XCOM: The Atlas Protocol

by Xabiar

After the destruction of the dreadnought, tensions between XCOM and the Council are higher than ever. Despite growing opposition and oversight, the Commander doesn't hesitate to push humanity further into uncharted territory, as well as dealing with an ancient global conspiracy, and a growing number of countries looking to take advantage of an invasion that is only just beginning.

36. Terror Attack: United States of America

Terror Attack: United States of America

---

The Citadel, Practice Range

Patricia had been slightly surprised to hear that Creed had been discharged so soon. Last she'd heard, they wanted to keep him for a couple more days to ensure that he was completely functional and there weren't any surprise side effects. Although from the sounds of it, he wasn't going to be deployed on any missions for some time yet. Maybe. She had the feeling that he'd insist if it became an issue.

Well, in that case she had a pretty good idea of where he'd be, even if she hadn't been able to sense his exact position. The first place he'd probably head was either the practice range or training area. But since she could sense where he was, she knew he was at the practice range from proximity alone.

Going into his mind that intrusively had created some unintentional side effects. A…connection felt like the wrong word, but it was to the point where she could sense his mind immediately as if he was standing right in front of her, no proximity needed whatsoever. It was more intense when they were close too; she prevented herself from sensing his exact thoughts…but just from his emotions, gestures, and the hundreds of things that ran through his mind all at once, she could almost always predict what he was going to do or say.

She'd deliberately avoided talking about what she'd seen, which had been helped by her being busy helping the Commander in her new role, which of late had been overviewing additional soldiers to be recruited. After that had been reading on all the essential documents, and she wasn't surprised that the hidden Internal Council documents were just as brutally straightforward as the ones released to the soldiers.

She was equal parts fascinated and disturbed to have learned just how directed this war was, and none of the soldiers knew about it. After reading the Hades Contingency, it hadn't taken long to link together what had happened in Germany. There was a propaganda war being waged against all sides that no one outside of a few people knew about, and that was why it was working.

The Commander was smart enough not to lie to his soldiers, which he'd told her he wouldn't do. But instead he just never gave any indication that his more questionable orders existed. She suspected that he was preparing for the Hephaestus and Demeter Contingencies and that made her…concerned. He was expecting a full invasion, and if the situation didn't change, she was wondering if he'd really go through with them.

She snorted to herself as she walked. What a question. Of course he would. He hadn't told any of them, but she could see the signs easily enough. Germany, Israel, Russia, Taiwan, Mongolia, and likely soon to be ASEAN and Turkey. He was moving towards something big, something that was going to affect the entire world, and she didn't see how he could do anything without starting another World War. The situation was too precarious.

Israel had a plan to subjugate the Middle East, China was mobilizing their military, North and South Korea had a tense peace at best, Brazil was now facing a full military coup, Russia was just waiting for the chance to annex their neighbors and United States was beginning to start their own secret projects. All it took was one of those to fall apart for all hell to break loose.

She shook her head. All these contingencies, protocols, worst-case scenarios and more were almost overwhelming at times. She was just glad that the biggest thing she had to do now was review and revise the part of the Atlas Protocol dealing with the military personnel. She cleared her mind of the distracting thoughts as she approached the door and entered.

Creed was currently shooting at a variety of moving targets, his gauss rifle never seeming to stop as it moved from target to target. His face and emotions reflected nothing but cold, calculating focus. He seemed to shut himself down when he picked up the gun, the only important things being his squad and the enemies trying to kill him.

She leaned against the wall, deciding not to interrupt him until he finished. After several minutes, the sounds of bullets striking metal, the roar of the gauss rifle, and the metallic scent in the air faded and silence fell over the range. Creed slowly lowered his rifle and observed his handiwork. Satisfied, he turned around and didn't seem surprised to see her watching him.

He looked much better now that he was out of bed. His face had color again and he seemed to have more energy now that he was moving around. He'd gotten new clothes too. The black XCOM fatigues were a new shade of black and not faded like hers, which made her think the medics disposed of them out of some irrational fear that he was carrying an alien contagion.

He was clearly unsure how to feel about seeing her right now, his emotions ranging from ecstatic to resigned. He likely knew what she wanted, no, needed to talk about, but wasn't looking forward to it even if he was happy to see her. She briefly considered psionically calming him, removing whatever concern he had about talking to her.

Because that's what he was worried about now. That something would change between them, and she did think it would, but she didn't think it would be a bad thing either. Still, she suspected that even if he was ever going to tell her about his childhood, it would be on his own terms and not due to her finding it accidentally. Not that she could blame him.

One thing that was ridiculous was this irrational feeling of worry, likely due to how she'd react to not being told. Yes, of course he'd wonder if she'd be mad at him for not telling him every traumatic moment of his life. Because of course that's who she was, a self-absorbed jerk with no respect for privacy.

Still, she got it to a degree. Fortunately he was the type not to focus on it. "Good shooting," she complemented, thinking that might interject some normalcy.

He nodded and slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Appreciated," he answered, beginning to walk towards her. "From what I can tell, I'm perfectly ready to go. What you did seems to have worked completely."

"Good," Patricia answered with a quick nod. "I did my best."

Creed pursed his lips, and she felt him fortify himself before he continued. "You said I was caught in a memory…which one? I can remember pieces, but not the whole thing."

Patricia motioned to one of the metallic benches that lined the walls. "Want to sit down?"

"Yes," he agreed as they walked over. "Good idea."

Both of them sat down, angled towards each other. Patricia took a breath and started talking. "It was in a house, mostly in the kitchen to be specific. There were two in there already, who I assume were your mother and brother."

"Ah," he winced and nodded. "She had a knife, yes? She was going to hurt him?"

"Yes," Patricia didn't feel the need to elaborate.

"So you saw that one," he continued quietly, looking away into the distance. "How was I…trapped in there, I guess?"

"You intervened," Patricia shrugged. "You killed her a few seconds after seeing her. You didn't let the memory finish the way it was supposed to. So it just repeated until you got it right." She paused. "You want to kill her, didn't you?"

"Not as much anymore," he sighed. "Depends on the context, if I saw her again threatening to hurt a child, then yes, I'd do so with no regrets. But I haven't seen her in decades, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"So…you stayed with her?" Patricia asked. "The whole time?"

"For a lot longer than I should have," he admitted, bursts of old pain appearing inside him. "It's hard to explain without experiencing it. But I guess I didn't know better, it was just something I accepted as normal. What you saw was my last memory of her. After that I was terrified that one of those times she was actually going to kill one of us and I didn't want that to happen. So I got my brother and we ran away."

Patricia blinked. "She didn't try to get you back?"

"Oh, she certainly tried," Creed chuckled without any humor. "But once the police became involved it was a much different story. Those months were a blur; all I specifically remember saying was that I was never going back. After the whole investigation, both of us were put in the adoption services for a time since there wasn't any family to take us."

Patricia looked over at him. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "Was she at least convicted?"

"For something," Creed shrugged. "I didn't care then and I don't care now. As far as I'm concerned, my mother is dead."

He said that, but she could still feel the simmering resentment within him when he thought of his mother. She hesitated, then finally just decided to ask. "What about your father?"

"Dead," he stated flatly. "Car crash when I was eight. I was in the car when it happened and somehow survived. Almost wished it had been the other way around sometimes, things certainly would have been different."

"How?"

"My mother wasn't always like that," Creed explained quietly, leaning back. "She was…normal, I guess. Loving. The crash changed her, and I did get the impression that she resented that I had lived. It became a lot clearer as I got older. But…well, it's not as though I could do anything about it."

"Oh." Patricia couldn't really imagine that. Sure, she'd had issues with her parents like every kid growing up, but she'd never doubted that they cared about her and only wanted her to be happy. She wasn't sure how she'd react to her own mother practically wishing she'd died, but…it wouldn't have been good.

She wondered how he could be so…normal after that.

Then again, how many abuse victims had she known before?

When that prior thought came to her, she erased that question from her mind. He'd probably respond as politely as ever, but it seemed…patronizing…when she thought about it. Why couldn't he recover and function like a normal person? People didn't get into the SEALs on pity.

"So you just…stayed in the system?" She continued.

His face was drawn, lips twitching as he answered. "Yes, though there wasn't much choice. Adoption isn't a fast process, and because of our ages and that we were siblings, that pretty much assured that we wouldn't get picked by anyone. People only want young children to adopt, it's just a fact there."

Patricia wasn't surprised by that, but didn't have anything to add that would help. "So what led you to the military?"

"I think I told you before," he answered, now looking back at her. "I wanted to help people. To protect them from people like my mother. The professions where I could remove criminals from the world legally was limited, and I eventually decided the SEALs would fit best. So I made that my goal."

Patricia frowned. His reasoning made sense, and with context now, even more so. But also with context came another question. "If you don't mind me asking…why military? Why not the police, or something more local? You'd be protecting people from criminals like your mother more…regularly, I would think."

