Flashback complete, returning to Anno Domini 2015. Second Millennium.
"Oh my God dude, that was so beautiful," Damien dramatically wiped a nonexistence tear from his eyes, lips quivering to the very audible groaning of the four girls. "I'm so glad she finally got a happy ending."
"Yeah! Suck it Ken Levine!" Henry joined in, corna pumping in the air.
"And so the two brave little lambs found a new home and they lived happily ever after," Tangmo did his best at imitating Julie Andrew before returning to his normal voice. "Something went very wrong, didn't it."
"No." The Master said. "Something is about to go very wrong. There's a big difference."
"Well that us make feel a lot better." Only an idiot, or captain Carrot, would've missed Erik less that subtle sarcasm.
"So what happened?" Lita inquired. "Or rather, what is about to happen?"
"Observe." The Master waved his hand over the round table, the center opening to reveal a curved spotless lens that began projecting a high resolution hologram of earth. In dazzling 4k and 60 frame rate per second too.
"This is the Bioshock universe during the best of time," the Master pointed to the hovering globe. "Well, the one that Elizabeth and Eleanor now lives on that is."
"Seems pretty normal." Yuki commented, noting the pristine condition of the rotating sphere.
"Ahem, best of time?" Hands weaving over the empty air, the Master zoomed onto a single point on the high-definition globe, the geography folding out to show an isometric view of a quaint seaside East Coast town, Mercy Falls obviously, and the surrounding country side. More movement of the hands and the computer generate imagery shifted to a side view, like that of a side-scrolling video game, the landmass taking centerfold between the rippling sea at the bottom and rolling sky at the top. The Master snapped his finger and red mist materialized among the non-terrestrial mass, tiny bloodshot dots in swarming multitude pulsing, churning and growing. It took Tangmo a moment to see that the swarm seems to be gravitating toward the town.
"This is the current status of the Bioshock universe, a year after Elizabeth was resurrected."
"Well that look dreadful." Laura spoke.
"What hell are those red thingy?" Nikki added.
With a swipe of hands the hologram showed two wound like laceration where the mist poured out like blood.
"It's Rapture and Columbia." Predictably, the announcement was met with confusion and disbelief.
"Rapture is dead, or at the very least in its terminal stage," Henry spoke through the din of clashing theory and possibility, "and Columbia, along with all of its variation, no longer exists."
"That was what I thought," the Master shook his head. "Everything should have been over at this point, Rapture crumbling to the depth of the Atlantic and Columbia fazing from existence. But it didn't." He sighed, feature darkening visibly. "So this was the anomaly the Lutece been hinting about."
"How is that even possible?" Lita raised a hand.
"Could Columbia actually survive the pan-dimension purge?" Erik added.
"There are infinite numbers of Columbia right? Could…I don't know, little surviving fragments of those universes somehow manages to recombine with each other? The odds of something surviving in the dark void exist, for every ten variation destroy in totality maybe a speck of one survived. And these singular ones might somehow manage to latch on to each other to make themselves whole again?" Nikki voice trailed off into a nervous stammer once she realized all eyes in the room were trained on her. She hated when that happen, especially when she's spitballing. "Look, I'm just throwing this out there okay? Just an idea, nothing more"
"That's actually the best theory we have going right now, nice one love." Laura gave her a reassuring tap on the shoulder, even the Master looked impressed. "Still doesn't explain Rapture's sudden resurgence though."
"Sofia got loose didn't she?" Yuki hazarded a guess, turning directly to the Master.
"I wouldn't know, I'm not the one checking up on her wellbeing," he raised his hands apologetically. "That's Brigid's job."
"Yeah, but we kinda established that Rapture was dying? How could it amassed this much disturbance?" Laura spoke up.
Yuki just shrugged. "I haven't thought that far yet."
"Maybe she stumble on a Tear and decided to ask for help?"
"Pretty much what I was thinking."
"None of it matters now," Tangmo's voice cut through Yuki and Laura banter as he strikes a rather impressive Gendo pose, the only thing missing was an intimidating pair of glass. "The how and why can be discuss once the roaring of guns and the shriek of the dying fell silent. All I want to know now is how do we stop it."
"Tangmo's right." The Master announced. "We can figure all of this when the breach is close."
"A little too dramatic don't you think?" Henry turned to Tangmo who had disengaged his pose and was slouching back into his chair.
"Hey man, that's how I roll," he said proudly. "How did I do though?"
Henry gave a few contemplating nods, right hand rolling in sync. "Yeah…I'll admit it sounded grimly cool. Needed the hat though."
"You're still not Shakespeare." Yuki quipped.
"Not trying to be," Tangmo smirked before turning back to the Master. "So how the hell do we fix this?"
"Before any repair can be done, we need to make sure that Elizabeth and Eleanor are relocated to a secure location," now it was the Master turn to do the Gendo pose. "As you can see from the display, whatever is coming of the breach is gravitating toward them."
"This pretty much reinforces the theory that whoever is creating and directing these breaches are familiar with both the Bioshock lambs." Yuki added.
"However, the breach is not the only problem we are facing." The Master sighed, brow furrowing as he massaged his temples.
"That's never a good sign." Erik commented.
"No it isn't." The Master began, hard eyes sweeping over the Eight, hammering the severity of the situation home.
"Thanks to the impeccable writing of Bioshock Infinite and its DLCs, the whole infinite quantum reality thing had inadvertently made this particular universe more susceptible to possible infection from foreign organism not native to their own reality." He took a deep breath before continuing. "To make matter worse, the constant usage of Tear by Elizabeth and the Lutece had severely weakened the shield that preserved the universe singularity. The barrier around the Bioshock universe has deteriorated to the point where essences from other realities are leaking through, creating Tears for things that most definitely doesn't belong."
"So how bad are things looking?" Erik interrupted. "Should we be expecting zombies and Cazador running around trying to kill Elizabeth and Eleanor?"
"It's not that bad yet, I caught the breach early on," finally some good news. "But if Elizabeth did found a Tear of such nature then she can pulled them into the Bioshock universe. Pray to the gods that she have enough commonsense not to open strange Tears."
"Hey! Things aren't looking so bad after all!" The unchanging granite visage of the Master says otherwise, deflating Erik's bubbly optimism before it could even take shape. "Oh shit that wasn't the bad part was it?"
Nodding with no small amount of condescension, the Master continues. "The barrier between each reality is like a door, the thing swing both ways. Sooner or later, something else beyond the void will take notice. And like locusts they will descend upon the Bioshock universe and reaps it to the bones."
"Hey come on now, those Plasmids and Vigor pack quite a punch though," Damien ventured. "It's not like the Bioshock universe is defenseless, quite the opposite in fact, I'm sure they can hold their own."
The Master looked caught between laughter and abject disbelief, face contorting like clay trying to convey both emotes at the same time. Tangmo facepalm and shook his head. He knew how much Damien and Henry adored, to put it lightly, the Bioshock franchise but goddamn to suggest that it could hold a candle against anything beyond the comfort of their own reality was downright stupid. At least Henry didn't embarrassed himself, keeping his mouth shut and gingerly sinking into his seat.
