Bioshock Imminent

By Fifth

(Disclaimer: Shame on any company who thinks I would use their characters for monetary profit. They can sue me when the economy uses "fun" and "entertainment" as acceptable currency, because I have a lot of that.)

(Rewritten A/N intro:)

This is a SEQUEL to Bioshock Infinite. There's really no other way I can put it, despite the story details not completely unraveling right away. I loved the original story and wanted to write my own fanfiction, but also wanted to pay tribute to some of the rules of the original story.

There are some tiny details changed in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE to suit my own tastes for the characters, for the sake of practicality and flexibility. This takes place in the universe where Booker was a martyr for the Vox Revolution, and from there, it gets a little stranger. Read, and enjoy!

Chapter 1: Execution

"Dreams is about right."

- Theo

1912

The Rainchaser – Somewhere in the sky

"I gotta say, I ain't never seen no mutt like you before, boy," the man across from him said, disturbing his sleep.

Theo opened his eyes to the dusty cabin and the low sound of engines overtook his ears. He had another one of those dreams, the ones where he'd be half awake and half asleep. Those dreams were always a blessing and a curse; they were a blessing because he could see them playing on those trodden streets, making fun with what little they had owned, and all the time in the world to spare. And that same dream was a curse because he was so aware of how fake it was, and could barely stomach the reality that even in his fantasies he was a fool.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, boy," the black man said. He was tall, bald, and lean, his sinewy muscles rippling across his body. Theo didn't know whether the man was keeping on a workout schedule or was just simply underfed. But the man was young and had an innocent bravado about him, puffing his chest like a child who had always been through hard times and didn't know the ways of politeness.

"A mutt?" Theo asked.

"Yeah, like a dog that you can't tell what kind it is. That's what you remind me of."

The guy was referring to Theo's race, obviously.

"Mm," he remarked with a shrug.

"What blood you come from, dog?"

Here he was, more or less far away from home on a ship that was taking passengers to the promised land, and the first hurdle was some intrusive poor boy who had no business asking questions.

"Guess."

"You one of them Chinamen. You got them eyes. But you too dark to just be that."

Theo smirked. "I'm also black."

"Nu-unh. I knows me a brother when I see one. You ain't no brother."

"Does it really matter?"

"Sure 'nuff it does. Heard there's good work up there but the police, they be beatin' on colored folk like us," the black man explained. "And since you's a mutt, an unwanted dog, a tainted mix of blood and water, they gonna have some fun with you."

He adjusted the worker's rag on his head and ran some fingers through his hair. "We're all dogs. If that wasn't true, then it wouldn't be a dog's life."

"What's your name?" the man asked. "Mine's Buck Harrison."

Theo shook his hand. "Theodore Lin."

Suddenly, light spilled in through the window as they finally penetrated the clouds. Theo looked around and noticed several of the other passengers quietly sitting on the ground with their backs leaned against the cargo boxes. There were people from all backgrounds searching for work in perhaps the most glamorous city on the planet. Columbia's economy had created an imbalance in world powers and its constantly booming development opened more jobs in the sky. It was a risk for minorities to live there, but the separated sections of the city were supposedly no worse than the cities down below.

"Can't find no work, huh?" the black guy continued. "You a hobo?"

"More or less," he replied. "But I have job set up for me already."

"No shit? Where?"

"The place ain't looking for any more hires, man," Theo said.

"Naw, I just want to know."

He took a breath and crossed his legs. "My uncle runs a weapons factory for Fink Manufacturing. I'm supposed to apprentice him because he plans to develop more weapons over the next quarter."

Buck looked like he was processing that last comment, trying to hide a genuine feeling of surprise.

"No shit…" the man murmured.

"No shit."

The microphone in the corner of the cargo bay buzzed with static.

"Attention. We are now in Columbian airspace. ETA five minutes. Hallelujah."

"What about you?" Theo asked, more so out of reciprocity than actual interest.

"Me?" Buck asked, putting a hand to his chest. "I'm just here to explore the city and look for whatever I can get. I'm very good at bein' polite, you know. Like 'yessir, no sir.' You know. All that shit. I'm gonna get big in this town, you know what I mean?"