He smirked at that, surprising her. "Patricia, I'd be a terrible cop. True, I thought about it, but I also knew that if I did join that I'd likely be discharged a few months later. You know those stories where a cop shoots an allegedly defenseless person? That'd be me. Because I don't really tolerate evil, I do something about it. If I caught an abuser in the act I wouldn't be thinking about arresting him, and certainly not thinking about reading his rights."

He raised a hand, index and middle finger pointed up, miming a gun. "Those kind of people don't deserve to live. Same idea if some idiot kid tries to shoot me, I'm not worried about taking him alive because he's trying to kill me." Creed let out a long sigh. "But that's not how things work. There are rules. Procedures. Criminals have rights. Justice is determined by how much money each side has. I can't work in a system like that; at least with the SEALs we can get rid of scum like that with no one knowing."

His apprehension was becoming more intense. He honestly didn't seem to know how she'd take all this. Holding opinions like that didn't exactly play well with a lot of people, even military, but even still he'd told her, figuring she deserved an explanation. She scooted over until she was right next to him and pulled him into a hug.

He was surprised at first, but quickly accepted it, wrapping his massive arms around her. It was still kinda funny how much larger he was than her. "Don't be so nervous," she chided quietly in his ear. "I understand completely."

Both of them broke the embrace and sat in silence for a few moments, looking contentedly at each other. Patricia chewed her lower lip unconsciously. If there was ever a time to bring it up… "There's…something I was wondering. If you answer, you have to be honest."

He cocked his head at her. "I think trying to trick you would be monumentally stupid. You can read my mind."

She scowled. "And also like I said, it's not as simple as that," she swallowed. "Anyway-"

The doors hissed open and several of the soldiers walked in, Endre, Carmelita and Alexei to be specific. Patricia resisted the urge to psionically order them out. Now? Did they really have to come now of all times? Creed was still looking at her expectantly. "'Anyway' what?"

Well, she couldn't have this talk with them around. "I'll tell you later," she promised, standing up, knowing that her skin was flushing and thinking she should probably get out before one of them noticed. "But…thank you for telling me this."

He gave an easy smile. "Oh, it's not a problem. I trust you, remember?"

Like family. She remembered, looking at him, not sure what else to say. Maybe more.

"I'll see you later," she promised, deciding she might as well get some work done until the next opportunity presented itself. "Get better soon."

---

The Citadel, Herman's Quarters

Herman frowned at Tamara's equally firm face. "They really had to do this now?"

"Correct," Tamara answered with a sharp nod. "I don't like it either, but since you've not exactly produced the results the Council has wanted, I don't have a sufficient reason to block it. The moderates are becoming concerned he's working to make them obsolete."

"Trust me," Herman emphasized. "No one knew about the Korean truce. None of the soldiers and certainly not me. Same with Taiwan."

"I know," she sighed wearily. "But since you're the only one of us who's actually worked with the Commander, that makes you ideal to reassure the rest of them there's nothing to worry about."

"Which may not be true," Herman pointed out. "I won't lie, but anything I say is likely not going to line up with any of your narratives. And if so, what exactly will happen? XCOM is in charge of this invasion now. To change that would be idiotic."

"You're telling this to the wrong person," Tamara said, her features pinched as she eyed him in some bemusement. "Tell that to them. And to answer your point, all of them know XCOM will be the front line of the invasion. But they wonder if the Commander should be leading it, regardless if he's followed the rules or not."

Herman pursed his lips. "Let me be very clear, Tamara. The Commander is not going to step down. Ever. He has the support of the entirety of XCOM. Excluding the soldiers themselves, that includes two women who could kill me with their minds, five cyborgs, a former NATO General, a former Triad operative, and that isn't counting Israel, North and South Korea and Germany. As well as the other countries he's allied with."

"Then tell them that," Tamara pressed. "They need to hear it to kill these idiotic delusions they have. Not that you really have much of a choice."

"Yes, yes, I know," Herman sighed. "I'll be sure to prepare to depart soon. Hopefully the Council will be a little more welcoming this time."

"Don't count on it," Tamara warned, her lips twitching. "Some of them really aren't happy with you."

He sighed, wondering how his life had gotten so complicated. "Tell them to get in line. See you in a couple days, Councilor."

"You too, Representative."

Herman closed the screen and looked around his sparse room. Well, best update the Commander of this new development. For some odd reason, he doubted the Commander was going to be particularly sad to see him go.

For now, at least. But he suspected he'd return relatively soon. He had unfinished work here, but for now, Lily would have to carry on without him.

---

The Citadel, Research Labs

"I'm not sure what to expect," the scientist preparing to bring Vahlen out of the psionic pod warned as he began tapping on a touchscreen on the side of it. "She's likely to be disoriented, especially if it succeeded."

"Noted," the Commander confirmed dryly with a quick nod. "Continue."

He stood, waiting while the man worked, Bradford beside him observing the coffin-shaped pod. "Do you think she noticed how…it looked when designing it?" He asked, crossing his arms.

The Commander snorted. "Probably not. She was probably just looking at it in terms of pure functionality."

"Of course she was," Bradford sighed. "Well, let's hope our soldiers don't find it similarly disturbing."

"I'm opening it now," the scientist called. "Stand by."

Both of them watched as the pod opened up, the top piece covering the head came up, and two sides opened out revealing Vahlen inside. She'd eschewed her regular lab attire for more practical and comfortable clothing, just a simple white T-shirt and gray shorts. Her head was tilted up, sensors attached all across her body and face.

The Commander immediately noticed two things: One, that her hair was down again, which marked the second time he'd seen it like that. Also, why had that been the first thing he'd noticed when the other was the tangible distortion around her body. He's seen that on Patricia, so it wasn't hard to draw conclusions.

Bradford evidently noticed the same. "I think it worked."

Vahlen's eyes snapped open and her mouth parted as consciousness returned to her. Her iris were a faint violet, though that faded in a couple seconds as well as the distortion around her. Both the Commander and the scientist stepped forward as she weakly pawed at the sensors on her.

"Easy, Doctor," the scientist said as he began taking them off. "It'll just be a second."

She didn't say anything, but didn't move as they worked. She tilted her head to the side to allow him to take the sensors off her face, before turning the other way to repeat the procedure on the other side. He was careful to be gentle, peeling each one off slowly and deliberately and letting them fall to the side.

He stepped back and Vahlen visibly steadied herself and tried stepping out of the pod. Yep, she was clearly disoriented since she practically stumbled out and would have fallen had he not anticipated that and positioned himself to catch her. She was rather light, though that was likely due to his enhanced strength than anything else.

She stayed that way for a few seconds, arms around him and face buried against his chest as he attempted to steady her. He felt her stiffen and then stand up straight again, looking more alive now. She still looked exhausted, but her eyes were bright and energetic now that she was back.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

She looked around at all of them. "Good….I'm…good, Commander," she winced and pressed a hand to her head. "Apologies, this is a little…overwhelming."

"I suppose that means it worked?"

"Yes," she smiled. "It did. It's…amazing. It's one thing to hear it described, but another to actually experience it…"

She trailed off, her face indicating she was far away. "Will this help us?" Bradford asked. "In determining more psions, I mean."

She blinked, shook her head to bring her back to reality. "Yes. Yes, for sure. I can put together a list of applicants within a few hours. This validated my theory, and we can use it to predict the likelihood of psionic sensitivity."

"Excellent work," the Commander complemented, smiling as it seemed things were going to turn for the better. "Though you should probably take a break. You've earned it."

She sniffed indignantly. "There are things to be done, Commander," she pointed out. "I'll manage fine, although…" she looked down at what she was wearing, pursing her lips. "I'll have to change into some more…appropriate attire."

Well, personally he felt she looked fine. But she was right, that wasn't good enough for a professional environment. Glad you agree, but remember we need to talk. Huh…that was not his thought, which likely meant…

He looked a Vahlen with a raised eyebrow, the extent of his response. She simply smiled in return. "I'll see you later, Commander," she said, turning away to go change.

Well, if there was one person he didn't mind doing that to him, it was Vahlen. Though he didn't exactly like how…easy it had seemed. Nor did he especially think she'd take Patricia's path and refuse to read him. She'd do it out of curiosity if nothing else. Yes, he'd have to ask her later just how much she could really do.

The Commander picked up his tablet and began scrolling through the list of soldier's he'd thought about psionically testing. Unlike the gene mods, he wanted to have psions he could trust and there were a few candidates available. Now all Vahlen needed was to run her…theory on them to see how high the likelihood really was.

"Good job, catching her like that," Bradford commented wryly, coming up beside him. "It must be nice having women throw themselves at you."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just settled on giving Bradford a "Really?" look instead, which only seemed to make him more amused. "If you wanted to do it, you should have said something."

Bradford snorted. "Would you have let me?"

"No."

Bradford chuckled. "It is interesting to watch you two, sometimes. Very oblivious, both of you."

"Shut up, Bradford," he sighed wearily, not wanting to deal with this now. "We've got actual important things to do. Such as Mongolia, remember?"

"Of course," he confirmed quickly, returning to business. "I'll get back to it."

---

The Citadel, Situation Room

"You read over the list?" The Commander asked as he looked down at the holotable, displaying a map of Asia.

Patricia gave a firm nod. "Yes, and think I know where we should focus on."

