"I don't like it," said Type 79.
Hunter Squadron stood arrayed around the double doors that Gestalt had reportedly disappeared through. They had been forced open, that was for sure, though the broken chain still hanging from the door handle looked as old as the door itself. StG felt as if this was hardly the first time Sangvis had passed through these doors.
The factory was silent, the other three doll teams having gone outside several minutes ago, where they'd set up another cordon in case Gestalt doubled back. NTW-20 had exchanged a few words with Welrod and CBJ-MS and Grizzly before moving on, while Type 56-1 waved at StG while carrying an injured K11 over her shoulders. StG merely waved back and averted her gaze. Better to not talk to them, she had told herself.
"Agreed," said NTW-20. "This place was formerly Sangvis. They must've had infrastructure underneath, and that means it could be connected to other Sangvis structures or bases. We don't know what's down there."
"...great…" FAMAS toed a chunk of concrete in front of her. "So we're walking into something we know nothing about, in close quarters, in the dark."
"There's probably power down there," Tokarev ventured. "And we have equipment."
"Sure, but who's to say Gestalt hasn't cut the power to the lights? This night-vision gear is less useful than Kerr's v-"
"Quit it." NTW-20 stopped speaking for a moment. "Alright, Throne's updated as to our status. 44, open the door."
StG stepped forward and grabbed the door handle, turning it and pulling the door open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. It was pitch black beyond the doorway, and even when StG turned on her flashlight the beam did not penetrate far enough to show them much of anything, besides the fact that it was a stairwell.
"Type 79, take point. StG, behind her."
Type 79 pulled open the other door and stepped forward. Because of the close quarters nature of the factory, they would have their dummies follow behind the five mainframe dolls so they didn't get in the way. StG went after Type 79, then NTW, then Tokarev, then FAMAS as rearguard.
For a while, there was no sound except for the scuff-clop as they took cautious steps down the stairs, around the landing, then more stairs, then another landing… it seemed to go on forever. How deep are we going? Their flashlights swept across blank wall after blank wall, a single darkened light fixture at every landing. Nothing could be heard under the layers of concrete and stone and dirt above them: not the chop of helicopter blades, not the echo of distant gunfire and mortar rounds, not even the wind blowing down into the valley. Despite the quiet, StG was tight like a coiled spring in anticipation of what lay ahead. Gestalt could be lurking around any corner, waiting to jump out at Hunter. I have to be ready, StG told herself. I can do this. Just like any other Ringleader. She gripped the barrel of her rifle tighter.
It occurred to her that she had not actually fought Gestalt. M99, one of the elite dolls on base, had crossed with it, as had Grizzly Team (twice), but none of the dolls on the dedicated Ringleader hunting team had personally met the enemy. StG appreciated the irony in that, but more importantly she felt apprehensive. They knew what Gestalt could do, sure, but knowing something and experiencing it were two different things. As confident as NTW-20 and FAMAS were, they were no better prepared for this engagement than Yew Team had been all those weeks ago. It seemed like a different time when OTs-12 had disappeared – a blissful time of ignorance, when nobody knew about the Sangvis terror lurking in S17.
They rounded another corner and kept walking down. Type 79 occasionally shined her flashlight into the corner or paused to listen, but there was never anything except dust and echoes. StG 44 strained her audio receptors for anything, but there was only the scuff of their shoes on the concrete and the rush of coolant through her body.
"Why aren't any of the lights on?" Tokarev muttered.
"Sangvis doesn't need it like we do," NTW-20 replied. "If they have it mapped out with OGAS, they can just set their dolls on a premade route."
"This darkness… Да, тут любой на стрёме будет." Tokarev made a sound of disapproval.
"Hey, quiet." Type 79 quit moving and stood still, stopping the whole squad behind her. "There's something around the landing."
Without a single signal, everyone simultaneously raised their weapons up. Type 79 started forward slowly, advancing step by step down the stairs. Her prosthetic finger was on the trigger, ready to squeeze off a shot, and StG was just as ready to start shooting. She watched as the submachine gun paused, then darted forward, sweeping her barrel around the corner neatly. Hunter followed behind her.
