Project Origin
Interval 07
UNIFICATION
Situation:
Dark Signal operatives have arrived at the Still Island facility and are attempting to locate the Telesthetic Amplifier.
Dark Signal operative is no closer to intercepting Sergeant Keegan. If anything, he seems to be moving further away.
Mission:
Primary objective is to rendezvous with Dark Signal team and use the Telesthetic Amplifier to destroy _.
Secondary objective is to locate and restrain Sergeant Keegan.
Take her to the Vault.
Daddy, no! Please, no!
Flash.
Becket came to, kneeling on the cold steel floor of the elevator. His head was throbbing, and spinning. Becket promptly vomited onto the steel, rolling onto his back. The whole world was spinning, and nothing made sense.
The last thing he remembered…
"NO!" He roared, shoving her away. Alma screamed in defeat, teleporting away
"What the hell happened? How did I end up here?" Becket mused to no one in particular. He slowly pushed his way up to his feet, grabbing his discarded assault rifle and making sure it was ready.
How did he end up at the top of the lift? Hell, he didn't even remember getting on the elevator. Becket slowly made his way out of the elevator, moving into a concrete hallway. A forklift, holding a pallet of barrels was on his right, and further down the hall, the wall was collapsed inward, allowing light to stream in from outside. Becket stepped over the rubble, pulling himself through the hole and seeing…
I know. I know what I am...
Her tree. Alma's tree. Just as it was in his dreams.
Becket approached, bewildered. The simple swing hung limply in the still day, as Becket approached and touched it, pushing the wood plank away from him.
Mine! This body is mine!
Becket collapsed onto his knee, yelling in pain as his head throbbed immensely, sending shockwaves through his body. His hand convulsed, grabbing wildly at the air, as if
I am her King. HER KING!
it had a mind of its own.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Becket yelled, grabbing his hand and slamming it on the ground several times. Instantly, his headaches subsided and he had control of his body again. Becket remained on his hands and knees for a minute, sweat dripping off his brow, before he spun around and sat down, facing the opposite direction.
Alma stared at him, her sunken eyes boring into his soul.
Becket screamed in surprise, firing his assault rifle into Alma's hunched over body, causing her to disappear in a flash.
My love! What have you done to her! You will pay. PAY.
"SHUT UP!" Becket roared, pulling his pistol out of its holster and putting the barrel to his temple. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
The voice quieted. And Becket put his pistol away with trembling hands. What the hell was wrong with him? Becket got to his feet unsteadily, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Suddenly, he realized it, eyes open wide and spine prickling in terror.
Alma had overwhelmed him.
She didn't absorb him like she did Top or Fox, for some reason he was still alive. But…
She had taken control of his mind. He knew it, instantly, although he didn't quite know how. The numerous voices that were usually floating in his head have all but disappeared, replaced with a festering, angry alternate personality that seethed beneath the surface.
And worse, this… Thing in his head. It wasn't just a voice. It was strong, strong enough to possess his hand. Alma needed him alive for some reason, but under her control, to dance to her tune.
He was going to make her regret that decision.
"If I can keep control long enough," said Becket, talking to no one. "I can get to the Amplifier and destroy her."
Jaw set with resolve, Becket strode across the open courtyard, pulling open a chain link fence on the other side. His KERNAL flickered, and Stokes' image appeared in the heads up display.
"I'm inside," she said, her voice slightly garbled by the static. "Looks like someone was here recently, but I haven't seen anyone so far."
Her image was replaced by Manny's as Becket took a ladder down into a drainage ditch.
"Stokes," the Sergeant started. "We've got movement, lots of movement."
Becket made his way through the tunnel, kneepads scraping against the concrete as he crawled forward.
"Hold them off as long as you can, but don't take any chances," the Lieutenant responded. "If things get too hot, I want you to get out of here."
"I'm not leaving you, Lieutenant."
"You'll do as you're told," Stokes responded strictly, as Becket pulled himself out of the small tunnel, landing in another drainage area.
"Bullshit," said Manny, cursing in English rather than his native tongue. "You can court martial me if we come out of this alive."
A single Replica soldier dropped down the ladder across the room from Becket, who fired a three round burst into the upper torso of the soldier, blood exploding from the wounds like clouds. The clone dropped like a rock, and Becket strode across the room, climbing up the manhole and exiting the drainage area.
He arrived in a courtyard just outside of the nuclear power plant. Rubble from the large concrete towers was scattered about the open aired area. The APC, badly damaged from crashing down the subway, was sitting in the middle of the courtyard, Manny sitting up on the turret.
