The following is a work of fiction. All names, places, characters and events are either the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is purely coincidental. The Gunslinger Girl© anime and manga series, as well as all associated characters therein are the property Yu Aida, unless specifically noted otherwise.
All members of the New Brookendis council are the property of the author, ChaosKin640. Xaio'Xyn Reaper, Jade and Emily are the property of the author. Jacob, Samantha, Zachariah, Sophia and Melanie Mehrandish are all the property of the author. Costante and Nina Barone, Enzo and Lucretia Desimone are all the property of the author.
Avise and Agapita Mancini are the property of their creator, Robert Frazer.
Michele and Kara Pagani are the property of their creator, Kiskaloo.
Elio, Marina and Marissa Alboreto are the property of their creator, Professor Voodoo.
Alpha is the property of his creator, Boomer_Gonz.
Brain and Allison McDonnell are the property of their creator, MP5.
Prologue: The Evolving Battlefield
Quinn strode through the alabaster halls of the Spire, her mind awhirl with worry. She could feel her stomach churning as nervousness clouded her thoughts. The fact that she no longer possessed a real stomach was slight incongruous, yet that fact failed to stop her mind from generating the perceived sensations of a nauseous stomach.
The strained, almost frantic look of worry on the messenger's face had revealed more about the message's importance than the message itself. The fact that the council had deemed it necessary to send a member of the elite Death's Legion to ensure the message's safe delivery spoke volumes to her.
Despite her inner turmoil, Quinn managed, albeit with no small amount of difficulty, to maintain a mask of calm serenity, as befitted her station within New Brookendis' ruling body. She nodded to those she passed, offering a smile and some brief words of greetings to those few she recognized. To her great reluctance, almost everyone she strode by recognized the hurry she was in, and made no move to impede her progress. Of course, that could equally have been due to the fact that she had rushed straight from the gate chambers, and was still outfitted in her blood-spattered armour.
This high up within the Spire, most of the grand statues and sweeping murals that were common in the more public areas had given way to simple, bare stretches of pale, gold and blue veined marble corridors. The few doors set between the towering pillars that supported the curving barrel ceiling more than thirty feet overhead were of plain mahogany. These parts of the Spire were devoted exclusively to administrative offices, and were only ever seen by the upper-echelon staff responsible for running the city. As such, there was little need to impress.
The doors leading into the council chamber itself were, of course, the sole exception to this. The doors, just coming into Quinn's view as she rounded the final curve in the hallway, towered over her. Rising some fifteen feet at the peak of their arched form, the doors were wide enough to allow half-a-dozen men to pass through comfortably. Forged of solid aulorium, and gilded in pure gold, the doors bore the six interlocked rings sigil of the High Council.
Quinn had never understood the necessity of such absurdly massive doors. After all, the council chamber was hallowed ground, forbidden for any but the council members themselves to enter; and there was hardly any need for them to impress each other.
The guards flanking the threshold, on the other hand, Quinn was perfectly comfortable with. She allowed herself a thin smile as she studied the pair.
Their heads rising almost level with the highest point of the doors, the twin guardians stared down at her impassively as she approached. Bearing the basic physical forms of a centaur, both were fully armoured from head to toe. No, that wasn't entirely accurate. The pair weren't truly armoured, they were armour. Steel War Golems, the identical pair were composed almost entirely of solid aulorium armour plating. Their equine lower torsos allowed them to maintain perfect balance and stability, and as she had seen often enough on the battlefield, a terrifyingly deceptive capacity for speed, as well.
The golems' lower set of arms were folded loosely across their chests, gauntleted hands resting on the hilts of huge, curving tulwars. The blades were almost nine feet in length, and could cleave through the armoured hide and bone of a balroc demon without the slightest difficulty. Their upper arms gripped the shafts of towering lances, each pole almost as thick around as Quinn's head. The lances' four-foot long spearheads, also forged of solid aulorium, rose almost to the ceiling.
Quinn had witnessed demon hordes numbering in the millions break and flee in the face of a concentrated charge of steel war golems. Frankly, Quinn didn't blame them. Not even she would be eager to stare down several thousand of the hulking goliaths. Then again, the more she dwelled on it, the idea of pitting her own strength and skill against a war golem charge sounded rather appealing. It would certainly prove an excellent challenge. She could almost feel her blood surging in response to the thought. Of course, she didn't have real blood anymore either, but that was beside the point.
