Sympathy for the Devil

by Big Demoband

Most, when presented with ADVENT, would not hesitate to ring the death knell for them. The Elders fully expect this as XCOM draws closer to the Hunter's Stronghold. But when faced with a fate far different than what they ever could have imagined, how will the Chosen react in the face of it? Where will their future lead?

35. Confront

The minute Mordenna made sure that Jax was alright and with his followers, he made his way to the Bridge.

Eliza hadn't been there to greet them at the Armory, and probably for good reason. Wouldn't want to spook Jax right after an experience like that. Mordenna still harbored a bit of guilt over it all; if he had been the one to infiltrate the security, he could've worked around the trap in the files. Wiki—her brain currently hanging from his hip—wouldn't have tripped it and subsequently gotten herself... not killed, Mordenna was determined about that. He could bring her back. He just had to figure out what was wrong.

More important than that, but with no insult meant to Wiki, was Eliza. Having those Siren files in her possession couldn't be good for her, and what he had said to her back then reared its ugly head. You just had to go and call her the Chosen Siren, huh? Lest he forget it was his more contrarian side that pushed him to do it. You don't have to act on every urge you get. It wasn't so much an urge as it was a command, was it?

Tossing out his internal monologue, Mordenna entered the Bridge. The staff were still there, along with the usual suspects—Eliza, Bradford, Lily, and Tygan. Tygan looked like he was packing up to leave while Lily was at one of the monitors, staring blankly at a screen of information. Even from this distance, Mordenna's enhanced sight caught the word "Siren" and without looking and seeing what Bradford and Eliza were doing, he strode over. Leaning over and closing the file, he turned to Lily, voice low. "Hey. Sis. Mind, uh, mind not pouring over that in the vicinity of Eliza?"

Lily blinked, broken out of the spell she had entered looking at the info. She breathed a sigh, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah. Probably wise. I just... couldn't help but look at it. The things Argus was going to do to her—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he said, wagging a finger. "Don't wanna hear it. Lips. Zipped. You can unzip them back at the Workshop but for now keep them closed on this matter. Capiche?"

Getting the message, Lily stepped back from the terminal. "I got it. Just... be careful with Eliza, ok?"

Mordenna nodded, straightening. Policing of Lily done, he turned to look at where Bradford and Eliza were standing. They were close together, like they'd been talking somewhat privately. Seeing Mordenna look over to her, the Commander gave him a warm, but weary smile. Girl's barely holding herself together. Could he blame her? "Hunter."

"Commander." He sauntered on over. He wanted to be casual about this but his concern for Eliza felt like it was coloring his presentation of himself. "Everything smooth sailing up here?"

"As smooth as it gets," she returned.

Even as she was trying to assure him that she was alright, Mordenna could see in the tiredness of her features that what all just happened was weighing pretty heavily on her. Cut to the chase, then. "Right. I'll believe that when I see it. Anyway, remember that talk I asked about while we were on the ground?"

"I do. But..." She turned to Bradford, who took a sudden interest in something off to the left. Seems he didn't want to stop her regarding this talk. The implicit trust from Bradford was... something, alright. At Bradford's feigned disinterest, she sighed. "Alright. Looks like I'm free."

"Perfect!" Mordenna clapped his hands together. "Let's move this conversation to your quarters. No peeping toms, and all that."

That was enough to get a bit of a smirk out of Eliza. She walked off in the direction of her quarters, and Mordenna followed along right after her. The trip was quiet and only broken by Eliza's footsteps as they made their way over.

Once they were inside, Eliza took her place on the couch, and Mordenna plopped down next to her. Casually throwing an arm over the back of the chair behind her head, he angled his sight down at her. "Alright, Liz, I have a total of two things I'd like to cover. You're a clever girl, you probably know the first but I'll say it anyway; you shouldn't—"

"—look at those files. I know." She rested a hand on her hip. "You weren't exactly subtle, beelining over to Lily and chiding her. I don't really want to, anyway."