A dead body lay in the corner of the landing. Not a Sangvis or Griffin doll, but what had once been a living, breathing human. The skin underneath the dusty white lab coat was yellowed, stretched tight across the skeleton and turning what had once been a face into an ugly, grimacing skull that managed to look regretful even in death. A hole had been burnt into its chest while a pair of glasses had fallen off its face into its lap. The purple emblem of Sangvis Ferri was emblazoned on the pocket on the lab coat, and beneath that was an ID card. StG knelt by the corpse and took the ID, inspecting it.
"Bukharin, Iosef. Male, 37. Assistant Researcher," StG read.
"Keep it," said NTW. "Kerr can give it to next of kin."
StG pocketed the ID and they moved on.
"Another Butterfly victim to be reported," FAMAS said bitterly. "Remind me why we don't just blitz Sangvis into the ground and go home?"
"The NSU contract with Griffin. We contain only."
That explanation never sat easy, no matter how often it was said. StG glanced once more at the corpses as they walked by it, and then she was around the corner and it was out of sight.
They had reached the thirtieth landing when there was suddenly no corner to turn around. A door faced Hunter instead. Though it was completely nondescript, StG caught NTW-20's brief look of surprise before she ordered Type 79 to lead them through it.
Beyond was an anteroom that led into a room of inky blackness. Despite the bright LED flashlights every doll carried, they could only get narrow glimpses of the expansive chamber around them. Cargo containers were stacked neatly on the other side, abandoned forklifts and trucks sitting around, looking like they'd been abandoned mid-use. StG swung her flashlight beam up towards the ceiling, discovering a large gantry that straddled the room. Perhaps hall was a more appropriate word here, given how long and wide it was. Type 79 whistled as she inspected a wooden crate.
"Looks like vintage pre-Butterfly equipment, untouched."
"Leave it that way," NTW-20 said sternly. "This looks like some sort of shipping center or depot. Railroad tracks here. No car, though."
"Sangvis and railroad doesn't sound like a good combination."
"Well, they couldn't power it even if they wanted to. What matters is where this leads…"
They'd already gone deep underground. StG wasn't keen on venturing any further than this. Her gut – rather, preprogrammed survival instincts – told her no, to stay here, or even return to the surface and radio for help. But that wasn't how Hunter operated. They were a solo team, and always would be. That suited StG just fine, no matter what her gut said.
"So what's the plan?" she asked over Zener.
"We wait here, try to lure Gestalt out. If it's a no-show, then we start searching the area, and follow those railroad tracks if we have to."
The others shifted uncomfortably, but didn't protest. NTW pulled a couple glowsticks off her belt, snapped and shook them, then threw them around the floor. The grey Sangvis-marked shipping containers were all around them, and one container even dangled from the gantry. StG made note of its position so she wouldn't walk under it. Everyone was double checking their equipment again, and then once more after that.
"What'd you do?" Tokarev asked NTW.
"I broadcast a signal anyone within range could hear. It's disguised as an open transmission to command, so there's less of a chance of Gestalt seeing it as bait."
"What if it chooses not to engage?"
NTW-20 seemed to shrug. "Then we get to earn our title."
Poetic. Sturmgewehr found herself missing K11 and the rest of Chrysanthemum. Hunter was all work and no talk when they were on the hunt, but Chrysanthemum had a fine balance of professionalism and social tendencies that made moments like this bearable. NTW was a good leader, but when it came to motivation, Hunter was generally left to their own devices. CBJ-MS would at least have had something encouraging to say, if one of the other dolls didn't crack a joke. That surprised SASS more than anything else; even in this moment, she was thinking of that squad more than Hunter.
No, she had to focus. This wasn't the time for sentimentality.
"That's enough waiting for now," NTW-20 said finally, a hint of impatience edging into her voice. She didn't seem scared at all. "Type 79, find a way to get the power on. StG can keep you company."
Type 79 had the luxury of a rail on her gun with which she could mount a flashlight. StG was forced to carry hers in one hand as she walked behind the SMG doll, who was walking along one of the walls of the depot. "The power station or breaker room should be around here," she said, the Zener voice coming across as a mutter. "Unless Sangvis sabotaged the equipment, it should still be operational."