Marching resolutely up to the doors, Quinn didn't bother to so much as slow her pace. The golems reacted accordingly, and each swept one colossal arm out, twisting their upper torsos slightly to push open the doors leading into the council chamber. A brilliant white light exploded outward from the crack, flooding the corridor and sending the faintest of rumbling vibrations through the ground. The overwhelming intensity of the light would have blinded her had she not known it was coming and shifted the spectrum filtering of her artificial eyes accordingly to negate it.
Passing through the threshold, she felt a faint tingle run through her body, the intricate spell-weave of the protective ward scanning and evaluating her presence. Almost immediately the blinding light faded, and she was treated to tell-tale twisting, pulling sensation of having stepped through a rift-gate. Existing in an isolated pocket universe, the council chamber was linked to the mortal plane solely through the connecting gateway, activated by the light-shield. Had she been deemed an intruder, and assuming she had survived the ward's defensive reactions, the doorway would only have let out into a sealed, empty vacuole-realm, trapping the unfortunate interloper for eternity.
Blinking in the suddenly dim light, Quinn shifted her eyes back into the white-light spectrum, adjusting her retinal structure to compensate for the significantly reduced illumination.
"Well, how good of you to finally deign to join us, Quinn. We've only been waiting for you for an hour. It certainly isn't as if we all have other important matters to attend to, to be able to sit around waiting for you to show up." Looking across the relatively small, austere room, Quinn locked eyes with the man who had spoken. His ebony-black skin seemed to soak up the muted light provided by the dozen glow-orbs spaced evenly around the circular wall. His head was completely shaved, with the exception of a braided top-knot that hung between his shoulder-blades, falling almost to his waist. He wore a flowing robe of deep indigo and crimson, cut in a reserved yet elegant style that served to accentuate his lean, muscular build.
"My sincere apologies Damien," Quinn responded, with only the faintest hint of an acerbic bite in her voice, "for my keeping you from your pressing duties between Tiamat's thighs."
Damien surged to his feet, fists slamming down upon the table with enough force to crack the ancient wood. His face twisted into a terrifying visage of divine rage, his deep, rumbling voice booming through the chamber with deafening force. "How dare you? I should rend that synthetic body of yours apart, one cell at a time for that!"
"Oh shut up and sit down, Damien," The man who had spoken, Daniel, lounged casually in his seat, thick arms folded loosely across his massive barrel-chest, one booted foot propped up on the table.
"Don't mind him, Quinn; he's just being pissy because he thinks we're wasting our time."
"We are wasting our time!" Damien retorted sharply. "I see no evidence that this…threat, is anything more than exaggerated grand-standing by an embittered field agent looking to score favours with us."
"I wouldn't call the confirmed presence of three maras "grand-standing" Damien. Reaper wouldn't waste his own time sending an infiltration team if he wasn't interested in something on that world." Kevin, seated to Daniel's left, spoke with a measured calm that he used when trying to diffuse a potentially volatile situation. "In either case," he went on as Quinn took her seat to Kevin's right, "whether this is a ploy to draw our focus or not, the threat is real enough to warrant this meeting."
"That is something yet to be determined. I, for one, am inclined to agree with Damien, and am not convinced." Nareela gazed impassively between the gathered council members, her large, ice-blue eyes swirling with inner energies.
"Which is why we have come together to discuss the matter," Raphesiel, seated opposite Damien and dressed in near-identical fashion, stated simply. Where Damien's robes were of a dark blues and sinister reds, Raphesiel's garments were woven of pale creams and soft golden-yellows.
Hair the colour of spun gold tumbled about his shoulders, cascading down his back in a shimmering wave. His clean-shaven face seemed sculpted from the same alabaster marble as the corridors of the Spire, each line and curved plane an example of physical perfection given living flesh. Where Damien seemed to draw in and devour all nearby light, Raphesiel appeared to radiate a soothing brilliance.
"Perhaps we should begin by reviewing Lucas' report, shall we?" At Raphesiel's words, the center of the table began to emit a dull glow, and long strings of words materialised in the air before them all. Quinn scanned the highlights quickly, confirming what she had suspected.
She'd known that Lucas Raveen was one of dozens of field agents sent to oversee potential target sites for a demonic incursion. He had been stationed on this particular word for almost two years now.
As the report was scrolling through, Raphesiel continued on in his analysis. "According to Lucas, he has strong reason to believe Reaper is setting himself up to make a play for control of this world."
Daniel straightened up in his seat, leaning his elbows against the table. "Why? What's on this world that would interest Reaper? From what I can see, the planet's Magick Resonance rating is almost non-existent. He can't be planning to open a Hell Gate and establish a foothold there, can he? Without a viable anchor point, it would take a ridiculous amount of power on his end to maintain the connection."