"You don't really want to... but I know what it's like to have horrific info at your fingertips, just waiting to be accessed, Lizzie. Bullet point two of my first topic..." His hand on the back of the couch gently came down to be placed on her shoulder. "I'm here. If you wanna just get anything off of your chest regarding it all, postpone looking at that stuff until you might truly be ready, I'm happy to have my ear talked off. No bottling this shit."

At that, Eliza pressed her lips together, crossing her arms and looking away. "I'm fine."

"Oh, that's a lie. Commander, please, this is a two-way street." He took his free hand and planted it on her head, using his fingertips to angle her back into looking at him. "I can't, with a good conscience, continue confiding in you if I know you've got shit you're dealing with and are possibly pushing to the side to take care of me. If you're going to sit here and tell me you're fine after all this, then when you ask me how I'm doing, all I will answer with is 'I'm fine.' Do you see what I'm getting at here, O'Leary?"

She managed eye contact for a few seconds after he was done speaking, then broke it, looking down. "I just... I should—"

"'—be able to deal with this alone?' Where does it stop, Eliza? What problem will finally be so massive and overwhelming that you'll finally cry uncle and submit to people helping the shit out of you? C'mon. I've got a wild idea. How about you try opening up a bit and letting someone hear your problems and see how that feels? Trial period. Don't gotta worry too hard since you're not going all in."

"Alright, alright." She sighed, tucking some hair back behind her ear. "Just, let me get this out of the way. I don't want to appear weak. There's a lot of people depending on me at any given time. I can't give off the impression that I don't have everything under control—a lot of havens and other people I'm dealing with would pick up on it very fast and use it against me. I don't take the three main factions to doubt me too much anymore, but I'm always fearful that it'll... that I'll get preyed upon."

Well... that was fairly reasonable. Someone like Eliza who was at the top and was essentially the non-revealed face of the resistance couldn't exactly be seen as needing support. Still didn't make it any less bullshit that she had to bottle everything, and besides... "I get that. But you can be weak in private. Break down to somebody in a confidential room. Have a feelings jam away from the public eye. Hell, I'd imagine being able to vent all that bottled-up shit would make putting on a strong face easier because you feel better about all of it. But, to the point—" He let his hand drop from her head to gesture at her. "What's on your mind, Commander?"

Turning more towards him and leaning her head against his arm, Eliza took a moment to get her words together. When she did, she closed her eyes as she spoke. "I'm... afraid, of what Argus has done to me. I just... have this feeling that I'm changed. I can't explain it. But when you told me I was going to be the Chosen Siren, things just made sense to me. A name like 'the Siren...' it doesn't make me the most confident about my leadership ability. I'm... I'm half afraid that now, everyone's only following me because I've lured or charmed them against their will in some way." She opened her eyes, gazing at him imploringly. "Do you understand?"

Mordenna could understand that, even if he couldn't really empathize with it. It must suck, to have the niggling doubt that everything you've accomplished really wasn't because of your own skills, but because the game was rigged from the start. Especially for someone in power like Eliza. But, Mordenna was an expert at poking arguments full of holes, and he knew just a few ways to do it. "I get that, Eliza, and let me tell you that you're pretty damn valid to have those concerns. But, I got a problem or two about them being real. First of all, I haven't seen shit regarding any controlling psionics coming out of you. I didn't see psionics at all until you jumped after me. I got some real special eyes, Eliza. If I'm not seeing it, chances are it's not happening."

Eliza opened her mouth, but Mordenna held up a finger. "Not done! I'm proving this beyond a shadow of a doubt. Second of all, wouldn't Fal-Mai say something? Her, with her extra-special hearing, who has on more than one occasion complained about how loud Jax's psionics get when they sounded soft to me? If she's not hearing any siren song outta you, I'd be willing to believe there isn't one. Third of all: Jax. I bet my left eye he would've pounced on the chance to reject you so fast if he got even a whiff of the fact that you were swaying everyone to your side through that kind of trickery. He was chomping at the bit to prove to himself that Fal-Mai and I were brainwashed, remember? So just keep that close to your chest—three Chosen, all with their individual abilities to detect it, haven't seen evidence of foul play outta you. So I want those self doubts to shut the hell up. They, quite frankly, don't know what they're on about."