StG's mind went to Grizzly's AAR she had read after that team had the first run in with Gestalt. It had been a similar situation: large, abandoned room with no lights and plenty of shadows for the Ringleader to hide in. How the hell could NTW-20 get off with not being scared, when this was the situation? Nothing like it had been presented in the flash-training they received when they first became T-dolls, nor had they ever fought like this, in Hunter or their previous units. Maybe their pink-haired leader was just exceptionally good at concealing her fear. Indeed, she was positively sphinx-like even in day-to-day interactions, and even though her most common emotion seemed to be laughter, StG knew – she knew – that NTW-20 had something else going on underneath that taciturn exterior.
"Yup, here we are," Type 79 said, coming to a halt and shining her flashlight on a door handle. "Fingers crossed we don't get any corpses, eh?"
StG's brow knitted for a moment before she followed Type 79 into the room, shining her flashlight around. A large control board was situated by a window overlooking a large generator room, an immense breaker panel on the wall next to it. The SMG looked at the arrangement before chuckling.
"I guess the stories about Sangvis disregarding building codes were true. Let's see what I can do from this panel."
"What stories?"
"You know, conspiracy theories in the, uh, less reputable technical magazines. I read them from time to time, good fiction… though now it all seems a bit prophetic. I knew Sangvis factories and such were a bit…"
She searched for a word.
"...Soviet, if you get my meaning, but from what I've seen in this building it really takes it to the extreme."
I really don't care. "And the generators?"
"Intact. Though it looks like we'll have to kick them on manually. Head into the generator room and look for a switch. Should be pretty close. Watch your step."
StG eased the door open and stepped inside, slinging her rifle in a position where she could grab it easily. The flashlight was a high-powered one – Hunter typically got the best gear. Her footsteps echoed around the concrete room as she stepped down the catwalk, as quietly as she could. It was entirely possible that Gestalt was hiding here the same way Grizzly said she had been hiding in the factory… except there wasn't a 45-to-1 numerical advantage this time. Her dummies were outside with the main group, on sentry duty, so it was just her and Type 79.
"Got it yet?"
"Yeah, right here." StG stopped short of the control panel in front of her. There were precious few labels, and whoever made the panel didn't seem very keen on making it intuitive. "Er… what am I pressing?"
"There should be a quick start button on the panel. Maybe yellow?"
"Why don't you do this?"
"I've got my own work to do here. Trust me, you should be glad you're out there."
StG rolled her eyes and looked around for the button. "There's a couple of yellow ones here. Oh, and a yellow lever. I think it says–"
"DON'T FLIP THAT!" Type 79 yelled. "Just… press the one on the top left."
StG found the button, closed her eyes to savor what might be her last moment in this world, and pressed the button.
With a rumble and low thrum, the generators came to life. StG could feel Type 79's elation emanating over Zener, but the SMG did her best not to let it show in her voice.
"Great, now you can flip that lever."
"Okay, done. Now what?"
"Standby… that should keep the system online. Now we have to route the power to the main room. Look for a series of sliders."
StG found it. "Here."
"Okay, on the count of three, slide the top six all the way to the right."
"Alright."
"One. Two. Three."
StG's machine precision meant all six sliders hit the other side at the exact same time. There was a brief hiccup in the constant noise of the generators, then Type 79 spoke again.
"Looks good from here. I can finish up from this panel, so just head on back."
StG backed away from the panel and turned around, raising her flashlight to shine it on a totally empty catwalk. Below, the generators hummed away, happily providing power for the underground facility. The T-doll turned off her flashlight as she approached the control room, where Type 79 was waiting.
"Remind NTW never to assign me to work with you," StG said, doing her best to keep the sour edge out of her voice.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"Well, stressful. I don't want to accidentally blow myself up."
"Well, safety measures would prevent that. Though this is pretty Soviet, so who knows if said safety measures would even work or not."
"You have a motivational style rivaled by none," StG quipped. Type 79 gave her a funny look.
NTW inclined her head in a single approving nod as they emerged from between the shipping crates, her pink hair hazy in the half-light of the warming lights.. "Good to see you two got the power running. Looks like Gestalt's a no-show."
"Sangvis always seems happy to ruin our plans, even if it means not attacking us for once," Type 79 replied. "So what's the plan now?"