"Damn, Becket!" Manny exclaimed with a laugh, seeing an exhausted and dirty Becket. "You are a bad mother fucker, I'll tell you that."
Becket looked around, seeing a variety of Replica corpses tossed about the courtyard.
"What's the situation, Manny?" Becket asked.
"Well," Manny said, squinting in the sunlight, looking for more clones. "They don't seem very coordinated. It's definitely not an organized attack. Uh... more like they're all just showing up separately."
Manny dropped from controlling the turret, and exited through the back of the APC, hefting an SMG.
"Come on, Stokes is inside," he said, motioning for Becket to follow.
They approached the door of the facility, a heavy steel airlock with a small control pad, like a simple calculator, built into the concrete frame of the facility. They approached, and Becket watched Manny try to punch in a combination, when the control panel sparked violently. Manny cursed in Spanish, putting a pair of fingers to his headset.
"Stokes, the panel must have taken a hit in the fight. Can you open this door from where you are?"
"I think so," responded Stokes over the headset. "Give me a minute."
"Manny," said Becket, motioning with his head toward a squadron of Replica clambering over the rubble toward their position. "We got company."
"Stokes, make it quick," Manny said, turning and running for the APC, Becket hot on his heels. "Look like we've got some late arrivals to the party."
Manny sprinted into the open back of the APC, setting his SMG down and climbing up the ladder quickly, grabbing onto the controls of the turret as Becket slammed into the metal cover of the APC.
Manny started firing, the deafening sounds of the turret ripping through the still day air. Becket winced as a scalding brass jacket fell on his exposed forearm, and he brushed it off quickly, leaning out of cover and firing a quick burst at the swarming clones.
"Yeah, sucker!" Manny yelled, laughing. "You like that?"
Becket glanced to his right, seeing a Heavy Replica stomp out from behind cover, raising its nail gun.
"Manny! Three o'clock!" Becket yelled, as Manny swung the turret around, ripping apart the Heavy as glowing-tipped nails slammed into the side of the APC, some bouncing off harmlessly, some puncturing the steel.
"There's a lot more where that came from!" Sergeant Morales said, laughing. Becket grinned in spite of himself; the guy was having a ball.
More Replica forces stormed into the courtyard from an opening in the concrete wall, Becket lifted his assault rifle and it clicked empty. Damn. He reached for another magazine and found… Nothing.
Double damn.
"Manny, I'm out!"
"Use mine!"
Becket pulled the sling over his head, dropping the empty assault rifle and grabbing Manny's SMG off one of the benches in the APC. Becket left the sanctuary of the small tank, ducking behind a collapsed pillar, popping up and taking potshots at the few Replicas that Manny hadn't killed yet.
"Becket!"
Becket looked up to see Manny tossing him a magazine. Becket reached out to grab
THIS BODY IS MINE!
it out of the air when he collapsed on the ground, the magazine clattering harmlessly around the rubble.
"Not now!" Becket hissed through grit teeth, as every inch of his body burned and ached. Becket threw one arm over the pillar, using it to prop himself up on one knee. He looked forward, staring at nothing, eyes blazing yellow as he smiled wickedly.
"You can't resist," the voice that came forth was dual layered. Both Becket and Alma's voices were coming from Becket's mouth.
"You can't resist," it repeated. "Your mind is weak, you have all of this psychic power and no idea how to use it. You don't deserve to control this body."
"This body..." Becket grunted, eyes returning to normal. "Is mine!"
"BECKET!" Manny hollered, swinging the turret around to blast a Replica that was approaching Becket's cover. This snapped Becket back to reality, and he scrambled away from the pillar, which exploded with gunshots. Manny returned to firing at the Replica forces, which were now swarming the courtyard.
Becket fired a stream of bullets into a Replica, dropping him. Becket retrieved the magazine from the rubble.
"Why do you persist?" Becket's eyes glowed bright yellow, energy flowing off of them. "These... Mortal weapons, disgusting. There is such a much more... Elegant solution."
Becket extended his right arm toward a Replica, who stiffened like a board, dropping its assault rifle on the ground. Becket grinned wickedly as the Replica was levitated off the ground several inches, before Becket squeezed his hand shut. The Replica was liquefied with a scream, flesh and blood exploding off of the skeleton, which dropped to the ground in a pile of bones. Becket laughed wildly, insanely, before his eyes returned to normal.
Have your fun. You won't have much more.
The evil was just toying with him now, laugh echoing away in the recesses of his mind. It could take full control at any time, as it showed just him, but it was simply letting him live out his fantasy that he could stop it.
