Chapter 10: Withdrawal
"We can do this all day Mr Jameson. Yes you've been forthcoming about most we've asked, but if you don't start giving us some PROPER information about this 'Alphabetical Set' referenced in your files, you won't serve much of a purpose to us further."
Sanders leaned back in the dented steel chair, eyeing the silent scientist curiously. He had shared much information regarding the Red Zone, the GOL3M project, the Agencies current directive, even sharing information of the Agencies somewhat limited armed presence within the Eastern front. However when pressed on the older Project, he shut down entirely.
A whole hour of interrogation tactics yielded zero results. Neither generosity nor violence moved the scientist. It had only resulted in Jones spraining his wrist on the captives face.
Disappointment slipping through the stoic cracks, Sanders sighed and adjusted his blackened steel mask, standing and shoving the file on the plastic table into his shoulder bag. "We are done here for now, lets get your wrist looked at and come back with a new strategy."
Jones grunted, trying to hide the pain somewhat poorly, Sanders following him out the heavy bulkhead door and locking it behind him, tapping the tech Operative on the shoulder. "Keep an eye on him. We heard there was a defector out West that had a suicide method that left him consumed by black flames. We aren't done with Mr Jameson yet."
The tech nodded, adjusting his sitting position to monitor the camera feed. "Don't let him combust. Got it."
The post debrief hours had gone by slow for DJ. Herschel had noted most everything, with a few mundane and even more odd questions. Many directed at the new slew of abilities he had gained from the rapid mutation.
It had all concluded with a simple order of "I'll take you to your temporary quarters, wait there for instructions."
Those 'temporary quarters' was little more than a military medical cot and a prison toilet/sink combo next to what sounded like an underground waterway with a bad leak in a well lit concrete alcove. Even the walk through the almost spartan facility seemed to reflect the reputation of the Eastern Division quite well.
Do the best job with what you've got, and make everyone else question how the fuck you managed.
The stories were all there. Hanne and his infamous reputation was far from the worst. Herschel had revealed that the expectation for achieving your goal wasn't a choice, it was an unsaid requirement.
Pondering the future that awaited him, the young Operative's thoughts turned to his former comrades once again. Ryder, Hank…
His jaw reflexively clenched and grinded his sharp teeth together. Of course his memories were plagued with the other three. He had made the mistake of questioning his elder Operative about his old squad members, only to find truths he wished he hadn't.
Aaron turning traitor and selling out Hank, Hina and Eli vaingloriously fucking up potential alliences by putting magnum caliber holes through a kids face. And all three thought to disown him after he got a promotion out of that fuckstorm of a graduation.
Fuck them all.
"Keep grinding your teeth any louder and the civies up on the streets will hear us down here."
The sudden voice shook DJ from his thoughts, looking over at the hallway. Sanders was leaning against the wall, arms folded and one leg crossed.
"What's got you so angry you're risking an expensive dental procedure?"
The young Operative sat up, groaning and unclenching his jaw a little painfully. "It just hits hard at home you know?"
"What does? Your adoptive father being an Energy Scientist?"
"Fuck no, he's more dead to me than they are."
"They huh? Who's this 'they'?" Pushing off the wall, Sanders sat next to the younger man that dwarfed him.
"Half my old squad from out West. They disowned me after Incident 030 on account of me being the only one who was promoted. Aaron had his reasons for being emotional but Eli of all people-"
"Wait, hold up a mo. You were Madness Combat squadron right? Damn, no wonder you're so pissed."
DJ snorted, shaking his head. "Was being the accurate term. They ghosted me after graduation. Well, not Hank, but he's not the type I don't think. What gets me most is Eli. I saved that fucker's life during graduation, AND covered his fuckup when he gave us away in front of a god damn camera. And he had the audacity to disown me. Should've let the fucker die. But no, way too fucking kind back then."
Sanders shook his head, glancing at the mutated Operative. "And now you've no doubt heard of what happened between your two old squaddies and Tertia right?"