It seemed to take Eliza a while to digest all that, but when she did, she nodded and relaxed a bit. If that was what it took to help the Commander, this therapy business was easier than Mordenna thought. Now if only you could figure out how to handle your brother. Hush.

"... you're probably right," Eliza muttered. "I just always have that fear at the back of my mind."

"I get it, I really do. Just know your doubts don't have too much grounding and also—I support you. Beat that, inner demons."

Eliza laughed and it took a weight off of Mordenna's shoulders, hearing that out of her. God, he loved her so much, it wasn't funny. Maybe that tragic kind of funny, but whatever. "Ah, whatever shall they do in the face of Hunter Mordenna?"

"Die, probably." He shrugged in a carefree manner. "Got anything else, Liz? I'm happy to sit here and consistently dunk on your negative thoughts."

Eliza's mirth faded away as she considered her next avenue of conversation. "Just one other thing for now, I suppose. I... can't help but feel like a major asshole, assigning Jax to his own facility and having all of that go down."

Oof. Well, that was valid. Not like he could blame her—and here, he could empathize. He very much intended to handle the tension between the two of them today, but he couldn't exactly let that slip to Eliza. He needed her in the dark if he wanted his plan to go off without a hitch. "Yeah. For one, we couldn't have possibly known the Elders would retaliate like that; there's been no precedent to it. I know it's popular to beat yourself up for stuff you couldn't change—hell, I want to do it over the mission, too—but all you're gonna accomplish in the end is a bunch of bruises that were for nothing. As much as saying this is like prying my own teeth out of my mouth with my bare hands; unless one of us up and invents a time machine and even then that gets convoluted, we can't exactly change the past. Just gotta accept what happened, learn, and move on. So from now on we'll keep an eye out for mines and explosive countermeasures to security protocols. Also, we'll avoid sending Jax on missions that look like they might actively harm him, but even then that has a judgement point. Some things we just can't call all of the time. The Ascension Facility? Alright, could've made a different call there. A future, innocuous mission? Not much we can do about that. Alright?"

Eliza nodded, looking him the eyes. "I got it." She then frowned. "I hate how reasonable you are. It feels... weird, to discuss all of this. I'm waiting for you to laugh off whatever's bothering me at any second. Not because I expect you to, but because I don't expect my problems to be serious."

"Well, Liz, you're learning just how wrong you are here and now. And let me tell you how wrong you are; I am always willing to listen to whatever's knocking around your skull and giving you grief. A happy you is typically a happy me. Don't sweat it."

"If you say so, cowboy." Cowboy! She'd used it as a nickname for him before but he was still living it up. "I think that's about it for me, for now. What's that second item you wanted to bring forth?"

Oh, boy. Here came the plan in action. Mentally initiating his acting mode, Mordenna gestured as he spoke. "Honestly, 'item' is a good word for it. I've got a certain project that's developing in the Proving Grounds that I want you to have a look at personally. It's... a bit of a surprise and I can't exactly move it out of the room. Hazmat, and all. I think you'd appreciate the extra firepower it brings—" He slapped his forehead, a planned action along with his planned "forgetfulness." "Ah, shit. I'm gonna need something from the Workshop as well. Forgot it down there. Tell you what—I'll save you the trip of having to walk with me over to the Workshop to get it. Could you head over to the Proving Grounds and wait for me?"

Eliza tilted her head, but he watched the gears turn as she seemed to gradually accept it. "... alright. I think I can take a look at whatever project you're working on—so long as it doesn't explode in my face.

"As long as everything goes as planned, it shouldn't, really." He meant that, in a way—if he handled all the variables correctly, Eliza and Jax should see a resolution to the space that had grown between them. Eliza was handled, now he just needed to get Jax. "So! Off to the Proving Grounds, Great Commandy One?"

She chuckled at the nickname, standing up. "Sure thing. Want to see me out?"

