Disclaimer: I understand Ironwood is a contentious matter within the RWBY community, so I'm saying this preemptively. This isn't the place to discuss it. Please keep in mind that characters speak and act according to their own perspective on events, and if you disagree or are offended by what they say or think, that's fine, but its a subject separate from the story.
On a more pleasant note, Happy New Years everyone! Hope you guys are staying safe and hope the next year is better than the last two! Anyway, please enjoy the chapter!
Crownworld Menkaukhet was in a sorry state.
Oh, he could dress it up; fix the most cosmetic wounds, alter a few crypt templates, make the world look and sound less broken than it truly was, but even this downplayed and haphazard veneer would conceal only a bare fraction of the true extent of the damage. And where a Phaerakh's ire is concerned, the difference between a report detailing a damage rating of 86.769923% compared to one of 86.182311% is virtually nonexistent, and thus utterly irrelevant.
Truthfully though, Nectashet considered this reality a boon if anything. Such extensive, wide-spread, and disparate destruction is very obviously the result of outside action rather than mistakes in the Crownworld's operation or design. Hopefully, this meant the Phaerakh would not act... hastily, before his full report was reviewed.
He ran through the diagnostics once more, further refining the available data and calculating the most efficient repair routines. The exact sequence would depend on which operational capability the Phaerakh deemed most critical, but he could begin preliminary restoration on the base matrixes.
A soft cough to his periphery caught his attention, and he turned towards the containment cell housing his experiments, finding his gaze matched by pale blue eyes. The human scrutinized him with an unreadable expression, though the scarabs in her mind relayed brainwave patterns indicative of extreme anger. He didn't care. Her and her companion's souls contained information he needed.
Besides, his procedures were downright pleasant compared to some other Crypteks he was familiar with.
Another cough drew his attention slightly downward. The other human, the first to waken and the one who had managed to temporarily break his hold, was curled up on the pale human's lap, her sleep uneven and restless.
If he could frown he would have. Reaching over, he brought up the sensor matrix for his two subjects. It was theoretically possible for them to get sick, compounded by the stress inflicted by his experiments, but practically speaking the tomb (his workshop especially) was completely sterile. To say contamination was extremely unlikely was an understatement.
Sure enough, there was no sign of viral infection or anything else that would prove an issue, so what… ah, there it was. He almost snorted. She had a hair in her throat. Honestly, he had no idea how organics put up with such distractions. It'd drive him mad in minutes.
With the wave of his hand the mindshackle scarabs had her swallow a few times and remove the obstruction. Immediately her breathing evened, though the squirming continued. He eyed her a moment more, but determined it was most likely stress-induced and turned to leave the room.
He still had a report to deliver.
Weiss watched the Cryptek leave, loathing deep in her heart. Even once the machine was gone she continued glaring, just for good measure. But after a moment more, she slumped. Her soul ached, the feeling of her body not being her own flickering through her mind like a twisted nightmare. She-
"-as hypothesized. While aura recovery was initially quick, relatively speaking, repeated shattering in quick succession resulted in following recovery phases taking a percentage longer, along with the barrier itself being marginally less efficient. Inquisitive…effect exponential? Or perhaps-"
-flinched, blinking away the memory. In her lap, Ruby stirred again, her fingers twitching in her sleep, grasping for a weapon that wasn't there. Weiss ran her own fingers through her leader's hair, murmuring soft reassurances.
"-wonder if it's just the protection aspect that's rendered less efficient, or all aura functions? Alternatively, a sort of sliding scale, wherein more functions are impacted as-"
Her eyes screwed shut, the voice-
"-shackle scarabs do influence auric efficiency. Seemingly in all aspects, though to what degree has yet to be ascertained. It can't be too large a margin as the observed difference is-"
-always there, always present. It was-
"-emotional variance too, impacts aura usage. Positive and negative emotions seem to have equivalent, though opposite effects, while the exact degree of influence depends on the emotion and possibly the individual in question. Positive emotions elicit a stronger-"
-Omnipresent.
She stopped, simply breathing for a moment, focusing wholly on the here and now. She needed to distract herself, clear her mind and turn it towards more productive thoughts. And honestly, she was lucky. After all, she was 'extra' and mostly used as a control group. Ruby was the primary subject, and so suffered the brunt of Nectashet's experiments.
Compared to Ruby, she had no right to complain.
And so she sat, clearing her mind as best she was able, her aura flowing over her like a... like a...her eyes opened. Someone had poked her cheek. She glanced down and was met with worried silver.
"Hey," Ruby said, rather sheepishly.
"Hey yourself," Weiss replied, arching an eyebrow.