"Go ahead," the Commander nodded, motioning her to continue, looking up to give her his full attention.

"Psions are XCOM's most powerful asset at the moment," Patricia continued. "Do you disagree?"

Van Doorn shook his head. "No, you've proven that. As has the Ethereal."

"Same," the Commander agreed. "Although I'd argue that the MEC program has been invaluable."

"I'll get to that," Patricia promised, tapping her tablet. "But in the meantime, I think we should ensure that the psions that we have don't die. All that to say that they should be genetically enhanced as soon as possible."

"Will genetic modification be compatible with psionics?" Van Doorn asked, glancing at the Commander.

"As long as the brain itself isn't modified," he answered with a reassuring nod. "Skin, muscle, organs. Modifying those shouldn't be an issue."

"Yes," Patricia added, setting her tablet down. "And these genetic mods should be tailored to a degree for each soldier. I do have some suggestions for each, which goes with my system of psionic organization I've developed."

Van Doorn looked at the Commander. "Did I miss that?"

"No," Patricia shook her head. "I'm still writing the official document, since that's something all of you like. But similar to the specializations you've developed, it makes sense to apply the same to our psions, since the range of abilities is diverse enough to warrant it."

The Commander was impressed. Excellent, she'd taken initiative and already had something to show for it. Yes, it was definitely a good idea to bring her into the fold. "Good work. Explain."

Patricia clasped her hands behind her back and began addressing them in a way that showed she'd put some thought into this. "Based on what I've observed and learned, there seem to be roughly four areas that a psion can specialize in. None are mutually exclusive, per-se, but each individual seems to have a natural inclination towards a specific one."

Van Doorn nodded. "And the specializations are?"

"Telepaths, for starters," Patricia explained, cocking her head towards him. "Psions who are more inclined towards mind influence and the like. I'd fall under this category and from what you've said of Vahlen, she might now as well."

"But to be clear, telepathy isn't restricted to that specialty," the Commander said, wanting to make that clear.

She hesitated. "From what I've seen…no. I think each psion can utilize telepathy to a degree. Again, that varies from person to person. But some are more inclined than others, like me."

"Understood," the Commander nodded, waving his hand in a circular motion. "Continue."

"Then there are psions more focused are pure destructive capabilities," she continued neutrally. "Manipulating tangible energy to cause a significant amount of damage. I would think Annette would fall under this one. Unfortunately, I'm not sure she's a special case or not since we haven't seen anything like her."

"The Ethereal seemed to utilize destructive energy as well," Van Doorn recalled. "I think it's a reasonable assumption."

"I'm not sure we can fit the Ethereals into these neat categories," the Commander said slowly. "At the very least they are thousands of years old. Maybe more. But they've had enough time to master any kind of psionic powers they want."

"Correct," Patricia agreed grimly, her voice more subdued. "From what I saw, the Ethereal fits into all four of my categories to some degree."

"Then tell us the last two," Van Doorn said.

"Right," she said, returning to her speech. "I assume Annette told you of the so-called 'Furies'?"

The Commander nodded. "She did."

"From her descriptions, it seems like telekinesis is a viable specialization," Patricia continued. "From the psions we have now, I Alexei seems slightly inclined to it, though I don't know for certain yet. But it is possible, as we saw from the Ethereal."

The Commander recalled the Ethereal using it to pull soldiers to come to him and slam them against walls. Yes, it was a very real power that had almost unlimited potential. "And the final one?"

"Defense," she finished. "Iosif actually seems inclined towards it. It's essentially using psionic energy to defend instead of attack, like forming barriers, stasis fields, stuff like that."

The Commander nodded. All that made sense and the best thing he could see about her analysis was that each one seemed useful in its own right. Although he'd have been hard-pressed to think of a weakness for psionics. As far as he could tell, the only thing that could really challenge a psion, excluding surprise, was another psion.

"I suppose you've thought about this," Van Doorn said, scratching his chin with a hand. "But I'm curious; which do you think is the most useful or strongest?"

She hesitated, looking down as she thought of her answer. "I can't give a definitive answer to that," she finally admitted. "Honestly it'll come down to surprise, and how powerful each psion is. I think telepaths are more useful due to that they can be utilized outside of combat operations, but I don't think any one discipline is stronger."

The Commander agreed. He could visualize quite a few scenarios where two psions of differing disciplines faced off and both had clear paths of victory. She was also right about telepaths being useful in other ways. Ways he was considering utilizing when the time came. The world was still largely unaware of psionics, and that gave him an advantage against potentially troublesome political elements.

Although, there was little anyone could do to stop them even if they did know.

"Thank you, Patricia," the Commander complemented, inclining his head in her direction. "Finish up that document so we can get that into circulation when we awaken more psions. In which case, enhancing the ones we have seems like a good move."

"We should place both the sensitive ones in the pod," Van Doorn suggested. "We already know they're able, they just need to be pushed forward."

The Commander looked at Patricia. "Is that a good idea?"

"It should be fine," she answered slowly, leaning on the holotable. "From my understanding of how the pod works, it determines sensitivity and if there is, it…rewires the brain to draw it out artificially instead of naturally."

Van Doorn suddenly looked thoughtful. "Theoretically, if a psion was left in the pod for…let's say a week, would they be more powerful than someone in there three days?"

"Likely," Patricia answered, frowning as she eyed the General. "But too much overexposure might drive them insane after a certain point. I doubt it would be safe. EXALT somehow managed it and from the sounds of things, killed most of their subjects. Aside from that, experimentation is necessary to fully make use of abilities."

"Point taken," Van Doorn acknowledged.

"So currently we only have four psions, including yourself," the Commander continued, picking up his tablet and looking at the personnel files. "That will not put a dent in our resources, even if we completely enhance you. So what next?"

"Once the psions are taken care of, we have to do the same to the Internal Council," Patricia stated. "All of us are too valuable to risk getting killed, like it or not."

"Most of us don't see combat," Van Doorn pointed out, frowning at her. "With the exception of the Commander, that would honestly be a waste of resources. I'm fairly certain Vahlen only tested her pod on herself out of curiosity."

"Vahlen can use her test to determine the likelihood of psionic sensitivity," Patricia defended. "Aside from that, I'd argue it's at least necessary for you and Zhang. I get the feeling XCOM is going to become more public in the future and you're the face of it at the moment. It's not unrealistic to prepare for the possibility of an assassination attempt or worse."

"She has a point," the Commander nodded, glancing at Van Doorn. "Perhaps Vahlen and Shen could be lower priorities, but you, Zhang, even Bradford, I can easily justify being enhanced."

Van Doorn sighed. "We can determine that later. What next, Patricia?"

"Our MEC pilots," she continued. "I suggest they just be as enhanced as Myra. No more or less. So even if the suit doesn't protect them, they have a good chance to survive."

"Agreed," the Commander nodded. "I actually told Shen to include the modification with the surgery. It's taken care of."

She smiled. "Good. That leaves the rest of the soldiers. I have a list I think would benefit most from enhancement."

"I see it," he confirmed, looking at his tablet. "And I also have one for you to look over. We need to replenish our forces, so I've compiled a list of around forty soldiers who I think would be appropriate. Look over them and see if you agree."

"How did you get forty?" She demanded incredulously.

He shrugged, smiling. "A quarter are North and South Korean personnel. Taiwan was also generous with their selection. Add in the Council nations and our own allied countries, and it wasn't hard to come up with that number."

She rubbed her forehead as she looked at the daunting number. "This may take me a day or so," she warned, looking up at him. "What even is our barracks capacity?"

"Right now it's…" he glanced a Van Doorn. "Sixty? Yes, for now anyway. But it can be expanded if needed. Besides, I want to begin preparations for the Hephaestus Contingency, and that will include a sizable number of reserves."

Her arm lowered as she appraised him grimly. "You're really expecting an attack soon then,"

The Commander sighed. "It's inevitable at some point. If the aliens manage to get ahold of any of the councilors, our base isn't secret any longer. The Citadel will be attacked, it's only a matter of time and when it happens, I'd prefer we have a backup plan."

"Is the ultimate goal Phase 3A?" She asked.

That was good, it showed she actually read the document. "Ideally. But that will take months at least."

"There is another thing to consider," she added slowly. "They might not need to go through the Council to find us."

The Commander crossed his arms. "Explain?"

"You know I can sense people," she said, leaning against the wall, sighing. "But other psions…they stand out. A lot. My range is limited, but it's possible that an Ethereal could simply sense for psions and pinpoint us that way. Four psions in one area might attract their attention."

That was a good point…and a big problem. But the thing was, he wasn't sure how he could really counter that. Storing each individual psion in random places around the world to reduce detection was impractical, and couldn't be afforded. Like it or not, until he came up with some way of shielding psionic energy, that was now going to be a potential risk.

"I'm not sure there's much we can do about that," Van Doorn said, coming to the same conclusion. "Not until Vahlen determines some way to negate psionics."

"Yes," the Commander agreed. "She'll be working on that next. Though I'm not sure if they can really be stopped."

