." He took out the second vial, leaving one for himself.  "Hopefully this will be enough for you to work with.  That's all I have for you, so be careful with it."<br/><br/>"This is the first sample of this shit we've ever gotten... from... that I've ever... you found this on a cultist?" The scientist cocked an eyebrow, barely able to contain his excitement at having something like this to work with.<br/><br/>"It's quite a story, but I think we have a little too much work to do, both of us right now, to bother with it.  It might take you hours or years to make use of that stuff, but it's my little gift to the human movement." Arget nods.  "If you'll excuse me..."<br/><br/>Heading back into the warehouse, he comes to find that Iln is now being attended to by a man and a woman, both bandaging and injecting her with various things - he has not the knowledge to know what's going on.  He moves in to speak to her - to thank her, catching her eye, when one of the staff pulls him back.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, sir, but she needs rest.  Badly.  Even if you're a friend, please leave the infirmary for now - let us take care of this."  The halfbreed looks to this kid, a neutral expression, and turns back, waving gently to her first.<br/><br/>Outside, he looks over the skyline, smoke rising in spots.  Gunfire erupts in the distance - this isn't over by a longshot.  He exhales slowly.  What a long day...<br/><br/>"Excuse me, son, you that "Bane" kid?" Two men strut up to him, both carrying little more than pole arms and makeshift sheet-metal breastplates.<br/><br/>"It's Isidar." The foxboy replies, not turning his eyes.  "Arget Isidar, if you please."