The young reaper sat up, blinking away the remnants of her sleep. Turning, she gave Weiss a once over.
"How are you feeling?"
The former heiress gave her leader an unimpressed look, purposely noting the girl's rumpled dress and the bags under her eyes.
"I think I'm supposed to ask you that."
Ruby gave a helpless shrug, "Instinct I guess," she glanced around, "Where's Nectashet?"
"Left a few minutes ago," Weiss leaned back, closing her eyes, "Didn't even bother to poke us with anything before he did, so whatever he's doing must be important."
Ruby hmmed, going silent for a moment as she considered the information, "What do you think?" she finally asked.
Weiss peeked open an eyelid, "I think that we have no idea when he'll return, so unless you can make an escape plan, actually execute said plan to get us out of here, and manage to somehow get those robots out of our heads, all before he notices; then there's not really much we can do, is there?"
"Spoilsport."
"Naturally."
"...Want to play a game?"
"You want to play a game?" Weiss deadpanned.
"Why not? We don't have much else to do."
"I was more thinking we could continue trying to sleep. We both need the rest."
Ruby was silent for a moment.
"Are you sure?" she asked softly.
Weiss slumped. She knew what Ruby was trying to do. To distract the both of them, or, knowing Ruby, possibly just Weiss from their current situation. But they did need rest if they wished to entertain even the slightest possibility of escape. Their bodies, minds, and souls were highly stressed.
"No," she replied, "I'm not, but I think it's the best choice of a bunch of abysmal ones."
"I'm not sure being alone with our thoughts is the healthiest thing right now."
"It probably isn't," Weiss agreed, "But again, we don't really have a choice. Besides, you're not alone Ruby, neither of us are." She leaned back, her voice a whisper as she gazed up at the Viridian light above them, "You'll find a way, I know you will. And I'll be with you every second until then."
Ruby was silent.
"Will I?" she questioned, the words thick with pain, "Can I? Am I able to make the right choice?"
"Ruby…" Weiss tried.
"We failed in Atlas, Weiss," Ruby confessed, "I failed. Everything we did, everything we tried, every plan I made, everything I did, they all failed. Penny's dead, Salem has both the relics, Atlas, an entire Kingdom has fallen, we have no idea where Yang and Blake are, and to top it off we're being mind-controlled by a megalomaniacal killer robot slash mad scientist that makes Merlot look like a cute, fluffy beowolf!"
She was shouting by the end, shoulders shaking and blinking away tears.
Weiss was quiet, her expression softened as she reached out, slowly pulling the trembling girl into her arms. "It's okay," she whispered, as Ruby cried into her shoulder, "it's okay."
"How?" the girl cried, despairing.
"Because we saved people Ruby," Weiss responded, turning Ruby's sobbing gaze to meet her own, "We saved them. Thousands, tens of thousands! They're still alive because of us, because of you. Every single Atlesian that still lives because of you Ruby, you!"
"Thousands, out of how many? Ironwood-"
"Would have failed," Weiss cut in, voice hard, "He was panicked and paranoid. Salem ruled his every action. He was willing to sacrifice half of the entire kingdom, thousands upon thousands of innocent people, on the completely baseless assumption that Salem wouldn't be able to follow him. That she wouldn't even try."
She shook her head, wiping away Ruby's tears, "Ruby, listen to me. You made the right choice. The best-case scenario for Ironwood would have been him and the tatters of his kingdom flying away and just watching, doing nothing, as Salem wiped out the rest of Remnant. He would have ruled an empire of dead men, too paranoid and broken to take even the slightest risk to save anything or anyone. And the actual most likely scenario? Salem would have gotten up there anyway. She would have made a new Grimm type, or flown up with magic, or just stowed away on a smuggler's vessel or something. Because Salem doesn't just give up. Somehow, someway, she would have gotten up there, and then it would have been over."
She closed her eyes, pulling Ruby closer yet, "You made the right choice, "she whispered, "You did everything you could, to save as many people as you could. Ironwood wasn't even willing to try. And yes, you weren't able to save everyone. It's horrible, truly horrible, but never forget that every single one of the thousands you did save is someone who would have otherwise died. Every single one of them has you to thank for their lives. Every single one. Never regret that Ruby, never."
She held her there, cradling the despairing girl in her arms as nightmares flashed before both their eyes, whispers and screams and roars of monsters echoing through their souls. They held each other as the universe itself demanded their submission, tearing at their bonds, the dark bearing down on them ever-present.
"We'll get through this," she whispered, "we have to."
Silver eyes blinked away tears, their light almost seeming to glow in the dark.