"Well, whatever she comes up with is better than nothing," Patricia said, pushing herself off the wall. "I can try to shield others from mind control or worse, but I don't know if I'll succeed. It's not like placing a shield over them."

"Nothing ever is these days," the Commander agreed with some amusement. "But this could be worse, I suppose. We know what to do now, so I suggest we get started. Van Doorn, tell ASEAN I'll be making a visit soon. That should make them happy."

"That it should," Van Doorn chuckled. "The Korean gambit was risky, but I think that's what it took to get them to come to you."

The Commander smiled as he turned down to the holotable. North Korea and Taiwan were taken care of, which left Mongolia and ASEAN. With any luck Bradford would set things up with Mongolia and if he could convince ASEAN of the viability of an alliance, that would box China in quite nicely. Should they still persist in causing problems, he was confident he could hurt them in the trade area, mostly by using their collection of alien tech as incentives for placing sanctions on the country. Although he had to be careful not to damage China too much, they still had a part to play.

Though not until they received some new management. But that was a problem for another day. After the Directive was initiated.

"Let's get to work," he said. "Dismissed."

---

The Citadel, Mission Control

"Question," Jackson asked as they both looked at the hologlobe detailing various hotspots in the world. "Are you concerned that the diversity in our soldiers will cause problems? I looked at the list of new ones coming in and…it's something that stood out."

"Yes and no," the Commander answered, looking down at her. "I expect there to be some animosity in the beginning, especially between the Koreans, but one thing I've also noticed is that a nation of origin isn't as big a deal here as elsewhere. It's harder to be angry at one nation when humanity itself is threatened. Puts it into perspective."

She bit her lip as she considered that. "True. It's kinda silly now that I think about it. We spent, no, spend a lot of time fighting each other for reasons that really seem pointless now."

"Humans are diverse, as are the cultures," the Commander shrugged. "Conflict will always happen."

"I suppose the question is what it will take to stop it," she commented thoughtfully, tapping the touchpad on the hologlobe stand. "Even now there are countries poised against each other. Justified or no, that isn't helping anything now. Isolation will kill us, as will misplaced national pride."

Hmm. Perhaps he could see what she thought of some things. "If there was ever a time for the UN to do something, it would be now. As it stand, the name rings a bit hollow."

"Do what?" Jackson looked with, her voice weary with resignation. "Form an actual world government? No nation is going to willingly give up their sovereignty, even if it is needed to survive."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think that's needed?"

"I.." she paused, clearly concerned she'd said the wrong thing.

"Go ahead," he encouraged. "I'm curious."

"I…don't think we have much of a choice," she continued quickly. "We can't rely on the superpowers to save the world on their own. America, China, Russia, acting alone the aliens will just target them down and eliminate them one by one. Coordination is needed, and the UN doesn't allow that. Sure, they'll pass resolutions for some joint action against the aliens, but they're not going to order soldiers from America to go to China."

"Because the UN has no weapons other than words," the Commander agreed. "NATO is useful, but it's in no way a powerful army, and mostly used to curtail Russian aggression."

"The UN needs to be reformed or replaced," she finally admitted with a sigh. "But I know that's not going to happen anytime soon. By the time it does, it might be too late."

That remained to be seen.

"That was interesting to hear," he told her, inclining his head. "Thank you for telling me."

"Thanks for not calling me crazy," she chuckled. "The UN is a touchy subject for a lot of people."

"Right," he agreed, looking back up at the hologlobe. "So Brazil, any updates?"

"The situation has stabilized, though the country is still on lockdown," Jackson answered. "However, Marshal Russo has contacted us, wanting to speak to you."

The Commander smiled. "How convenient, since I also wanted to speak to her."

Events needed to be put into motion now. Meetings needed to be set up before things became worse, as they no doubt would.

It was time to begin putting the first phases of the Directive into motion. But first the Internal Council needed to be brought up to speed on it. All of them.

"Hold off scheduling a meeting for the moment," he ordered, which she seemed surprised at. "And have Bradford schedule a meeting with the Internal Council within a couple of days. You are to come as well."

"Me?" She repeated incredulously.

"Things are going to change quickly after it," he explained, taking some amusement from how surprised she seemed. "You've proven yourself invaluable and Bradford agrees. You've earned a place with us and will be needed going forward."

"I…" she swallowed, and simply gave him a heartfelt salute. "Thank you, Commander."

"Commander! We've got a problem!" Bradford called, literally running to him, his eyes and voice filled with worry.

"What is it?" The Commander demanded, turning to face him.

"Jackson! Screen one," he ordered, and she quickly complied while he turned fully to the Commander. "New York is under attack."

"How many?" The Commander asked, picking up his tablet to prepare his soldiers.

"Unknown," he shook his head. "The White House just ordered marines into the city. There will probably be more coming. But building are collapsing and the people are being slaughtered." He handed him his tablet showing what looked to be a much larger version of a muton. The armor was red, heavier, and these mutons had helmets with masks that has spike-like attachments pointing up and to the sides.

"This alien was spotted attacking anything it could," Bradford continued grimly. "It appeared to be alone, but I doubt it's the only one. It get worse than that."

The Commander had a sinking feeling he knew what that was. "The Ethereal."

"Spotted near Central Park," he confirmed, his lips a thin white line. "I've warned the White House not to engage it. But as it stands it's running around unchallenged."

"Get everyone on this," the Commander ordered, finishing his squad deployment roster. "Let's hope Patricia is ready for this."

---

The Citadel, Hangar

Deep breaths.

They could do this.

So Patricia told herself as she geared up, sliding on her gauntlets, flexing her fingers, trying to ignore them shaking. There was a very good chance that this would be the last time she saw these barracks. These people. This world.

Don't think about that. You can win.

Could she? Both Alexei and Iosif had been put in the pods and had emerged with quite a bit more power at their disposal. But they were still new, still learning. They were going to fight an Ethereal. A being who was quite possibly thousands of years old.

How the hell could she stand up to that?

But she didn't have a choice. If she didn't, people would die. She glanced around the barracks at the soldiers gearing up, eyes lingering on Creed a little longer than the others.

People she cared about.

Their emotions were a mix of fury, resolve, determination. No fear. They didn't know they should be. This was just another alien. A bit more powerful, but it would die just like the others. And besides, they didn't have to worry, Patricia was with them.

She swallowed.

Her. They believed in her. That she'd be the one to lead them to victory. She was why they didn't believe this could be the end. And she couldn't exactly dispel that. They had to have some hope, as unrealistic as it was. She flipped her helmet in her hands, looking into the expressionless visor. The mask that had been the last thing many had seeing before dying.

Well, let's see how many she could add to that number before the night was fully over.

She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and she didn't have to turn around to know that it was Creed. "We're going to win," he promised, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Don't forget that."

"I know," she whispered softly, turning to him. "But-"

"Shh," he told her, raising a finger to his smiling lips. "None of that. Come now, how could we lose? I'm a SEAL and you can control minds, it can't get much better than that."

She had to chuckle at that. At least his attempts at humor were back. "Fine then, but you have to promise to follow my orders. If I tell you to run…run."

He nodded. "Look, I know this Ethereal is powerful. But you're going to need all the help-"

"No." She stated firmly. "This is my battle, mine and the other psions."

"We'll finish the other aliens," Creed promised, putting his helmet on. "Then we'll come for you."

She accepted that for now and turned to the rest of the soldiers who were geared up and ready to go. "Load up!" She shouted, marching towards the door. "You know your assignments, double time to the skyrangers!"

"Yes, Overseer!" They shouted and together all of them rushed towards the hangar. The two MECs were also getting loaded up. Patricia felt a little better seeing that massive Ballista-class, armed to the teeth with missile launchers and cannons. Even if Myra's somewhat smaller Marauder-class was more agile, pure firepower was comforting to her.

Alexei, Iosif, Fakhr Samuel, Creed, Yeva and Nazar all followed her into Big Sky's skyranger and strapped in and they lifted off in record time. The Commander wasted no time bringing them up to speed on the current situation. "I'll dispense with what you already know. New York is under attack by an unknown number of aliens. From the images sent, they appear to mostly be a variant of the mutons, but much larger and presumably more dangerous. There are probably more, but they're spread throughout the city. The NYPD and Marine Corps are beginning to make headway but they need support."

Patricia privately hoped the NYPD had done the smart thing and gotten the hell out of there. No police force could deal with the aliens. Even the marines were going to be lucky to make any headway whatsoever. But she had a different role to play. "Creed and Carmelita will reinforce the Marine guard and begin clearing the city," she stated. "Annette will accompany you to hopefully clear the aliens out quicker."

She'd debated bringing Annette with her team to face the Ethereal, but had ultimately decided she'd be more useful on the front lines. They needed at least one psion, and she wanted composed soldiers at her side when they fought the Ethereal. Annette was powerful, but she was still a loose cannon and lacked adequate mental defenses. Even Alexei could get into her head, and that wasn't promising. The last thing she wanted was to face a mind-controlled Annette.

That being said…Alexei and Iosif didn't have the strongest mental defenses either. They could withstand each other, and even her to a degree, but that might not be adequate when facing a psion much more powerful than them. As it stood, she wasn't sure it was a fair fight, even with the three of them.