"Would you kindly stopping being a fanboy?" The Master rolled his eyes exasperatedly and Damien just glared and grumbled in his seat like a child put in a time out with a big dunce cone on his head.
"Now, as I was saying," the Master feature darkened with a low inclination of his head, casting a dramatic shadow over his stony face. "Imagine something as powerful and addictive as ADAM slipping into other unsuspecting universe. Forget the genre, fantasy, sci-fi, noir, realistic, classical, it doesn't matter. This genetic equivalent of a coked up steroid wouldn't just irrevocably alter the canon but also brought about the same misery and madness that destroyed Rapture."
He chuckled lowly.
"The damn thing could even rival the Arrakis Spice trade and black market Neuropozyne in terms of demands and epidemic. And that was the best case scenario by the way. Now imagine if someone, say…a couple of megalomaniac dark lords, happens to catch wind of an out worldly elixir that could potentially increase the battle capability of their army. All they had to do was to swing open The Door of Night to find the static lighthouse, shinning with beckoning glee to weapons that will end worlds."
Repulsive, crushing silence reigned for a few minutes before the Master continues: "Not to mention that if whoever is leading the resurrected Rapture and Columbia, Sofia and Comstock in all likelihood, decide to get ambitious and venture into other reality, they could raise all kinds of hell before we can contain the situation."
"All right, we get it. Massive amount of bad shit is about to happen." Henry held his hands in surrender, the point driven home, deep.
But the Master wasn't finished, turning to regard the American with a sharp vicious look, like those of a wolf about to pounce its prey.
"And you know what else could happen?" The overly innocence tone was more horrifying than the howling of Banshees. "The Lutece Twin meeting the Changer of Ways." The room exploded in spluttering panic, the Eight trading each other visage of dreaded disbelief, knowing what kind of Armageddon such abominable convergence could unleashed.
"And we're all sitting here wasting our time listening to you instead of going out there and killing the twins." Yuki proclaimed, suddenly finding herself tired of the boogeyman threat and scares. The other nodding in agreement.
"Point us the way and we'll get it done." Tangmo backed her up.
"I just found it prudent to remind you the severity of the entire situation," the Master shrugged snidely. "The last time something of this magnitude happened your predecessor sure as hell didn't."
"Do we look like we don't give a fuck?!" Damien blurted, offended by the suggestion. "In case you haven't noticed dude, we get shit done, we ALWAYS get shits done. And now that it's clear Elizabeth is in the centerfold of all this…"
"And Eleanor too, don't forget Eleanor." Erik piped up.
"Fine! Eleanor too." Damien hated it when someone interrupted him. "Now where was I? Oh yeah! Now that Elizabeth and Eleanor is the centerfold of this unraveling calamity, all of our collective fucks have been diverted to this most important mission." He sprung from his seat suddenly, chest puffing. "No matter what happens, through fire and flames, we will rescue the lambs of Bioshock, or give our very lives in the process. So can we please stopping wasting time and get this shit started?!"
Tangmo, Henry and Erik voiced their support enthusiastically, leaping from their seats, fists slamming into the table to reaffirm their dedication, the hologram stuttering from the impact. The girls were calmer in their reaction, to say the least, half-hearted shrugs and nods abound.
"All right good, I know I could count on all of you," the Master looked please, cracking a modest smile. "I just need to get you all pumped up, you know? All psyched up and ready to kickass, take names, all that jazz."
"You know you can just say Elizabeth and Eleanor were in trouble right?" Tangmo said. "That's motivation enough for us."
"Yeah, but the scare tactic was for them." He nodded to the girls who looked about as thrill as a mother forced to endure 'Let it Go' for the billionth freaking time.
"Meh, it's a job. We'll get it done regardless." Yuki yawned, long and lazy, leaning on the table sleepily.
"Your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated." There was a sound of rough, dry scrape followed by a fiery ignition. The Eight turned toward the Master who had lit up two matches and was striding around the table toward them, the light flickering in his right hand. He watched the matches burn for a few seconds before blowing them out, leaving only the blacken tip trailing wisps of smoke. Sliding open the matchbox with his free hand, the Master took out six more matches and placed them next to its burnt brethren. Tossing the box back onto the table, he flipped all the matches upside down, rolled them around in his palm a few times before clenching his fist so that only the clean wooden butt stood up.
"There a little detail I missed out earlier," he began as the Eight came to stand before him, making a loose crescent around his out stretched fist. "This laceration of reality in the Bioshock universe is somehow hampering my usual ability to interact with…things. This means that for the time being, I can only teleport two of you directly to the outskirt of Mercy Fall, while the rest will enter the Bioshock universe via the designated entry point, which is the Rapture lighthouse."
"And now we draw matches to decide the two lucky winners who are going to be picking up Elizabeth and Eleanor." Lita confirmed the given directive, to which the Master nodded.
"I volunteer as tribute!" Damien shouted, hands waving desperately in the air.
The Master gave his request a moment of thought before saying, "nah! It's more fun this way."
"Oh come on man!"
"Tangmo, Yuki, you two go first."
"Ladies first." Tangmo waved Yuki over, who flashed him a smile and strode forward.
"Thanks." She said before randomly snatching a match from the bundle. Predictably, she drew a red unlit match and her reaction couldn't have been more apathetic.
"Oh well," she shrugged absentmindedly then tucked the match into the blazer of her school uniform, knowing that it could become useful later. "Your turn."
Taking a deep breath Tangmo stepped forward, the remaining seven matches sticking out like tiny row of protruding skeleton before him. Clasping his open palm together in the trademark Thai gesture known as wai, he began praying.
"Namo Tassa, Namo Tassa, Namo Tassa!" The Sanskrit incantation rose in cadence and fervor with each passing breathless second, only the impatient tapping of the Master's feet breaking the mantra.
"Why are you even praying? You're an atheist!" Henry was the first to lose his calm when Tangmo continuous muttering went passed the two minutes mark.
"I'm agnostic, there's a difference!" He snapped before going back to his prayer.
"Just pick the goddamn match you dickhead!" Damien shouted, looking about ready to tackle the Asian.
"Shut the fuck up!" Tangmo reached out toward the bundle of matches with a roar, closed his thumb and forefinger around the unblemished strand of wood and pull dramatically like he was in a Wuxia or Chanbara movie.
The match in his finger was scorched black.
Tangmo threw his arms in the air, bellowing an explosive victorious scream, jumping up and down while brandishing his prize in the face of his male comrades. Erik tried to respond, but found his linguistic and motor skill malfunctioning, overwhelming disbelief glitching him into an incomprehensible splutter. Damien and Henry howled injustice, pointing and cursing at the flustered Tangmo with burning, jealous hatred that could set the atmosphere on fire while Laura, Nikki and Lita wallowed in their misery, mocking laughter washing away the wailing defeat.