With Menkaukhet's primary audience chamber currently buried under several thousand tons of rocks, the secondary court chamber had been hurriedly crafted into a throne room. Drab and insultingly bare, it was still the best place for an audience to be held until repairs were concluded, which, by Nectashet's calculations, wouldn't be for some three cycles hence.
The only upside is that this courtroom was somewhat closer to his lab than the primary chamber, and so after a short transit through the spacial conduits he marched through wide doors of his destination, finding the conversation already well underway.
Silencing her underling with an upraised palm, the Phaerakh's gaze turned to his own.
"Lord Cryptek Nectashet, Psychomancer of my illustrious Dynasty, master of a thousand secrets of the universe," She beckoned, eyes boring into his own with a totality of dominance, "After a concerning number of cycles without a proper address, I look forward to your… explanation to the state of my Crownworld."
"A thousand apologies, my eternal one," Nectashet yielded, bowing as low as one of his station would permit, "The most critical of the reconstruction effort, in conjunction with a multitude of other duties restricted my ability to deliver a satisfactory report until the present."
"The fact that we needed critical reconstruction at all, much less enough to preoccupy such a length of time is what concerns me so in the first place Cryptek. The acquisition of your services was not without considerable cost." She leaned forward, "This cost was paid in full, under the assumption you were worth said rather substantial price. Yet in lieu of an intact and fully functional crownworld to command upon my awakening, I find a pile of detritus barely worth the title of tombworld, much less the jewel of the Khethis Dynasty."
"This humble servant begs your forgiveness, Phaerakh Intetka, but my work is not to blame. Circumstances beyond predictability rendered them irrelevant."
"An Aeldari incursion is not 'beyond predictability'," she replied scornfully, "We knew they'd attempt to eliminate any sleeping tombworlds they discovered. The disruption matrix you designed was supposed to prevent such a possibility."
"In which, your eminence, it succeeded in doing for over sixty million years and was only undone through misfortune rather than concerted effort," he elaborated.
"Misfortune? You're telling me mere chance crippled my crownworld?" She leaned forward, "I assume you bring proof of this outlandish claim?"
"But of course," he replied, single eye flickering. A holographic view of the space above Menkaukhet flashed into existence, timestamp dating back some ten thousand years. In it two fleets of disparate yet similar vessels clashed, the void between them filled with unrelenting fury. As the Phaerakh watched the mightiest of the primitive vessels took aim at their opponent, searing light gathering on the tip of their massive underslung cannon. In a burning flash, enough energy to snap a battlecruiser in two was spat out, screaming across the empty void like the embodiment of rage.
And it missed.
Perhaps the vessel's cogitators were damaged, or its augers were scrambled, or a thousand other causes, but whatever the case, the mighty blow's predetermined detonation point passed without the intended detonation, sailing by its target with no effect, instead continuing onward to what just so happened to be behind the target.
The tombworld of Menkaukhet.
The impact and subsequent detonation shook the tombworld, and as visible cracks began forming in the planet's crust and devastation spread across the surface, Nectashet paused the hologram, his point self-evident.
"My defenses and preparations for the great sleep were primarily preventative in measure," he elaborated, "With our people indisposed, I knew that no bulwark or bastion, no matter how great, could guarantee our protection from an enemy which effectively possessed all the time in the universe. Rather than hope Menkaukhet would be able to wake us quickly enough to counter an attack, I decided the best option was to ensure we wouldn't be attacked in the first place."
"Your disruption matrix," Intetka growled, unimpressed but nevertheless waving the explanation forward.
"Indeed mighty Phaerakh. Loosely based on our Empyrean-Nullification Arrays and converted from the tombworld's original Null-Field Matrix, my own Disruption Matrix forcefully mimics, rather than nullifies, the surrounding empyrean and casts signals which in conjunction, hide your crownworlds from Aeldari foresight. This lessens the crownworld's resistance to the empyrean, but in turn rendered the Aeldari seers completely blind to us. To be precise, not only could they not find us, but they could not even see us. To the Aeldari, the Khethis utterly vanished. And yet…"
Nectashet turned, gazing upon the frozen frame of Menkaukhet breaking.
"My workings were designed to defend against the precise and calculated strikes of an overly-cautious foe, one who would systematically scour the galaxy of any sign or trace of us. Never in my calculations did I consider a species misusing one of their most powerful weapons to blow up, what was to them, a barren and lifeless hunk of rock. Their stupidity was beyond my predictive measures, and short of turning the planet into a World Engine, simply beyond my means to defend against."