Quite honestly, they were almost a distraction to prevent the Ethereal from ravaging the city unchecked. Hopefully they'd delay it enough so that the entirety of the soldiers and Annette could come reinforce them and drive it back. Kill it if they were lucky, but she wasn't convinced that the entire Marine Corps would be enough to win.

"Gray Sky will drop Myra and Sanya near the hot zones," the Commander continued. "Sanya will provide artillery support while Myra can deal with any closer encounters."

"We also have the Ethereal," Patricia added, suppressing her burst of worry. "Alexei, Iosif and I will do our best to contain it until reinforcements come."

"You can count on us," Carmelita assured her with a nod. "It's time for payback."

There was a chorus of agreement that she couldn't help feel emboldened by. They really believed she could do it, that they all could. Perhaps they could, perhaps they couldn't, but she'd do whatever it took to save as many as possible.

"Psion Trask, we're coming up on the designated LZ close to Central Park," Big Sky warned as she felt the skyranger dip and turn to the left. "Prepare to disembark."

"Copy," she nodded, standing. Iosif and Alexei joined her side as she felt their eyes upon her.

Respect.

Inspiration.

Hope.

Resolve.

That was what she felt from them. No fear.

So she used it. Let their emotions wash over her like water, taking solace in their faith that she'd emerge victorious. And as the skyranger dipped down, a calm descended upon her, a state of peace that remained as it hit the ground. As the ramp lowered, she stepped forward without fear, ready to face whatever this Ethereal had to throw against her.

"Good luck, Patricia," the Commander said.

The air rippling around her, the two psions at her side, she advanced into Central Park, holding onto the calm she'd gained. She took a breath, taking a moment to compose herself, and closed her eyes, sensing for the disturbances.

It hit her like a truck. The screams, pain, terror, all saturated the city in equal measure. The voices were a mishmash of babbles and yells, the emotions of terror and pain impossible to distinguish from each other.

And yet there was something very clear, a well of pain and power so vast it was impossible to miss.

The Ethereal.

Her eyes popped open and she pointed forward. "This way," she ordered, raising her autorifle, her voice slightly distorted from her helmet and psionic trance. "We follow the bodies."

---

South Brooklyn, New York City

"We're coming in hot!" Burning Sky warned as the skyranger dipped sharply. Annette could hear the gunfire and explosions even inside it. Surprisingly, she felt calmer than she should be. Maybe it was because she'd faced trials no person should have endured, and came out sane. Intrinsically, she knew that charging into a suicide mission was…well, suicidal.

But she'd done the impossible before. She could do it again.

It helped that she was surrounded by people who were willing to fight and die for their species. Her hand rested on the pistol she'd been given, a traditional weapon they'd insisted she have in case she couldn't use her psionics. Since a pistol was the only weapon she was slightly familiar with, she'd taken it. Anything larger would just slow her down.

She didn't really think she'd be shooting much either.

"What's the situation?" The South Korean demanded. Carmelita. That was her name. Annette wasn't as skilled as Patricia in sensing thoughts and emotions, but the pure contained hate inside her was impossible to miss. Annette was almost sorry for the aliens facing her.

"Twenty, maybe thirty soldiers are fighting two of those large mutons," she answered, pulling the skyranger into a sharp turn. "It's not going well."

"Circle around and open the ramp!" She ordered, marching to the end by her. "Gray Sky! Drop off Myra and Sanya behind me! Burning Sky, land by the marines!"

"Copy that," Burning Sky answered, the ramp already lowering giving Annette the first taste of the city. Screams and gunfire reached her ears instantly, along with the acrid smell of smoke. The gray skyscrapers were all around her, dwarfing everything underneath them. She'd always had New York as one of her places to visit.

But not like this.

Carmelita charged out and dropped to the ground, while Burning Sky brought them to the ground, marines already moving to provide them some covering fire as they charged out. "Go, go, go!" Latrell shouted and all of them charged out into the street, bullets and gobs of plasma flying around them.

Burned out cars, bodies and rubble littered the streets. Fires raged all around the nearby buildings, inside the cars, and people trapped on the upper floors were yelling in terror as the blazes spread. The marines were taking positions behind the cover the ruined streets provided, but after Annette saw the aliens themselves, realized that they were in an almost hopeless situation.

Standing in the open with no regard for cover, two massive aliens were firing indiscriminately around them, wielding massive plasma cannons that had to have been as tall as her. They were just shorter than Myra, and appeared to be built of pure muscle as well. Their armor was a deep red, covering every inch of their bodies.

A trio of civilians tried to run away and were instantly gunned down by one of the mutons, the force of the plasma rounds nearly vaporizing the bodies. Their armor sparked as the marines' ballistic fire hit it, but the rounds simply glanced off and lacked the power to punch through the alloy plating. Carmelita had landed close to the duo, and was spotted instantly, one of the mutons unleashing a devastating barrage on her, forcing her behind a nearby building.

"Covering fire!" Latrell shouted, unleashing a hail of bullets from his position behind a truck. He was quickly joined by Cai and Jamali, allowing Yeva, Veronika and Blake to get in closer to get better shots on the aliens.

Myra hit the ground a short distance before the leftmost muton, shaking the ground with her descent. "Initializing flamethrower."

Annette witnessed her raise her robotic fists and engulf the muton in a cone of blue and orange flame. It roared and stumbled back, forcing it's friend to turn away from Carmelita and focus on the MEC. This was her chance to get in there. She recalled everything she'd endured, the anger, pain and terror that had sustained her and given her the resolve to fight back.

She allowed the overwhelming emotions of the terrified people around her to enter her, and she focused that into power, a burning vengeance for what was happening here. The power manifested itself around her, wreathing her gauntleted hands in corrosive energy, scorching her armor and dissolving her skin.

She gritted her teeth and raised a hand toward the right muton, the one forcing Myra back with its barrage of plasma fire. Carmelita was firing blasts from the alloy cannon, but didn't seem to be doing much damage. Annette dashed forward, slid into cover behind a fallen concrete column, and after taking a second to compose herself, stood up.

Golden blood now stained the red armor, but it seemed not to slow the mutons in the least. The scorched one seemed fully recovered and was firing at Myra who was taking some glancing shots. Carmelita fired a blast into the legs of one and it roared and fell to one knee.

Annette drew her right hand back, placing the other on her chest as she gathered the swirling energy around her around the right one. It grew in intensity, sparking and writing around her, burning her arm like acid. When she could hold it no longer, she thrust the hand forward, shooting a violet stream of energy towards the wounded muton.

It slammed into its head, ripping away the ornate helmet and boring through the skin behind it. It didn't even have time to roar in pain as the lethal energy ripped the head apart instantly. Annette fell to one knee, slightly dizzy from using that much energy. But it was done, and the headless corpse fell to the ground.

"Focus on the last one!" Carmelita shouted, charging the muton currently in a standoff with Myra.

"Reinforcements coming in!" Blake shouted, giving Annette a brief heart attack, but she heard the roar of a skyranger and realized it was XCOM reinforcements. Likely those still remaining after Patricia and her team was dropped off. She let off a whoop and returned to focusing on the muton.

The hail of bullets was starting to take its toll, as Annette saw streams of ichor leaking off of it, but this only seemed to enrage the alien, and it suddenly stopped firing, and turned towards the mass of soldiers firing at it. Annette raised her hand and closed a fist, directing the energy to focus on the alien.

It was suddenly engulfed in tearing bands of energy, ravaging what remained of its. She gritted her teeth as she continued directing the power, knowing it could only last a few seconds. The muton let out a loud roar and pulled something from its belt and tossed it towards the soldiers."

"Grenade!" Veronika yelled, dashing from her cover. It was aiming towards Cai and Yeva and Annette realizing that they might not make it. Even as both of them jumped away from the spinning projectile, they didn't escape the blast radius as the grenade exploded in a ball of green energy.

Yeva was thrown back, parts of her armor gone and clearly injured, but it looked like she was alive. Cai wasn't as lucky. The blast shredded his armor and virtually cut him in half, killing him within a few seconds. Annette finally lost control of the direction sank to the ground, trying to regain her energy.

But it was enough for Myra to charge in and slam the muton to the ground, it too wounded to put up a substantial fight. Pinning it with a metal foot, she lowered her cannon and blasted it in the face several times, turning its head into pink mush.

Relative silence fell over the battlefield, even as the screams sounded in the distance.

Blake began rushing towards Yeva to treat her wounds, and the rest of them took up overwatch positions as the marines began regrouping. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder. "You alright?" Latrell asked, concern emanating from him.

"Fine," she breathed, walking over to where Carmelita and Creed were, talking to one of the marines. "I'll be fine."

He accepted that and both of them walked over to the small group. "What's the situation?" Latrell asked as they came up.

"Bad," Creed answered grimly, greeting them with a nod. "There are reports of firefights across the city."

"Good job with that muton," Carmelita commented, then motioned to the marine. "This is Gunnery Sergeant Davis."

"I'm organizing the military response to this," the bearded man stated. "What we can, anyway. I'd hate to think what would happen without you."

