The Colonel made contact with us hours after Best died. The mercenaries—which have been confirmed to be vault hunters—left for Elpis. Flame Knuckle was destroyed and its operator killed, along with dozens of others the vault hunters cut through. The Lost Legion has started setting up camps in Helios. Ours is just outside the maintenance closet.
I find Boxer sitting on a crate inside the closet, staring down at the red stain Best left. Her body, along with the others, has been burned and the ashes vented into space. He looks up at me and then back at the floor.
"So, what, then? You're a bloody siren now?"
"I don't think it's like that. Not exactly."
He huffs, worn out and overworked. With the sea of casualties the vault hunters left in their wake, he's been working double-time to get everyone patched up. There are only a handful of combat medics in the Lost Legion. He's one of the best, and subsequently one of the most sought after.
I sink to the floor in front of him, forcing him to look at me. His lips curl back in a scowl but the disturbance doesn't reach his eyes, which stay hollow and saddened.
"I knew this vault business was no good," He says finally. "I told you."
"I know."
"And now we're fighting vault hunters, and messing with vault magic, and Best is dead—" His voice breaks. He sighs, sets his shoulders. "When you first . . ." He gestures helplessly with his hand, "I thought it was going to kill you. I thought you were going to explode and we'd be scraping bits of Montauk off the walls for days."
I can't help but chuckle. He shoots me a glare.
"I couldn't stop thinking that you were going to die and I never told you that I—" He catches himself and laughs, finally meeting my eyes. He looks as if he's resigning himself to losing some internal battle. "When Best died, she and Corena . . . Best knew she wasn't alone. If that cowgirl sharpshooter out there kills one of us, I want you to know that I'm thinking of you. All the time. And I have been for a while."
"Boxer . . ." I say, because what the hell else can I say? What else but his name do I want to say? I still don't know what he sees in me. How he—strong, compassionate Boxer—could come to care about the train wreck I've become, the mindless grunt I was. He's still not looking at me, afraid of my reaction. Can't he see he has nothing to worry about? Can't he see I've already slipped and fallen for that intent gaze, those pursed lips, that dark, amber skin, the compassion, the dedication?
I take his hands and his eyes dip to our tangled fingers. He doesn't need me to say anything. He understands with this gesture how much he means to me.
"I think about you a lot too," I tell him. Because lame as it sounds, it's true, and he deserves that. His eyes snap to mine, haunted and shadowed in this bloodstained maintenance closet.
The door slams open. "You two done making out?" Bob barks, not waiting for an answer, "Cause The Colonel's got an announcement to make, she wants both of you to hear it."
"Both of us?" Boxer asks
"Making out?" I gape.
"Yes to both of your dumbass questions. Get your ECHOs and get out here." He jerks his thumb at the camp behind him.
Boxer and I follow him—albeit awkwardly—out into the trashed halls of Hyperion. The Lost Legion hasn't completely taken over, but our hold on the space station is strong. I haven't seen a Hyperion uniform not on a corpse in days. The PA system still drones on, though. Someone's still alive to keep the stupid thing running.
Corena leans against one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows, staring off into space. She's been doing that a lot since Best's ashes were vented into it. I wish I had the words for her. We lock eyes and she dips her head at me in acknowledgment.
The ECHO buzzes to life, our Colonel's voice crackling over the Legion-wide channel. She starts with the customary introductions, reading off casualty statistics, how much of the space station we have captured, and the whereabouts of the vault hunters on Elpis. Then she touches on something else.
"There have been recent . . . developments," The Colonel starts, "with those of us affected by the vault. As you all are aware, a portion of our soldiers have been changed by being near the vault. You've seen the purple rashes, the eyes, heard the stories of sleepless nights and losing the need for food. These are our brothers and sisters, no matter how much the vault changes them.
"I have consulted The Watcher. This is not a medical condition, it comes from the vault. You have likely seen one of these soldiers ascend and gain otherworldly powers. This is a gift from the eridians, from the vault. These people are Eternals."
How long has she known this? I look up from my ECHO and my eyes find Kenta's. She is like me, with fewer rashes. Her glowing blue eyes search my face for an answer and I know she's thinking the same thing.
"Eternals who are confused about their current situation should report to Sergeant Montauk of the—" She catches herself, about to say my now-defunct Dahl designation. She clears her throat, "From what I know, Sergeant Montauk is the first Eternal in our ranks, with the most progressed condition. He has been handling these changes with the discipline and flexibility of our finest Legion soldiers. I will provide a waypoint to his location if there are further questions."
I wish I could agree with the blatant propaganda being spewed about me, but I can't. I didn't handle the changes so much as I let them happen to me while fearing for my future as a human being. But it's for the Legion, not me.
"Though this is not a medical affliction, I still advise Eternals to check in regularly with any available combat medics to ensure good health. To everyone else, remember that these are still valued members of the Lost Legion. Updates will come shortly regarding the capture of Helios' eye. Remember, the vaults must stay closed. To the last."