"That's true, which leads me to believe Reaper's interest lies in recruiting, rather then invasion," Kevin replied, selecting a particular section of the flowing words, and focusing on them. "From what Lucas reports here, this world is on the verge of developing advanced cybernetic technologies. My guess…"
Before Kevin could continue, Damien barked out a harsh, cynical laugh, cutting him off. "Advanced cybernetic technologies? That is a joke, right? By the Abyss, these people are playing with primitive carbon-fibre weaves and reinforced plastics. These…cybernetics are little more than binary-input robots. Common children's toys utilize technology that is centuries ahead of what he is claiming these people have developed. Am I seriously supposed to believe that this is the grand threat looming over us?"
For the first time, the man sitting to Quinn's other side spoke up, his voice measured and calm, though Quinn could feel the faint quivering in her mind that spoke of his tightly controlled frustration. "It's not the technology itself that Reaper is after, Damien, but the brains behind the technology. If Reaper is able to recruit the man responsible for inventing this technology, than it is entirely possible that, with the resources at his disposal, Reaper could commission the invention of cybernetic advances that are of a more equal footing to what we have available. Even the slimmest chance of Reaper getting his hands on nano-cellular technology is a threat we cannot afford to overlook."
"Spare me your dramatics, Alex. Reaper could develop the technology on his own faster than it would take some bumbling monkey to figure it out."
"And if he starts gathering several dozen of these "bumbling monkeys" to work in collaboration?" Kevin interjected on the conversation before it could grow out of hand. "According to this information, less than four years prior to the advent of these new cybernetics, the most advanced comparable technology was a simple computer-controlled robotic arm equipped with a pressure sensitive clamp in place of a hand that could pick up small objects.
"Four years later and all of a sudden they're using micro-polymer synthetic muscle tissues and laying the groundwork for rudimentary bio-neural interfaces. That's an almost unfathomably rapid leap forward in technological advancement.
"With enough of these genius minds working together, Reaper won't even need to take advantage of the standard time-differential inherent to Hell; he can certainly afford to spend the extra millennium needed to play catch-up.
"Alex is right; we can't afford to ignore this."
"Perhaps," Nareela said, long thin fingers stroking her curved, dangling facial antennae. "But there are tens, even hundreds of thousands of such worlds with the potential for advanced cybernetics. We don't have the resources to secure all of them."
Alex shook his head, pinching his temples between the thumb and forefinger of one hand. "We aren't proposing to. This world's technology level is still low enough that we can take the time for a more methodical infiltration operation. And so far it's the only one we've received confirmation of demonic presence. In regards to those other worlds, if it comes down to it, we are always left with the option of a quarantine purge." His last statement drew everyone's attention; not for the severity of the proposal, but the fact that Alex had openly proposed it.
After several moments of stunned silence, Kevin hazarded to speak carefully. "And you would support a full planetary purge?"
Alex sighed, nodding with obvious reluctance. "If it meant keeping Reaper away from nano-cellular technology, then yes, I would support a purge of any infected world."
Several more drawn-out moments of silence ensued, before Raphesiel finally pulled everyone's attention back. "Very well. In that case, I believe that our only logical course is to begin an immediate infiltration, for the purposes of evaluating the precise level of the threat posed. Above all else though, this scientist, a doctor," Raphesiel briefly scanned the original report for the relevant name. "Doctor Bianchi must be kept under close observation. We must determine whether there is any chance he will accept any offer made on behalf of Reaper."
"Isn't that part of what Lucas' job down there is?" Daniel asked, genuinely confused.
"It is, but his cover was compromised during the course of his identifying the maras. Reaper will know he's there by now, and Lucas needs to be extracted before he's killed. Which means we need someone to take his place."
Silence descended on the group once more. After a short time, Quinn suddenly realized that every other member of the council was peering intently at her.
"Oh shit, you're not serious are you?"
Raphesiel answered her softly, his voice almost apologetic in tone. "You're the only one qualified for this operation, Quinn. It has to be you."
"How am I the only one qualified? I'm a soldier, not a spy." Raphesiel pulled up a different section of the field report, detailing the specifics of Dr. Bianchi's work on developing the advanced cybernetics that had drawn Reaper's attention.
Quinn sat in stunned silence, her mouth hanging open as she read through Lucas' summary of the location and Dr. Bianchi's work. She whispered a low benediction to the ancestral spirits, unable to believe what she was seeing. "That's where you want me inserted? Are you out of your minds?"
"Your synthetic body is the only plausible means of pulling off a successful infiltration."