Calming down and panting heavily, Tangmo flicked the burnt match on to the table and gave Yuki raised, waiting hand a smacking high five.
"Yeah! That's what's up! Woo!" Tangmo couldn't stay still, pacing back and forth with an occasional satisfying fist pump to break the monotony.
"Okay settle down." The Master interjected. "Nikki, Erik, your turn."
Both drew red matches, the disappointment varied between the sexes.
"Aw, I didn't get to meet Eleanor and Elizabeth." Nikki gave an exaggerated whine and placed the match on her ear.
"All Father! Why have you abandon me in my greatest moment of need? Why?! Have I not been faithful? Have I not been loyal? Have I not spilled blood in your name? Answer me!" Erik shook his fist in anger at the heaven.
Henry and Lita went next, both drawing disappointment.
"Argh! Goddamn it!" Henry groaned then approached Tangmo with a disappointed smile, his hand raised and arching over his shoulder. Grinning, Tangmo mimicked his move before their hands came down in a thunderous clasp, shaking with firm camaraderie.
"Good luck man." they bump shoulders. "Give those fuckers hell."
"Will do." Tangmo nodded before breaking off the handshake.
"Okay last two. Damien, Laura you're up." The Master gestured both of them over, the English/Scottish hybrid looking abhorrently disinterested while the Canadian seems wrecked with barely contained nervousness.
"Let's get the bloody thing over with then." Laura snatched one of the last two matches from the Master grip. None moved or breathe, unblinking gaze drawn toward the piece of wood hanging between her fingers. The tip was charcoal black, flaking off specks of soot into the still air, drifting like snow.
"No!" The raw anguish in Damien wail was enough to put the Darth Vader to shame. He collapsed to his knee as if struck with a fatal blow and fell with a thud on his side, eyes distant and unfocused.
Then he began singing:
"Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again."
"Oh get a grip you sodding wimp!" Disgusted, Laura strode over to his rocking, fetal form and gave him a hard kick to the buttocks. Yelping like an injured dog, Damien stopped singing Simon and Garfunkel's classic and leapt to his feet, limping and rubbing his injured posterior.
"You lucky bastard," he stared longingly at the burnt match before snapping toward Laura, more than a tad scornful. "That's not fair! You didn't even want to go!"
"That's what you get for quoting Hungers Game!" Nikki laughed. "God those movies sucked!"
"It's not fair!" Damien huffed childishly, giving the ground a good stomp.
"Grow up ya pansy cunt." Laura's Scottish accent was surfacing now, annoyance tend to lure it out. "You'll meet your precious wee lamb when we're done with her."
"Now that we got that out of the way." The Master waved his hand at the empty pristine wall and summoned two heavy looking black wood doors. "Erik, Henry, Yuki, Nikki, Damien, Lita, you six head down to the wharf and help prepare my ship for the mission." The moan was the first instance of unity today, the Master promptly ignored the complaint. "Tangmo, Laura, go suit up. It's the 70s, so pick the appropriate weapons and clothes for the time period."
"Yeah about that." Tangmo raised his hand to interrupt.
"What is it Tangmo?" The Master inquired expectantly, knowing the boy wasn't one to usually voiced objection, but if he does there was always a semi-good reason.
"You and I both know what's at stake here." Tangmo continued.
"Indeed." The Master nodded.
"And given the importance that hinges upon the success and failure of this mission, I don't feel comfortable going up against an army drugged out psychopath and brainwashed zealot with only some backward ass weapons from the 70s as my only reassurance."
"You want me to grant full access to the armory for this mission," the Master quickly caught on to what Tangmo was asking, eyes narrowing dangerously. "After everything I told you about how unstable the Bioshock universe was?"
"The near constant state of shifting and conflicting canon seem to be the norm of that universe. One moment something is dead, the next its alive. Lies became truth and truth became lies. Reality and all of its variations in constant flux that joins, break apart or merged into something new at a whim. The Bioshock universe is already frayed to bloody strips, so why not exploit that wound?"
"It could make things worse."
"Not beyond the degree that you've already describe. Foreign essences are already leaking into that universe, and this gives us a rare opportunity to throw everything we have against Rapture and Columbia."
The Master stroked his bread, seconds stretched to minutes as his hard eyes became lost in introspection.
"Do it." he uttered simply in answer, his guarded look became lessening as he slowly came to accept the idea. "Your request is granted, take whatever you need to ensure that Elizabeth and Eleanor are protected."
"And this goes for everyone?" Henry ventured, looking hopeful.
"Yes. Weapon rights granted to all of you."
Tangmo almost fell over from all the friendly slaps smacking his back. After the torrents of thank you and whooping cheers that left him momentarily deaf, the six unlucky ship crews bounded with new found enthusiasm toward the door leading to the wharf. The menial sailorman task suddenly didn't seemed so bad now.
"Nice going." Laura gave him gentle tap on the shoulder.
"I try my best," Tangmo smiled smugly as he opened the door to the armory and held it open for Laura. "After you."
"Thank you kind sir." She gave a dainty curtsey before stepping through the threshold, Tangmo close at her heel.
Like the conference room, the armory was an empty white space that stretched into infinity. The floor, horizon and ceiling merging into one uninterrupted stale background. Instead of a round conference table however, there were two rather ordinary looking double door lockers standing side by side directly before them.
The scene bore striking reminiscent to that one scene from the Matrix where Neo and Trinity, on their way to rescue Morpheus from Agent Smith, stopped by a virtual stock room where rows of guns zoomed pass them. The difference here was that these two lockers didn't stretched from horizon to horizon in ad infinitum, nor was it over flowing with racks and row of weapons.
This was what the Master called a smart room.
A room that react and caters to the occupant by materializing what those individuals needed once they enter, favoring bare pragmatism over frivolity. For example, as Tangmo and Laura neared the lockers a long bench that most definitely wasn't there before sprung into existence because the room knows that the both of them needed a place to sit when they're lacing up their boots.
Standing before the locker, Tangmo and Laura began stripping down to their undergarments, both taking long, admiring glance at each other. There was nothing the both of them haven't seen before.
"You're looking good." Tangmo can't help but admired Laura lean and powerful form, beautifully sculpted with the perfect balance of muscle and lithe femininity. An imposing physique both dangerous and alluring. It was with great effort that he pried his eyes away.
"You think so?" Laura asked, spinning on her toes and swaying her hips ever so slightly, unashamed of her body. "Some of my friends are saying I'm putting on some weight."
"They happened to be blind by any chance?"
Laura laugh was warm and summery. "I'll never get tired of your charming side. But honestly though, you don't I'm gaining weight?"
"Absolutely not."
"Thanks…you're looking pretty fit yourself."
"Eating right and exercising, you know the simple stuff." Although he wasn't as big and broad as Henry and Damien, Tangmo still maintain a strong athletic build, corded muscle rippled and knotted his tall frame. And to think that only a year ago he was just a skinny, shy bespectacled boy who can't even run a hundred meter dash without collapsing into a heap of sweat.