We all echo what has become the Lost Legion's motto. All eyes are on me. I've never been a public speaker so I shrug, reattach the ECHO to my hip, and go looking for Corena. I need her quiet wisdom, not the riling speeches of our leader, not the endless questions of the marines, just someone who will ground me. Corena excels in that.
Helios belongs to the Lost Legion. A handful of Hyperion employees have slipped through the cracks, barricading themselves in sealed rooms, but not once is our control contested. The space station is a far cry from our camps down in the fissure. There are beds, first off, actual beds. Food, too. Vending machines, which prove great for keeping the marines stocked with weaponry, shields, and Insta-Healths.
Following The Colonel's speech about Eternals, they all flock to me. Asking questions, for guidance, and for help. As if I have all the answers. I'm not the Grand Eternal Expert everyone thinks I am, I'm just patient zero. I miss the days when all I was to them was Sargeant. Just enough power to be respected, but not enough that my responsibility left my squad. Now I have to be a physician, therapist, and mentor for a growing number of frightened Eternals. They all seem to think that because I was the first, I possess some divine vault knowledge, which would be great right about now.
I do what I can. Boxer helps. Corena, too. I think she needs something to distract herself. It seems to be working, she's been spending a lot of time talking to my Eternals and they all only have great things to say about her. I've tried to thank her for the help but she only waves me away.
Luckily I am momentarily exempt from my duties as Papa Eternal because The Colonel has called a meeting. It's intended to be in person, but we're spread throughout an entire space station. Those who can come should, those who cannot will listen over the ECHO.
Corena, Boxer, and I sit against a wall in the Hyperion Hub of Heroism's central terminal. The Colonel stands in the middle of it all, in front of a broken elevator.
Sitting among the Lost Legion, surrounded by our spoils of this war, I am left empty. I thought this victory would make me feel something. I'm finally back in action, and we're winning. But it all feels so hollow. If we take down Hyperion and the vault hunters, we will continue this fight again, the next time someone tries to open Elpis' vault. And again and again and again until I am dead and someone takes my place.
The Colonel doesn't share my doubt. She stands proud in front of all of us, wielding her staff. She twirls it experimentally, watching the rivulets of inky smoke dissipate into the recycled air. To quiet the crowd, she hits the end of the staff on the floor a few times.
"You know why we are here," She starts. It is now that I notice The Watcher, hovering off in the shadows behind an upturned trash can. It does what it always does—watches. "The Eye of Helios is our goal, but it is not the endgame. If we can get to the Eye, if we can control it, if we can destroy this moon before it destroys everything in existence, we will have met our goal. But oftentimes plans go awry. There are roadblocks, obstacles, sometimes the plan will need to be thrown out completely.
"I am rambling, I apologize," She offers a light, impartial smile. "We need a contingency plan if the Eye does not work. The Watcher and I are working on this, until then I will dispatch troops on Elpis to guard the vault in person. There are already soldiers down there, but we need more if we expect to hold ground. I will be organizing and deploying these troops as soon as I can. Expect to be relocated. Those who stay on Elpis will be given permanent posts in key areas. The reason I am now employing stricter routines is because of a certain . . . roadblock only recently discovered."
The vault hunters.
The Colonel gives us a rundown of who exactly these people are and what they're capable of. They are a misfit group—mercenaries from all over the galaxy, all specifically trained in certain niches. They're led by Jack, a Hyperion programmer. Not much is known about him other than his working history in Hyperion. All seven—including a body double Jack had commissioned to look exactly like him—are armed and dangerous. Shoot to kill The Colonel reminds us, as if we need it.
"A lot of people will die in this war," The Colonel continues gravely, "innocent people, good people. But this is a price we must pay for the protection of our universe. Even if we suffer thousands of casualties, we are saving millions.
"We are the defenders of this moon, but we also defend everything else in this galaxy. The power of the vaults is volatile and unrelenting. Opening one vault sparks a chain reaction of chaos, death, and destruction. It will not end until every planet and moon is dust. Which is why we must stop the chain now. Hyperion is nothing but an obstacle, one of many. Our duty is greater than them, it is greater than us. Our duty is to protect the worlds. To the last!"
"To the last!" Our voices reverberate off the high ceilings. But I don't feel it in my chest this time. The camaraderie and thrill of battle don't rattle my ribs and fill my lungs. All I hear is a slogan. All I see is another decade-spanning, costly, bloated corporate war in the making and I think of my sister. Of the slums in Promethea, drained by heavy wartime taxes, filled with crime and depravity and starvation. It's a product of the corporate wars, but also feeds them, churning out broke, impressionable youth like me for the meat grinder.
I only find out back at the camp that The Colonel has relocated me and all Eternals back down to Elpis. The order hits me like a slap in the face. I want to be here, with The Colonel and my friends. I can't leave them behind. The Colonel will throw herself into the vacuum of space if it means we'd win this. I need to be here so she won't do exactly that.
