I really am glad you guys are enjoying this! Apologies for the delay (if this could be called one), for I have been very busy with Scream Fortress 6.

It's so... beautiful.

My favorite two new sets are the Rooftop Rebel Hunter set for Scout and the Templar set for Medic. Of course, Mundy on an ostrich never hurt. What's your favorite new sets and combinations? Also, how is the new cover? I'll be updating it to better match the story soon, but that was a test cover I made while toying with the cp_convoy_v2 map.

Act I Act I (Part 6)

A1A1P6

Fortress

Myrian: Speak to Misha

You are now Myrian Corbitz. About time, dumpkoff! You meant to speak to Misha a while ago, but you've been very caught up with paperwork. Physicals are coming up, and you dislike them as much as the others (Of course, you only dislike it for the papers you have to sign and file for everyone). When you finally went through the stack of papers, you picked up Fritz and brought her with you as you left the office. Tomorrow the Administrator is going to discuss bringing a Xenomorph alien to the team as a backup Scout, and you just can't wait for the injuries that will probably follow if it goes through.

As you walked down the hall, you passed by the Respawn room when Jane came out. He looked enraged, but he seemed to be doing the exercises you taught him to calm down. As you two walked, you heard him muttering "thirty three, thirty four, thirty five," under his breath. Good, you thought, he knows he went too far with Dell. He tuned to the right, to the rec room, as you continued forward. It doesn't take long before you begin trying to get in the mercs' heads when they're with you for long enough.

You pass by Tavish DeGroot on the way to Misha's room, and he gives you a polite nod. You return the gesture, and watch as he heads for the rec area as well. He seemed slightly more sober than usual, which is good. It's a miracle he doesn't have to go through Respawn twelve times a day with the amount of alcohol he consumes. Finally, you reach the wide, wood door of Misha Demetris. You knock quietly twice, as you hear a deep "Nyet. One second," from inside. You wait patiently for about one minute three seconds before he opens the door, slight splotches of grease on his off duty uniform. You assume he was repairing his Minigun's handle, it was extremely loose and old last you checked. "Ah, Myrian, come in," he moved, allowing you to enter the giant's room.

Misha's room was quite different from any of the other merc's room. For one, he got double the space for his and his weapon's size. It's also a bit cleaner than others, most things kept on shelves or in compartments. He had one picture by his bed of his home in Russia, and several Russian literary papers scattered about a desk. His doctorate in Russian Literature hung proudly on the wall opposite his bed. What stood out was his massive minigun propped on a stand, slightly disassembled with parts laying on the ground in order of assembly.

Misha moved some parts aside to make room for you to walk in as he sat down on his bed. "I've been waiting for you to come talk," he says, "I can tell you have something on mind." He really can read anybody like an open book. "Yes," you say, "I vas vundering if you knew anyzhing about zhese... 'ozzers' Dell speaks to." He pauses, deep in thought, as he shifts to the side to move his gun. "Yes, one is the reason why we have a rock powering base. Other one just seems like BLU Soldier but smarter."

You knew the second one. He always used incorrect terms, such as 'protein chute' or 'thinkpan.' But the first one to come up seemed to have much more advanced technology, and elements that couldn't possibly be on this planet. "Vell, Dell had me help him move zhis... mobile Respawn machine onto vun of his new Teleporters, und it vas made of very strange metal. He also never told me vhere it vas going or vhy," you explained. You could say Dell acts 'strange' when he makes something new, but usually because he has a fear somebody would break it or steal it to store bread in. However nothing he makes lately either A) seems breakable, like it's some indestructible material, or B) is around long before it disappears. He seems to be making a lot of machines that he either gets rid of the following day or teleports to some unknown location.

Heavy nods. "Da, I know of this," he says. "Dell and other man work together to make new machines for us and other man's comrades." You nod your head slightly as you pick up a paper by random. He's been meaning to teach you Russian, as you've been meaning to teach him German. It reminded you of the multitudes of languages you learned Dell knew. It made sense that he spoke Spanish, considering he was from Texas, but he was also fluent in Deutsch, French, Portuguese, and even knew a little Mandarin.

