It was half-an-hour past midnight when Ingriam received the order to report to Dr. Balkus for further examination. He had been told to expect something like this and so was quick to leave the comfort of his bed and follow the telepathic signal. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Lord Imakarum Mirabilis was still asleep. Not understanding entirely why he felt a connection to the Twelfth Zoalord, Ingriam almost stayed to think about the matter, but his better judgment made itself known, and he turned away to head for Dr. Balkus’ laboratory.

It was not his place to question the orders or directives of his superiors, and Dr. Balkus was one of the most prominent. The soft sound of his bare feet on the floor was magnified by his own enhanced hearing, and the young Zoalord only hoped that Lord Imakarum would not notice the sound and be awakened by it.

Dr. Balkus had given very explicit instructions to keep his existence a secret from Lord Imakarum. Ingriam was not sure why, but orders were orders, and he would not disobey one of his masters. The trip to Dr. Balkus’ laboratory was thankfully short, and Ingriam knew when Dr. Balkus wanted him to enter.

XxXxXxX

Sensing the mind of Ingriam, Dr. Balkus commanded his creation to come into his laboratory. The boy Kenji Murakami may have been Lord Imakarum’s son, but Ingriam was entirely his, and in the event that the improvements that he had made to that infuriating rebel Masaki Murakami were not sufficient to keep him loyal to Chronos, Ingriam was his secret weapon. If the former Twelfth Zoalord had not been executed by Lord Alkanphel, Dr. Balkus would perhaps have thanked him for taking the boy.

At a telepathic order from Dr. Balkus, Ingriam laid himself on the examination table. This was the second month since Ingriam—or rather, young Kenji—had made the suggestion to improve the immune systems of the Twelve Zoalords so that they would recognize Aptom’s invading cells as a virus and react accordingly. As Dr. Balkus had expected, Ingriam himself had volunteered to become the test-bed for this new modification. Dr. Balkus had been—and still was—concerned that altering the immune response of a Zoalord might very well render them immune to the retroviruses that were used to create and improve them.

Dr. Balkus wanted to be completely certain that the alterations he had made to Ingriam’s physiology would not render the young Zoalord a Lost Unit. Not only would that have been very suspicious to Imakarum, but it would also mean that there was no real way to protect the Zoalords from Aptom’s absorption ability. That alone would be annoying on a professional level, since it would have reduced the Twelve Overlords to the level of common Zoanoids when it came to dealing with Aptom.

Dr. Balkus was well aware that only a Lost Unit could resist commands from a Zoalord,

so he intended to test Ingriam’s response to negative physical stimuli. He would attempt to maintain a firm hold on Ingriam’s mind so that the boy would not be able to move or resist. Removing a scalpel from the tray next to his hand, Dr. Balkus took full control of Ingriam’s central nervous system, then ran the sharp point of the scalpel across Ingriam’s chest.

The young Zoalord did not even flinch from the discomfort he must have felt, and while he knew that was a positive sign, he was not going to place his faith entirely on one single event. Taking hold of Ingriam’s right hand, Dr. Balkus dug the point of the scalpel into the soft flesh of Ingriam’s palm—deeply enough to draw blood—but only a single drop was spilled before Ingriam’s enhanced healing sealed the wound closed.

Again, there was not even the slightest reaction. Dr. Balkus was becoming slightly more confident about the chances that the improvements would prove to be of use to the Lords of Chronos. Still, it was always best to be completely certain of a situation before proceeding. With that in mind, Dr. Balkus eased Ingriam’s mouth open and pressed the tip of the surgical tool into the young Zoalord’s tongue, watching dispassionately as a thin trail of blood trickled deeper into Ingriam’s mouth.

It seemed that the boy had not become a Lost Unit after all.

XxXxXxX

Imakarum, reaching out to pull Kenji closer to him, brushed his hand over the body-warmed sheets where his son had been sleeping and sat up, glowing golden eyes sweeping the room while his other senses reached out to locate his son, just in case Kenji had merely gotten up for a glass of water or something of that nature. But no—Imakarum could sense that Kenji wasn’t anywhere in the room anymore.

Levering himself out of bed, Imakarum performed a light telepathic scan, searching for Kenji’s distinctive mental presence. Finding his son in Dr. Balkus’ private laboratory again, Imakarum narrowed his eyes—he would have to speak to the doctor about that, since it was really getting ridiculous. Picking up his visor and settling it back over his eyes, something that by now had become a habit for the Twelfth Zoalord, Imakarum left his room, his long strides carrying him quickly down the hallway to Balkus’ personal laboratory. The door was closed, but like all of the Chronos Overlords, Imakarum possessed the access code. Keying it in, Imakarum stepped through the door almost before it had finished opening and saw Kenji sitting on the examination table, seeming completely unharmed, with Dr. Balkus apparently just finishing up with him.

"Hey, Dad!" Kenji called, waving once Imakarum had come into his line of sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you that same question, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said easily, stepping up to the examination table and placing his hand on Kenji’s chest. "I think you should get back to bed now," he added as he teleported them both back to his room.

"All right, dad, but what are you going to do?" Kenji asked, tilting his head in that childishly curious way that Imakarum would never get tired of.

"I’m going to have a talk with Dr. Balkus," Imakarum said, turning away from the bed where his son now sat and teleporting back to Dr. Balkus’ private laboratory.

Once he was back in Dr. Balkus’ laboratory, Imakarum folded his arms over his chest and regarded Chronos’ top scientist with a glare that was only partially hidden behind his opaque black visor.

"What were you doing with my son?" Imakarum demanded. "This is the fourth time this month that you’ve called him in here for one of your late-night examinations. Is there something still wrong with him that you’re not telling me about?"

"There is nothing wrong with your son," Dr. Balkus said calmly. "I was just making completely certain that the last of Aptom’s invading cells were completely purged."

"While I do appreciate your thoroughness, Doctor," Imakarum answered, gritting his teeth for a moment, "I would prefer that in the future you tell me when you want to see my son for any reason. And for the last time, stop calling him to your lab at this time of night! He may not physically be a child anymore, but he still needs his rest."

"There is no more reason for me to examine your son, Lord Imakarum. As I have told you, all of the impurities within his body have been purged."

"Good," Imakarum said finally, nodding and teleporting back to his and Kenji’s shared room.

Once the last of the dimensional interference had cleared from his vision, Imakarum walked back to the bed where they had been sleeping. Kenji had already lain back down by the time Imakarum had made it back to their room, and Imakarum smiled benevolently down at his son before he climbed back into bed. Slipping off his visor, Imakarum placed it back on the table by their bed.

Once Imakarum was back in their shared bed, Kenji cuddled up to him the way that he always did, and Imakarum smiled again, more reflectively this time. He might have had the body of a twenty-five year old man, not to mention most of the powers of a Zoalord, but Kenji was still Kenji and still his baby boy.