Throwing open the doors, Tangmo beheld the impossibly large interior within the inconspicuous locker. Weapons, armors, gears and gadgets from a hundred realities, both of science fiction and fantasy origin, sat and stood on labeled racks, displays and mounts, connected by interlocking webs of long mechanical arms that held the objects in correct rows and sections.
Who would have thought Doraemon fourth dimension pocket could prove to be of any use in their line of work?
As he reached inside, the various stands and platforms began moving to the sound of sharp mechanical hisses. One of the arms spun and danced around other metal limbs with calculated synchronization, the object on the surface remain undisturbed despite the tumbling movement and lack of any holsters before coming to rest in front of Tangmo. Picking up the black shirt and legging held in place by a faint tractor beam, Tangmo began making himself more decent.
"Decision, decision." Tangmo thought for a moment before waving an item over, the machine whined and produced a silver glittering vest encased in a crystal glass display. Mithril, the Durin kind not the Karak variant, the original and the best. Carefully tilting back the case, Tangmo took the weightless chainmail off the cold platform and slid it on his torso, covering his chests, abdomen and biceps in shining impenetrable stars, he laced them up nice and tight.
Secondary armor done, the long arms retracted and returned to its row, Tangmo gave some thought on his primary armor. What would be the appropriate response to the array of weaponry, both conventional and genetic, that Rapture and Columbia has to bear against him? With an evil grin, he waved forward a man size crucifix. Draped across it arms was the midnight black, silver trimmed carapace armor, Cadia pattern, worn by the legendary Kasrkin Tempestus Scions, or Storm Troopers in normal English, the greatest foot soldiers of the Imperium of Man, second only to the mighty Adeptus Astartes.
Tangmo almost shed tear at its beauty
Layered in ceramites, armaplas, plasteel and adamantium, nothing in the Bioshock arsenal can even hope make a dent on such an awesome and venerated armor.
Blessed the 40k universe for going overboard on everything.
He gave it one last loving look before taking each individual pieces of armor and fastening them on to his body. The arms, legs, greaves and pauldrons were easy enough to put on, but the main body armor was proving to be quite a challenge. The various straps and laces eluded his grasping hands, and those that he managed to tie weren't enough to hold the armor in place, dangling loose with every minute movement.
"Laura can you help me out here?" Tangmo called for aid.
"Hang on just a minute." A grunt and metallic clang answered him, followed by a slew of Scottish tinged curses that ended in a sigh. "You know what? I need your help too, just a sec."
Stepping away from the locker, Laura approached and gave him the same look of surprise that he now wore.
"Well, this is rather serendipitous." Tangmo could only nodded in agreement.
"Great minds think alike."
It appeared that the both of them seemed to have a similar, no, identical choice of attire for this mission. Laura was clad in an Adeptus Sororitas, more commonly known as the Sisters of Battle, pattern power armor, painted black to suit the Ordo Hereticus office. Unlike the hulking power armor of the Space Marine, the Sisters armor exuded and glorified the female form, unabashed in its display of womanly hips, waists and breasts. Although the armor might appear sultry and distracting, it provided greater protection than his carapace armor while also enhancing the physical capability of its wearer.
"I forget how bloody difficult it was to put this damn thing on." Laura complained before turning around to let Tangmo secure the leathers straps and metal lock on her back.
"Hold your hair up," She held them up as Tangmo got to work. "Yeah me too, I usually have one of my troopers to help when I absolutely needed to wear it."
"Surprise you survived this long with just the coat."
"Never doubt the awesomeness of the commissariat coat."
"You're gonna where it, aren't you?" She gave him a sly grin. "Dashing and heroic for Elizabeth and Eleanor?"
"Duh!" Tangmo exclaimed proudly as he finished up the last detail on Laura battle corset before waving over the long black coat decorated with scars of las-bolt, bolt rounds and shrapnel. Uneven shades of black bloomed in patches where repairs had been made. And the hat too. A commissar uniform isn't complete without the awesome hat.
"Your turn." Tangmo spun around as Laura went over the straps and belts of his carapace, feeling the armor tightening over his body with every strong tug.
"You think all of this is enough?" Laura asked after pulling another strap into place, hard.
"I say we're overdressed," Tangmo answered. "I mean, shit, we're going up against outdated and scavenged weapon with top of the line of gears forty thousand years beyond their time. All things considered getting kill wearing these would be outright disgraceful."
"Better to be excessive than to be sorry, that's what I always say." Laura spun him around to give the finished work an admiring look.
"The words we all live by." Tangmo concurred and reached for his commissar coat and hat, putting them on with no small amount of dramatic flair. After putting on the last pieces of attire, specifically a pair of fingerless gloves, a pair of socks and a pair of boots, Tangmo's eyes sparked with devilish gleam as his hungry gaze fell on the multitude of weapons arrayed before him. He could already hear their quivering beckons, toys begging to be played by their master like some demented version of Toy Story.
"Only the best for this trip." Tangmo flashed a toothy grin and waved over his first item. An AA-12 auto-shotgun, the black surface polished to a mirror shine. Placing the weapon on a long metallic table that had materialized with exceptional care, Tangmo went back to the locker, the machine inside whirred and whined as the second vital piece of hardware came to rest before him.
Voicing a silent prayer to the Immortal God Emperor and the Omnissiah, Tangmo reached inside the locker and retrieved his Bolt Pistol. Like his coat, it bore scars of a hundred battles. A nick there from a stray las-bolt, a trail of scorch marks from hungry tongues of fire, a dent in the grip where it had cracked open skulls, a testament to its celebrated career. And besides, what was the point of dressing up as an Imperial commissar if you're not going to carry their most iconic weapon?
"Once more into fray, eh my friend?" He placed the pistol down beside the AA-12 and Laura first pick of the day, a black and heavily modified FN SCAR. The rail extension, laser pointer and scope adding a slick, futuristic look to the assault rifle. But what stunned him most was her second pick. A bright red Flamer of the Sororitas pattern, golden skull and fleur-de-lis emblazoned on the hand guard and cylindrical promethium tank.
"Damn dude this is a rescue operation, not search and destroy." Tangmo eyed the inquisitorial weapon with a mixture of fear and awe.
"Yeah I know." Laura seemed surprised by his reaction.
"A fucking flamethrower seems a little…I don't know, excessive?"
"Says the guy bringing the Bolter."
"It's a Bolt Pistol and touché." Tangmo gave a sideway cock of his head before heading back to the locker and scrounged up as much ammo for the AA-12 and Bolt Pistol as he can carry, along with all the other necessary second tier items he needed. Things like combat knives, execution las-pistol, a couple of side arms, an extra pump action shotgun, grenades, etc.
You know, the things that made you feel safe and more properly dressed but never actually got to use?