Theo slightly rolled his eyes. "So you're going to rise up the servant ranks or become the token black guy in a quartet?"

"Naw, not like that," Buck muttered with some ambiguity.

"Sports it is then. Don't think they have a Negro League up there."

"Nope. A little different than that, my friend. Don't forget. Columbia may call herself her own bitch up in the sky, but it's still America. Anything can happen with a little push."

"Is that right?"

"America's a place of dreams, man."

Theo looked away.

"Dreams is about right."

He thought about that for another few moments, but before he could finish those thoughts, shadows zipped by the window and the room itself blinked. A whooshing sound came past and the small patrol ship began tailing them. The gravity in the room started to shift as everyone began leaning towards the bow.

Buck braced himself against a crate. "What the…"

"We're slowing down," Theo said.

Washington Square

She kept her hat low and made sure that no one could see her, though she was almost certain no one could recognize her anyway. This day was only one of two that she could explore the outside world—an opportunity that only came twice a month, and if she was ill-behaved, only once. Elizabeth often spent her time shopping in certain areas of the city, and she suspected that she was always being watched. This time, however, she had gotten lucky by snatching a hat off a sleeping woman and wandered into a gathering crowd. She had no idea what was happening here, but judging from the jeering towards the center, she sensed something awful was going to happen.

"Move! Out of the way!" a voice shouted behind her.

The officers bumped into her before she could move. Another set of officers behind her nudged a prisoner towards the center of the square. He was older, with a rugged five o' clock shadow and light brown hair, and his face had been beaten swollen from his time in captivity.

"Yeah!" someone from the crowd shouted. "Cut his fucking head off!"

The stimulus was becoming a little too much and she felt overwhelmed, but when the prisoner finally passed her, his head slightly turned and acknowledged her presence, as if asking a question.

"Kill that Vox scum!" another exclaimed.

"Shoot him dead!"

"Lynch him up and strip his body bare!"

The crowd was getting worked up. Elizabeth's eyes followed the guards towards the middle of the square and she noticed a platform. Above the platform was Jeremiah Fink, the owner of Fink Manufacturing, and next to him was a noose. She finally realized that she had just stumbled into a public execution, and that this was the first time she had really wandered outside the safe zone.

"Well, well, folks. If this isn't a nice lead-in to our raffle this weekend, by golly, I'm not sure what is!" Fink spoke over a speaker he'd built, likely for this occasion.

The man was forced up the steps, limping his way to a certain death. She didn't know what to do except watch and lifted her hat just a little bit to see clearly. Then, she felt a tug at her arm.

"Miss Elizabeth," her servant, Ingrid, said. "We can't stay here. You can't get lost."

Elizabeth turned her head and hushed her. "Just a minute."

"You can't be this far outside…"

"Outside what?"

"We must go now," Ingrid pleaded.

Then, two people from the crowd moved beside her, probably making their way in for a better view.

"Ah, the execution," the man said, his voice coated with a British accent. "I've always hated these things. Barbarous."

To her other side, a woman, who looked nearly identical, cocked her head just a bit. "I fail to see the reason why we're here, Robert. We've been here so many times before."

"There is a meddler in this midst, dear sister. I'm merely running on a hunch," the man replied.

"A disturbance? Is that why you informed him?"

Ingrid nudged Elizabeth again. "Miss Elizabeth, we have to get back. You cannot see this!"

"No," the woman said, turning to face Elizabeth. "Stay."

"You'll want to see this," Robert said.

Elizabeth recognized her. "Aren't you…Rosalind—"

"Stay exactly where you are. You'll know what to do," Rosalind Lutece said to her. She gestured to the man Elizabeth assumed to be her twin and walked away, disappearing into the crowd, escorting Ingrid back into the sea of people. Elizabeth watched her servant disappear and looked back at the stage, where film reels were projecting a powerful image onto the Washington House of Justice, which had a white screen draped over it. The film showed Vox Populi rebels committing barbarous acts against the people.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present to you…" Fink continued with a gesture, "the one and only Booker DeWitt! The False Shepherd! The Heathen of Highest Proportions! The leader of the Vox Populi scum that infests our city this very moment."

