The files and reports sitting so innocuously in front of him had long ago ceased to have any meaning for Imakarum; likewise with the remains of many torn up rubber bands that littered his desk. There was a new, whole rubber band in his hands—one that Imakarum suspected was not going to hold up under the strain, just like its brethren.

But Imakarum needed to do this, needed something mindless to keep his hands busy with so that he didn’t rush right down to Lord Hamilcal’s private laboratory and demand to know what was happening to Kenji. He had tried to distract himself with the reports from Chronos’ other branches, then with those from the various scientific divisions within Cloud Tower itself, but both times he’d ended up reading the same sentence six times before he realized that he hadn’t absorbed a word of it.

Nothing had managed to distract Imakarum from the gnawing fear that the next time he went down to Lord Hamilcal’s laboratory, the only thing he would find inside that processing-tank would be another one of Aptom’s many clones.

The rubber band snapped, stinging his fingers slightly as the material lost the battle against his strength. Imakarum hissed slightly. That was it; he’d finally had enough of just sitting around doing nothing when Kenji could be dying down in that processing-tank. Standing, Imakarum sent a brief message to one of the many Zoanoids within Cloud Tower and ordered them to page the janitorial staff and send them to his office.

Then he left, heading back to the elevator with a nearly frantic stride that he only just managed to disguise as purposeful.

When he reached the elevators, he pressed the call button hard enough to almost break it. The Twelfth Zoalord knew that he wasn’t anywhere near the right mental state to attempt teleporting down into Lord Hamilcal’s private laboratory, so he was forced to use the more mundane means of travel that were left to him. He hated the situation, but that was the penalty of using a means of transportation that relied on mental clarity to work.

The elevator ride lasted a subjective eternity, but the fact remained that it wasn’t any longer than the trip Imakarum had taken to bring Kenji down in the first place. Once he had made it back to that lever, he practically jogged to the lab, starting to care less and less what any Zoanoid who saw him thought of his behavior. He could change their opinions very easily, after all.

Imakarum, standing just outside the door to Lord Hamilcal’s laboratory, entered his code and stepped inside almost before the door had opened, his eyes drawn immediately to the processing-tank in the center of the room. Imakarum could see the form within it clearly and, as he drew closer, began to smile. There was his son, whole and healthy, though still for the moment unconscious.

"How is he, Lord Hamilcal?"

"Almost ready to be released, I would say."

Imakarum nodded, then walked over to the processing-tank and pressed his hands against the specially treated Plexiglas. Kenji was safe—that was really all he’d been hoping for when he’d come down into this place. Kenji even looked peaceful, though Imakarum knew from his own experience that awakening inside a processing-tank was both mildly uncomfortable and, to a certain degree, disconcerting, especially for someone who had just gone through the kind of ordeal that Kenji had.

"Has there been any damage to his cells?" Imakarum asked, looking over at Lord Hamilcal.

"There was some mild damage from Aptom’s metabolic processes, but the boy’s immune system is dealing with that as we speak."

"Good," Imakarum said, looking back at Kenji’s sleeping form.

It was easier to think of him that way—asleep, rather than terribly injured and in need of urgent medical care. He hoped that Kenji would be able to recover from this ordeal; his son was very resilient, yes, but this might prove to be too much for even him to deal with. As the fluid in the processing-tank drained slowly out the bottom, letting Kenji come to rest gently against the tank’s bottom, Imakarum stepped back half a pace, watching as the body of the tank retracted into the ceiling. When it had risen high enough that Kenji wouldn’t be able to lean against it the way he had been doing, Imakarum stepped forward and caught Kenji’s sleeping form before his son could slump to the floor, probably hitting his head in the process. His body was still slick with processing fluid, the green-tinged liquid dripping in streams from his hair.

Lord Hamilcal handed him a thick, warm towel, and Imakarum took it gratefully, wrapping Kenji securely in it. Drying his hair with the remainder, Imakarum picked his son up and cradled him the way he had when the boy was still small, though the thick, but otherwise indescribable scent of amniotic fluid still emanated from Kenji’s sleeping form. So Imakarum decided that he would give his son a bath; a nice bubble bath would doubtlessly make Kenji feel—not to mention smell—a great deal better.

-You have done admirable work as always, Lord Hamilcal.- Imakarum used telepathy so that he would not disturb Kenji. -Thank you for taking care of my son.-

Lord Hamilcal merely nodded in response, so Imakarum turned and left.