"Thank us later," Carmelita reprimanded. "We need to move in. Where do you have your men?"

"I have detachments entering at the major entrances," he answered, pulling out a map. "There are two teams entering Staten Island, two entering Queens and two more heading towards Times Square. I've lost contact with all teams there, though."

Creed and Carmelita exchanged a look. "That's where the Ethereal was spotted. Your soldiers are probably dead," Carmelita stated bluntly. "But we need to move in now. You don't have the firepower to take these aliens out."

"I've called in tanks to reinforce us," Davis stated. "But you're right-"

The ground shook behind them and all of them turned as one to see one of the massive skyscrapers in the distance slowly collapse in front of their eyes. "We move now!" Carmelita ordered, waving the soldiers towards the area where the skyscraper had collapsed. "Come on!"

Annette quickly broke into a sprint as they charged forward to protect the city.

---

New York City, Near Times Square

It felt and looked like she was going through a nightmare.

Hundreds of corpses littered the streets, their faces contorted in utter pain and terror in death. Most of them were curled up, trying to ease pain that came from everywhere. Others had died in crashes, hundreds of cars forming a steel block in the streets. Even more were crashed into buildings, killing even more.

But what was most disturbing to her was that she didn't sense anyone. Everyone near her was dead.

Follow the bodies.

So they did.

Patricia looked down at the corpse of a police officer, his skin warped and melted, which likely meant that the Ethereal had killed him personally. There were more like that. Every odd person was killed in a more tangible way. Some had also seemed to commit suicide, if the self-inflicted gunshot wounds and slit throats were anything to go by.

Both Alexei and Iosif were silent as they walked through the mostly bloodless carnage.

"How close are we?" Iosif asked quietly.

She paused and quickly sensed her area. The well of power and pain was still there, impenetrable but close. Waiting. He knew they were there. Psions could sense each other, and he had to have known they would come.

But she was more concerned that they were expected.

"Close," she answered quietly, continuing forward.

The sheer scale of the buildings around her was amazing, it made her feel small. Insignificant. She could only imagine what it was like normally. Before it turned into a death trap. It was eerie in a way, excluding the carnage on the street, and a few fires here and there…it was almost normal. The lights still ran, screens still run, and she could see the lights of Times Square in front of her.

She held up a fist as she saw a lone figure in the center of the street. Surrounded by flaming cars, corpses and rubble, the being she assumed was the Ethereal stood alone, his back to them. It was almost exactly like the image she'd seen. A towering, robed alien with a corroded and damaged helm. Two hands were raised in the direction of one of the buildings, purple distortions around the limbs.

Patricia didn't know what he was doing, but she didn't want to give him a chance to finish it. "Throw something at him," she said quietly to Alexei who nodded and began looking around for an appropriate projectile. After he'd emerged from the pod, it had quickly become apparent that he had some skill with telekinesis and had spent an extreme amount of time lifting various objects. He couldn't really manipulate them that well, but he could throw them at terminal speeds.

They were nearly thirty feet from the Ethereal now. Patricia aimed her autorifle at the alien, beginning to telepathically communicate 'now' when a wave of pain rushed over her. Hot needles stabbed into her back and she let out a gasp before realizing the psionic influence around it.

Oh no you don't.

The Hive Commander had tried to block unwanted influence, but fortunately she was more successful and had also taught it to both of them and after a few gasps from Iosif and Alexei, they straightened back up and refocused on the Ethereal. Patricia didn't even think that was a coordinated attack, just an effect of being around the alien. But if that was what these people had felt…no wonder they'd died like that.

But the element of surprise had been lost, so all of them moved at once. Alexei motioned towards a jagged steel beam which levitated a few feet off the ground, the air around it and his hand distorted and warped. Interesting that the purple residue of psionics didn't seem to accompany him like the rest of them.

Alexei shoved his hand forward, propelling the spear of metal towards the Ethereal, and at the same time Patricia and Iosif opened fire with their weapons. Now the Ethereal reacted instantly, a third arm emerged from the robe, palm raised in their direction. The beam stopped a few inches from the hand, as did all their gauss rounds.

A thundering crack sounded and Patricia watched in amazement and horror as the building the Ethereal had been facing began to collapse, taking all the nearby buildings with it. His job done, the arms withdrew within the robe and turned to face them directly. They kept firing but the Ethereal simply stared them down, not letting their weapons affect him in the least.

This isn't working. She communicated to Iosif and Alexei. Let me try something.

"You are beyond the need for such trifles," the Ethereal said, making Patricia grit her teeth as that awful voice sank into her mind, oozing with psionic power, worming its way into the deepest confines of her mind, ensuring she'd never forget it. Even with her filtering out the worst aspects of the Ethereal's influence, it did little to quiet the awful wail of its voice.

He extended a hand from the robe and her weapon flew out of her hands and skidded to the ground just before the Ethereal. Alexei and Iosif received the same treatment and immediately moved to new forms of defense. Iosif's hands were wreathed in purple energy, preparing to defend against the coming attack.

Alexei's hands were at his side, palms turned upward as several small pieces of stone and steel levitated around him. Patricia readied her own assault on the Ethereal's mind. Said Ethereal looked at all of them, bemusement, or some equivalent emanating off of him.

"You have power," he said stepping forward, another hand emerging for the robe, a swirling ball of energy forming in the palm. "But you lack experience. You lack direction."

He thrust the hand forward, shooting the ball of energy directly as Iosif who raised his hand, a small shimmering purple shield appearing in front of him which absorbed the purple ball of energy. Alexei pushed forward and threw all his levitated objects at the Ethereal who simply looked at them and they stopped frozen in mid-air.

Another arm emerged from the robe and pushed at Alexei who was thrown back and slammed against the far wall. Patricia focused directly on the Ethereal's mind, probing for some sort of weakness, a hole she could push. But it was like breaking into a safe, there was no easy way inside. Iosif made a collapsing motion with his hands, and the Ethereal was suddenly encased in a shimmering purple prison.

It was distracted for one brief second and that was all she needed. She broke through the first layer, almost overwhelmed by the rush of pure alien feelings she had no description for entering her mind, thoughts in languages she couldn't begin to comprehend. And she hadn't even broken into his mind, not really. This was simply just the surface.

But she could work with that. All creatures felt pain, and now she could unleash some of that on him. She pushed one simple concept on him, a decree that the mind would determine how effective it was: You are dying slowly and painfully.

She pressed that upon him, and the Ethereal screamed. A scream that caused all of them to clutch their helmets in a vain attempt to make it stop. The air around the Ethereal rippled, purple strands appearing and disappearing like lightning and she thought that she'd weakened it.

Until she was suddenly closed off and thrown out of the mind. That shouldn't have happened! That should have at least debilitated him until-

Now it was her turn to start screaming as every inch of her body was suddenly scorched, cut, broken and more. She collapsed to the ground, moaning as the Ethereal broke through her mental defenses and redirected her attack back on her. It took every ounce of concentration not to let the pain consume her, so prevalent was the instruction in her mind. She still heard his voice even as she suffered.

"Foolish human," he said, the voice heard through her ears and in her mind. "You lack imagination. Pain is only an effective weapon against the susceptible. The weak. You have no concept of what causes lasting pain for beings like us."

"Quiet!" She screamed, slamming a fist into the unforgiving concrete, a purple shockwave emanating from where it hit, sending everything with the radius a short distance back. The pain receded slightly and she used that to try and regain control of her mind. She couldn't completely block the pain, but she could limit the debilitating parts.

But there was still some, it still covered her body. But it was manageable. It was in her head. It wasn't real but it could be used. With a yell she stood up slowly, shaking but doing it. Both Alexei and Iosif were on one knee, similarly debilitated and fighting it. There was no time for them to recover.

She first entered their minds, pushing through their shattered defenses. Get up. She ordered, pushing her will onto them until they stood with her, ready to continue fighting the Ethereal who simply watched.

"Well done," he congratulated. "But insufficient." Two arms emerged from the robe, purple energy curling around them and they were aimed at her. Purple wreaths leapt towards her at lightning speeds, which she couldn't avoid in time. But she was saved when a small shield appeared in front of her, blocking the energy from consuming her.

While Iosif protected her, Alexei was still throwing objects at the Ethereal in an attempt to distract him. In the brief time she was allotted to recover, Patricia redoubled her attack on the Ethereal's mind, pushing now a much simpler command. Cease.

It didn't work, but the energy stream faltered slightly and she pushed at the mind again and again. She repeated the command more times than she could count, hoping that one would get through.

The stream stopped. Iosif fell to one knee beside her and the Ethereal looked at her, a slight admiration emanating from him. "Well done," he said, stepping towards her.

Distract him.

Alexei. She sent an affirmative and decided a different tactic. "What are you waiting for?" She demanded, taking a ready stance. "What do you want from us?"

"Proof," the Ethereal hissed, the air around him rippling once more. "Humans have a sentimentality to the innocent that is predictable. I wanted to see what could defeat a Hive Commander.I wanted to see what could convince one of our own to betray us. I want to see your reputation justified, psion."