The False Shepherd was shoved into the middle of the stage, and upon his reveal the crowd burst into frenzy, jeering, shouting, and spitting. His eyes stared into the distance as though he were dreaming, thinking about someplace else, probably far away.

"It is time for us to cripple their infrastructure and rip the heart from the vessel that is their revolution! Allow us to strip the tumor from Columbia at last!"

They clamored and cheered and screamed and shouted and begged to have the execution underway. She had never seen death before. Behind Fink, priests with white robes appeared out of nowhere, and another figure appeared at the base of the steps, making his way up slowly, step-by-heavy-step. He towered over Fink and the rest of the guards by a good few inches and occupied a greater presence. For some reason, Elizabeth thought that the hastily built stage itself was sunken in one side, protesting his weight as he stood next to Fink.

"He was captured by Fink Manufacturing's new Head of Security, Mr. Torga. Because Fink Manufacturing aims to keep the citizens of Columbia safe," Fink announced, shamelessly promoting his own company while emotions ran high.

Mr. Torga looked more machine than man, with the bottom half of his face covered with a respirator unlike anything seen in Columbia before. Fink must have been busy putting his engineers to work, and the technology keeping that man together will likely show up at the annual fair. The rest of his body was hidden underneath that long, intimidating trenchcoat he wore, but something about the way he walked didn't seem right.

The priests began chanting lowly.

"Do you have any last words before we send you to hell where you belong?" Fink asked.

The man was hardly in any mood to speak, but his mouth managed to open, and the crowd's silence followed.

"Everyone knows why I am here," the man spoke. "And of all times, of all possibilities, I believe there is a reason why I stand here before you."

"Yeah, to die!" someone from the crowd shouted. But there were no cheers.

"I am the False Shepherd," Booker continued. "And I had an obligation to find the Lamb and take her away so I may repay my debt. But things changed. I know now the events that will transpire, and I know now, that it is not my role to become the one you all fear."

Elizabeth stood completely still, and as he finished his last sentence, his gaze tracked her down. He looked right into her eyes. At that very moment she knew he was looking at her; she realized that he knew who she was and where she came from, and that he had been thinking about her for a long time.

The executioner wrapped the noose around Booker's neck.

"Anna…it is not in this world that you and I can find a future where I can have you back. It is not in this world that I can watch you grow. Whatever you do, please know that I never meant to throw you away."

Mr. Torga gave a nod over to the executioner, ordering him to grab the lever.

"Don't forget me, Anna. You don't know who I am, but listen to me…"

The executioner gripped the handle on the lever.

"You must fight! Fight for your freedo—"

The plank underneath him dropped and Booker DeWitt was hanged.

The crowd applauded in unison, a mob without a mentality teetering on the fringes of order and chaos, and Elizabeth's concentration was shattered. She had been in a trance, and wasn't aware that she had turned away. She didn't want to look at the body; somehow, she knew it'd be painful to watch.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Ingrid shouted from a distance, the voice pitched just enough that it carried through the crowd.

She turned towards her servant, who was hidden in the back, trying to shove people away.

Before Elizabeth could say anything a shadow swept over the crowd, followed by a chirping, almost shrieking call, and her heart sank. He was here. When Songbird landed on top of the building, the crowd shifted from thrilled to horrified. Many shielded their eyes out of hopes that it wouldn't attack them. Songbird, perched next to the flagpole, craned its neck and turned its head to get a better view of the crowd.

"They know you're here," Robert said, suddenly appearing behind her.

She turned to him. "Wh…who are you?"

"Nobody important for now," Rosalind chimed in. "But if there are any chances you should be taking, now's the time."

"And oh, my. Speaking of chances, by any chance, is that a flaming ship over there?" Robert asked, pointing into the distance. "I do believe it's headed this way."

Elizabeth looked at where he was pointing and was shocked to find a flaming airship encroaching the square at breakneck speed, trailed by a horde of police aircraft. People who weren't evacuating the square were in its direct path.

"I…I don't understand…"

"If you want to see Paris," Robert said to her, "then you might want to stop that ship from exploding."

Her jaw dropped.