The once empty table was now littered with various assortments of the universes finest death dealing tools, the chrome surface visibly creaking downward by the weight.
"That's a lot of shit." Laura commented with an impressive nod. "Webbings and packs?"
"Webbings and packs." Tangmo and Laura then retrieved the aforementioned items. Strapping on the black and grey camo webbing was easy enough, but the hard part was stuffing everything else in the large backpack.
That they needed to carry by the way.
"Umm…" Tangmo eyed the overflowing content on the table for a moment before carelessly stuffing them into the pack.
"Maybe this was a little bit much." He muttered after noticing how the pack was already beginning to bulge after just a few articles.
"Love, there is no such thing as too much," Laura craned her neck at him. "Besides, don't just stuff everything in, categorize for Christ sake, big one at the base and smaller ones on top."
In retrospect that was probably the reason why his pack looked eight months pregnant.
"Oh…damn I think you're right." Flipping the pack upside down, Tangmo emptied the content back on to the table in a cadence of loud bangs before restarting the process all over again. Correctly this time.
"Too enraptured with the prospect of meeting Eleanor and Elizabeth to concentrate?" Laura grinned.
Of course he was. "No!"
"Aww, you're so cute when you lie," her face went grim then, icy solemnity setting so suddenly that Tangmo was slightly taken a back. "Is this going to be a problem? Let me tell you now, I'm going to be pretty miffed if I get kill because you got distracted by those two tarts."
"Dude seriously? You know I don't get distracted on the job," he shot back at Laura. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Laura eyed him dirtily.
"Are you jealous of Elizabeth and Eleanor or something? Shit man."
"I'm not jealous you fooking arsehole," the Scottish accent surfaced again. "…Just not too overly fond of the two lasses. Well, more specifically one of them at least."
"And this is Elizabeth we're talking about aren't we?" Tangmo gave snobby knowing look. "Come on man, she's like one of the best video game character ever created, what the hell is there to hate?"
Laura snorted disgustedly. "No she's not, holy shit. I mean, all Elizabeth does is give you an item then ran away hiding. Couldn't she, I don't know, pick up a pistol and help once in a while when the AI decides to go horde mode on our arses? When I summon Eleanor in the second Bioshock game at least she gets shit done, like literary annihilating every single enemy in the area."
"You can't blame her for not being able to fight dude, that's not fair. She just a sacred and confused little girl fresh out of solitary confinement, you can't expect her to suddenly turn into Lara Croft. The original, not that reboot shit."
"Oh spare me. And you'd think that after the whole Columbia episode she would at the very least toughen the fuck up, but nope! When she finally had to get things done herself, she turned into a boring and powerless version of Corvo. And after all of that, she still manages to get her sorry arse captured and tortured all the bloody time. Oh, and I almost forget, she then proceed to get herself kill. Just like that! She just freaking gave up and let Atlas bashed her head in without even a smidgen of a fight."
"Yeah that was kinda strange, I blame bad writing though. But here's the thing, we've now went beyond the established canon, which basically means we can finally see what Elizabeth is truly capable of, free of questionable plots and cinematic devices. Who knows? Maybe she'll silence your naysaying."
"I'm not holding my breath."
The door to armory swung open then, bringing the debate to a pause. Lita causally stroll into the room, still clad in her sleeping t-shirt and shorts, but now with the addition of two large metal briefcases hanging from her arms.
"Am I interrupting?" The Eight resident Q smirked and hefted the heavy case on to the table.
"Not at all love." Laura said. "What's all this then?"
"Welp, since the Master pretty much green light everything we have in the arsenal, I thought I might give you an extra edge on this mission with all the things I've been cooking up in the workshop," Lita was positively perky as she opened the first case and withdrew a laptop size fleur-de-lis. "This one is for you Laura, hold still for a moment."
Laura went rigid as Lita walked around to her back and pressed the iron French lily into the slot where the hulking energy pack was supposed to be. There was a sequence of metallic clacks and clicks as the automated clamping mechanism locked the fleur-de-lis in place, followed by the low reverberating hum of the power armor. Laura then began flexing her arms and legs, finding the stiffness and weight that was a common feature of a Sororitas armor had all but gone.
"Bloody hell!" Laura exclaimed, jumping up and down with giddy glee, "it's like I'm wearing nothing! Don't start getting any idea mister!"
"Too late." Tangmo smirked.
"This is incredible, thank you so much!" Before Lita could react Laura had her wrapped up in a tight embrace, causing her to squirm and yelped painfully as the ceramites plates tightened around her.
"Argh! Let me go!" Lita squeaked, prompting Laura to release her with a sheepish grin.
"Oops, sorry love. Here, let me give you a hand…"
"No! I got this so just back away!" Lita held up a hand before giving herself quick stretches and bends, heaving a satisfying moan after a joint gave a loud bony pop.
"Phew, that's better," Lita rolled her shoulders a few more time before turning to address the beaming, apologetic looking Laura. "So I guess you like it then?"
"This is amazing Lita, I can't thank you enough," Laura then execute a flawless triple pirouettes, moving with lightless grace despite the apparent constricting armor. "How did you managed this?"
"Simple, I just replaced that archaic sub-atomic battery you Imperial loved to carry around with a travel size cold fusion cell, powered by a cleaner and more efficient energy of hydrogenizes crystal core. Smaller, prettier and with high energy output, hence you weightless limberness."
"Oh I could just give you a hug!"
"No thank you!" Lita scurried to hide behind Tangmo as Laura drew closer with her arm spread wide for another lethal cuddle. "Your gratitude is more than enough."
"Ahem, sorry to interrupt but we're on a pretty tight schedule so…what else you got?" Tangmo gave the hiding Lita a sideway look.
"Oh! I have something else both of you will definitely like." Springing back to her feet, Lita went back to the metal case and pulled out a magazine and a belt of segmented cable with a plug at the end, both glowing iridescent crimson.
"The same kind of power cell that's powering Laura armor. Miniaturized into a travel size magazine for a laspistol and a snuggly belt loader that feeds directly into the hellpistol." Lita announced proudly.
"This is amazing Lita," Tangmo nod appreciatively, and was that a blush on her face? "So what's the capacity on this thing? A couple of thousands shot?"
"The volume is not measured in shots, but hours. You can turn the las-shots to the highest setting and mowed everything down continuously and, if my calculation is correct, it would last for more than 200 hours before the cell runs dry."
"I'm going to have so much fun with this!" Laura was gleeful as she clasped the belt around her waist and connected the energy plug to her hellpistol, red purifying fire lighting up the weapon.
"Deadly and stylish." She announced with a soft, hypnotic sway of her shapely hips.
"You're drooling." Tangmo quickly swipe his mouth only to find it dry, Lita snickering as she went to the case and withdrew a black arm brace with a rectangular screen on top. The design reminding him of a more sleek and futuristic looking Pip Boy.