Iosif was standing back up and Patricia looked up into the torn helm of the Ethereal. "We are not experiments," she hissed, her vision turning purple. "We are not pawns for you to simply observe and discard."

The Ethereal looked down at them. "That remains to be seen."

Now.

Alexei. Iosif once more entrapped the Ethereal in a cocoon of energy and Patricia focused everything she had on imposing one command.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

The Ethereal let out a roar as a jagged piece of metal sprouted from its chest . Patricia and Iosif were blown back by a sudden expulsion of energy and Patricia watched, terrified and amazed as Alexei was suddenly suspended in the air behind the Ethereal, a hand raised towards him, and two more pulling the bloody piece of metal out of the body.

Stay.

Stay.

Stay.

Patricia hissed and tried to fight the command that the Ethereal was pushing down on her, preventing her from doing anything but watching as he turned around, the same metal beam now aimed at Alexei. She groaned and shuddered, but her limbs were like rocks, unable to move without her mind cooperating.

The beam shot forward, impaling Alexei in his neck, and his body was slammed to the ground when the Ethereal thrust his hand down.

Stay.

Go.

Stay.

Go.

With a shout she broke the mantra and shakily rose to her feet once more. She needed to breathe. With shaking hands, she reached up and unlatched her helmet and let in fall to the ground, taking in the sounds, smells and sights of her unobstructed vision. The Ethereal was still in front of her, still waiting.

Toying with her.

With them.

Iosif had also recovered and both of them exchanged a look, resolve filling both of them. If they were going to die, they would buy as much time for the city as possible. All they needed to do was buy a little more time for Annette and the soldiers to win.

Patricia turned her purple-tinted gaze to the Ethereal as she gathered what remained of her power. Time to give the Ethereal a fight it wouldn't ever forget.

---

Bronx, New York City

They'd essentially left the marines to begin organizing the evacuation as they ran through the streets. Annette had no clue where they were going, all of the city seemed a maze to her, but Carmelita and Creed seemed to know well enough. They didn't spend too much time helping the cowering and shell-shocked civilians they saw, but if they ran past at least one of them would shout to get moving.

"It's clear behind us!" Annette yelled at a couple looking up at them, not sure if they were friendly or not. "Get moving!" She added a small psionic suggestion, making them start dashing behind her.

The aliens must have come through here, if the carnage and destruction was anything to go by. Annette was slightly concerned that one of the buildings would fall due to how bombed out some of them looked. At least some of the bottom floors were scorched, cracked and ruined to a degree that could only come from heavy weaponry.

The booming of a firing tank caught all their attention, and Carmelita immediately motioned them towards the sound. As they got closer the weapon and plasma fire became audible and close. There were still screams, but not as many as before. Which probably wasn't a good sign.

"Three of them ahead!" Lesedi shouted, falling to one knee and raising her gauss sniper rifle.

Annette looked forward to see she was right. Her heart sank as she saw not three, but six of the red-armored mutons creating a makeshift stronghold in an intersection. They'd stacked several cars on top of each other to provide some cover for their massive bodies.

"Scatter!" Creed ordered as three of the mutons turned to them and began opening fire.

Annette slid into cover behind a wrecked truck and peeked out. Creed, Nazar, Blake and Jamali were beginning to lay down some suppressive fire while Carmelita and Veronika took the opportunity to get closer.

"Assuming barrage position," Sanya said from behind her. Annette glanced back at the other MEC, once more amazed by how massive it was. There was a large cannon built into its back, and the arms and shoulders were packed with what she assumed to be missile launchers. It was actually bigger than Myra's, who was also firing at the mutons.

After he said that, clamps came down from the sides of his feet, anchoring him to the ground. He raised his right arm, the launcher whirling and clicking into place. "Firing barrage."

Three missiles shot out in quick succession and the smaller ones on his shoulders all fired simultaneously, ultimately sending nearly a dozen streaking explosives at the congregated mutons. Annette and several others let out a cheer as the area where the mutons were holed up went up in a booming symphony of fire and death.

She felt several die as they were struck by missiles and shrapnel, their minds unique enough for her to tell when they ceased to function. But there were still some alive, albeit wounded. "Four are left!" She yelled, standing up and gathering her power once more.

"Lock it down!" Creed roared as they simultaneously renewed their suppression of the surviving mutons, who were now all turned to fully face them. Their armor was scorched, dented, broken and bloodstained, but they showed no weakness as they returned fire vigorously.

Annette raised her hands to one of the mutons in the front, locking the location in her mind as the power ran through her. With a shout she unleashed the energy built inside her, direction it around the muton. It roared in pain as the energy began to tear the body apart, swatting the ethereal tendrils to no avail.

Her world narrowed to the screaming alien, the sounds of combat fading in her mind as she amped the intensity, breaking into its basic mental functions, amplifying every moment of pain beyond what it normally felt.

But it was taking too long. Superficial damage. It needed to die. She clenched her fist and directed the energy to manifest inside the muton itself. Within several seconds the alien fell to the ground and she released hold of the power and sank to the torn asphalt. Even as the battle continued raging around her, she took a moment to compose herself as everything swam in her field of vision.

She didn't know how much more she could do. A scream perked her up again and she peeked over to see that Nazar had been hit in the face by a plasma blast, throwing his body onto the ground. He was dead. She looked at the other mutons, and noted that another one had died from their attack.

A tank fired and though she couldn't see it, she saw its effects. One of the mutons stumbled to the side, golden blood gushing out of a new wound from the tank blast. It roared and turned to the offending vehicle and started firing.

"Moving up!" Lesedi called and dashed forward to get a shot lined up.

"Drop!" Samuel shouted as the muton still focused on them anticipated her move and fired in her direction. She heard the call too late and a large green bolt slammed into her chest and she spun to the ground.

Annette quickly tried sensing her. Yes, she was alive, but in pain.

"Get her help!" Annette called.

"On it!" Blake answered.

"Take that thing out, Myra!" Carmelita ordered as she continued firing barrage after barrage from her alloy cannon. These things just wouldn't die.

"Complying," she confirmed, and charged towards the last two, knocking one to the ground and following up with blast from her gauss cannon.

The combined firepower of Creed, Carmelita, Samuel and Veronika was enough to finally bring the last muton to its knees, and Carmelita finished up with two point-blank shots to its head.

"Clear!" She shouted, after looking around the street. All of them charged forward, and Annette blinked as she saw what remained of the marine detachment that had been sent here. They seemed to be almost completely wiped out. Their ranks were filled with dead soldiers and she saw at least four tanks that had been essentially disabled.

A trio rushed up to them, which Carmelita turned to face. "How many of you are left?" She demanded.

"Twelve and one tank," the ranking one answered grimly, his face splashed with grime and blood. "We would have died if you hadn't come."

"We'll handle the aliens," Creed assured them, walking up. "Focus on getting the civilians to safety. More reinforcements are coming."

"Are there any more hotspots?" Carmelita asked.

"I think these were the only ones in the Bronx," the marine answered slowly. "But I don't know for sure. There were probably some elsewhere. Maybe Times Square or Central Park."

An explosion echoed from somewhere behind them. "Guess that's where we're headed next," Creed muttered. "They have to be running low."

"Hold that order for the moment," the Commander suddenly interrupted. "Annette how are you holding up?"

She blinked. "Uh…alright. Sir!"

"Don't lie, I need to know."

She sighed. "I'm not sure how much more I can do."

"Thought as much. Carmelita, take a team and finish mopping up. Everyone else go help Patricia and Iosif. They need support now."

"Understood," Carmelita confirmed.

"I'll take Annette, Veronika, Myra and Sanya," Creed said, turning towards Times Square. "I'll also have our marine reinforcements coverage there as well. All goes well we should get there at roughly the same time."

"Sounds good," Carmelita confirmed. "Everyone else with me! Let's finish these aliens!"

As they dashed off to the next pod of enemies, the rest of them dashed in the opposite direction. "Get there as fast as possible," Creed instructed both MECs. "We don't have time to spare!"

"Acknowledged," Myra nodded, and both MECs dashed off ahead of them, far quicker than what they could keep up with.

One more fight. She could do it.

She had to.

---

The Hive Commander had been trifling compared to this.

The Ethereal could probably have ended the fight relatively soon, but instead seemed content to keep shooting energy at her while simultaneously trying to dominate her mind. His mind was continuously assaulting her splintering defenses, requiring her to stand there and focus all her energy on simply keeping him out.

If not for Iosif taking most of the physical assaults, she would have died or lost her mind. As it stood the pain that ravaged her body had finally reached a point where she was almost numb, she felt her skin on fire, she felt her limbs crack and break, but managed to lock it away as she focused on preventing the alien from taking complete control.

Then the pressure suddenly receded and the sights and sounds of the world came back in a rush as she fell to the ground. She hadn't even noticed everything had gone dark, so preoccupied was she with the Ethereal. Everything seemed brighter, more piercing.

Her entire body shaking, she somehow managed to force herself to stand and face the towering Ethereal once more, who looked down on her dispassionately. "You are resilient, psion," he hissed, some grudging admiration emanating from him. "You know you cannot beat me, yet you persist regardless."