NTW-20 turned to Tokarev, who merely raised her pistol up.
"Really?"
CRACK!
The round pinged off the gantry framework, sending a ring that lasted a few seconds. "Hey, watch it!" NTW-20 admonished Tokarev out loud while she winked at the handgun doll. "That's supposed to be on safe!"
"Yeah, that's the deal? Newbies…" FAMAS added, turning around and scanning the back of the room as she did. StG was about to say something when NTW-20 spoke over Zener.
"Another piece of bait."
A bit crude, StG thought. NTW-20 didn't seem the type to wait like this for so long.
Was she scared?
That was, in a way, more worrying than Gestalt herself.
Everyone flinched as something echoed through the room, a hollow bouncing that turned into a steady roll. StG listened intently as the sound grew closer, an annoyingly constant noise that ground on her concentration. Everyone spread out a little, weapons raised and pointed towards the noise.
"Oh, for…" NTW-20 grabbed the high-intensity flashlight off her belt and shined it around. It was larger than the standard issue and much brighter. The doll held her rifle under one arm as she searched for the source of the noise. "Everyone get ready."
StG shifted her gloved grip on the rifle, following the shifting flashlight beam with her eyes. First it landed on a crate, then the rails, then across the concrete floor, until NTW-20 seemed to have a lock on the sound and moved the beam to intercept it. A single empty water jug rolled across the floor, innocent and harmless.
"Ah," said Tokarev. Then some much heavier dropped to the floor behind StG and FAMAS inhaled sharply. By the time the rest of Hunter turned around, NTW-20 only managed to catch the tip of a shadowy black leg in the flashlight beam. Surprisingly, it was Tokarev who acted quickest, raising her pistol and squeezing off a quick succession of shots that sounded like they hit.
"Merde…" FAMAS held a hand to her neck. "That hurts."
"What's the plan, leader?" Type 79 asked.
"Standby. Tokarev, here." NTW handed the high-intensity flashlight to the handgun doll. "Just keep scanning with the flashlights. FAMAS, are you all right?"
"Oui, the healing should kick in, it's not that big a wound…"
StG was holding her rifle up towards the top of the stacked shipping crates, watching for Gestalt, but she glanced at the French doll, who was rubbing the back of her neck, bent over.
"Are you sure? Use one of the repair kits if you need it," NTW said.
"No, no, I'll be… I'll be…"
StG felt like something had just been unplugged – a forced disconnect from Zener. She lowered her aim and turned around to see FAMAS with her eyes shut tight in an ugly grimace, panting heavily. The doll looked pained, digging at the back of her neck with one hand while the other traced a frantic path on her scalp. NTW-20 shouldered her rifle and raised it.
Tokarev seemed to realize what was happening. "Wait, wait, n–"
FAMAS rushed NTW, reaching out and slapping the barrel aside just as the twenty millimeter rifle fired, splitting the air and temporarily brightening the still dim room with the muzzle flash. The heat from the brake seared FAMAS's arm, but the doll seemed not to care, yanking the anti-material rifle forward and pulling NTW-20 off balance.
"Hey, what's–"
"Shoot her!" NTW-20 shouted before FAMAS landed a kick in her belly, driving the doll back as the rest of Hunter hesitantly raised their weapons again. FAMAS didn't wait, lunging for Type 79 next. The SMG jerked back, shining the barrel-mounted flashlight at FAMAS but not shooting.
"What's gotten into you?!"
"Shoot her now!" NTW was rushing back into the fight, but FAMAS's dummies jerked to life and rushed Hunter. StG was hesitant to fire until one of them came right for her. Then she squeezed the trigger and put a round into the dummy's cranium, and two follow ups in its neck and chest.
To her left, Tokarev was struggling with a FAMAS that had pinned her. StG sent another shot through the dummy's arm, which let Tokarev wrest her hand free, raise her pistol to the dummy's temple, and fire again. StG left Tokarev and rushed forward, slipping by the two dummies NTW-20 was fighting to get to Type 79. FAMAS was wrestling with the doll over her gun, one hand clenched around the barrel while the other was grasping at 79's neck. StG took her left hand off her gun and set it down on FAMAS's back, gripping her by the collar and yanking back as hard as she could. The green-haired doll was lifted up and fell down hard, scrambling upright with animal ferocity, her sights now set on StG.