"Collateral Queen fucking headshots a child through a Soldat because she fails to target check in the middle of a battle and breaks overwatch rule 101. Then Coverup King tries to take all the blame for her to the higher ups. Yeah, everyone with ears knows by now."
"Well, I see captivity by the Agency hasn't dulled your creativity. Or shit sense of humor."
DJ glared at Sanders, snorting hard and flaring his nostrils. "Bite me."
"Now now, cheating on my partner would be a bad thing." Sanders stood, brushing a crease from his dull brown overcoat. "I'm actually here to get you to do something. It's important enough that I trust you to recognise that."
"And what pray tell are you asking?"
"You can eat my fat scaly ass, the only thing I want with him is to see his intestines strewn about like streamers."
The techie looked away from the camera feed to DJ, the confusion fused with disgust plastered on his face. Sanders waved him back to the camera.
"I understand your feeling that way. But we have already tried every other method from bribery to truth serum and everything in between. We are missing a key part of intel because he refuses to talk. So, logical reasoning suggests you are the literal last resort. Jones shattered his hand with the violent approach so I'm down an interrogation partner."
DJ groaned dejectedly and shook his head, looking through the one way mirror at the shrouded face of his adoptive father.
"Fine. Let's make this quick."
Sanders nodded to the techie, who in turn unlocked the bulkhead for them to walk through. Derek did not raise his head to meet either of them.
Placing the thick file back on the table, Sanders looked to DJ. "5 minutes to get him talking, that's all I'm asking. I'll be outside."
Exiting back through the bulkhead, Sanders twirled a seat around to sit next to the techie, as DJ sat in the cold steel chair opposite Derek.
A swift knee to the table jolted Derek from his haze, making him look DJ in the eye, who was presently attempting to murder him with his gaze.
"First things first, before any of the questions, I want to make one thing very clear."
DJ fished inside his jeans pocket, and placed a metal object on the table with a soft clang.
The 7.62 of Derek's M60 he kept with him. The loose round seemed to freeze the fabled 'Reaper' to his core.
"If you answer in a way that I find lacking, I will paint this room with your entrails in such a way it'll be considered fine art by a high functioning psychopath. Are we clear?"
Derek sat up in his chair, the bruising on his face evident but not seeming to bother him. "C-crystal."
Sitting back in the dented seat, DJ flipped open the file on the desk.
"What was the purpose of the 'Alphabetical Set'?"
"To… to create a division unit of at least 20 super soldiers to progress the Agencies hold over Nevada."
"Bullshit. Don't lie to me."
"It's not a lie, it's the truth I swear-"
"Then explain Project O."
Derek stammered out a choked noise, blinking in surprise. "How do you know about that?"
"The outpost I was assigned to after becoming disowned by my former squad was staffed entirely by Alphabetical Set experiments and the Antithesis's own experimental Operatives. It took all but 3 minutes of calling Mariana to find out what I needed to know. ALL of what I needed to know."
"I should have figured she'd have accessed our systems long ago. Project Z was always-" A sudden lack of air left Derek choking for breath, the force around his neck getting tighter.
DJ growled ferally, jagged talons extending and slightly tearing Derek's skin around his neck. "Don't you EVER refer to any of us by those titles again. We have names!"
"DJ, stand down. We need him alive!" Sanders' voice projected fuzzily over the intercom. The enraged Operative dropped Derek back onto his chair, coughing on the sudden rush of oxygen to his lungs.
"Fine. Lets just finish this." DJ retook his seat, folding his arms and looking away while his body settled down. "What is the reason behind the set, if not for your own sick curiosity?"
Derek, choking on his breath, hunched over in his chair upright, regaining his breathing ability slowly. "We… wanted to- ACHK- wanted to know… what it was possible to do with Energy… beyond a power source and weapon application…" He stifled out, slowly sitting back up.