"Shut up," she spat, gathering what energy she could for another assault on his mind. "I thought you were powerful, yet you can barely stop us."

It laughed, a sick, twisted laugh, filled with pain and terror in equal measure. "You do not believe that, psion. Insults are not weapons. You cannot hurt me and your words even less so."

"Your wounds show otherwise," Patricia shot back, directing her focus on the Ethereal, trying to box its mind to stop it from an attack on her or Iosif.

"Bodies can heal, psion," the Ethereal stated coldly, the words echoing in her mind. "This pain is nothing compared to what I've endured before."

Patricia tried and tried to break into his mind, but it was simple.

She just wasn't strong enough.

She was too weak, too tired to realistically get through.

"That is correct," the Ethereal whispered, malevolence seeping through his tone. "You are not. What are you hoping to achieve in my mind, psion? Would you even comprehend the things you saw? Would you even retain your sanity?"

He reached a hand toward Iosif and his body was suddenly lifted into the air and tossed backwards into a far wall. Patricia sensed he was alive, but he wasn't going to help her anymore. She was suddenly pushed out of the Ethereal's mind, and then trapped in her own. Its presence was on the edges, blocking any kind of psionic telepathy.

It was like losing one of her senses.

Then just as quickly, it withdrew.

"I see," he mused, watching her fall to one knee from exhaustion. "Yes, you want to kill me. But you are also…curious. You want to know what we are, you want to understand how we think. What drives us."

To her surprise, he lowered himself to her level and extended a hand to grab her by the throat. With little effort, he stood, taking her with him, suspending her several feet above the ground. She was too tired, too exhausted to fight back, only hanging onto the arm, expect death any second.

"You impressed me," he said. "You would have been useful to us, but that time has passed. But I will grant you one thing before you die. Watch."

She gasped as he forced his way inside her mind, bringing with him images feelings and memories she had no names for. Everything faded away as she was hit with several scenes, each playing simultaneously, but also independently.

White room, strapped, restrained, bound, captured. Impossible to escape. Dozens more around me, all similar, all captured. Betrayed, though not of their own will. Those of the synthesized. They ask questions, same questions over and over, same answers. No submission. The others lack the will, they lack the endurance to resist even if it will cost us everything.

So I take their pain, rendering their potent machines useless. Saving the Collective in my own way, and it drives me mad, it almost breaks me. But I endure. They will come, find me, and then the traitors will be killed, and the synthesized pushed back. But until then, I will allow them to ravage me, take everything they can. But while relishing their rage, unable to learn what they want.

It is worth it.

Patricia gasped as she saw the scene shift, same place, but she had the feeling more time had passed. She still wasn't completely processing everything, but those restraints that had held others seemed less full.

They have realized pain does not work. Not anymore, they know it is me. They've left me alone, and I know why. They have converted the others, turning them into traitors. So quickly and easily. It terrifies me that I'll be next, and I know that is their goal. I cannot wait for rescue, they have held me too long. I will escape here, or die trying.

Now the entire scene changed. In front of her was a blue and green world. Similar to Earth, but not arranged the same. Everything around her was blurry, unfocused except for that.

Our world, so peaceful from up here. Our last bastion, taken by the traitors and reduced us to mockeries of ourselves. Slaves with no will of their own other than the synthesized. The war is almost over, we will lose. It is inevitable. There are plans, contingencies, but first the end for us must come.

Irony. We are powerful, but without control we are nothing. We are weak, empty. It is easy with my power amplified to take the minds of the traitors, taking their pain one last time, denying the army these synthesized desire. Here is comes…the end of the world.

The world turned to fire and Patricia felt the death of a species. Diluted as the memory was, the sheer intensity and scale almost made her lose her own grasp on her mind. Once that faded, everything rushed back, putting the helm of the Ethereal directly in front of her.

"Ultimately, psion, I believe we are more alike than either of us believed at first," he said, sorrow tinging his voice, making Patricia realize that he'd experienced the same thing. "We will both do whatever it takes to preserve our kind. I have seen and felt mine die once, I will not allow it to happen again, no matter how many must die in the process."

His grip on her throat tightened, and her vision began to go black.

A single shot rang out and the Ethereal stumbled. With the last of her strength, Patricia impressed one final command. Drop.

She fell to the ground and she looked over to where the shot had come from. Myra charged forward, firing her gauss cannon at the Ethereal, who had stumbled back. Numb surprise came over her as something became apparent to her. Myra was almost impossible to sense without trying. She was there but not like a living person. She existed, but lacked the typical characteristics of a mind.

How had she not realized that earlier? She had known Myra was different, but never really put more thought into it. But it was going to save her life now. On the concrete, she pushed herself back as the Ethereal withdrew all four of his arms, purple energy running along them.

It was weakened, she could sense it. It wasn't as strong as earlier. Even if pain didn't debilitate it, it slowed it down. And it was still a body and subject to their failings. Blood had formed a small puddle where the Ethereal stood, and it couldn't keep losing that much without consequences.

He clenched all four of his hands, her watching in dismay as the MEC began to be crushed, the metals, joints and weapons collapsing in on themselves. Several tanks burst, which she assumed contained flammable liquid and Ethereal motioned to the complete opposite direction, sending Myra flying that way.

Just in time for another shot to ring out going right into the Ethereal's back. It roared and spun around, Patricia also looked behind to see Sanya's MEC coming up, taking position and firing several small missiles at the Ethereal. It raised a hand to catch them, but instead simply deflected them into nearby buildings, shaking the ground whenever they hit.

She also became acutely aware that there were more people coming. People she knew. Annette. Creed. She heard a yell and saw Annette charge forward, encased in purple flame, manipulating tendrils of energy at the Ethereal who backed up as he surveyed the new threats.

Gauss fire rang out as Creed ordered the XCOM soldiers to fire at the Ethereal. "Focus fire!" She heard a voice behind her call, and looked behind once again to see what seemed to be a small army of marines behind the MEC, all firing their traditional weapons at the Ethereal.

All four hands were held up, as it tried to stop the sheer volume of fire from the two forces. The lower left one curled and glowed with purple energy as it gestured to the marine group. A whirling maelstrom of energy appeared in the middle of a group of five, tearing them apart within seconds. He motioned to several of the soldiers and several more fell, clutching their helmets and screaming.

How?

How could this thing die?

A low hum sounded overhead and she looked into the sky to see a small UFO streak across, stop above the Ethereal and slowly set down behind him.

Even as the rest of the soldiers kept firing, the Ethereal turned his gaze upon her, pinpointing the wounded woman on the ground. You earned your victory, psion. Prepare for retribution.

He pulled all his arms back and pushed out, sending a wave of energy that send everyone stumbling back, and in the brief time they recovered, he turned boarded the UFO which sped off a few seconds later.

Patricia let her head rest against the asphalt, breathing heavily, disbelief and wonder coursing through her as the world swam around her. Unintelligible voices entered her ears, but she didn't even try to make sense of them, instead closing her eyes and submitting to unconsciousness.

They'd done it.

They'd beaten an Ethereal.

---

After-Action Report

Operation: Hand of God

Personnel

Buck 1 (Squad Overseer): Psion Patricia Trask

Status: Active

Kills: 0

Buck 2: Specialist Carmelita Alba

Status: Active

Kills: 3

Buck 3: Specialist Anius Creed

Status: Active

Kills: 1

Buck 4: Specialist Samuel Roche

Status: Active

Kills: 1

Buck 5: Specialist Fakhr al Din

Status: Active

Kills: 0

Buck 6: Specialist Cai Wong

Status: Deceased

Kills: 0

Buck 7: Psion Iosif Bronis

Status: Active

Kills: 0

Buck 8: Specialist Blake Harkin

Status: Active

Kills: 0

Buck 9: Specialist Lesedi Iminathi

Status: Wounded (Estimated 5 Days)

Kills: 0

Buck 10: Specialist Nazar Klim

Status: Deceased

Kills: 0

Buck 11: Psion Alexei Feodor

Status: Deceased

Kills: 0

Buck 12: Specialist Jamali Muhammad

Status: Active

Kills: 0

Buck 13: Specialist Latrell Moreau

Status: Active

Kills: 1

Buck 14: Specialist Yeva Hurik

Status: Wounded (Estimated 18 Days)

Kills: 0

Buck 15: Specialist Veronika Slava

Status: Active

Kills: 1

Buck 16: Psion Annette Durand

Status: Active

Kills: 2

Buck 17: MEC Soldier Myra Rodriguez

Status: Heavily Damaged (Estimated Repair Time: 20 Days)

Kills: 3

Buck 18: MEC Soldier Sanya Olga

Status: Online

Kills: 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot 1: Jason Olgard – Call sign: "Big Sky"

Pilot 2: Riley Ignis – Call sign: "Burning Sky"

Pilot 3: Barney Kimon – Call sign: "Gray Sky"

Artifacts Recovered:

-16x Muton Elite Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-20x Alien Alloys (Unsorted)

-32 Alien Weapon Fragments

-1x Vial of Ethereal Blood