"Actually," he said, popping up and sauntering over to the middle of the room, "I'm going vent-ways. It's faster, anyway. You can stick with your primitive human methods of walking down hallways, yeah?"

Eliza snickered, shaking her head and making for the door. "Alright, if you insist. See you in the Proving Grounds when you get what you need."

"Oh, sure thing, Liz." Not that she'd be seeing much of him. He reached up, undid the hatch, and was off into the vents as he closed it behind him. He certainly told Eliza a bit of a fib—he wasn't going to be going to the Workshop at all. Where he was going was the little area Jax was tentatively carving out as an art studio for his band of ducklings. He was in there the last time Mordenna checked, and it wasn't like the business with Eliza took too long. A few turns and a slight descent later, he was at the hatch for the room. Undoing it, he dropped in.

The proto-art studio still had a few storage crates lingering in it, and a few tables had been set up with some of the pieces from Jax's Stronghold set up on them. Paintings hung from the walls, and it was clear there was some area near one of the walls they were planning to use for modeling. Jax was sitting at one of the tables, looking reserved, but otherwise alright. What interested Mordenna was the inclusion of two PsiOps he recognized: Benald and Pattie. They were somewhat close to the Warlock, but there was a clear, uncertain distance to it. Jax's little ladies were there as well, but that was to be expected. What Mordenna was concerned with was his own brother, who was looking up at him because of his vent entrance.

Smoothly, Mordenna ambled over and leaned over on the table. "Good ol' brother of mine. How, uh. How you holding up." Ok, maybe this therapy thing was a bit harder than he thought.

Jax nodded. "I am well, for now."

"Good! Good." Silence was quick to follow as Mordenna tried to figure out what to follow up with. It was harder to think of things to say when emotions weren't running red hot. What was he supposed to say now that the situation was over and things were ostensibly fine? Might as well just move on to your scheme. Not like you're accomplishing much just sitting here, staring at him. "Right! Right. Hey, I hate to pry you away from your ever-so-lovely supporters, but I might have been cooking up something for you, too, if you noticed Fal-Mai's fancy new digs." Somehow, lying to Jax just felt more wrong. Something about him coming off of such an emotionally charged situation. "You feel up to coming with me to the Proving Grounds?"

Jax considered him for a moment, then looked to the Mystics on either side of him. Mordenna was half-afraid that he was going to try to bring them along as he looked back to him. "... Of course, brother. It makes me glad to know you are also designing equipment for me, as well."

Oh, Jax. He just had to go and say that. The gnawing guilt in Mordenna's stomach grew. Hoping it didn't show on his face, he stood back up and put on a grin. "Happy to have you along! Just follow me and I'll present your little gift to you."

He watched as Jax slowly got to his feet, muttering a gentle assurance that he'd be alright to the Mystic on his right. Iris, if he remembered correctly. After making sure Jax was following him, he confidently made his way out the door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked. His mind was buzzing as he was considering how things would go once Jax opened the door and saw Eliza hanging out in there. Probably is gonna stop dead in his tracks. Can't just ask him to close his eyes, either—he's bound to see Eliza's psionics in his mind, or however that works. I hope Eliza's just around the corner or maybe he won't be paying attention as he walks in, but it's a possibility. Of course, he had a solution or two in mind for that. He wouldn't be the Hunter otherwise.

Jax didn't say anything for the duration of the trip, and even though Mordenna felt compelled to break the silence... what was there to say? That guilt in his gut made him stop from rambling disjointedly about what he had supposedly been working on, even if it'd make the whole lie more believable. In his mind, it would sting less for Jax when he eventually found out Mordenna had lied to him if he didn't hype him up so much. He just hoped he'd be able to properly apologize to Jax once this all sorted itself out.

They got to the door of the Proving Grounds, and Mordenna stopped by the panel of the door. Standing so Jax couldn't see him tap over to the option to force-close or open the door, he gestured grandly. "Well? Step on in—I'll handle the door."

"Very well." Jax walked over to the door, and Mordenna opened it up for him. As he predicted, Jax took a step in—and then his eyes widened, threatening to bug out of his head as he froze on the spot. Mordenna had to act, fast.