Minutes earlier…

The Rainchaser – Columbia Airspace

The officers had the cargo door opened and the immigrants lined up along the crates. Buck scoffed throughout the entire process, making no effort to conceal how much he hated authorities checking up on the airships.

"A friend of mine says this shit happens a lot," Buck told him. "Just keep your wits about you and they won't pick on you."

The chief officer stood in between several of the policemen who stared at the immigrants as wolves did their prey, his baton already drawn and lightly beating the palm of his hand. The ship captain, a ragged Hispanic man who seemed like he hadn't seen solid ground in decades, was shuffling through some papers to hand to the authorities.

"Where are these…" the chief started, "hungry mouths coming from?"

"We took a flight from San Francisco, sir," the ship captain told him, handing over the trade manifest that detailed everything that was on the ship. "Was going to drop them off in Shantytown by four o' clock."

"Mm," the chief remarked, looking at the papers. "You're a bit late."

"Had some turbulence down below. Delayed us a few minutes or so," the captain replied. "Is this a routine stop, sir? Or are we free to go?"

The officer smirked nonchalantly. "Free? To go? That's an interesting way of putting it."

"I didn't mean anything by it, sir. I just want to be on time."

"But you're not on time, and when a transport ship carrying capital goods is late, the total pay for the contract will be penalized with taxes," the chief said to him, almost taking in delight. "Do you have any objections to this, captain?"

The ship captain wasn't thrilled about it.

"You're free to object. Don't let my presence hinder you from fully expressing yourself."

"…if I've been penalized, then so be it," the captain said, maintaining his composure. "Is that all?"

"No."

The passengers looked nervous. This obviously wasn't a routine stop.

"This isn't the usual route to Shantytown. Especially when carrying workers aboard. We'll have to run a full sweep of the interior for suspicious cargo, given the recent activities by the Vox Populi," the officer said, handing the papers back.

"A sweep? This is unusual."

The police lieutenant snapped his fingers and the patrolmen began looking around the cabin. The passengers on board were uneasy, but as long as there wasn't anything suspicious on board, then hopefully they'd be fine.

"Unusual circumstances, captain. If you mind, then you can turn this ship right back around, but I don't think you have the fuel for that."

The ship captain swallowed and returned to join the rest of the crew, who were lined up in front of the passengers. Theo was somewhat uneasy because they were in the sky, but being who he was, he wasn't too concerned with intrusive authorities. Their kind loved to hassle the common man, not by choice but by nature. He could never personally recall a time when an officer has protected a citizen, and while there were instances where the police have helped the public, at least ninety percent of the time they hassled the innocent. Although they sought to rid society of crime, he caught on early that the existence of crime is what gave them their power. And any organization that is given power has no incentive to relinquish it. He learned that all too well, and wouldn't be surprised if they slapped on an extremely hefty price tag for entering the city.

Theo didn't become alert until one of the officers tapped the edge of a crate, and the sound echoed.

"What's in here?" the policeman asked.

The captain looked at his papers. "Uhh…"

He glanced around at the other passengers. There were at least thirty of them, including three families of four or five individuals. Many of them were blank-faced, not knowing what could be wrong with this situation. But some of the others watched closely, as though awaiting the officer's next move, which put him on edge.

"Those are fruits. Cherries from Rainier."

"It's more hollow than the others," the officer said next. "The regulations on trade state that crates must be shipped completely full. And what's this?"

The baton tapped on the edge of the crate.

"It's not sealed either."

"Come on, officer. Those are just items."

He scoffed. "We'll see."

Hanging his baton to his side, the officer reached for the tarp hanging on top of the crate and pulled it off. He dug his fingers into the fresh wood and lifted it off while the other officers gathered around. Theo took note of his surroundings; the cargo bay was relatively silent save for the obtrusive sound of the engines, but he could feel the tension rising.

"What's in there?" another officer asked.

"Just wait," the chief officer hushed, raising his voice. He walked over and moved the officer aside. "I've never seen an unsealed crate of perishables before."

The top of the crate was thrown to the side as a few officers took a peek into what was inside. Cherries.

"See? Nothing," the ship captain said. "Are you done here?"