"So in the end it was just your own curiosity. Suck fuck."
Derek glanced to the knocked over bullet on the table. "Take the… round out of the casing."
DJ frowned and squinted at Derek, before picking up the loose bullet and pulling on the bullet. It came off without much effort, along with a USB stick.
"I never held onto the bullet for sentimental reasons. I held onto it because it contained the stick drive of all my projects and facilities I oversaw before Cain was given dominion over my work. Over you. The Agency accused me of being too slow because I wanted you to be perfect. To be frank. I never felt bad killing your actual family. I felt bad for you being caught up in all this, but your family chose death the moment they spoke against us." Derek rambled on, leaning back in his chair.
"I loved you like my own son. I still love you. But to hell with those naysayers. I did what was right. Surely you see tha-"
Derek was cut short by a sudden gust of wind in his stomach. Followed by a warm sensation running down his neck. Words would not form and breathing felt like drowning. The next second he found himself with a dull pain through his middle section, front and back, with DJ's scathing red eyes up against his dulling own.
No words were spoken. Derek had accepted his fate, impaled on his adoptive son's Energy charged fist, throat slit and unable to breath.
A twist of the hand and a charge left him with no feeling in his lower body as he slid to the floor, his legs collapsing in front of him, DJ's blood soaked, faint blue Energy crackling hand in front of his face.
The Reaper was dead.
Following the unscheduled execution of Improbable Energy Doctor Derek Jameson, AKA 'The Reaper", one of our main sources of Agency knowledge ceased to be.
Senior Operative DJ Anderson became volatile and difficult to control after his execution of the doctor. An emotion driven state likely induced by the doctor on purpose to seal his fate and prevent being used as a tool against his own.
The USB drive recovered housed files of the defunct "Alphabetical Set" project, along with a series of facilities within the Red Zone detailed to house a few of these remaining projects.
SFO Anderson has been placed into medical lockdown for the present time, having sustained concussion from the scuffle that followed the incident.
Hanne has directed that he be assigned to the Recon Tasks Group, to avoid as much interaction with on site personnel as possible. Repeat events would be much avoided wherever possible.
SFO Jones has been relinquished to an administration position, as the injury he subjected to himself during interrogation proved to cause permanent damage to his wrist, rendering him unfit for field duty. This position shall be filled by SFO Anderson as well when he is deemed safe to be amongst other Operatives.
Reports on the incident have been submitted to the Higher Powers and Division Leaders have been advised of the change of Operative assignment.
For now, Operative Anderson shall be deferred to the RTG training program.
Valar Morghulis
Operative Sanders.
"You planned for this?! You mean to say you intended for the kid to kill Derek?"
"Yes Devus. The assimilation into their RTG squad depended on it."
"At the cost of all that knowledge…"
"Knowledge without limitation is useless. Derek Jameson learned of that fact far too late to change his fate. No use gaining a conscience after you've committed the deaths of thousands."
"Pavel is correct Devus. I may be mad, but even I know the doctor had sealed his fate long ago."
"Speaking of you Jargon, what of the others?"
"Wrath and Ace? They are aware of DJ's joining the RTG program. Time will tell if they too prove useful or a hindrance."
"Good. Devus, set yourself up in the South. Jargon, the North. I shall head West. It is time that we sit back and observe until the time is right. Stay hidden, stay alert. There is much to do in the coming times if we are to maintain our power without alerting the Great Ones."
The 3 shadowy figures atop the Empire State Building dispersed into the air, splitting off and vanishing into the clouds.
The dim flames of the barrel fire illuminated the cold street alley as the overcast darkness of night set in. Light snow had started to fall despite it being mid spring, eliciting a grunt from the hooded man standing over the fire.
"You gotta make it fucking freezing every time we come out?"
The other, a long dark haired man chuckled softly, adjusting his scarf. "Come on, you know you love the excuse to get close"
"You right, but you're still cold as fuck" The first snorted, sighing and leaning back against the aged brick wall. "Where's this new guy anyway? He got no sense of time or something?"