With a quickly muttered "sorry, bro!" Mordenna stepped back and then rushed forward, shoulder-checking Jax into the room. To make sure he'd make it far enough in, Mordenna put plenty of force behind it—enough that he could feel his brittle body complain and his shoulder ache. It was enough; Jax stumbled in, far enough to clear the door. Hastily, Mordenna rushed back over to the panel and closed the door, furiously tapping through the options until he was able to lock the door there. A few trips through the ship's code later and he locked the other door to the Proving Grounds—thank god that Wiki wasn't there to watch intrusions.

Heart racing and the guilt growing, Mordenna leaned against the door, listening. All he could do now was wait.

That left Jax on the other side of the door, and he was quick to back against it.

His own heart pounded in his ears as he fixed his eyes on Eliza, not registering anything more outside of her presence. She had Mordenna lure him here! He knew it. He avoided her for too long. Why did Jax think he could delay his punishment any longer than he had? Now it was coming and surely she would take into account his evasiveness when doling it out. He shouldn't have hid. He should have just presented himself! Was it not best to get it over with quickly? Yet he had ran, he had hidden himself away—

Eliza was approaching quickly and he could feel the dread and anxiety multiply. He was going to be punished. He was going to be punished. She had every reason to, he had been bad, he hurt her! He was sorry and he could feel apologies spill from his mouth but he knew it wouldn't be enough, it would never be enough, because he would never stop being bad and deserving punishment. It was his fault and it would always be his fault.

He couldn't even understand what she was saying. All of it, he knew, was preamble to the punishment. She had to cushion the blow, remind him that she still loved him even as she brought him to his hands and knees crying. If he was not afraid of her every word and step, every hint of anger or sour tone, then he did not respect her and he must be taught. Punishment would come. Punishment was coming.

She raised her hand and that was too much for Jax's panic, too much for his fear and terror. He flinched, turning away and shielding his head with his arms as he screwed his eyes shut.

He sat there, trembling, waiting for a blow that would assuredly come. It was only a matter of time. A time that was stretching further and further on, Jax's muscles tensed in anticipation. Yet, as each moment passed... nothing. Eliza had not struck him yet. She had not brought her psionics to bear, she was not doing anything to him. The silence was palpable as Jax's fear was steadily replaced with confusion. Sheepishly, he moved his arms just enough to crack open an eye and look at her.

Eliza looked, in a word, horrified. Now that he wasn't assuming the worst, Eliza's hand had not been raised in any threatening capacity—just reached out towards him. Was... was she not going to punish him? Slowly, realizing the undignified position he had taken, Jax began to straighten with shaking movements. Eliza retracted her hand, holding it close to her chest. Her look of horror softened into sorrow. "Jax..." Now that his heart wasn't drowning out all other noises, he could understand Eliza. "Did... did you think I was going to hit you?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but... by the way she was putting it, it was if the thought had never entered her mind. It was as if it had never occurred to her to punish him for what he had done, even if it was what she should be doing. Gathering his thoughts, he went to reply again. "—it's. It is what you should do. I... I h-have wronged you, Commander. I have hurt you. S-surely I deserve p-punishment." So much stammering. Even if he'd recovered slightly, he couldn't stop his hands from shaking.

She shook her head, approaching slowly and carefully. Jax didn't flinch away... for now. "Oh, Jax... You have it on my life that I would never, ever hurt you like the Elders did. I never want to emulate them—intentionally or not. You don't deserve punishment. What happened was... both of our faults, if anything. Even then I would rather say it wasn't either of ours."

"I..." He couldn't accept that. Not when he could still so clearly see her bleeding and crying, could still feel her shaking in his arms. "N-no. I should have been more careful, I should not have assumed—"

"Jax," she stated firmly, fixing him with a serious look. His breath caught in his throat and he stopped, staring at her. She lifted her arms. "I want you to pick me up. Right now."