He looked up at her, eye flaring, "They severely damaged my matrix, rendering our camouflage only partially effective. It took ten millennia more, but it was inevitable the Aeldari would find us. As it was, we owe the empyrean thanks. Without the Cicatrix Maledictum's formation, the Aeldari would have found us sleeping yet."
Movement caught Nectashet's eye, and he turned to see another noble, one which towered over the Cryptek, come to stand to his side.
"Which brings us back to my report," Overlord Agakhet rumbled, the grinding of Necrodermis sounding out as he knelt, "Great Phaerakh, if I may?"
"Indeed," Intetka agreed, "Nemesor Agakhet, please inform the Lord Cryptek of your observations."
"Of course, Great Phaerakh," The large noble turned to Nectashet, head ever so inclined in greeting, "As you no doubt know, I have purged the Aeldari from Menkaukhet."
"And managed to largely prevent exasperating any critical damage," Nectashet noted, the report running through his mind, "You have my gratitude."
"It was not as difficult a fight as I feared," the overlord admitted, "The Aeldari force was far smaller than predicted."
The Cryptek's eye flickered, "Oh?"
"It was only a handful of vessels. An Aconite frigate and a Solaris light cruiser. Total attack force barely numbered over two thousand. Moreover, the assault was disorganized, seemingly confused, and almost random in its execution. I… I have never seen such a poor display by our ancient foe. They were," The overlord's eyes bored into his own, "pathetic. Disturbingly so."
The room was silent for a moment, before Intetka leaned back, contemplating the two subordinates before her.
"I have read Agakhet's report," she finally said, "And my concerns mirror his own. The Aeldari, even at their worse, always have a plan. I have never heard nor seen them act so reckless and unthinkingly. So desperate. There is a variable in play that which we not yet discerned," she stood, gazing down on her subjects, "Yet even so, we have equally pressing issues. Nectashet. The damage to my crownworld?"
"Considerable, my liege. The entire tectonic plate in which the tomb is embedded shattered under the primitive's guns, and much of the tomb city was crushed in its throes. Thirty-seven percent of the complex was destroyed outright, while an additional fifty-eight percent lays buried. Only the most base protocols and systems remain active, and only one of the six necrodermis fabricators is currently operational. Repairs… are slow."
"How slow?"
"Eight to nine months for the most critical repairs. An additional two years until full functionality."
"Two years…" she mused, "and our military?"
"We lost most of our warriors," the Cryptek bluntly stated, "and a significant portion of our lighter constructs. The immortals and Monoliths remain mostly intact, though many are buried. As for our fleet… I regret to inform you of the loss of your flagship Atatotek, along with most of its escorts. Of the surviving vessels, the majority still require considerable repairs. As we stand only a handful of escorts and the Scythe-class Anrakep are intact enough for void operations."
The Phaerakh was still as he fell silent, staring at him with eyes that burned cold.
"And so," she spoke, voice as hard as the metal of her body, "to summarize, in the middle of the single greatest galaxy-wide disaster and demonic invasion seen in tens of millennia; we are vulnerable, crippled, and utterly exposed to anything and everything that wishes us harm, -and it will take, at minimum, years before we can have even a slight guarantee of protection. Am I wrong?"
The two overlords exchanged glances.
"It is so," Agakhet rumbled.
The Phaerakh leaned back, considering the confirmation.
"And my other tombworlds?" She demanded.
"Of the three in range," Nectashet supplied, "Psuset and Khamemes are silent, and likely sleep yet. Prehopses however, is displaying activity in its low-level processes, but minimal progression. Something has interrupted the world's awakening."
"Program failure or outside interference?"
"Unknown, and currently impossible to ascertain."
"Naturally," Intetka growled, "What of the neighboring dynasties? The Isephren and Ptolethis both owe considerable debts to us."
"The Ptolethis are silent and so likely remain in slumber, and the Isephren, while awake, are… preoccupied."
She leaned forward, "How preoccupied?"
Agakhet's voice cut in, low but clear, "The Empyrean."
Intetka's fists clenched the armrests of her throne, "Ah, The neverborn," she bit out.
"Indeed my liege," the Cryptek confirmed, "The full effects of the so-called 'Cicatrix Maledictum' have yet to reach us, but the Isephren dynasty was not so fortunate. They are contending with numerous neverborn incursions into their territory, some of which now threaten their crownworlds. Additionally, there are signs of activity among the worlds of the Seshekare dynasty. The Isephren's old rivals are awakening. If they are not already stretched thin, they soon will be."
"They are not the only ones," Agakhet spoke once more, "As the Cryptek stated, we've been fortunate, but it is only a matter of time before the Empyreal ones turn their gaze on this sector of space. Nor do I suspect this previous assault will be the last we see of the Aeldari. We will have to contend with both soon enough."