"Lastly we have your personal all-purpose device, included but not limited too are real time GPS map, motion scanner and health assessor." Taking the cylindrical device from Lita, Tangmo slid it on to his left forearm. The screen flickered to life with a nice soft blue neon glow, the word 'Stand by' blinking on the screen as the brace snuggled comfortably around his limb. A digitized jingle sounded as the display changed to show an infinity symbol that spun slowly like an orbiting star.
"It's touch and voice activated, give it a whirl." Lita folded her arms, looking ultra-smug.
"Map." Tangmo spoke and was greeted by a 'Not Available' flashing across the screen. Of course it wouldn't be available, they were in a pocket dimension between realities after all. A gentle tap brought back the infinity symbol. Tapping once more the rotating 8 winked away to be replaced by neat rows of apps like icon. He tapped the one with a heart symbol and the screen was filled with bright, animated images of his pulse, blood pressure, anxiety level, squiggly line of various neuron readings and other miscellaneous reading like sugar level and cholesterol. Everything looking good.
"Motion tracker." Laura's command was followed by the recognizable blipping sound from the Aliens movies.
"I like the sound and all but wouldn't this just attract the enemy? Founders and splicers aren't exactly deaf if I recalled." Laura didn't seemed too thrill.
"Just mute it then." Lita said.
"That easy? Okay then. Mute," the sound disappeared, Laura gave a satisfying nod. "Very nice. Then how do you turn off the screen like for the iPhone?"
"Just say 'lock'." They both did and the screen went mirror black after an audible clicking sound.
"Darling, you are absolutely wonderful as always," Lita grinned bashfully at Laura compliment, "so what else do you got?"
"That's about it actually," Lita closed the case. "If you need anything else this would be a good time to speak up."
"I think we're more than set for a simple escort mission," Laura finished packing her things, walked back to the locker and retrieved an inquisitorial coat and hat and a silver necklace carved into an exquisite Ammonoidea before slinging on her large pack.
"Actually I have one thing in mind," Tangmo finished packing, correctly this time, and swung the heavy load on to his shoulder. "Air support."
Lita brow irked with interest. "What do you have in mind?"
"Harassers, bombers, fighters, heavy supports and a supply barge for a prolong engagement," Tangmo listed his query. "Master did say everything is authorized."
"Yes he did. I'll have a chat with him after I'm all spruced up," Lita turned to a new locker that had popped up, reached inside and took out a laptop, which she proceed to stuff inside one of Tangmo's pack compartment. "Once you set the targets and mapped the area, you can transfer the command prompt to your wrist device."
"Will do," Tangmo gave his shoulders a few good roll to adjust the weight. "Thanks Lita."
"Just leave something for the rest of us okay?" Lita flashed him a divine smile.
"Can't make any promises." Tangmo was about to step off after Laura when Lita began to undress, his feet suddenly magnetized to the floor. Catching his gaze, Lita gave him an amorous wink before turning her back to him and lifted the shirt, teasingly slowly. Tangmo could see that she wasn't wearing any bra, and found himself frozen in unblinking anticipation as the shirt slowly peeled up to reveal the dark honey skin beneath. The shirt was a mere inch away from the underside of her breasts when an abhorrent, steely darkness swallowed his vision and began dragging him away.
"What the fuck?! No!" Tangmo howled and kicked wildly. "Let me go! No!"
"Better luck next time babe!" He heard Lita snorted after him as a door slammed open, the ceramites blackness unrelenting.
"Damn you Laura!" Tangmo screamed as Laura hauled him back into the light, the weight of the pack almost sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Just looking out for my gals." Laura's smirk dripped with sweet satisfaction.
"Oh yeah, I'm sure you gave Lita a good 'look' over."
"Okay that's enough." The Master voice halted the careening fist a hair length away from his left cheekbone.
"Saved by the bell." Tangmo's breath of relief turned into a sharp hiss when Laura opened palmed smacked him over the head before blowing him a raspberry.
"Are you two ready?" The Master continued, waving toward a dimensional door that seemed to retract and wavered at random, dangerous intervals. His face strained with effort to keep it stabilized. "The portal isn't holding up too well."
"Yeah, we're good," Tangmo and Laura traded nods. "Lita is going to brief you on the use of drones later by the way."
"I know, I'll text you later with my decision," the Master spoke hurriedly. "Now go!"
"Wait, where are you dropping us?" Laura inquired.
"My contacts are already there now go already!"
Weapons braced on their shoulder and aiming forward, Tangmo and Laura sprinted toward the Bioshock universe, the gateway winked soundlessly out of existence the moment they stepped over the threshold.
The overly pristine whiteness of the Master staging area abruptly gave way to towering pines and lush rolling grasses, sterile scent replaced by the sweet heady fragrance of unspoiled nature. Eyes trained down the iron sights, Tangmo crouched and tightened his grip on the AA-12 before sweeping the area in front of him in a wide semi-circle arch, breath slow and steady, finger coiled around the trigger. Behind him he could hear the click of the safety switch on the SCAR as Laura scanned the area behind him.
"Clear!" Tangmo announced after the third sweep, straightening back on his feet. Nothing here but birds and bees.
"Clear!" Laura echoed, also rising. "Nice weather isn't it?"
"Yeah." Lowering his AA-12 so that it hung lazily by a sling over his shoulder, Tangmo spun around slowly to appreciate the rustic surrounding, peaceful and idyllic, a serene overture before the coming symphony of war. "Nice and cool."
"Really? Its bloody steaming here." Laura gazed up to the bright cerulean sky above, fluffy cloud drifted lazily across the perfect blue canvas.
"From where I come from, we call this winter." Tangmo said, admiring the forest around him. Everything here seemed to have a strange sublime beauty to it, unbelievable in its picturesque perfection. Picking a leaf from a nearby branch, Tangmo held in before him, dazzled by the impressive chlorophyll green appendage, the color and detail more vivid than anything he had ever laid eyes upon.
Then it occurred to him.
This was a Bioshock game, of course the art direction was going to be phenomenal, no wonder everything looked so pretty. Like the begin of Infinite and Burial at Sea, the game allowed everybody to just walk around and enjoy the sight and sound before everything went to shit.
"You done ogling that leaf yet?" Laura tapped her feet impatiently, shifting her grip on the SCAR.
"Yeah, sorry," Tangmo flung it away. "Everything just looked so unreal you know? So beautifully Unreal."
"All looks, no substance. We're definitely in a Bioshock game."
Tangmo shot her an annoyed look. "Whatever. So what now?"
"Now you follow us." A new, yet familiar male British voice spoke. Tangmo and Laura spun around to see the prim and proper Lutece twin standing behind them, eyeing their Imperial attires with a fleeting hint of suspicious.
"Tha mi toilichte." Laura curtsy with an evil grin.
"Sawatdee khrup." Tangmo wai with a similarly wicked expression.
"And good morning to you both, good sir and madam." There was a ghostly hint of a smirk on Robert face, playing along with Tangmo and Laura unique style of greeting while Rosalind, not one to indulge in such childish behavior, merely observed them with an obvious shade of annoyance in those bright blue eyes.