Her demand caught him off-guard for a second, but he would not disobey a direct command. He reached down, gently picking her up with his hands underneath her shoulders. Once he had her at eye level, it was then she lunged forward. He flinched again, but this time his concerns were immediately abated—Eliza was hugging him. Her arms were wrapped around him and her hand had found its way into his hair, and she was close enough to his neck that he could hear her breathing. "Jax," she whispered. "Please, stop blaming yourself. I don't ever, ever want to lay hands on you with intention to hurt. You don't deserve that and you will never deserve that. I want to move on and heal, but the only way I can do that is if you do it with me, ok?"

For a minute, Jax simply held Eliza there, her words sinking into his mind. He wanted to say he was wrong, he wanted to struggle and be defiant, but... there was that young part of him that was tired of being afraid. Tired of being scared of her. She said she wants to get better. She doesn't want to hurt us. Don't wanna hurt. No. He... he did not want to suffer. He wanted to be close to Eliza, he wanted to share in comfort with her. He wanted to do right by her, and if doing right meant dropping his assumptions, he supposed he could.

Slowly, he moved to hug Eliza close to him, embracing her gently and closing his eyes, coming to sit down with her in his arms. "—ok. I... want to believe you, Commander. I truly wish to believe you. I..." There was something more he wanted to say, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He settled for something he could. "I trust you. I just... am used to such treatment."

"Regularity does not constitute acceptability, Jax." Her hand ran through his hair and he relaxed. He was always somewhat weak for hair pets. "Not on my ship. I want you to know that. I will never punish you like that. And I'll always be here to talk. Please know that I'll always make the time for you."

He nodded, leaning against the door and being mindful of her arms. She wouldn't hurt him like that. He just had to keep telling himself and eventually he would believe it. It wasn't that he took Eliza to punish him, but... there was always that fear, now. He tried not to think about it, but the one who set that precedent...

Jax hugged Eliza tighter. "... may we please stay like this?"

"As long as you need, Jax. I'm here for you."

He nuzzled into her shoulder, taking deep breaths. Eliza was here. Her psionics were familiar and soft, full of something that made his chest glow and warm. He was safe. She wouldn't harm him.

In the quiet atmosphere of the Proving Grounds, the Warlock and the Commander shared a moment as long as the day would let them.

---

Who knew that working on the last hope of salvation for your species would be so foreboding?

Well, Argus did, for one. The Avatar Project was something they always had a complicated relationship with. True, they were dying of the very same muscle degeneracy that their fellows were suffering from. The Avatar would be their only escape from a dying body—for as much as they wanted to do that, anyways. But what of when it was completed? It was no secret that Argus was detested by the rest of the Collective for just being the way they were. True, they had a somewhat conscious decision in it, but... they had hoped the circumstances would be clear to their fellows. Of course not, however.

So that all spelled out into a clear vision of what would happen once Argus finally completed the Collective's precious Project. They hadn't bothered to ask how many Avatars they should make—they figured it was best to work with the notion that they might be allowed to live after they had completed their greatest scientific feat. Besides, practice made perfect, and four Avatars for the first run was a good amount of practice. Well... technically five. One of them was stolen.

Thoughts turning, Argus brought up feeds of the Avatar facilities. Their little corner of the Void was set up how they liked; all conveniences close at hand, links to the facilities where they mapped out their research, and located in the most remote part of the Void they could possibly manage. No construct master were they, but they had even molded the shimmering form of the Void into a bit of a living space. On the screens in this little home away from home, Argus could see that progress on the Project was... tentative. XCOM had been a thorn in their side regarding the facilities. Were there no interference, Argus highly suspected they'd be done by now—and perhaps dead by now. Did XCOM know their continued interference meant that Argus had to pull from more "genetic donors" to replace what was lost? Did they know their prolonging of the war simply meant more disappeared civilians? Did Eliza know?

Argus didn't want to underestimate Eliza. Ever since she had discovered the Refinery, she probably knew that the more time she wasted, the more civilians that were used as fuel for the Project. It wasn't as if Argus fancied using humans in this—if First Contact hadn't been the mess it was due to "standard procedure," they could've had something... slower, but less wasteful in place. But, no, hostile invasion and Plan B it was. So long as Argus had to perform this dance to not get shafted, they supposed they would be party to every atrocity committed.