"For the last time, Montauk, I need you on Elpis," The Colonel leans against the open loading hatch. She tugs on the cuffs of her gloves. "If Jack and his vault hunters get inside—"
"I know that, but what about you and Bob?" I ask again. Behind me, in the belly of the fighter jet, over a hundred Eternals and Lost Legion infantry wait to depart. Though technically, they're waiting for me to stop bickering with The Colonel. Corena, leaning against the wall, sighs and hits my shoulder, telling me to get away from the door so we can leave. Her and Boxer were among a few others ordered to Elpis with me and the Eternals.
"We will be fine. Now, I'm flattered by your concern, and I assure you that Bob is too, but you need to get going," The Colonel presses the button to close the doors. I stay in the way so the doors sense there's someone on the hatch and stay open. The Colonel gives me a look. I'm on her last nerve. "Montauk. Please."
I feel like a petulant child, but so much irrational, absurd stuff has happened to me anyways. I'm due for a good tantrum. "I've been with you since the beginning," I say. "So has Corena."
"Do not drag me into this," Corena says, pushing off the wall. She goes deeper into the ship to look for Boxer so he might talk some sense into me.
"You have," The Colonel says, "and I appreciate you. I consider you to be one of my friends, but you must consider the tactical benefits of going back to Elpis. Plus, Eternals need space to ascend. I don't want my men accidentally killing each other in these cramped halls."
"If you can trust a trigger happy marine barely old enough to fit in his armor to throw a grenade in these cramped halls, you can trust Eternals to ascend."
She looks down at the floor, rubbing her temples. "I know you don't agree with this decision, and I know your heart's in the right place, but can you please—" She looks over at me, "—please, follow orders? I assure you this setup will be the most beneficial in the long run. We will stay here and capture the Eye, while you and these troops guard the vault."
I open my mouth to argue. The Colonel glares at me and I'm sure her eyes glow brighter.
"That is an order, Sergeant."
She wants me to follow orders. Like I have been for the latter half of my lifetime. I've been following orders blindly longer than I was living with my kid sister. I step off the doorway and into the ship, hands up in surrender. Fine.
"Aye-aye, Colonel."
If she detects the sarcasm in my tone she doesn't acknowledge it. The Colonel nods at me and hits the button, the massive loading bay doors puff steam and whir closed. The last I see of her is her head turning away from me, looking immensely tired.
"Done?" Corena asks behind me. I turn to find her and Boxer, both watching me with disappointment.
"What was the point of that?" Boxer asks. His discontent is not as harsh as Corena's.
I throw my hands, "This whole thing is stupid." I don't know what else to say, how else to articulate my emotions. This war, the vault, this Eternal thing, the way my life has flown completely off the rails, it's all so stupid.
Corena leaves me and Boxer. He watches me shift on my feet. Angry and restless and unsure exactly why. I hate what this life has done to me, what it's taken from me. It's like the wool has been lifted from my eyes. I'm lost, older than I was, and yet still in the same place I've been for years. Taking orders. Feeding something large and uncaring. I want to tear off my relics but can't find the will to do so.
"Sit with me," Boxer says. We sit on the hard plastic seats molded into the wall. He draws one leg up so he can face me. He asks me what's wrong. I almost laugh.
"I don't know. Everything?" I say, vision drifting up to the ceiling. I exhale, guilt seeping into my head. I shouldn't have talked to The Colonel like that, especially after she called me her friend. But a little voice in the back of my head tells me she only said that to get her dumb soldier to cooperate. "I'm just . . . I don't know."
My response doesn't settle with Boxer. He sets his hand on my leg, eyes roving my face for the answer to what haunts me. "Talk to me, Montauk."
"I am," I reply a bit too forcefully, and take a breath to calm down. "I don't know, really. It's just . . . I'm tired of everything, I think. Four and a half years since my life was any shred of normal. You were right about all this vault stuff, we shouldn't have messed with it."
"That's in the past," Boxer reminds me gently. "Think about what we can do now."
I don't know. I don't know where I'm going. Where I'll be stationed. How long until the vault opens or Jack and his mercs come and slaughter us as they did Best. What will become of The Colonel, and Bob, and Boxer's medic friends. I don't know anything and for the first time in a while, not knowing makes me writhe. Like I'm only now starting to fight against the current that's been dragging me to my death.
What can we do now? I've dug my grave, I've made my bed, now I have to lie in it. Accept that this is my life and I will meet my end on the battlefield like countless, countless others.
Boxer is still watching me, brow creased, tired eyes wreathed in bruise from not sleeping. He has so much more to worry about than my troubles.
"I want to help you," He says.
I hate seeing him like this. Stressed, exhausted, worked to the bone. Now he is burdened by my troubles, by my vices. I smile for him, I tell him he is helping. By being here, by caring, by sitting me down and bringing me back to my senses. He is not so easily convinced.
"When I know what's bothering me, I'll tell you," I say.
"Good. Because I'm here for you, you know that?"
I nod and tell him the same. He relaxes, leaning his head against the wall, eyes still locked on my face. He wrinkles his freckled nose as he smiles. I wish I could be more than I am for him.