Everything around Subject Delta was so new. However, there was something that remained the same. Eleanor. Her voice was the only thing that was giving him some sort of comfort in this long forgotten place. Eleanor was different now, older, yes, but still possessed the innocence of a child. His eternal daughter he was chemically attached to. How long had it been that he was laying here dead? How did it come to all of this? All he knew is that aside from Eleanor's presence, he was the loneliest being in Rapture.
However, he wasn't completely alone.
After Delta met Tenanbaum, there was another voice that Delta heard.
"Looks like I'm your guide for this ride, kid," A man's voice could be heard through is Audio Diary. It sounded much different than Tenanbaum's voice had through the device, but he couldn't see his face. His voice was smooth with an odd twang mixed into it that made it unique. Delta glanced at his Audio Diary as he listened, this being the only other company that seemed sane down in Rapture. "I'm goin' to tell you how to get over to find me and how we can find Eleanor."
Delta did not respond to his voice, but did not show any signs of disagreeing with the man. He simply listened to the voice belonging to Augustus Sinclair.
"That's a good boy," Sinclair's voice encouraged the Big Daddy as he started to head toward the train station. "There's so much we gotta do before we can head off though."
The Big Daddy understood, and did all that he was told. There was no sense of time for him. All that Delta could comprehend fully was the sound of this strange man's voice. However, Delta could understand something else almost innate inside of him. A sudden clank caught Delta's attention which reverberated around Delta's ears through his helmet. Muffled voices from a nearby distance. Delta knew something was about to happen, most likely, someone went into a nearby room. He wasn't completely alone after all.
Augustus Sinclair leaned back in his chair, watching the screen that allowed him to see through Delta's eyes. A long finger extracted a cigarette from his pocket and he slipped it between his dry lips as he paid close attention. The sweet tang of nicotine brushed his tongue as he held it in his mouth in silent anticipation for what was to come next.
"Watch out," he warned almost as in a whisper o the Big Daddy. "I think you've got yourself a bad surprise on the other side of the room..."
It was a vague warning, but Sinclair was curious about Delta's instincts. Survival always was key in Rapture, which he learned through economic reasons. But just how did Delta see the world? Sinclair couldn't help but be fascinated by him.
"How much of you actually is human?" he whispered to himself as he finally lit up the cigarette. The smoke danced wildly at first, but then dwindled down into a waltz around Sinclair's dark eyes. He hunched forward, his eyes not moving away from the screen.
The noises on the other side of the metal door were now better defined. Delta equipped his drill, knowing exactly what to do. His genetics seemed to be altered to have this innate ability. With no hesitation, Delta walked through the metal door, his guard locked into place. A splicer, his body deformed, his flesh smelt rotten and decayed, lunged impulsively at the Big Daddy. Delta made no hesitation as he revved up his drill, making sure to press it firmly against the splicer's torso. A splash of red accompanied by screams and the sound of tearing flesh painted Detla's helmet. Another splicer lunged to attack, not at all concerned about his fallen comrade. ADAM seemed to twist the nature of any being who indulged in it. This was now the fate of Rapture.
Sinclair's face did not change as he watched the bloody horror on the small screen, but instead, he seemed intrigued by the situation. It had been ten years since Subject Delta's death, and yet, he still knew how to fight. Delta truly seemed to be a mechanical soldier of sorts. He knew his place and silently carried out his mission with efficiency.