"From what I heard, after ripping that scientist in two, he nearly took Sanders' mask off when he tried to calm him down. He's a killer alright. And that's what we do best."
"Hm. So he's got a deathwish."
"Nah, he's an old school experiment from the Agency. Tough as they come and lethal as all fuck. He's shrugged off shit that would even take you down."
"Buuullllshit."
"I wish it was. The reports are kinda wild- Fuck here he is."
The second younger man looked down the alleyway towards a bulky figure clambering out of a manhole, causing the first to follow his gaze.
The figure approached, full clad in Engineer's trench coat, heavy boots and black jeans, scaled body armor and a sheathed back holster sword, piercing red eyes and armored gloves seemed to absorb the dim flames light. Shoving its hand's in it's pockets, the figure cleared it's throat.
"Hi. Uhh… I'm DJ, and I'm supposed to be joining the RTG program."
AN: Well, welcome to the end of my first ever fic. Exciting yes, finally finishing a piece instead of getting most of the way then ditching it from lack of motivation.
Where to begin… well, this fic ORIGINALLY started back in late 2017-early 2018 as a tribute fic to Spirit9871's Hank's Legacy, and as a continuation of DJ's story. Its not unreasonable to say that this fic has undergone so many changes, restarts and total clean slate wipes that its not remotely what it was originally. But that's okay.
I started this as a total fanboy. I'll be fuckin honest. Back then if you had told me that Spirit had mentioned me in a conversation I'd have flipped my absolute shit out and I'd be riding a fuckin high for DAYS. Real shit.
But, that is where a lot of problems lay inherently. I came into this the totally wrong way. In such a way that I had asked the very man himself to beta read and edit my fic, to the point where I was writing a base, and he ended up writing the details and fine points FOR ME. As well as those chapters read and admittedly were received, they eventually became a point of great and deep shame for me. I have the very original versions of chapters 1-7 saved locally, but I long since deleted the edited 1-4 chapters and rewrote nearly all of the content from scratch upon doing this re-upload and rewrite.
A large portion of this fic also contained deep shame for more personal reasons. That being that I let the DJ character take over that large portion of my life as well. I can look back now and say it was my attempt to be something the man liked, which was my character, because back then I hated myself and who I was. So becoming anything but who I was, was just that dream of mine. It consumed me.
Come 2020, I finally opened up to Spirit about this. And getting it off my chest allowed me to look at my fic once again. DJ no longer had any control over my life, and it was amazing to just write again for the sake of writing.
It's now the 15th of September 2021. I've finished this fucking nightmare, and I feel more happy than I ever have before. It's freeing. And there's nothing else I'd rather do now than say thank fuck its over, but I'm happy its here.
Enough of my rambling on though, I filled a whole ass page of google docs with this now, lets get onto the Special Thanks.
First and foremost:
Spirit9871.
A living fucking legend with an arguably better upload schedule than mine. We've both had ups and downs and you've become an amazing friend I wouldn't trade for anything. Much of what I am, and what my stories are, would not remotely be without you. Even when the world got rough, you were there when I needed you, and never unjustifiably said anything. Frankly I appreciate the times you were stark and fully honest regardless of the fact some shit hurt more than the kind times, because it helped me grow as a writer and as a person. I wish you much luck, come your education program you'll be running, teaching English.
Bravo.
It may have only been one chapter you looked at to help out but man, you kicked sense into me in the best way possible and the help got me through an extremely difficult portion. Your help with Spirit's educating me to be a better writer was very much appreciated. I wish you the best of health wherever you are.
Sibs.
Though it was never actual writing you helped me with, you've been an amazing friend throughout all of this. School and Covid was always getting in the way of things but you always stuck it through. Thank you for being an amazing person in general.
Pelinal.