"Charmed." Rosalind deadpanned before giving them both judgmental look. "I see we've expected too much of the Master contribution to this fast looming calamity."
"They appeared frighteningly well dressed for war though." Robert commented.
"Indeed they do. Although the mathematical improbability still stands."
"Remember dear sister that Booker DeWitt was only one man and he manages to take on Comstock followers and the Vox Populi singlehandedly."
"Yes, but Mr. DeWitt was a player of our choosing. I feel somewhat apprehensive now that the same courtesy of control no longer lies with us."
"Dude, she's scared." Tangmo chuckled suddenly, Rosalind spun sharply to face him with a narrowing glare.
"I beg your pardon young man?" There was an undeniable ominous tone to Rosalind voice, like a sharp rasp of unsheathing sword.
"Hey! Fear is totally a legitimate human emotion dude, no need to be ashamed." Tangmo raise his hand innocently.
"Frightened by little us?" Laura smirked. "I'm touched, truly."
"I believe that the message we were trying to convey," Robert butted in before Rosalind could shot back a retort, "is that as scientist it is in our nature to be very weary of the unknown variable that could affect our scenario for the better…"
"Or worst." Rosalind added snappily.
"Indeed." Robert shot a quick look at Rosalind. "So you must understand our apprehension."
"Totally man, we get you." Tangmo said.
"Oh? Do you now?" Rosalind sounded almost mocking.
"Let's just say we have our fair share of wildcard popping up and screwing with our best laid plans," Tangmo cast a knowing looking at Laura. "But lucky you, we are only here to help Elizabeth and Eleanor. No ulterior motive or nothing."
"I find his bluntness somewhat reassuring dear sister." Robert piped up.
"Barely dear brother." Rosalind was unconvinced.
Tangmo simply shrugged. "Well, we'll let our action do the talking then. For after all, victory needs no explanation."
"While defeat allows none." Laura finished the Imperial mantra for him.
"A bold declaration. But we will see soon enough whether such phrase hold any true authenticity." Rosalind continued with a little sass.
"Take solace that when all of this is over, you'll be a very happy woman." Tangmo gave her a wink.
"Perhaps." Rosalind replied coolly.
"With all the excitement I believe we haven't quite gotten your names." Robert inquired.
"I'm Tangmo."
"Laura."
"Please to make your acquaintances."
"And I assume you know who we are?" Rosalind looked at them with mild expectation.
"The fame and incomparable physicist Rosalind Lutece, the master architect of the flying city Columbia." Laura stepped forward. "List of accomplishments include the creation of the Lutece Field, the discovery of inter-dimensional portal, pulling the equally esteem Robert Lutece over to her own reality, assisting a fanatic cult leader in kidnapping Booker DeWitt's daughter, and engineered a plot to dispose said cult leader after he stabbed you in the back."
Expecting Rosalind to be offended, especially with the insinuation regarding Elizabeth origin, Tangmo was a tad surprised, and slightly disturbed, when a fleeting smile graced her freckled face.
"Dear brother, I think these two will do right by Ms. DeWitt and Ms. Lamb after all." Rosalind turned to regard her brother, who concurred with a nod.
"See Tangmo, diplomacy." Laura gave him friendly nudge in the side.
"Yeah, I can think of other name for it." The nudge quickly turned into a painful jab.
"Now." Laura addressed Rosalind. "I believe you are here to lead us to the town of Mercy Fall?"
"That was the agreement we had with Mr. Master," Rosalind inspected their uniform again. "However I believe a little alteration need to be made given your rather…distinct attire."
"We're dressed to kill." Laura smirked.
"Indeed, although the nice people of Mercy Fall will more than likely take a more guard perception to such assembly," it was Robert who now spoke. "Therefore we will lead you to a more discreet path."
"Lead the way then." Tangmo nodded.
"Very well, keep pace then." As one, the twins spun and strode deeper into the glittering emerald scenery, their movement a mirror image of one another, a perfect duplicate synchronization.
Tangmo and Laura quickly fell into steps behind them, guns slack over their chest and fingers resting on the grip. It was a nice little stroll through tranquil greenery, the pillars of nature rising like great sanctified temple, a house of primordial elegance more beautiful than any feeble hands of men could ever hope to create. It was easy to lose yourself in Mother Earth splendor, and Tangmo soon found himself more draw to his surrounding than the Lutece. Beside him, Laura was also getting spellbound by the wondrous sight.
"You two seem relaxed." Rosalind spoke up.
"We are." Tangmo never took his eyes off the leafy enclosure.
"Interesting." Rosalind continued. "So the possibilities of any lurking threats are not of your concern at all?"
"There's nothing here."
"And you are sure of this."
Tangmo gave a friendly laugh. "Can you hear them Ms. Lutece? The birds singing their jovial serenade? The scents carried by the winds? Nothing but purified fragrance of floras in full bloom, sweet and alluring, absent the acrid odor of humanity. This place is unspoiled. The only intruder here is us."
"Looks can be deceiving." Rosalind added simply.
"Ah, scientist." Tangmo sighed. "So consumed by the passion to unlock the mechanization of the world that you become blind to its true working. Ancient wisdom forsaken for the sake of equation."
He could only smirk when the female Lutece inclined her head slightly in his direction, glaring threateningly with one eye before returning her attention forward. The sane, logical part of Tangmo's brain was telling him not to aggravate the Lutece, but the chance to screw around with the twins was too good to pass up. Rosalind joyless personality made it that more delicious to push her button…shit that sounded kinda wrong.
A hum sounded to his right, Laura was vocalizing a tune he knew all too well. A bright smile graced his face when she began singing, her voice a heavenly soprano chiming like angelic bells.
"Someday, when we are wiser, when the worlds older, when we have learned."
As one, the Lutece turn startled, but didn't interrupt as Laura continued to the next verse.
"Someday, life will fairer, need will be rarer, and greed will not pay."
It was a strange Disney moment that popped up out of nowhere, with Laura capturing the role of a doe eyed princess perfectly, moving in the correct wavy motion that was a trademark to the studio many heroines, and Tangmo loved every moment of it. Sure, the guns and armor was a little off putting, but beyond the grim exterior Laura was really selling the part. And hey, Elizabeth practically did the same thing when she and Booker were in Shanty Town.
"Godspeed this bright millennia, let it come, if we wish upon the moon…"
Stopping, the Lutece diverted all of their attention to this strange yet whimsical display, watching intently as Laura finished the song, hand rising dramatically to the bright heaven above.
"One day, someday…soon…"
Tangmo gave her a thumps up while the Lutece clapped in a stiff, mechanized manner of people who were not used to giving compliment, or clapping for that matter.
"A solider and a poet. Full of surprises I see?" Rosalind commented.
"Bravo." Robert announced as they began moving again. "A hopeful and inspiring piece."
Laura snorted. "No love, this song is a bloody tragedy."
