"Hm." he mumbled.

"I wonder..." he said.

"Killing every single person will be a daunting task, and it may just make things worse." he told her.

"But... I might know someone." he went on.

"Someone that can help, and in a very big way." he said further.

"Someone that might be able to help you cut these people off at their source." he then said, which was confusing to her, as the source was already dead... she killed him the day of the attack. And it didn't seem to cut anything off.

"See, that's the thing." he responded.

"He was killed the day the school was attacked." he told her.

"But he is the root of them all." he went on.

"Hmmmmmmmm..." he mumbled further.

"No, I know this person can help." he then said, certainty in his tone.

"It all boils down to WHEN he is stopped. In every sense of that word."

The man was silent, and looked at her.

"What is expected?" he asked.

"Simple." he said.

"You need to be persuasive." he told her.

"You need to be able to convince Hank that there IS impending danger." he said further.

"And stop things... before they begin."

"I'll bring him here." he told her.

"And he'll explain everything." he said.

"It's not my place to go any further without him here, sadly." he lamented.

"In the meantime, go and check on Jackson." he told her.

"Bring him some clean clothes or something." he said further.

"And if he has any serious-looking injuries, let me know." he went on. "I will tend to them, for what little good that will do." he finished.

"Who's there!?" she heard from inside.

"It is I, Sierra." she responded.

"Come in!" Jackson responded.

When she entered, she noticed it was steamy inside, and that Jackson had chosen to, indeed, take a shower. She saw his muted outline in one of the showers, as he cleaned himself.

"This feels amazing!" he exclaimed.

"I'd forgotten just how good it felt to get CLEAN!"

After a few seconds, Jackson stopped the water.

"Aw, cool." he said.

He then reached out from the shower, grabbed a towel, whipped it in with him, and then walked out, the towel wrapped around his waist.

When he did, Sierra saw two things. The first was that his body was covered in scars and scratches and wounds. It was like his body was a roadmap of pain and abuse. But she also noticed the second thing... all the abuse and pushing they'd put him through had shown results. He looked to be pretty strong and his muscles were well-toned. It was probably their effort to make him stronger, so he'd be more effective at dealing with troublesome individuals.

"Thanks, Sierra." he said to her.

Jackson was silent for a moment, before he looked down at himself.

"Oh. Eh-heh." he chuckled sheepishly.

"Thanks." he said with a small blush.

"And yeah, thanks." he told her.

"It's SUCH a relief to see you again." he said.

"You're... well, the reason I didn't go 100% insane." he admitted.

"....ok, that's a better way to put it." Jackson admitted.

"They almost succeeded." he lamented, as he started to dry off.

"But thank you." he went on.

"So, uh... what now?" he asked.

"What do we do now that I'm free?" he asked her.

"Because they're gonna come looking for me."

Jackson was silent as he heard that.

"Uh... yeah, true." he said.

"Yeah. We will." he agreed.

He then sighed, and shook his head.

"Sierra... for real... it's awesome to see you again." he told her.

"I... the end of the world may come, but as long as you're with me, I'll fight it." he said.

"I'll fight to the bitter end."

"See ya!" Jackson called to her.

When she left, he sighed, and continued to dry himself off.

As Sierra headed down the hall, she swore she heard something.

Footsteps. Ones that were headed her way.

And from the opposite direction of the morgue.