Becket's heart sank, as he fired at another Replica, ejecting the spent magazine, reloading. He swung the Type-12 weapon around into his hands, taking aim at a group of Replica and firing, disintegrating several before the remaining few jumped out of the way.
It didn't matter. He had to win. He had to stop it, otherwise...
He didn't want to think of the otherwise. He had to do it. Period.
"Oh, you look hungry! Let me serve you up a little something!" Manny laughed, firing the turret at a squad of Replica running down the open yard. "Whaddya think? Bullets taste like chicken, don't they?"
Becket laughed again. Manny was saying some ridiculous things as he blasted the Replica forces.
A bullet grazed Becket's neck, as he dropped back into cover, blood trickling off the wound slightly, running down and soaking his collar.
"I can keep shredding you fuckers all day!"
Becket returned to cover behind the APC, just as Stokes radioed in.
"I've got it, the door is open."
"Becket! Go!" Manny yelled, continuing to fire at the Replica forces, which weren't disappearing. "God DAMN, this is therapeutic!"
Becket sprinted across the open field as the airlock slid open, dodging gunfire from the clones. Becket stepped into the airlock, and the outside door slid shut with a hiss.
"Hey Becket," Manny radioed in, the sound of gunfire still prevalent in the background. "Good luck, man."
Becket stood as the airlock pressurized, his ears popped as the pressure changed from the outside to the inside. Red lasers passed from the ceiling to the floor, and then back up to the ceiling again, killing all of the bacteria that were present on his body.
It's almost time.
"Shut up," growled Becket.
The inner gateway opened with a hiss, the heavy steel door sliding inward and then to the side. Becket entered a wide-open space, numerous computer monitors on the walls, all of them displaying the symbol of the Armacham Technology Corporation, spinning softly above the background.
"Becket! Over here!" Stokes yelled, standing in an open doorway across the room. Becket strode across the room, meeting up with Stokes. She smiled at him, one that he tried to return but failed. "Man, it's good to see you. I didn't know if you'd make it... Hell, I didn't think we were going to make it."
Becket didn't respond, turning and pushing the up button on the elevator control panel. The cargo elevator starting moving up the steel, bland shaft with a hum.
"Halford wasn't sure what will happen when Alma shows up," Stokes said, checking her SMG. "I hope it's not one of those horror movie things where she reads your mind and uses your deepest fears against you. That would suck."
She laughed softly, but Becket didn't respond.
How little she knows.
"Whatever happens, I just want you to know... Nobody else could've done what you did today, Becket. If we get out of this, it's because of you."
Becket turned to look at her.
"Thanks, Stokes," he said, with a small smile. "Thanks for believing in me."
She smiled back, pushing her KERNAL system back up her nose. The elevator shuddered and stopped, Becket and Stokes stepping through the open door, weapons raised. The control room was dark and empty. Several desks, computers and equipment still sitting on them, sat unoccupied. A thin layer of dust covered everything, Becket noticed, as they stepped forward. Another airlock was on the other side of the room, and Stokes and Becket entered.
Becket collapsed against the side of the wall, eyes glowing bright yellow as the airlock closed and began to pressurize.
"Becket?" Stokes approached, touching his elbow.
"Get away!" Becket growled as he struggled to get back in control of his body. He did, finally, sweating and panting, standing straight up again.
"Becket...?" Stokes asked, hesitantly, her hand on her pistol. Becket held up a hand.
"I'm fine," he said, breathlessly. "I can... I can hold out. Until it's done."
Stokes nodded solemnly.
"Once we're inside, I'll need to make sure everything's set up the way Snake Fist indicated in his notes. While I'm doing that, you can power up the amplifier. It looks like we don't have much time left."
Becket nodded as his ears popped, and the lasers came down from the ceiling, frying any and all bacteria on their bodies and weapons. The door opened with a hiss, and both of them passed through the doorway, standing back outside. The sounds of gunfire had died down, just the occasional spurt of gunfire, the sound of the turret overwhelming the sound of the Replica assault rifles. They were in a catwalk, a large concrete wall blocking both sides of the catwalk. Both Deltas sprinted down the catwalk, entering another airlock.
"Great, another airlock," said Stokes humorlessly. Becket laughed slightly. After another segment of ears popping and bacteria killing, the door slid open again, and Becket and Stokes entered a large, open area.
"We must be in one of the smoke stacks," Becket said, seeing a large steel ball, currently being lowered by a robotic arm. Steam hissed out of the arm as it lowered the ball to the catwalk that Becket and Stokes stood on. Energy radiated off of the ball in huge waves.
"Becket," Stokes said, heading to a control console. "Power up the amplifier."