The chief turned around, and just as he did, the crate completely fell apart, bursting at the sides. The cherries fell all over the place, as did the carbines that were sloppily packaged underneath a sheet of plywood. Upon seeing the weapons, the room froze.

One of the passengers behind Theo grabbed an officer and slit his throat with a small knife. The motion was so fast that another second or so passed before blood began spilling from the wound, causing the officer to gurgle and wrap his hands around his neck, desperately trying to close it. At this moment the other officers panicked and began drawing weapons, but not before several of the other passengers began assaulting them. The attackers were mostly male, relatively young and able-bodied, and were carrying small slashing weapons. Some had pistols, and as they drew them from their holsters, the officers on the other side of the room began shooting. The first shots missed and hit an innocent bystander shielding himself in a corner. The officers split up and took cover behind the crates dividing them from everyone else. The gunshots stopped for just a second as everyone tried to gather their breath.

The man who slit the officer's throat stood up and wiped some blood across his face, red and gleaming as the stripes on the flag. The innocents were sitting helpless in the middle of the standoff.

"Vox!" the chief shouted. "You have some fucking nerve to bring weapons aboard!"

The ship captain drew his broomhandle and laughed. "The way I see it, officer, you have some nerve. Walking right into a snake pit takes cojones."

"You won't get away with this alive!"

"Maybe you should concern yourself with your own health first, officer!" the captain shouted back, firing off a few rounds.

Theo kneeled and shielded his head, looking for a place to hide himself. Before he could move, the ship started taking off at full-throttle, causing everyone on board to lose balance. Some crates that were stacked dropped on top of people, killing them, and gunshots rang out. The firefight had begun.

Daylight spun throughout the room as the ship banked hard left and more crates fell over. As Theo looked for the quickest path to the helm, another broken crate, labeled "flammables" in red ink, burst open from bullet fire. He flinched thinking that it would explode, but thankfully the petroleum inside had not ignited. He trekked through a sea of terrified immigrants and flying bullets to get to the stairs, but the situation got worse when some idiot let off a shot that sparked the fuel on fire. Theo turned around and watched the flames spread on one side of the room.

"What're you doin' boy?! Get moving!" a voice said from behind. He looked and saw Buck following closely.

Then the entire crate exploded. Air began rushing into the room and skyscrapers appeared to be in plain sight. The ship was barely navigating the treacherous structures, but Theo had no clue if they would ever reach their destination. It was unlikely at this point, he thought to himself in an understated fashion.

He and Buck escaped the cargo bay, still ringing with gunfire, with the added effect of a broken hull and spreading flames. The airship, partially kept afloat by a balloon system, began tilting to one side because one of the balloons had been punctured. The flames licked the exterior and it wasn't long before the entire side of the ship was completely ablaze. Police sirens blared as backup pursued the Vox-commandeered airship.

"What now?" Buck asked.

Theo thought for a second. They were pretty close to the city itself, and this ship wasn't going to be flying for long. It would have to land soon if the pilot didn't want to sink into the sea below. The two made their way to the controls next to the doorway.

The flames would suffocate everyone on board if there was no air circulation.

"Let's open the cargo door," he said.

"Are you nuts?!"

He looked at the control pad, but wasn't completely sure of what to do. There was a lever.

"No. Just ballsy."

Theo pulled down the lever and the steel doors began to lower. An intercom in the cabin began calling out.

"Attention, cargo doors are now opening. Repeat, cargo doors are opening."

Air rushed into the bay, revealing exactly what was behind them. Theo went to the window to see where the ship was headed.

"A town square. People."

He ran to the helm of the ship, which was just another few hallways down, and met up with the pilot. The ship was quickly losing stability.

"Land there," Theo yelled as he entered the room.

"What?!" the pilot asked, her hands glued to the wheel.

"THERE. In the square."

"Are you nuts?!"

He was unmoved.

"We need to land there or everyone's going to die," he said. "The ship is on fire. I don't want to die. Do you want to die?"

She was about to panic. "I…I don't know what…"

"Enough of this."

Theo reached for the controls, but as he did, she punched him in the face.

"Ow!"

"If anyone's landing this ship, it's going to be me!" she stated.

