12-6-2013; Hey again, guys. Adding an update onto the series as much as I can - this one took a little bit as my creativity and thoughts have been sorta' scattered today. Sorry if it's a little choppy or makes a little less sense. :( Though, I hope you all enjoy it, and hope I did okay.
Once again, onward! Let's plunge further into Rapture!
Delta wanders along the halls of Rapture once more, his hands grudgingly balled into fists at his sides. The city is silent presently, which only now sours his mood rather than improves it. His loneliness toys with him as the scene of the dying Rosie replays in his mind constantly, like a glitched movie. Helplessness wells up inside him, and he lets his hands go limp as he groans in sadness. Is this how it will always be for him? Why is wanting to reunite with his daughter such a problem, anyway? He isn't trying to take her away from the 'Family' that she resides in – he just wants to be at her side!
Movement somewhere near him breaks him from his melancholy state, and his head jerks upward and twists and turns in agitation. What now? Now that he stops to pay more attention to his present location… he is in some sort of small office. He should stop walking without being aware of where he's going... Damn it. The door to his left is bolted shut with an irritating door control alarm beeping along noisily behind it. He groans in annoyance, trudging into the small alcoves of the room as he systematically checks through the desks and delivery boxes in an attempt to ignore the alarm. In his search, a large glove catches his eye, and with his curiosity piqued, he grabs and pulls it from its hiding place. Straightening his body as he stands up, he looks over it in intrigue as Sinclair's voice penetrates his thoughts once more.
"Kid, that's a long-distance hack tool! If you load a dart into the small mechanism at the top of it, you can fire them off at objects that you normally can't reach. It has a few other uses too, but I don't think you've got the other ammunitions anywhere nearby. Since we have a door alarm over yonder, how about…," the man cuts off as he watches in horror; Delta slips the glove into his packs and instead brings his fist into the glass window separating the office from the next hallway, and he hops through it. "…Or… or that. That works too," he laughs nervously as he finishes his sentence, and Delta chuckles in response. Trudging around the corner into the room with the door control, he quickly hacks into it and opens the door in case he comes through later, and gathers a couple more wads of dollars. Satisfied with his way of dealing with the obstacle, and with the quiet silence now present after the vile device shut off, he grins behind his mask and continues forward. "Y'know, kid," Sinclair mutters into his ear; receiving a grunt from the Daddy, the businessman pauses in hesitation, and then proceeds with his thought. "I've been thinkin'… Now, I know it ain't any of my business, but… why are you going through all this? For Eleanor?"
The Alpha Series stops, surprise blinking on his screen. Why am I doing this? The air settles for a minute, and only the sounds of the pipes rumbling above echo about the room. Delta frowns as minutes pass, and he shrugs.
"I do it… because I love my daughter. Because I have to do it… for her."
Judging by the lack of an immediate response, the Daddy suspects he managed to catch the aging businessman off-guard. Pursing his lips, he shakes his head and progresses down the hall without another sound as his eyes scan along the walls for any hidden Splicers. A couple bodies dot the floor, but nothing in particular shows any signs of life save himself, and the giant subtly wonders in prayer if the Family has chosen to give up the constant hunt. Dabbling in his own thoughts, Delta is oblivious as the Big Sister creeps after him from a safe distance; curiosity remains blatant on her expression behind her helmet, and as she realizes more and more about this strange man…
…She is fascinated by him.
He clomps along clumsily, she notes, but she also acknowledges the care he takes in everything that he handles – how gentle he can be; how kind he can be. A warm, somewhat familiar affection wells inside her as she watches him. Maybe I'm hunting the wrong Alpha Series…? No, that can't be it – none of the others even have the ability to think, let alone… have emotion. Is Mother mistaken? Perhaps she meant a rogue Daddy under her control? Mr. Bubbles—I mean, Subject Delta can't be the monster that… Her mind stops as she jumps in fright. Her target pauses ahead of her, and he's bent over; his hands are tending to a small Sentry Bot as he repairs it with dutiful hands. The Sister takes this time to dart behind a column, watching him inquisitively. Just what is Subject Delta?