The ball opened, splitting neatly in half, revealing the amplifier chair sitting in the center of the cage. Becket nodded, heading to a desk of power switches. Wiring hung freely from underneath the panel, most of it looking extremely old and dangerous. Becket pulled all three of the switches, the buttons and monitors on the desk lighting up.
"That's it! According to Snake Fist, it'll take a few minutes to reach full power."
Becket nodded, watching as a bridge extended from the catwalk, leading to the amplifier. Becket's head throbbed as he stepped onto the bridge.
"No," he grunted, as his hand squeezed itself shut unconsciously. He grabbed his wrist with his free hand, eventually forcing it open with by sheer willpower. "Not yet."
He stepped forward, limbs feeling like lead with each step.
The evil in his head was silent, but he felt like it was attempting to hold him back. A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Becket turned, half expecting to see Alma.
It was Stokes. She was staring at him resolutely.
"Let's do it, Becket."
He nodded, handing her his SMG, Type-12 Particle Weapon and KERNAL system, before sitting in the chair. She set them aside.
Stokes locked his feet in first, tightening the leather straps around his feet and shins, before leading forward and tightening the straps around his wrist, not tight enough to cut off circulation. He tried to move, but was snugly secured. She lowered the metallic crown onto his head as well.
The lights in the amplifier went off suddenly, and Stokes turned in surprise. Becket tried to crane his head to see, but was locked in tightly.
"Aristide?" Stokes asked, surprised, she took a step forward, toward the businesswoman. Aristide's suit was rumpled and dirty, her hair was messy and bags were under her eyes. She held a pistol in her hand as she approached Becket and Stokes.
"What's wrong with you?" Stokes demanded, unarmed, as she stood in front of Aristide. "We have to stop Alma!"
"That's exactly what I intend to do," said Aristide, leaning on the control panel wearily.
"But Becket's not strong enough without the amplifier. She'll absorb him."
Absorb? No.
"And then we'll lock them away."
Becket blinked in surprise.
"What the FUCK is wrong with you! Why are you doing this?" Stokes yelled at Aristide. She puts her hands up as Aristide points her gun in the Lieutenant's direction.
"Without Alma, I don't have any leverage. Without leverage, I don't have a future."
There is no future.
Stokes glanced at Becket, shock and anger on her face, before turning back to Aristide.
"I can't believe this. The city's a smoldering ruin and you're worried about your fucking resume."
"Listen-"
"No, you listen!" Stokes yelled, taking a step toward Aristide and putting her hands down. "We're doing this Halford's way. We're gonna kill the bitch."
Stokes reaches for her pistol, but Aristide is faster.
The chamber echoes with the sound of a gunshot, and blood splatters on Becket as Stokes collapses with a cry of surprise.
"Stokes!" Becket yelled, as the Lieutenant crawled forward before collapsing. She was breathing heavily, sobbing slightly, as she tried to push herself off the ground.
Aristide stepped forward, tripping over Stokes and landing on Becket. She stared at the Sergeant in his eyes as he struggled, trying to get free and help his comrade.
"I'm not a bad person," she said softly, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry it came to this. I really am. I just don't have a choice."
She tested Becket's wrist bonds. Stokes collapsed with a gasp, lying still.
"You have a date with destiny, Sergeant Becket. Let's not keep her waiting."
Aristide took a step back, staring to Becket's left in surprise. She raised her pistol
It's time. Goodbye, Michael.
but was thrown aside like a ragdoll, bouncing off the extended metallic bridge several times before landing in a heap on the ground near the elevator.
The air distorted all around the amplifier, and although Becket couldn't move his head to completely see what it was, he knew. And he felt a cold chill up his spine.
Alma.
She stepped into view, eyeing him slightly. Still completely naked, black hair hanging limply off her body.
Now, Michael David Becket knew, it was time. The final battle for his sanity, as he felt the evil slowly creeping in, overtaking his mind.
"It's not going to happen this way!" Becket yelled, fighting with every bit of his will power to keep control of himself. Alma flickered between her beautiful, voluptuous image, and the gaunt, terrifying one. Aristide stirred in the background, climbing to her feet and pressing the button to close the amplifier.
MY QUEEN!
Alma straddled Becket in the chair, legs wrapped around his back as she stared in his eyes. She leaned closer, closer... And then...
Her sunken eyes stared into his soul, and Becket felt himself torn from his body, thrown aside and
Together. Forever.
He stood in a meadow, just like one in Everytown, USA. The grass was long and swayed in the breeze, tickling the hands that he held at his sides. It was nice, serene even. He walked, like he always did, up the rolling hill and to the top.
