He bent down, careful with his firearm, to pluck the flower. Flowers didn't spring up often anymore. Not around here. It was a good sign. It had to be. A smile lit up his face. Then he straightened and abandoned his post, alerting Headquarters of his insubordination. Even when breaking away from his post he moved with military precision, counting steps until he reached her.

There was never magic. Only science. A chance to be part of something. A glorious purpose. You're not going to like what I'm about to tell you. That the eight chosen for the Magic School Bus Initiative, merely children at the time, were tested, trained to become part of an elite government team of operatives. They did not luck into their position in Ms. Frizzle's classroom, nor was it mere coincidence that there were only eight chosen.

All eight remain. They have their jobs to do. Risks to take. Sacrifices to make.

You may not like the massacre of childhood that seemingly occurred when these eight were taken for training. But they were bred for it.

"I'm not good at getting presents but I saw it and it was pretty and I thought it would be good for you. Because you're pretty..." He fumbled with his words, wearing a bright smile, with a childlike quality that only he still possessed, probably gripping it as tightly as he gripped the daisy in his hand.

The recipient, an old friend, one of his classmates, gaped at him, looking uneasy. But she smiled, barely. She outranked him, carried a bigger gun and used it better than he ever would. She'd always been tougher than him.

"Thank you, now get back to your sector. That's an order." She had a sneaking suspicion that flowers only grew around him. She didn't believe in good signs, only good people...

"I am more than just someone you outrank, Wanda..." He mumbled, dropping his firearm in a meager show of defiance. Looking at her with heart stopping determination. She snatched it up, angry for half a second, then simply scared, and pressed it back into his arms.

"Yes, you are, which is why I implore you to be careful."

"Say it... Say you love me." He begged, his smile hopeful, his eyes expectant. She sighed, brushing a strand of her short hair behind her ear. He could only ever twist her arm by risking his own.

"Okay, I love you. Now get back, you know what they'll do if you step out of line."

"It's fine..." He said with a casual grin. He was breaking on the inside. She pushed him away. A second after he was out of sight the receiver in her ear sounded. He had no idea the things she did to keep that smile on his face.

"Problem, Wanda?"

"No. Let him be, he just wanted to give me a flower." She twisted it around in her hand before tucking it into her hair, never once stepping out of line. The pretty flower hadn't looked out of place with him, but it contrasted starkly with her demeanor.

"Of course."

"Don't, Dorothy Ann. Just let him be for once."

"We'll let it slip this time, but please keep a better leash on him."

"Of course."

Dorothy Ann, chosen for her superb intelligence, ran things behind the scenes with a calm adherence to the rules she understood were the best for everyone. She was not alone, however. As soon as she was off communication with Wanda Li, the toughest soldier they had at their disposal, she turned to her companion.

"Lighten the mood, we don't want any more insubordination today." Carlos Ramon, readily known as the spirit of the team, the heart that drew them together and kept them going, gave a grim, obedient nod, before cracking a smile, unseen by his classmates but heard in his voice.

"Times are tough of course, they always will be but we can hold strong. Everyone has the strength inside of them. It is for the greater good and there is no greater goodness than that inside of each and every one of you, my friends. If anyone has a lot to offer, it's you guys. Every day I'm amazed that I get to be your friend. I care about you guys, so keep up the good work. I'm always here if you need a friend."

He did care about his friends, but he lied to them. Lied through his teeth. Each and every one of them had been manipulated into being ruthless. He could see these people he cared about reaching the breaking point more and more, and he alone was the one responsible for administrating some sort of peace in the turmoil. Offer up some sort of team spirit. His words did little, he knew how fruitless it could be. At least no one was taken in for treatment today. It was harder to spew bull crap straight in people's faces, especially the people you love.

This was his job. Keep them happy, crack jokes and promise there was the strength within them to fight for a better way. Their better way was slaughter, and he was incapable of it, always had been, but he encouraged it, and that was worse. The ones that would've never hurt a fly if not under government orders were the ones he gushed to about untapped potential and inner strength.

It was a pain. A necessary pain.

Where would they take him if he rebelled? There was no one to instill conformity in him. No one to keep him happy. If he was to stop fitting the mold they probably would just torture him a little more until he fit again.

Carlos stepped out of headquarters, walking the path to his bunk, counting steps. He only stopped when he saw a broken, unplucked flower, tread on by some militant operation. It was a bad sign.

There was never any magic in the magic school bus. Just science, and innocence, and ill intent. The first and the last remain.

The innocence is long gone.

To be continued