You're getting off track a bit, Corbitz. You turn back to Misha and sit in his desk chair. It was made of wood inside, and covered in bear fur for cushioning and warmth. No doubt home-made. "Do you zhink you have any idea who zhey might be?" you asked him, already sinking into the fur. The shaved bear shrugs, chuckling a bit. "Maybe, but you would not like answer."

You sigh. You know he's going to suggest there are extraterrestrials, but you are a large skeptic on the idea. You need hard proof to believe something. You got hard proof last Halloween when RED and BLU used spells to consistently send the corpses of Redmond and Blutartch Mann to Hell, despite them strangely coming back in a box on a Payload cart frame with "SEND TO HELL" on the side. You've seen Demoman's eye come back to life and attack you all with mini eyeball rockets. You've seen Silas Mann haunt the Mann Manor as a headless horsemann (minus the horse).

But you will not just accept that there is intelligent life elsewhere in the universe without proof. The chance of planets that could possibly sustain life? Yes, it's high, but the chance of there also being intelligent life on the few habitable planets with such advanced technology is low. You want evidence.

But Misha already begins to get up, moving towards his closet. "Do you remember when I painted Sasha in Australium?" he asked. You nodded your head, remembering when that happened. There was a massive discovery of Australium, and Saxton Hale got the idea to sell some of it to you mercs as a building tool. You used the opportunity to recreate your Medigun and Blutsauger gun out of the Australium. "Well, I removed the Australium after Dell gave me some of his new metal." He opens the door, reaching in to the closet. Your mouth drops as he pulls out spare parts to his minigun, except entirely made of a dimly glowing, dark red substance. "This," he says, setting the parts down, "is Alternium." He hands you a large piece of the main frame with the trigger and basic barrel system installed. It was... surprisingly light, as if it was made of cardboard. So light, you fall back from jerking up lifting it. You yell in surprise as Misha is already behind you, a massive safety bear net. "Zhis is... zhis is liter zhan carbon fiber," you exclaim, "but how?"

Misha helps you up with one effortless pull, you still holding the stripped red minigun. "Dell says that the metal is not from Earth. Is indeed alien element," he explains. You want to argue. You want to tell him how it's probably some undiscovered material that someone came across.

But you couldn't. Not only was it self illuminating a faint red glow, but it was light as a feather. It defied almost every element from the glowing alone, the fact that a minigun made out of it is still lighter than a textbook was insanely unlikely, even if you were looking at the proof. "Nein, zhere is not enough evidence for me," you exclaim, "but it is very strange. Vhatever zhese two strangers are, alien or not, they are making Dell jumpier, I don't like it." Misha let out his signature grunt before putting the Alternium minigun parts back in the closet. "Is only a phase," he says, "Dell will be fine. Leetle Myrian worries too much about comrades."

A loud scream outside made you jump, but Misha merely laughed. "I forgot, Jane and Travis have bench press contest tonight," he said as Travis's cry of pain rung down the halls. "Someone must have overshot."

"Acht, I vill probably have to tend to zhe boy," you mutter. It's true, considering Travis is prone to putting himself in dangerous situations around the clock, on and off the battlefield. Heavy nods before he gets up to open the door for you again, but you hold a hand up. He was on the other end of the room, while you were right next to the door. "Misha, do not vorry, I can open it." You chuckle as you open the door. "You are doing a good job," you say in afterthought.

As the door closed, you listened to the sounds of yells down the hall. What did that damn Scout do to himself this time?!