Robert was mildly confused. "How so?"
"We never learn."
Robert didn't reply as they continued down the quickly sparse path. Widening tree lines and leveling ground indicating the tampering of civilization.
"We have arrived." Following Rosalind outstretched arm, Tangmo and Laura step onto an overgrown clearing, shinning green grasses and wild flowers caressing their knees, great thick roots rising above the soft earth like petrified serpents. A peculiar square structure stood hidden beneath the swaying foliage, time worn and weather beaten to rotting black. It took Tangmo a moment to recognize the low and flat shape of one those cellar doors that seems to be a permanent fixture of American and European housing.
"Nice, definitely not gonna get shank in there." Laura's sarcasm was hard to miss as she reached over and grabbed the rusty iron handle. In one swift motion she pulled the decrepit door off its hinges, decaying woods and iron flew pass Tangmo before crashing into a towering pine, exploding in a gust of brilliant splinters.
Power armor.
When your surrounding wasn't one of reinforced gothic steel structures, you sometime forget how much it enhances your strength.
"Oops." Laura shrugged as Tangmo swung the other door open, without breaking it, and pointed his AA-12 into the cavernous stairs leading into an unlit tunnel, finger hovering on the trigger.
"What is this?" Tangmo asked. "And don't say tunnel, stairs or something along those lines."
"Very well. It is what historian now referred to as the Underground Railroad." Rosalind began crisply.
"A route to escape the bondage of slavery, passage to emancipation." Robert added.
"A century ago this was where the American blacks began the final length of their journey toward freedom. A path leading northward from this very location will take them all the way to the Canadian border."
"So where does this lead to?" Laura unslung here flamer and lights the ignition fire.
"To the church of Lady Jolee in Mercy Fall," Robert said. "From there you can easily navigate your way into town and retrieve Elizabeth and Eleanor."
"As I said before, your rather conspicuous attire will more than likely drew unwanted attention from the residents." Rosalind said.
"It is a time of great celebration in town you see."
"A time of historical indulgence and unrestrained patriotism."
"A birth of a nation."
"A rousing cheer for the republic."
"For it is the Fourth of July."
"The Fourth of July? Dude, we're dressed for the occasion," Tangmo laughed and held out his arms.
"I failed to see how dressing in the style of a National Socialist would elicit American nationalism." Robert irked a brow.
"Not the dress love, the guns," Laura held up the SCAR and flamer in each hand, a toothy grin cutting across her face. "Nothing says you love the Star - Spangled Banner like the zealous dedication to the second amendment."
"Be that as it may, I would still advise you to stay out of sight," did Rosalind just roll her eyes? It shouldn't have been that cute. "Now, might I suggest you get going?"
"Something tells me this is where we part," Laura addressed the twins as Tangmo began descending the steps, taking point.
"For the moment I assured you." Robert nodded.
"Where will you go?" Laura pressed on.
"We need to alert Elizabeth and Eleanor of your coming," Rosalind gave her one last scathing look. "Don't want them to get the wrong idea."
"See you around then." Laura gave them a parting wave before descending after Tangmo who was crouched on his knee at the bottom of the stair case, the AA-12 pointed down the manmade shaft now lighted orange by the flamer's light, gaze fixed on his wrist as a map began rendering on the display screen.
"A straight line?" Laura came to stand beside him, hunching slightly to see.
"According to the scan, yeah," Tangmo rose. "Let's go."
They marched on in silent. The crunching of their boots echoed down the tunnel, the first noise in centuries to stir the darkness. The path was bare, coated in thick layers of cobwebs and dust that rose like mist around them. Tangmo could feel his skin crawl knowing lurked inside those bulbous cloudy sacks.
Spiders.
Millions of those eight legged bastards just waiting for a chance to pounce him, he fucking hate spiders.
"You want me to clear a path?" Laura snickered, waving her flamer.
"No thanks I'm fine," Tangmo skirted around a rather large puffy clump. "I'll just scream like a little girl if something's wrong."
"That's a nasty looking one on your shoulder though, mate."
Tangmo didn't know what was more embarrassing.
Falling for Laura very simple trick, or his sharp, but blessedly short, effeminate squeal and the tiptoeing ballerina like dance that followed. Laura was already doubling over in a breathless laughing fit when Tangmo finally composed him, dusting and straightening his commissariat long coat, pacing a small circlet to dispel the last of the fright. Dark malice burning in his eyes, Tangmo drew his Bolt pistol and pressed the cold barrel on Laura's temple who still cackled ceaselessly.
"Fuck…you." He hissed, putting every ounce of bile into those two syllables.
"After that? Not a chance love." Laura slapped the pistol away and got back on her feet, stifling her snicker.
"That was not funny bro, fucking hell," Tangmo holstered the Bolt pistol before glancing down both end of the tunnel. "Which way were we going?"
"That way." Laura pointed down a path with her flamer and together they continued on in relative peace, the cobwebs were still a bother but Tangmo managed to hammer out the phobia with steely focus and discipline. Now he only need to cast warily glance at the hive every minute or so.
A chiming electronic giggle sounded and a message icon popup in the middle of the updating map on Tangmo wrist display. Tapping the icon, a lightning bolt to exemplify urgency, Tangmo read aloud the Master message:
"Drone request granted, two squadrons enroute to your position, ETA one hour and forty minutes."
"That's nice and quick, hope it doesn't crash into any planes on the way." Laura mused.
"Reinforcement ETA, three hours." Tangmo blinked, making sure that he read that right.
"Did you say three hour?" Laura repeated, disbelief plain on her fiery hued face.
"Here." Pressing his screen, Tangmo forwarded the message to Laura. She tapped the display quickly, going over each letters and lines like a high school teacher scrutinizing her student's work.
"Bloody hell, you're right." She said after a moment.
"Told you so."
"From Reykjavik to the American east cost in three hours?"
"That fisherman ship must be more than meets the eye."
"Maybe it's a robot in disguise."
Fists pumping, they laughed at the well place reference before continuing down the tunnel, the passage widening deeper into the murky darkness, nothing stirred in the sunless stygian depth.
"Bloody hell it's quite." Laura observed.
"Well…yeah. It's an abandoned tunnel," Tangmo said. "Don't worry, it's not going to last."
"I know, we've already passed the walking simulator part of the Bioshock game, next up is the dakka phase."
"That, or the universe is about to massively dick with us."
"When has it ever not?"
"Good point."
"You think we'll reach the surface before the action begins?"
"Hopefully. I don't want to fight down here with all the fucking spiders around."
They both laughed before the oppressive silence return, sallying forth to reclaim its dominion from the two loud interlopers. It managed to reclaim its hold for a few fleeting minutes before Tangmo and Laura began speaking again.
"We hear drums, drums in the deeper." Laura recited the last line from the Book of Mazarbul.
"They are coming…" Tangmo checked the integrity of his AA-12 as he spoke the final passage of the doomed journal. "They are coming…"