He massaged the section of the jaw where she'd planted her fist.

"Brace yourself."

The Rainchaser – Washington Square

"What can I do?" Elizabeth asked helplessly. "Please! Tell me."

The ship was approaching fast, and it didn't look too stable. If the flames continued to spread, more balloons would burst and everyone on board would die.

"How's your reaction time?" Robert asked. "You'll need it."

The people around her began to scatter. Fink was nowhere to be found, and neither were his security guards. In mere seconds, the square was in a full-scale panic, and as the crowd went in one direction, her servant Ingrid tried moving in the other. Elizabeth witnessed the flaming ship lose speed; if it landed in the square, all sorts of people would be killed.

But something caught her eye. She squinted, and noticed that there was a gray ripple protruding from the base of the flames.

"Hey. That's—"

When she turned to Robert, he was gone. Elizabeth knew exactly what to do.

Mustering the rest of her courage, she sprinted towards the edge of the square in the direction of the ship, moving past civilians who were hasty to leave. On the ground at the edge, next to the fence, was a weeping child who had lost his mother. She reached the fringe of the platform, which doubled as an extended observation space for people to relax, and stood her ground. The wind swept her hat away.

She was finally revealed to Songbird.

Theo trusted his life to this young pilot, likely the captain's daughter, who probably had little flight experience. He wasn't sure whether to scream at her not to screw up or trust that she'd do a good job. Nonetheless she looked deep in concentration, sweat dripping down her chin as she maneuvered past floating structures.

"So, you're proficient at this piloting thing," was what he managed to come up with.

She shot him a glare. "Shut up, pendejo."

As Theo paced along the side of the wall, Buck made his way in from a short inspection of the cargo bay. "Civilian casualties minimal."

He raised an eyebrow at this statement. Which one of them was he speaking to?

"We're going to get a whooping from Daisy with this one."

"If we survive," the black man said, walking up to the window.

"We'll make it!" she hissed.

Footsteps came their way.

"There's the pilot!" a voice yelled from the doorway.

It was a patrolman. Just as he came through the door, Theo managed to strike him in the neck because he had been hidden just to the side. The guard hung his head down to grasp his neck, and then he shot a knee up to the man's face, knocking him out cold.

"Impressive," Buck said. "Didn't know you could scuffle."

Theo looked down at the limp body, then up to the pilot, who gave him a nod of thanks. Just as he'd had enough of unwanted surprises, the entire ship rocked them off-balance.

"What was that?" the pilot asked.

"That was our fuel," Buck said. "Shit. I think we're about to go up in smoke."

She pounded the wheel out of frustration.

"Almost there! Just hold on. We just need to land."

Theo walked up to the window of the helm as they were quickly losing altitude. The buildings to the side were already close enough that they would land, but he wasn't sure if the next tank would explode. This could be it.

He pressed his hand up next to the window and got the closest view of Columbia that he'd ever had. It was spectacular, and unlike any place he had ever seen before; a city of dreams with rails in the sky. If the next tank exploded now, they wouldn't even touch the edge of the ground. Likely, they would combust, crash into the quantum field keeping the city afloat, and take a several mile plunge back to the Earth.

In the distance was an evacuating crowd, but he could see a figure standing close to the edge of an observation deck, her dress dancing with the wind. She was standing strong with her hands held out and had no intention of moving. How strange.

He pressed his other hand up to the deck and braced for impact. The ship was likely going to bite it on the side of the deck like a basketball smashing the rim. When they got close enough, he could see right into her eyes.

Then, something strange came about. His vision was suddenly clouded in gray and he wondered if this was simply a pre-death symptom. The woman pulled her hands apart as if tearing something open, and just as she did, a large flying creature swept in and snatched her off the ground.

The ship was thrown off balance and kicked upwards, no longer descending. He wasn't sure what was happening but he was starting to faint. Theo's vision clouded up and the last thing he remembered was being thrown across the room.

He wasn't sure if the airship had exploded or landed. And if he was dead, this was a sour note to leave on.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it. I have very interesting things planned for this story, so don't forget to follow it. And please leave a review! I'd like to hear your thoughts on it.