"And what happens when Bianchi and his team start cutting out my "organs" and replacing my limbs with their cybernetic prostheses? That's a lot of Omega Cells to leave lying around. The whole point of this is to prevent Reaper acquiring technology comparable to our Omega Cells and now you want to have human scientists tossing entire organs' worth of them in the trash for any demon agent to pick through and take back to Hell?"
"Your nano-cellular tissue can be safe-coded to self-destruct upon detachment from the core body, can't they? All it would take is for you to pre-program a set time delay before they vaporize themselves."
"So send someone else to infiltrate some other section of the Agency. Why do I have to go under cover as an actual operative?"
To her surprise, it was Alex who answered her, hand waving over the control interface in front of him to shift the display to the relevant information. "The agency's employee screening process is too strict for us to risk trying to slip someone in. The very nature of the agency's combat operatives invalidates the need for any kind of strenuous security-checks.
"And as an operative, you will be able to maintain a much closer surveillance level on Bianchi and his team."
Quinn knew there was no point arguing. They were right. She was uniquely qualified for the mission. With a sense of resigned futility, she nodded, accepting the burden. "Alright, I'll do it."
The council meeting broke up quickly after that, with each member making their way out of the chamber at their own pace. Damien was the first to leave, practically racing towards the door in his rush to be on his way. Kevin and Daniel left together at a much more causal pace, their heads close together in quiet conversation. Nareela glided out of the room close on their heels, her stately poise and grace granting her the appearance of a queen striding elegantly through her royal court.
Raphesiel spared a few moments to offer Quinn a sympathetic hand to her shoulder, allowing some of his soothing energy to seep into her. Then he too left, leaving Quinn and Alex alone together.
"I'm sorry we had to spring that on you like that."
Quinn shook her head slightly, dismissing his worry. "It's okay. I understand the urgency. I know we can't always have the time we want to pick apart every little detail of an operation until everyone is satisfied with every single aspect. I'll deal with it."
"Still, I would have preferred to tell you in private." He leaned in close, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.
She smiled at the tender gesture, reaching up to grasp his hand in her own. "I know, Alex. But don't worry about me; I'm a big girl, remember? And I'm a soldier; I know how to follow orders when necessary.
"I just wish we didn't have to resort to these shadow-games. I hate maras. They slip into a person's dreams and dig in their claws, taking complete control of your mind. It's nearly impossible to tell who might be possessed by one. I don't like that kind of fighting. Stick me in the front lines on any battlefield and I'll carve a path through anything and anyone in front of me, but this…" she trailed off, letting her head sink onto Alex's shoulder. She could feel his sympathy and understanding washing through her mind, and she drew some small measure of strength from it.
"I don't like it either, Quinn. I'm a soldier at heart too, if you recall? But it's been centuries since we could afford to engage Reaper in a direct conflict. The powers we each hold at our disposal would cause an unacceptable level of irreparable collateral damage from the first clash."
"I know that. I was there at the battle of Ohmarelle, you know. By the end of that war there wasn't even enough debris left of the galaxy to rebuild so much as a single star."
"Yeah, Ohmarelle was definitely a loss for everyone involved, which is why we have to do things this way now. It's regrettable, but war, like everything else in life, is always evolving. This is simply the new face of the modern battlefield."
They sat in silence for a time, each savouring the feel of the other's presence. Quinn closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in Alex's unique sent. He wasn't wearing any cologne, much to her delight. She hated the way it masked his own, natural odours. It was comforting, familiar smell.
She felt him plant a tender kiss to the top of her head, eliciting a broad grin from her. "What do you say we swing home before we get things under way? We've probably got a couple of hours before we really have to get you ready for insertion."
"Oh, don't tempt me," Quinn purred. "Unfortunately, seeing as how I'll probably be in deep cover for at least three, maybe even five years, I have my doubts a couple of hours will be enough time to say good-bye." Alex chuckled, his whole body shaking beside her.
"Good point. Although, with the mind-wipe you're going to need to run on yourself, technically you won't even realize that any time has passed at all."
"Christ, don't remind me. I'm freaked out enough as it is about having to dump all of my memories. Are you sure it's even necessary?"
"Unfortunately, yes. Any subconscious knowledge of who and what you are could put you and your mission at risk. All it would take is one instinctual trigger-command being sent to your neural-net and all your code-locks would reverse themselves."
"I'd like to think I can control myself a little better than that," she retorted, slightly put out by his doubts.
"And if you came face-to-face with one of Reaper's agents and you recognized it? You said it yourself Quinn: you're a soldier, not a spy. You have over seventy-thousand years of battle-hardened instincts ingrained into every fibre of your being. Can you honestly say that you would be able to resist the impulse to retaliate and attack if confronted by a demon?"