It was like a dance, StG letting go with two round bursts, taking quick steps to avoid FAMAS's grabs, the doll clawing at the air StG had just inhabited. Her Digimind was racing, trying to figure out what was happening – a Sangvis virus, it must be – and then determine what to do. NTW-20 had ordered her to shoot FAMAS, but everything StG had been trained to do said no, that shooting a Griffin T-doll was wrong and against the rules. Maybe that was why her shots were missing.
But StG hated FAMAS. She hated the doll's demeanor and superiority and for months now she had been waiting for a chance to wipe it off her face. Now that chance was given to her. FAMAS reached out and snagged StG's ankle, pulling her off balance. Even as she fell, StG aimed a kick at FAMAS, propelling her bootheel at the doll's face and, once it connected, doing it repeatedly until a part of her white skin broke away, a coolant duct spilling red over the floor. StG shoved FAMAS away and pulled her leg free of her grip, standing up and backing away. Tokarev was helping NTW-20 finish off the two dummies while Type 79 shadowed StG, looking for a chance to fire. She did now, finding her target in FAMAS's leg. The doll stumbled, but continued with frightening abandon, seizing her rifle and letting loose with a spray of bullets that ripped through the air around StG. Then she charged, even as Type 79 stitched a line of fire that crossed FAMAS's thigh, and closed in on StG.
Sturmgewehr's first shot hit the rampaging T-doll in the shoulder, but the second was thrown wide when FAMAS slammed into StG, lifting the doll bodily and throwing her back a meter. StG tried to land on her feet, but wobbled, allowing FAMAS to launch into a tackle, taking her to the ground. The mad doll's face leered at StG, stained with her own coolant, until StG pushed her away with her free hand. FAMAS was surprisingly strong, even for a doll, and StG struggled to push her off. She caught a glimpse of something approaching – Type 79 – and then the SMG's barrel was pushed against FAMAS's temple. With reflexes that belied her animal behavior, FAMAS flicked her head up just before Type 79 pulled the trigger, and the bullet zipped through her cheek instead of her skull. Another lightning strike pushed Type 79 back. StG twisted her body to throw FAMAS off balance before she punched her in the jaw, brought her rifle around, and shoved the barrel in her chest.
The bullet went through her core and left her back with a wet squelch, then FAMAS keeled over. StG quickly got out from under her and trained her rifle on the doll's head.
I've always been better than you. FAMAS writhed on the ground, her failing core unable to send proper commands to the motors and servos in her limbs. Coolant pooled beneath her, soaking her already crimson clothes, melding with her wrecked face to form a grotesque appearance StG simply could not pity. She raised the rifle up and twice. FAMAS went limp. StG spat.
"What the… what was that…" Type 79 breathed, still holding her weapon up.
"A virus. Gestalt turned her against us," NTW-20 replied. The doll pulled her knife free of one of the dummies and wiped it off before sheathing it. "It's the same sort of thing that happened to RPD. Rampancy, compromised logic systems. A delaying tactic."
"So…"
"She has backups. But that corpse… no, it's compromised. We can't take the combat recorder. No contact with Gestalt means no contact with corpses, as far as I'm concerned." Her pink eyes looked to StG. "Good job taking her down, 44."
NTW-20 gestured for Tokarev to hand her back the flashlight before she started walking away. Everyone hesitated, looking at FAMAS's body, before following her. StG looked the longest. She somehow had trouble bringing herself to hate the corpse. At the end of the day, FAMAS was just like any other doll – killable, and a sad sight once she was dead. StG wished she hadn't spit. "She's dead…" she murmured. NTW-20 only saw it as a delaying tactic from Gestalt.
"What?" said Type 79. StG shook her head. She wanted to confront NTW about it. She wanted to ask why she didn't care. But they had a mission to do, and they couldn't waste time arguing. StG could put aside these differences for the sake of the job.
"Nothing. What about Gestalt?"
NTW-20 picked her rifle back up off the ground and racked the bolt.
"She's not here," the doll said. "Which means it's time to go hunting."