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I looked back at Marge in confusion. Project Zephyr? I had never heard of the thing in my life. "Sorry, I don't have a single clue about that. Honest," I replied back.
"I see," was her response.
"If you don't mind me asking, what is it? Project Zephyr, I mean," I asked tentatively. It seemed really serious to her, too. I wonder if she had some history with this "Project." Her expression remained the same; I thought that she would give me a subtle reaction. She just stared back at me, unfazed, like a ream who retained their human reasoning. It freaked me out, honestly.

"Project Z.E.P.H.Y.R," Marge began, "was a project that began a long time ago, way before the Catastrophe. Z.E.P.H.Y.R isn't an acronym, but there was a reference as to why it was called that way. It was meant to be an experiment to allow modern technology to evolve into a higher form that did not fear starvation, injury, nor death. It was an attempt of creating an immortal. A god." I swallowed hard. That little bit of information was a lot to take in. Moreover, it made me wonder why she would wish to tell me, only me. Why she would trust me with the secrets of Project Z.E.P.H.Y.R.
"Just about one year ago from this day, I lost my entire family to an explosion that occurred in the outskirts of Las Vegas," Marge continued, crossing her arms nervously, "I didn't know at the time, but we were living right next to the facility with Project Z.E.P.H.Y.R in it. There was an explosion from one of their earlier experiments, and the next thing I knew, I was laying on the ground covered in debris with smoke as the only thing I could clearly see. My house was completely torn apart, and I was carried to an ambulance. I tried to ask about my family, but I had taken in so much smoke that all I could do was wheeze in an attempt to take a breath. I found out the next day that they were all gone. Never got to say goodbye." At this point I noticed a shift in Marge's expression. More specifically, I noticed her eyes begin to water. This was a very sensitive topic indeed. I almost felt like I was not supposed to hear some of the things she was telling me.

"I'm... sorry for your loss, Marge. I had no idea," I finally mustered out. I knew that I had to say something to alleviate the awkwardness in the air. She was close to tears, a sign of vulnerability that she had let her guard down in front of me and me alone. It was a sign that she trusted me with her life despite only knowing me for a short time, and I was grateful. "What was your family like, if you don't mind me asking?" I continued cautiously. Marge looked over to me, eyes red from struggling to hold back tears from the painful memories she kept close to her heart. I watched as she shook, trying hard to remain strong, and eventually crumble to the ground in a crying mess over her loss. I sighed with a smile and approached her, kneeling before her before embracing her. Right now wasn't a good time to talk about it, so I decided to leave it that way. I thought about how long she dealt with this inside and how she remained so strong throughout this entire mess of events caused by Project Zephyr. It looks like I'll have to look into this Project Zephyr soon, I thought to myself.

Marge and I remained in the tiny office for about an hour in silence, with only Marge's quiet sobs occasionally breaking it. I continued to hug and comfort her as she slowly recovered and recomposed herself. I'll admit this much, I completely understood how she felt about losing her family. "I completely understand how you feel. About your family, I mean," I started saying, "You don't need to tell me about them now. Feel free to talk about them another time, yeah?" Marge stayed silent, but I could feel her nodding her head against my shoulder. I smiled, thankful that she was getting better, and just stayed there with her until she felt a bit better. What I didn't realize was that Cynthia had been sitting just outside the door sobbing as well, most likely having eavesdropped on what Marge had told me. It was when we came out of the office a little while later that I realized this. As Marge walked away from the office, I noticed Cynthia with her face to her knees, shaking. I was concerned, obviously, so I knelt beside her and began hearing soft sobs as well. I put two and two together, and decided to confirm it by asking if she overheard us. Cynthia nodded, muttering a soft apology.

"I didn't want to be alone in that room with those men. They scare me," she whispered to me. I nodded and hugged her. Geez, I thought, what's with all the emotional drama today? Despite thinking that, though, I understand why. Marge wouldn't want to talk to the guys about it since they were guys who would probably be dense about the whole situation. Marge must have thought that I could read what she wanted me to do and found me to be a trustworthy individual. Sadly, I can see why; the two guys, although reliable in a pinch, aren't really that good in reading a mood. Sure, Jack is a bit sensitive, but he mostly ignores the mood and drives on. Damien, on the other hand, is denser than the Dead Sea. Back to Cynthia though, I felt the need to scold her a bit for eavesdropping until I heard of how scared she was of Jack and Damien. Those two aren't really known for having a kind expression when meeting new strangers.

