"Okay, hold on." Dawn held up her hands as though she were physically trying to slow the frightening train of thought that was traveling around the room. "I mean, how could we be in a simulation? We have to be the originals, right? I certainly don't feel like a copy."

Eager shook his head. "None of the duplicates would. They're all a perfect simulation of us, complete with their own sense of being. There's no way to distinguish the originals from the copies."

Scorch nodded slowly. "That's why the others died. They didn't want to piss off the mind by trying to escape, so they opted for a more peaceful death and simply locked the place down."

Eager thought hard for a moment. "Hang on, didn't they talk about a Warmind? About bringing one here?"

Spectre looked at her. "They did, but decided against it. They were right too, what would happen if the Vex got ahold of any fraction of a Warmind's capabilities? We'd be putting humanity itself at risk." Scorch had no idea what a Warmind was, but apparently they were serious business. She trusted Spectre's input on the matter.

All were silent as they thought of what to do. None presented any reasonable ideas.

Spectre turned to each of them, watching them struggle to come up with a solution. "I don't know what to tell you all, there's no sure way to know that we're the originals. We could attempt to escape, but then the mind core might react if we were a simulation-"

"Then that's what we'll do." Scorch's interruption brought everyone out of their stupor. "Look, we may not have a definite way to know that we're the originals. But dying here sure as hell isn't an ideal situation." She turned to Spectre. "You said that it's running near-perfect simulations of ourselves, right? Even now?"

Spectre vibrated for a second. "Yes, the sims are still doing exactly what you're doing."

"Good." She held up the damaged cloak. "Obviously they were here, but they managed to escape somehow. It does look as though the mind-core definitely reacted," she said, pointing to the singed holes in the fabric, "but they escaped nonetheless. Unfortunately, they didn't destroy the mind core. That's what we're going to correct."

She gestured at the central console. "You said that the mind-core's essence is inside here, right?"

The Ghost bobbed slowly. "Yes, it is. What are you thinking?" She inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, preparing a simple explanation for them.

"Assuming that we're in a simulation, if we try to leave or do anything, the mind core will react and either torture us for eternity or kill us in brutal ways." She shivered slightly, then paused to regain her composure. "But if it's destroyed, all of the simulations die quickly, and the originals escape. The sims are doomed anyway, and I'm fairly sure that suddenly ceasing to exist is a lot better than whatever the mind core has in store. Are the sims still with us so far?"

Spectre checked again. "Yes, they're all saying exactly what you're saying. Amazing, this thing's prediction algorithm…"

She cut him off. "Then it's a unanimous vote. I, along with all of the other sims, will destroy the console. In every single simulation and in the original, their 'Scorch' will destroy the mind-core, and will either cease to exist or will be free to leave." She raised the Last Word, and aimed it at the console.

Spectre pulsed for a moment. "Uh, I'm detecting Vex signatures around the area, growing stronger. They're in all the sims too. My guess is that the mind core is calling for help, but doesn't want to distinguish between originals and copies yet. Do whatever it is you're doing fast."

She nodded. "Anyone have anything they want to say before I do this?"

Eager shrugged. "Not much to say, is there?"

Dawn sighed. "My thoughts exactly. Either we'll live, or we won't. Why delay?" Scorch acknowledged their sentiments with a quick nod, and faced the console again. "Spectre, what are the chances that we're the originals?"

The Ghost pulsed. "1/237 and the number keeps shrinking with every sim that is created."

Scorch inhaled and exhaled quickly. "Guys, just in case we're one of the 236 copies instead of the originals and we die right now, I just wanna say thanks for accompanying me on this. I know it's kinda your jobs, but I don't have many friends and I'm glad to consider you two in that category."

Dawn gave her a thumbs up in response, but Eager seemed taken aback. "Really? I haven't had that feeling at all from you."

She shrugged. "I'm not the best at expressing emotions. You'll learn to tolerate it."