Delta hums a thoughtful tune – something from his past before he came to Rapture, he assumes – and his hands expertly wander over the small bot in his care. He applies a tiny bolt of electricity into the mainframe of the robot to jumpstart it, and he fiddles carefully with the wiring linked to its duties and obligations; he can't have it shooting him in the back as an enemy while in a scuffle with Splicers, after all. Once finished and his fiddling found fruitful, he clicks the power source on and shuts the wiring panel as the small inhuman object spins to life. It hums happily, floating around his head amiably, and his screen flashes a jubilant green. Pleased with his work, he motions to the bot to follow him, and the duo set off with the Big Sister stalking at their heels in the shadows.
Stopping for a moment at an intersection a distance ahead from where he picked up the robot, Delta glances down the three hallways he can make his way through, and he grimaces. Which way leads to what? Tapping the button on his helmet to page Sinclair through the radio, the southern voice rouses awkwardly from a quiet, human slumber. From Delta's end, he smirks as he hears Sinclair cough in surprise, his hands flying up as he presumably tilts back in his seat, and then Sinclair shouts in frustration; hurried shifting follows what sounds to be an upturned seat, and his attention returns to the radio.
"Damn it, kid. You can't just do that while I'm sleepin'. I was having a good dream where I wasn't in this hell-hole anymore…!" He drifts off; realizing the lack of sympathy this topic deserves from his partner. "Ahh, whatever. Lemme' see where you are… Oh! Oh, crap. You're at the intersection. Uhhh…" Delta grumbles in agitation, and Sinclair laughs nervously. "Well, I didn't expect you to make it here while I was sleeping. Uhh… lemme' tell you what's down each of the halls. Uh, to the right leads to an aging medical wing, but there's still plenty of stuff in there if you need it. Down… the center, there's going to be what's left of a restaurant once used by the bigwigs of Rapture – plenty of Splicers still running around, meaning plenty of bodies and shooting and stabbing and all that. Down along that left hall… looks like a supply room for the maintenance crew. That one might be worth a good poking through first, since there might be some information to scrounge up, or some workers to drill for clues as to what Lamb's up to. Want to give 'er a go?"
The superhuman shrugs in indifference and his heel pivots as he starts down the left hall. Waving his hand, he motions at his little companion to come along – and the bot whirs and trails after him noisily. Diverting his attention over into the great blue sea beside him, Delta sighs as his gaze follows along a large squid lazily drifting through a school of small fish, and he frowns. What is the point of all of this? What if Eleanor doesn't want me to return to her?
Shaking his head hurriedly, he wills the negativity from his mind and his brows furrow. The door leading to the maintenance room slides up and out of the way and the destructive Daddy steps in. Basic amenities and utilities are visible lying strewn about all over and, much to Delta's dismay, the workforce appears to have already been cut down – bodies litter the floor in pools of red, with deep gashes tracing from their lower torsos up through their necks, into their skulls. The scene would be grotesque to most, and Sinclair gags over the radio, but Delta shrugs the gore off with little difficulty. Nothing new… Pressing into the room, he kneels beside the mutilated corpses and looks them over. Judging by the gashes… it must be one of those 'Big Sisters'. No Splicer or Daddy has a weapon that can make cuts this clean. Though, it must be one hell of a sharp needle. Good thing I never found out.
A thorough look-over of each of the bodies proves to the Daddy that the mutilations are relatively recent, and it occurs to him that Lamb's tabs on him are now likely continuing in a more discrete, hindersome manner. How nice of her. Clenching a fist, he mutters a few curses under his breath and embarks on the task of surveying what remains of the room. Perhaps there's a clue or two left to still salvage, or something I can use…?