"Okay, okay, I get the point. But I still don't like the idea of walking around down there completely blind."
"Don't worry. I'll still be up here watching over you."
She twisted around to look into his eyes, seeing the simple sincerity in his face. "You will?"
"Absolutely." He replied without the slightest hesitation, his arm squeezing tighter around her shoulders. "I'll have my eyes and ears locked on you at all times."
She cooed softly in response, reaching up to brush one hand down the side of his face, her fingers curling in his close-cropped beard. The soft, tightly curling hairs were a rich chestnut brown, the dim light from the glow-orbs picking out the thin threads of red running through. "Aww, my guardian angel; whatever would I do without you?"
"Oh you'd have been dead long ago without me."
Quinn planted a fist in his ribs, feigning indignation. "You bastard! I'll have you know that I would have gotten on just fine without you. You, on the other hand, would be lying dead in the corner of that Terahkan prison cell if not for me."
Alex grinned down at her, his pale blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh you think so, huh? Well I'll have you know that I was perfectly capable of escaping that dungeon on my own anytime I wanted."
Incredulous, Quinn folded her arms beneath her breasts, staring at him with one slim eyebrow slightly arched. "Really?"
"Yes really. You honestly think sticking the most powerful earth-mage alive in a dungeon carved out of solid rock was going to be able to hold me?"
Quinn sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "You're getting old, Alex; you're memory is fading on you. As I recall, you weren't exactly in full possession of your abilities at the time."
"Bah; details, details," Alex said, giving a derisive snort. "I'd have gotten out eventually. And look who's talking, calling me old. You're two thousand years older than I am."
"Oh no, no, no; not anymore I'm not. Brand spanking new synthetic body, remember? I'm technically less than three thousand years old again." That drew a reflective frown from Alex, who pulled back slightly, one hand scratching at his chin the way he did when deep in thought.
"Ouch, that's right. Hmm, that's a little creepy, when you think about it. Our children are technically older than you are, then.
"So what does that make me, your sugar-daddy or something?"
Quinn laughed at the sudden image that notion produced in her mind, and she twisted around to reach up, wrapping her arms around Alex's neck, hugging him close. "Sure, Alex, you're my big, strong sugar-daddy. But if you try to pimp me out to your friends, I'm going to have to start breaking bones."
"Duly noted," he chuckled in reply.
He bent his head forward then, his lips softly brushing against hers. She pressed herself tighter against him, his arms slipping tenderly around her waist. She mewled softly into his lips as he continued to kiss her with increasing force. He hands began to slide up her back, caressing her shoulders.
Realizing where they were, Quinn pulled back slightly, her face flushing faintly red in mild embarrassment. "This probably isn't the most appropriate place for us to start feeling each other up in, Alex."
Staring down at her, Alex gazed into her emerald eyes for a moment, not understanding what she meant. Then he broke out laughing, his head thrown back slightly to stare up at the grand, vaulted ceiling.
"Yeah, you're probably right. I can just imagine how Raphesiel would react if he found out."
"Not to mention Damien would no doubt throw a fit the likes of which had never been seen before."
"Yeah, out of jealousy, would be my guess. Which reminds me, what was with the Tiamat jibe?"
It was Quinn's turn then to look at him in confusion. "What? He is bedding her, isn't he?"
"I have no idea. But seeing as she's an incarnation given life by Damien's power, I would assume that would make her technically an extension of Damien himself."
"So would that be considered sex, or masturbation?"
Alex sighed, wiping one hand down the length of his face. He leaned back in his chair gazing up into the shadowy depths of the ceiling, as if some piece of divine wisdom could be found hidden within. "I honestly don't know, and frankly I have no desire what-so-ever to find out, either." He turned back to look at her, capturing her gaze. "You're welcome to ask him yourself, if your curious."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, exasperated. "Thanks, I think I'll pass if it's all the same to you. Being fried to a cinder in an explosive eruption of divine fury isn't on my planned list of things to do before I die."
The conversation hit a natural lull then, both realizing that the time was upon them. They rose from their seats together, striding to the twin, towering doors. At the edge of the threshold, they both stopped, turning towards each other. Impulsively, Alex reached out and hugged Quinn tight to his chest, one hand stroking her shoulder-length, blood-red hair. "You keep yourself safe Quinn, you hear me." All trace of humour in his voice was gone. "I almost lost you once; I won't go through that again." Quinn reached around to grip him tight, hugging him as fiercely as he held her.
Far too soon for Quinn's liking, they separated and, spending one last, lingering moment gazing into each other's eyes, stepped back through the doorway, on their way to war.