Speaking of atrocities... Argus, in a fit of self-reflection, called some files up that only they could access. The Siren files. They gazed long into them, thoughts running as they did. They were no saint. They were just as complicit in everything as the Trio were, as the Collective was. Even if these files had been equal parts misdirection... and Plan B. They supposed they didn't matter what they were now—Eliza had escaped, but not without being marked. The Chosen existed because of them. Did that not make Argus party to every sin committed afterwards? The abuse they faced? Argus was, honestly, glad the Chosen were out from under the thumbs of the Trio. No word on their hiding place being XCOM, but even Argus could say that what the rest of the Elders were doing was reprehensible. Of course, it was easy to throw stones when Argus had the emotional capacity to.

Some data on the Siren files caught Argus's eye and halted their thought process. Strange. They remembered there being one copy of a few of these files because Cronus needed a template for Jax-Rai. But here the information marked them as the only ones with no copies. Did Cronus finally tire of having them around near Jax-Rai's Ascension Facility? He didn't strike Argus as the type to clean house.

"Argus." That was Helena, communicating telepathically. She did not sound the least bit pleased. Argus felt dread settle over them. "We require you at the meeting spot. Now."

Her anger could be for any number of reasons, and while Argus didn't particularly want to find out... not going would only exacerbate the issue. Feeling a heavy sympathy for Ref-Il, Argus pulled the Void around them with the help of their Phantom and disappeared into the aether.

When they re-emerged where they were requested, Argus's concerns were, strangely, alleviated. All three of the Trio were here and they all seemed cataclysmically angry at each other. Not them. Angry enough that the normally Phantom-free space of their meeting point was currently being intruded on. Cronus's Phantom was out and doing a convincing job of trying to intimidate both of the others at the same time. Odin's Phantom—a myriad of Codices—looked like they were all seconds away from jumping on the others and beating the daylights out of them. Finally, Helena's Phantom, a simple image of herself, had its arms crossed and was bleeding off an aura of annoyance and anger. Argus could feel their Phantom retreat behind them, non-combative as it was. They hardly blamed it.

Now that Argus had arrived, the Trio's attention turned towards them. It was Cronus who spoke, running over the others verbally and drowning them out under his orchestra of a signature. "Argus! Tell these imbeciles that my plan was sound and if it had not been for the vile interruption of that bastard son of mine—"

Helena mustered her voice over Cronus, which Argus would've been impressed by in any other situation. "Your plan was doomed to fail from the start and cost us a facility and important data! How could you ever think it would succeed? Did you think to take a leaf from your son's book and simply not send guards?"

Cronus's Phantom turned fully towards Helena and roared as he projected himself as larger, towering over her. "How dare you compare me to that worthless whelp! He is not my son, not anymore! Did you put any plans in place when XCOM came for your Chosen's facility?! Did you, Helena?! Or did you sit idly by while more of our secrets fell to them?!"

While Cronus waited for an answer out of Helena, Argus watched as Odin turned his attention fully to him. "I would almost think no plan at all would be better than letting vital data remain in that location and installing a safeguard hastily cobbled together. It was sheer luck that Codex tripped it at all. Ah, but you've never been really successful, have you? Couldn't even kill your son right."

Wheeling on Odin, Cronus rushed at him. It was then that Argus's Phantom surged out from behind them as they held out an arm. Every Ethereal had different strengths in psionics—Argus's was telekinetics. Cronus was frozen in place along with his Phantom, arms out. Cronus was psionically strong but even he couldn't shake off Argus's absolute hold on him. When Argus spoke, they were measured and calm. "I can see why I was called here, to put it gently. Cronus, as much as I am the troublemaker of the Collective, I do not think they would look kindly upon you throttling your fellows."

Despite not being able to get out, Cronus still struggled against Argus's grip. "If it is completely deserved I would be excused! Do you not hear what spills from Odin's mouth?"