Rummaging through the few desks in the corner of the room, and then checking through the cabinets, the lone man shuts his eyes and breathes in deeply. Picked clean and all evidence destroyed. Damn it. Allowing a moment of respite for himself in his fruitless scavenging, he props himself against the wall atop a desk, letting his legs dangle over the metal drawers as he leans his head back. The fan rotating endlessly above piques his interest and he muses with thoughts regarding the device for a time unknown to him – time is becoming irrelevant in his eyes, and he finds counting it rather pointless as the hours drag on. Why keep track, since I'm supposedly a dead man walking, anyway… His gaze averts, and his pupils center on his companion bot as it hovers defensively in front of the door. What in the world? Is someone there?
Slipping back onto his large feet, he tiptoes over and stands beside the door. A hand slides down, and firmly grips the handle of the rivet gun as he tugs it into his arms. Rolling the gun gently in his fingertips, he swallows hard and his eyes train on the door in anxious anticipation. Who is outside?
He slams a fist against the wall, sending a warning echo through the thick metal. He shrugs sheepishly to himself as he can feel it reverberate into the glass tube-like halls, and a short yelp in fright follows it. What in the world…? His bot buzzes in menace – although, to Delta, it isn't that frightening, but perhaps that's to be expected – and the mounted sentry gun strapped to it revs up in preparation.
A scuffling of quick metal feet scraping the stone floor sound from the other side of the wall, and Delta swings his weight around. The door slings open before him, and he charges forward into the hall; his eyes dart along the transparent glass, and he spots a Big Sister frantically fleeing the tunnel. She dives to the left, dashing into the restaurant and the door slams shut behind her.
"Now what in Hell's blazes was that? That can't have been the Big Sister that diced the workers up; too skittish. Kid, have you been being followed without knowing it?" Delta's eyebrows rise in bewilderment as he contemplates the event. Why a Big Sister would be spying on him if they are to be so much stronger than…
Of course! The one that I blasted with a supercharged Electro Bolt…! If she didn't receive any medical attention, she surely wouldn't stand a chance against me right now. She's been following me this entire time instead? She can't be the bug that's watching me for Lamb. She'd need to return to give her findings in timespans that aren't possible…
The renegade subject tilts his head in utter confusion. Hasn't he left himself open to ambush more than a dozen times since that fight? And wouldn't Lamb send for reinforcements to aid the Sister, since she wouldn't have been able to return to show she is alright? Unless… she does not care for what happens to her 'children'. Humph…
Sinclair coughs, gathering Delta's attention quickly as the contemplative Daddy realizes he has been toning his partner out for quite some time. Groaning in question at his ever-wise teammate, Delta shrugs innocently as the man sighs into the radio. "Damn it, kid – let me try and say this quickly so you don't ignore me again. While it may not matter much to you, but I'm sure it's crossed your mind just as fast as it crossed mine… that Sister's wounded, and she just dove into a hornet's nest of deranged murderous lunatics to avoid you. Now, I'm not saying I care what happens to her… but you'd be losing out on a good amount of ADAM…" Sinclair stops speaking, grumbling into the microphone transmitting his voice across the radio. "I can tell by the way you've been acting that the latter fact doesn't matter much, but you'll be going to play the hero anyway. Fine, fine; have it your way."
Delta snickers inside his suit for a moment, knowing the man's lack of empathy is only a rouse. His expression hardens, and his grip on the rivet gun strengthens as his posture corrects itself. Blinking twice in anxiety, his lips purse; I may not have saved the Rosie… but I will save this Big Sister – enemy or not, she does not deserve to die at the hands of Splicers. Inhaling deeply in preparation, he steels his resolve and nods inwardly at his self-appointed goal. He will save each and every person he is able to in this underwater Hell.
Clunking down the hall, he turns to the left and rushes toward the door leading into the supposed nest of Splicers. The door flies open, and he raises his rivet gun.
I will not fail again.