We didn't have the best of starts, on my fault entirely in that regard, and I can never apologise enough for that. But your writing and continued work is actually a large inspiration for me. You learned from Spirit as I did, although you arguably benefited from it more than I given how much your writing has improved. I appreciate the fun times you've brought within our group chat and I very much wish you the best for Bloodlust.
Qusai.
Though you left Discord and we only sparsely talk on Steam from time to time you're still what I consider to be an amazing friend and artist. You are a riot to be around and to this day I still use your Dark Dragon emblem you made for me as my profile pic almost everywhere. I hope you are well.
Michael.
You are the fucking love of my life. Outright the only reason I finished this chapter is because you got me into doing a small collab writing prompt thing with you literally hours ago. Without you I doubt highly I would even be here to write any of this. I love you with all of my heart and soul, and I never, ever want to lose you for any reason. You are everything to me. Even though it's only been a year, happy anniversary by the way 3, you are one of the biggest reasons I continue trying to be a better person every day. I absolutely love you dear.
Retrospecter/Kamex.
To those of you readers who frequent many communities, you might recognize these names. Although I HIGHLY doubt either one will read this, these two have made such a positive impact on my life that I genuinely feel happy to just get up every day because of these two and the amazing community they have. Last I checked the Retro plush on Makeship was at 92% funded when I looked 12 hours ago so chances are its gonna get funded beyond belief, which I'm hella excited for in December/January. I also sorta bootlegged you two in the end there as your characters titles, sorta as a little in universe easter egg to pay homage to you two amazing guys. I wish you two the best.
Mr. K.
Krank, Jolly, the man himself Krinkles. You fucking madman. I've lost count of how many years its been since episode 1, and I remember waiting for episode 4 to release way back when. Your creation has brought so many people together under simple, enjoyable marshmallow men violence. Your recent Evil Within stream was a hell of a lot of fun to witness as infuriating as it seemed to you. I wish you the best of luck for the release of PN:2, we are all super psyched for this culmination of years of work.
You Readers.
Whether you are old, new, coming from Madness, from Spirit's fics, or FNF as of late there are many of you, as little as it may seem, the view count makes all the difference to us writers. Without you reading the content we put out there's not much point to us doing so, so thank you so much everyone who takes the time out of their day to read this and remember what the r/eyebleach reddit is for because why the fuck have you read all of this you crazy fucks. In all seriousness thank you all for sticking with it and my crazy, bullshit schedule of upload.
With that out of the way, onto the Character Credits, which contains some old names of people I'm no longer in contact with but they deserve to be credited all the same, and all names shall be under the one creator:
DJ Anderson, Derek Jameson, Garm, Osiris, Morgan, Pavel, Zai, Putain, Mariana, Beth, Victor, Havel, Steven, Hanz, Sanders, Jones, Herschel: Myself
Hina, Eli, Aaron, Hanne, 574, Hildie, Nikolai: Spirit9871
Sinig, Carson: Mari981
Devus: Devus the Wolf
Jargon: CrashandSonic11
Wrath: Retrospecter
Ace: Kamex
Well, with that out of the way, I can finally reveal 2 things.
The first, is that I will be continuing to work on Invisible Fog as often as I am able to, as it is a personal project combining aspects from Metro, one of my favorite game series of all time, Fallout New Vegas, another one of my favorite games of all time, and Spirit's Hank's Legacy/Final Salvation universe. Post apocalyptic wasteland madness ladies and gentlemen.
Second is I have another project hidden in the works, but that will be for much later, as it is a technical continuation of this fic to bridge some extra gaps once another thing happens sometime in the future.
So, with that, I bring this author's note to a close, and a final, official close to the Return Tripping story. This last chapter is sort of short I understand, but it's how I feel it is best done. I thank you all for bearing with me. Reviews, guest, anonymous or otherwise, are extremely very much appreciated. I wish you all good health, and a good night. It is 5:07 am presently, and I very much am happy that this part of the storyline is done.
Goodnight and goodmorrow.