"I really didn't mean to listen in on this. I'm really sorry; I'll keep quiet about it if you'd like," Cynthia finally said after calming down.
"It would be great if you did, thanks," I replied, "It's a very sensitive thing to Marge, so keep this between you and me. I don't want Marge to freak out and think that I told you this."
"I know, I know," Cynthia said, wiping away the last of her tears, "It's just sad to hear about how someone can lose a family so fast and be forced to carry on. I just... I just..."
"Relax, it's okay," I said to calm her down, "It happens whether we like it or not. There's nothing she could really do about it other than to keep moving. All we can do is support her now."
"Yeah... Oh, and Zee?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uh, know something about that 'thing'. Project Zephyr, I mean," Cynthia kept her voice low. I raised an eyebrow, loosening my embrace on her to look into her eyes. My mind raced with a thousand questions, but before I could ask, she already spoke up again.

"About Project Zephyr... it's the reason why you all found me in the way I was. Project Zephyr is still active," Cynthia started, shifting closer to me.
"Still active? Didn't Marge say that the facility it was in exploded? Wouldn't that stop the project?" I questioned, confused. She stopping shifting temporarily at my questions and shook her head.
"I wish that were the case," she replied sadly, "As Marge said, it did explode. But that didn't stop the project at all. It was already done by that time." I blinked. Something wasn't adding up to me. How was it that Cynthia knew this much about the project? And why was she blatantly telling me this now, despite only meeting me for the first time a few hours ago?
"C-Can I ask," I cringed inwardly at my stutter, "H-how do you know so much about it? Th-the Project, I mean." Cynthia sighed softly. At this point I realized that I had uncrossed my legs and was leaning back at an attempt to keep Cynthia from coming closer while she had begun straddling me. Then, she began leaning closer to my face, her lips moving closer to my right ear. I froze in place, genuinely terrified for an unknown reason. I had no way to move further back, no way to keep moving back.

All I heard next were the following words: "I was one of them. A subject for Project Zephyr."

I remained still, my eyes moving to see Cynthia. A chill ran up my spine, and I felt like I was being hunted. Cynthia moved her head away from my ear, keeping her face close to mine. Her eyes remained neutral as she looked straight into mine.
"You wanna know why I'm telling you this, don't you?" Cynthia spoke softly, just loud enough for my ears to register her voice. I remained still, swallowing loudly. Cynthia was acting very different from how I met her a few hours ago. In a way I really didn't like.
"I've come to take a liking to you, Zee," she cooed, "You're the only person I've ever met to have treated me so nicely. I only wish to tell you what you wanted to know." The situation was becoming way to uncomfortable for me. I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away, keeping my distance from her. I composed myself and looked straight into her eyes, and this time, she froze up.
"Cynthia, listen," I started, "I appreciate that you trust me enough to tell me this. But please understand that I am not going to be frightened by something like this. Tell me exactly what you want or feel about this. Up front honesty. I want nothing but the truth. And..." I was trying so hard to compose myself that I didn't realize I had pushed her so hard to have pinned her to the floor at this point; my mind was only focused on trying to read Cynthia. Why did she begin talking like that? Why did I feel threatened from it? Why, just why?!
"If you try to pull this off again, you won't like my second reaction to this," I nearly growled out. Cynthia just lay there, shocked at my reaction. I could tell that she understood what I meant, and was trying hard to compose herself. I immediately scrambled to sit back up, flustered and trying to come up with some sort of apology.
"Oh God Cynthia I'm so sorry!" I quickly apologized, "It's just that you were acting strange and I didn't feel comfortable with it and I didn't realize that-"
"Zee it's okay," Cynthia giggled in reply, "I'm sorry to have worried you."
Three seconds of awkward silence. "Huh?"
"I'm saying I'm sorry. I didn't think I came across as that to you," Cynthia explained. My mind went nuts. Didn't think that doing something like that would come across as what?!, I thought, I'M SO CONFUSED! What made me even more confused was that during my little fluster episode, Cynthia gave me a peck on the cheek, giggling before skipping away. I just stood there frozen.

What in the living hell of all things holy just happened to me?