There was a tree there, that maybe once was beautiful and vibrant, but now it was merely dead and decaying. There was a single branch still intact with the tree, and from that large branch hung a simple swing.
Becket shook his head, revealing that the field was dead, dust blowing softly on the wind. Computer consoles jutted out of the dirt throughout the hill.
"I have to reactivate the console," muttered Becket. Walking through the dead grass to the first console, pulling down the switch.
He felt cold hands grasp each side of his head, throwing him backward with such force he bounced off the ground, twice, spinning wildly around.
"Why does she only care about you!"
It was an inhuman voice, and Becket pulled himself to his feet, staring at his assailant. The skin was gray and cracked, like dried clay. Empty eye sockets, gaunt and haunting, stared into Becket's soul. Whispy white hair floated softly in the breeze. But the rest of the monster was quite recognizable.
"Keegan?"
"Why doesn't she want me?"
Yes. Yesssss!
Keegan started stomping toward Becket, before disappearing like ash on the wind. Becket pulled his pistol from its holster, holding it at the ready.
Keegan was nowhere to be found, and Becket cautiously made his way toward the other console. He pulled the switch
Together. Forever.
down. Keegan materialized behind Becket, striking down with his fist. Becket rolled out of the way, just in time. Keegan's strike destroyed the console, and he stalked toward Becket, who fired his pistol.
Keegan teleported to the side, continuing his pace. Becket fired again, Keegan teleported again. Keegan grabbed Becket by his neck, holding him over his head.
"She's mine! You'll never have her!" Keegan's inhuman, almost Satanic voice was filled with jealousy and rage.
Becket grabbed Keegan's wrist forcing him to put him down. Keegan tossed Becket aside, again, before disappearing once more.
My love.
Becket grabbed his pistol, sprinting for the last console, as Keegan appeared again, attacking Becket. He punched him in the stomach this time, and Becket doubled over. Becket grunted in pain as Keegan brought his fist square to Becket's chin, causing Becket to collapse backward, blood squirting out of his mouth.
Becket landed in a heap on the dirt, as Keegan grabbed him by the collar of his Kevlar vest and tossed him aside roughly. Becket's back smashed against something metal, and he collapsed to the dirt with a grunt again. Becket turned, coughing, to see the final console. He pulled himself to his feet, pulling the switch as Keegan teleported again.
"Becket!" Keegan grunted, no longer speaking in his inhuman voice, as Becket pulled his pistol to Keegan's head. The Gunnery Sergeant was sobbing now. "Help me!"
Becket pulled the trigger emotionlessly, blowing a hole through Keegan's head. As the former member of Dark Signal collapsed to the ground, he disappeared in a tuft of ash.
Becket stood, breathlessly, panting. Why was he still in this hellhole? He activated the amplifier, he should have been gone by now...
"Hello."
Becket spun, pistol raised, only to see...
Himself.
Eyes glowing a bright yellow, a wicked grin on his face, Michael Becket stared at Michael Becket.
"No..." Michael muttered. "No, this isn't happening."
"It's time, Michael," Becket said, evil smile still on its face.
"Go to hell!" Michael yelled, raising his pistol and firing. The bullets simply passed through Becket.
Becket teleported, standing face to face with Michael.
"Goodbye Michael," Becket said calmly, eyes glowing a bright golden color.
Flash.
His eyes opened, still restrained in his chair. The lights of the amplifier glowed softly in the darkness. With a hiss, the steel ball opened once more, revealing...
Destruction. Death.
Fire, blood and ash spun around the burnt and decaying buildings, swirling and flowing. And standing in the center of it all...
She turned, approaching him in the chair. He broke his wrist restraint with little problem, as she grabbed his hand, lovingly, drawing it slowly to his her distended stomach
His child. Their child.
and placing it softly, holding it in place lovingly, tightly.
He felt the kick, and he heard the whisper.
"Mommy."
She stood in full glory amongst the destruction. The Mother of the Apocalypse. Alma.
He lifted his head, smiling wickedly, insanely. Eyes glowing a bright yellow, power flowing off them freely.
Sergeant Michael David Becket has been consumed.
A war is coming. I've seen it in my dreams. Fire sweeping over the Earth. Bodies in the streets. Cities turned to dust...
...
Retaliation.
A/N – Project Origin is finished.
Now, the final battle for humanity begins. Will the Point Man, Paxton Fettel and Alma be able to defeat the forces of the Creature and Michael Becket? What about their child? Where do Genevieve Aristide, the Replica forces, the Delta Force and the other survivors of F.E.A.R. and Dark Signal fit in?
All will be answered in the final three Intervals of Her Name is Alma.
Please review.