She hesitated only a second more, and took the time to look down at the cloak she held in her other hand. In a split-decision, she pulled the cloak over her helmet and wore it. I will not give up on rescuing you, I swear she thought to herself as she did so. Wearing the cloak was not a manner of cosmetics, but a promise; a promise that she would make it out of here in some reality, even if it wasn't this one, and she would rescue the Heroes. With a determined expression upon her face, she pulled the trigger of the hand cannon, firing round after round into the mind core's link to life.

The console immediately ceased to work. The monitor shut down, and sparks began flying from the holes created by the bullets that had punched through the exterior of the console and destroyed the wiring within. Scorch cautiously looked around and exhaled a sigh of relief when she realized they were still alive and breathing.

"Guhh…" Scorch felt her knees turn slightly wobbly from the feeling of all the tension in her body leaving her out of joy that they were the originals. Spectre flew over to the now destroyed console and analyzed it.

"No activity detected. The mind core is definitely dead, as are the sims. For them, life just seemed to… stop. No pain, no torture. It was the best outcome for them." Scorch felt an odd emotional pain spread throughout her chest. The sims may have only been copies, but they'd all been real minds, with real personalities and memories. Albeit, copies of real memories, but still. The odds had been likely that they themselves would be sims, but luckily they turned out to be the 1 out of 237.

Spectre began vibrating frantically. "The Vex! They're still coming!" Indeed, clouds began emanating from several blue lights that had appeared throughout the room.

"Seekers, move!" Scorch yelled, and they all began to sprint toward the exit. One of the clouds in front of them dissipated and revealed a few Goblins that turned to look at them as they ran. Raising her weapon, Scorch fired off several rounds into the chests of the robotic organisms. Two of them fell under the gunfire, while the other three raised their arms to take aim. Dawn dashed forward and shoulder charged one of them, sending it flying back several meters into pieces. Eager extended his hands and let a jet of flame shoot from the palm of his hand, engulfing the last two Goblins' heads in fire.

As the robotic organisms fell, more moved in to fill their place. Red beams of searing hot energy were flying from every direction across the room. Weaving in and around in an evasive sort of dance, the trio managed to make it to the exit door, and began ascending the spiral staircase. With their footsteps echoing off the walls of the passage, they continued sprinting out of the archive until they reached the massive slanted door that Spectre had opened for them to enter.

"Spectre, lock down that entrance! Make sure that nothing gets through!" Complying, the Ghost moved over to the console on the side of the hallway, and began accessing the mainframe. Slowly, the two doors on either side began to slide towards each other to close the gap that allowed entry to the archive. With a loud rumble, they met in the middle and ceased to move.

She panted and looked to her two companions. They stood with expressions of just as much awe as she felt. Motioning with her hand, she gestured towards the Hall of Whispers.

"I'm, uh… I'm gonna call this mission for today. We'll pick up where we left off tomorrow, but I think we've made good progress these last few hours, don't you?" Both of them nodded their heads in agreement. Scorch started to shakily walk out and towards the exit with the other trailing close behind.

-X-

Scorch laid down on her bed and tried to relax. Dawn was out in the living room, sleeping on the spare mattress that Scorch had bought out in the city and brought back for her. She figured that the woman couldn't keep sleeping on a couch in a friend's apartment, but should sleep on a mattress in a friend's apartment. She hoped that made more sense.

Eager was catching up on some work he needed to do for the task force. Dawn and Scorch had decided to drop off the data drive with the Cryptarch overnight before making their way back to Scorch's apartment. He had assured them that he'd solve the encryption as fast as he was capable, and that was good enough for her.

She looked over at the trophy she'd collected, now hanging on the back of her door. The lost Hunter's cloak still bore many scars of war, but Scorch liked it that way. It made her feel as though she were a part of all those experiences, as though she were following in the footsteps of its previous owner. Technically, following his footsteps was exactly what her job was, but she tried to ignore that.

Scorch gave it a brief nod as though Matt could see her. She hadn't been kidding herself when she'd made that vow down in the archive. This cloak would be a reminder to her everyday, a reminder of the promise that she'd made to find the Heroes, and if possible, bring them home safely. They'd saved her life, and she wouldn't stop feeling in their debt until she repaid that favor. Sighing, she shut her eyes, and drifted off into slumber.