Once he was back in the hallways, he quickly walked back to the elevator. Kenji was still sleeping—for the moment, anyway—and Imakarum hoped that his son would remain that way at least until they had reached his room. He knew that his son would be very disoriented if he were to wake up in the corridors, and while reassuring the boy of the fact that he was healthy and safe would be pleasant, Imakarum wanted his son to rest.

Kenji had been through a very frightening and exhausting experience—Imakarum had heard his son’s pained cries as Aptom had attempted to devour him. The Twelfth Zoalord had made his decision: Kenji would stay within the safe haven that was Chronos Japan’s Cloud Tower. He could not allow his son to ever come to that kind of harm again; it caused too much strain for both of them.

Once he had reached his room, Imakarum shifted Kenji’s weight in his arms and pressed his right palm against the scanner. The door to his room slid open with a soft scuffing noise, and the Twelfth Zoalord walked inside. Kenji was starting to stir, moving slightly and scrunching up his face in that cute way that let Imakarum know that his son would be waking up soon. Quickly walking to the private bathroom that only he and Lord Purg’stall were privileged enough to have, Imakarum leaned Kenji against the wall and started to prepare a bath for him.

He knew that Kenji had always liked bubble baths, and so Imakarum had prepared for just such an occasion, as there were now several containers full of scented bubbles in addition to the soap and shampoo in his bathroom cabinet. Imakarum picked out the strawberry-and-vanilla-scented bubble bath, just as Kenji woke up.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji-chan?" Imakarum asked.

"I feel weird; did Aptom really try to eat me?"

Though momentarily startled by Kenji’s bluntness, Imakarum quickly recovered his composure. "He did. Lord Hamilcal told you about him?"

"Yeah," Kenji nodded, pulling the towel up more tightly around himself. "He told me that Aptom was one of his experiments that went wrong. Does he do a lot of experiments like that?"

"No. None that have survived for this long, anyway," Imakarum amended, sticking his hand into the water to test its warmth. "Almost all of the experiments that don’t go as he prefers are disposed of well before they can grow as out of control as Aptom has. The bath’s nice and warm for you, Kenji; you can climb in now."

"Thanks, Dad," Kenji said, kissing Imakarum lightly on the cheek as he climbed into the bathtub and started playing with the bubbles.

Imakarum chuckled as he cupped some water in his hands and started rinsing the processing fluid out of Kenji’s long hair.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"How did you get away? You told me you were one of Mr. Balkus’ experiments, so how did you make it out?" Kenji looked at him curiously through a curtain of wet hair that hid half his face.

Not wanting to think about what Masaki Murakami – the enemy of everything Chronos and Lord Alkanphel stood for – had done to be able to escape from the base in Arizona, Imakarum continued to rinse Kenji’s hair in silence, hoping that his son would forget about it, but then Kenji had always been a bit stubborn. They had that in common.

"Dad, I want to know. How did you make it out? You told me Mr. Balkus and all the other Zoalords were all there, so how did-"

Imakarum placed his hand over his son’s mouth, effectively silencing the boy. "Not another word, Kenji," he said sternly, and Kenji nodded.

Imakarum removed his hand, then, deciding that Kenji’s hair was finally wet enough to begin shampooing it, got up and headed back to the cabinet where the soaps and shampoos were stored. Taking out a very specific scented shampoo, Imakarum closed the cabinet again and headed back over to where Kenji was waiting, wet hair plastered to his head.

"Kenji, close your eyes," Imakarum said, squeezing out a good amount of shampoo into the palm of his hand.

Kenji’s blue-green eyes flickered over him, evidently spotting the bottle that Imakarum still had in his hand, because the next thing his son did was squeeze his eyes closed and sit still. Moving the bottle of shampoo off the rim of the tub so there wouldn’t be a chance of it falling in, Imakarum settled himself down next to the bath and began to wash his son’s hair. Kenji sniffed, catching the scent of the shampoo, and Imakarum smiled.

"Orange! Mom used to use this kind of shampoo, didn’t she?"

"Yes, she did," Imakarum said, his fingers covered in lather as he worked the shampoo into Kenji’s hair. "I thought you’d like it."

"Yeah; thanks, Dad."

Imakarum smiled, looking at Kenji again. It was true that they had both changed a great deal from the people that they had once been, though Kenji hadn’t really changed all that much aside from physically, but the fact remained that they were still together—they were still a family. That would be enough.