Myrian: Be the Spy

You are now the Spy. Also known as Jean-Paul, François, RED Spy, Vincent, Francis, FBI Most Wanted #23, and, personally, quite the handsome rogue. This was the benefit of being a double agent. You could be anybody, or nobody! Or you can be literally nobody with your invisibility watch. Just a cloaked form in a corner, or dark shadow, or just behind a Dispenser. It was a pleasure to think about the little things of your job. As the Spy your job was pure stealth. Sneak behind the enemies, trick them into falling for your clever disguises, and taking them out one by one with a quick stab into their precious spines. And when you aren't doing that, you're watching them. Learning about them. You know with almost no doubt the girl that is the BLU Scout has been interested in Travis for a long time, and although friendships and relationships are forbidden by the Administrator, Helen, off-field relationships happen all the time. You know in time she'll corner him in a battle and their imaginations will fly. It's amazing what female and male mercs do sometimes in hidden spots. The strangest non-sexual thing so far, however, was Misha teaching Myrian Russian in the rafters of your team's fort, hidden away by random stacks of hay stored up there. It's amazing a man that size could hide so well. It's also amazing that THAT was your best example. You just don't have enough interest to spy into others' love lives. You're sure a lot can happen between the mercs. Again, you just don't care, even if it's your job to snoop.

Rather than sit in a stuffy base with eight drunk or idiotic mercs, you stayed outside to watch the stars. Almost every single light in the base was either off or deeper inside, so all of the twinkling dots in the sky exploded with color and light once you had stepped outside. You pulled your Disguise Case out and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it with your cubed mobile fire device. A spark inside made the small flame come alive on the nozzle of the box. You took a deep breath as the smoke traveled into your lungs, the stress of your hellish job fading away.

Aside from smoking, your interests are kept to a minimum. You watch very few movies, don't interact a lot with others, and your identity is kept under wraps. But you're you, you really don't care if someone knows your name. You've been running and hiding for years, you feel like the woman from Alien and the alien itself.

Ok, maybe there are a few movies you enjoy. Mostly the ones where it's several helpless people put against an enemy that's always one step ahead and always in the shadows. These are usually your favorite because, well, you relate to them! A trained assassin that has to deal with the largest group of idiots with either one smart or one lucky hero that makes it out alive. Sometimes you wish you can talk to the bad guy and say "kill them first."

You take a glance at your Wall to make sure you didn't reference too much. This is the Fourth Wall. You feel it's your job to keep it working properly. It warns when someone is about to break it. Its meter rose to a low yellow from your thoughts the paragraph before, but lowered back to a green thumbs up. Good. Always keep track of things, you always say.

Someone seems to be pestering you on Engineer's messenger. You finish your miniature cornish game hen before calmly sitting down on your chair.

[assistant] has started pestering [UNKNOWN]

Ah. Ms. Pauling. Rather than having Helen sending the team self-destructing messages, her assistant Pauling merely tells you here.

[] Spy.

| Yes?

[] Good, you're there. I'm sure you know of the 10th addition your team will have shortly.

| The alien? Yes, I am aware.

[] Well, it passes all of its physical and mental tests, starting tomorrow morning he should arrive as Scout's backup.

| Excellent. The boy needs something to keep himself out of Respawn. Unless he and the BLU Scout are possibly able to sneak off field more often.

[] You know relationships are prohibited, Spy.

| And yet, we have everyone together with someone except the blabbermouth.

[] I'm surprised Helen barely looks into intimate relationships, especially the relationship between Tavish and Jane when he was still a BLU.

| Luck of the draw, perhaps?

[] Who knows with her.

| Touché.

[] Just promise me you won't tell anyone about the alien until we are 100% sure we are bringing him in.

| Do not worry.

[] Francois. I mean it.

You froze. She's serious if she uses your name.

| I promise on my wife's grave.

[] I hope you mean it.

[assistant] has stopped pestering [UNKNOWN]

You are indeed François Lawrence. Out of all your aliases your real name does indeed just 'happen' to be your favorite. Your wife also just 'happens' to be the mother of the BLU Scout. She didn't take it too well at first but accepts it now. It's the longest standing relationship at the base.

Oh dear, is it already 3 in the morning? Time really passes by when you're being stealthy. You stretch as you remove your balaclava. You've been starting to have more gray hairs every time you look, but it's still important to keep your hair looking nice, even under the mask. Removing your outerwear, you checked your door lock and relieved yourself before heading to sleep.

You'd need to be alert for this new alien.

~~END OF ACT I ACT I~~

ACT I ACT II

Travis: React childishly and poorly

François: Dig into Myrian's files about new mercenary

François: Be someone else