Argus shook their head. "He is not excused either. None of you are. It is clear that problems have arose and they need to be dealt with—but this is no way to go about it. What would the Collective say, should they be party to these shouting matches?"

Odin scoffed. "You're one to talk about being shamed in the eyes of the Collective, fool."

"Lash out as you might," Argus said, getting the ever tiniest spark of vindication as they went on, "but the truth of the matter here is that the three of you are reaching new lows if I am able to lecture you on behaving."

That was enough to send an embarrassed silence into the Trio. Wordlessly, Argus replaced Cronus back at his spot, and Cronus settled back down into a normal projection. Adjusting their robes to put all that behind them, Argus began. "It's clear we need an impromptu meeting to cover an event that has just transpired, as this doesn't strike me as the kind of confrontation from tensions boiling over. Thus, let me begin; Elder Argus, in attendance."

"Elder Cronus," he grumbled.

"Elder Odin," he muttered.

"Elder Helena," she sighed.

"Good. All Elders overseeing the matters of planet Earth are found to be in attendance. Now." Argus gestured to the three of them. "What is the subject of today's meeting?"

It was Cronus who took the chance to speak. "That wretched bastard came to his Ascension Facility and made off with his files, along with the files I had requisitioned from you."

Oh. That would explain that. It also meant that the Siren files were now in Eliza's possession. If Eliza hated them before, it must've reached new heights now. Suppressing a sigh, Argus nodded. "Then is this meeting regarding the defection of the Chosen?"

"Might as well be." Odin's Phantoms had settled and were now congregated around him, generally skulking like a gang of delinquents. "Just a few days ago we had to make Joseph release a broadcast telling the public we're no longer behind them."

"Not that it matters," Helena lamented. "The fact that they were taken from us and then summarily turned against us speaks volumes, even if the angle of them doing it themselves cushioned the PR blow."

"An... optimal measure, regardless." By the Void. They spoke as if the Chosen would have no reason to defect, and that was testimony to why they would. Having no empathy probably didn't help. It wasn't as if they could truly be familial in the first place if they lacked the true ability to do so. Sensing a need to follow up and continue the meeting, Argus clasped their hands together under their robe. "Are there any other measures in place to rectify and/or improve this situation?"

"There is hardly much more we can do outside of finally prising the Commander from the hole she has retreated to." Odin straightened. "We are being far too passive in regards to XCOM. I propose we launch multiple UFO initiatives."

Helena tilted her head up, as did her Phantom. "And what if they come to stop them? They have been expedient in halting our plans in the past."

"Simple. Misdirection." Odin spread out his hands. "Not all of them need be labeled as plans to launch UFOs. If given the choice between minor armor upgrades to our forces and plans to hunt the Avenger itself down, which one do you think XCOM will be pulled towards to stop? Yet the entire time, it matters not which one they choose—the UFO will come for them regardless."

As vile and spiteful as Odin was, Argus had to admit he was the best at underhanded plans like that. "That strikes me as a solid initiative, Odin. Would you be able to handle such a thing?"

"Dare you doubt me? Of course I can—and I'll make sure the mistake I created cannot see through the trick that is being presented to him. Nor the Codex that is party to XCOM, if it still lives."

Argus nodded. "If you are confident into leaning into those plans at full force, I have no objections. Are there any from either of you?"

Not a word out of the other two. Odin's plan was solid and very helpful to their goals. Still, as always, there was the bitterness of "why didn't I think of that" hanging in the air, hence their silence. Still, it was not a "yes" to a protest. Taking that, Argus nodded. "Are there any other matters that should be addressed?"

The Trio shook their heads. Really? All this fuss over their children rightfully fleeing from them? Argus was fully aware that entitlement was written into the Collective's veins, but the lengths at which it went to truly amazed them. Still, this was as good a chance to leave as any. Pulling the Void around them, Argus made to leave. "Then I call this meeting to a close. The Empire, Eternal."

"The Empire, Eternal," they heard back before they went, happy to be rid of the three of them.