"Furthermore, the primitives, though slow, are not blind. They too will notice our active state eventually," Nectashet added.
"...And so we are bereft of choice or assistance, fears realized," the Phaerakh muttered darkly.
"Your eminence?"
"Nectashet, our operational escorts, composition and number?"
"Eleven Dirge frigates and seven Jackal raiders, great one. Enough to form a four and a half squadrons"
"That will do," she mused, "Nemesor Agakhet, prepare the Anrakep for immediate operation and assign two escort squadrons. Go to Prehopses and prepare the tombworld for my arrival. From this moment forth it is the capital of the Khethis Dynasty. Once secure we will transfer remaining critical assets from Menkaukhet."
"We are abandoning Menkaukhet?" The reaffirmed Nemesor asked.
"Yes, until such a time we possess the strength to properly defend the planet."
"The court will not-"
"Let me worry about that, Lord Cryptek," she dismissed, "In the meantime, you are to oversee the dismantling of Menkaukhet, as well as awaken lords Agara and Inedkare. They are to be assigned an escort squadron each, and tasked with awakening the rest of my Dynasty."
Nectashet's eye flickered, "The… entire dynasty my liege?"
"Indeed," the Phaerakh growled, "If our enemies wish to deny us respite and force us into the open, then they have no right to complain when all of us comply. The Khethis Dynasty sleeps in shadows no more."
"At once, great Phaerakh."
"By your will, my liege."
Intetka leaned back in her throne and with a wave dismissed them, and so with the meeting concluded the two marched from the room. But right as Nectashet left, the Phaerakh's voice stilled him.
"Lord Cryptek, I would seek a moment more."
"Of course, great one," silently cursing in his thoughts, he complied, moving to kneel before her throne once more.
She regarded him in silence for a moment, waiting until Agakhet had left the chamber before speaking.
"The Aeldari's assault was poor, and rather lackluster, no?" she began, tone light.
"Nemesor Agakhet believed so, and I have no cause to doubt him."
"He was correct, though several of their strike teams were able to make it past the defensive lines, during the initial confusion. They didn't prove a problem did they?"
"None of them made it within an ankt of my labs," he informed.
"Most impressive," she congratulated, "and yet… an alert was sounded by the crownworld's fabrication matrixes towards the end of the battle. Imagine my concern when I saw that my Lord Cryptek required an immediate body replacement and deployment due to 'primary unit inoperability'."
"A simple miscalculation in the management of my available assets, it won-"
"Silence," she said.
He fell silent.
"The two humans. I don't understand your interest in them, I can't fathom what you seek to gain from their study, and I'm not even curious how you got them. I simply don't care, Nectashet. Your fascination with these primitives is entirely your own." she leaned in, her eyes boring into his own, "But what I do care about is the possibility of these 'experiments' of yours managing to escape and wreak havoc upon this world, my world. We already have enough problems."
"It was a simple oversight my liege."
"Then I assume you've corrected this oversight?"
"..."
"Nectashet."
"Further measures would interfere with the experiments, the resulting data would be flawed."
"I DON'T CARE!" she roared, "one of these humans killed you, got loose and roamed the complex an unacceptable duration! Had she not been stupid enough to seek the freedom of her companion she might yet be free!"
He didn't respond.
Intetka took a breath she didn't need, then continued in a quieter, but still hard tone, "Even more concerning is that the Aeldari appear to have some interest in her. The fhaisorr'ko they referred to her as. 'A decisive point in the future they cannot predict'. Can you see the reason for my concern, light as it is for the moment?"
"Of course, mighty Phaerakh, and I completely concur. But I assure you, I will take no risk I am not certain of. If my research bears fruit, it will benefit the whole of the dynasty, and potentially beyond."
"The threshold of certainty you find tolerable seems to be somewhat lacking compared to my own, Lord Cryptek," she responded icily.
"Perhaps so," he conceded.
"And the purpose of this research?"
"I would dare not speak of it in detail until I have confirmed my line of thought is not a dead end, but it pertains to the subject of our souls."
"Our souls?" she repeated, skeptical, "That which has long been lost?"
"Not entirely," he stated.
She eyed him a moment more, before coming to a decision, "Very well. The subjects are yours to do with what you will, Cryptek, but no more 'oversights'. I will be assigning a phalanx of immortals to your lab, along with additional preventive measures. Continue your experiments, and I expect continuous updates on the validity of this line of research."
"A thousand thanks, Great Phaerakh," Nectashet praised, "The faith you have placed in me will not be unfulfilled."
"We'll see," she replied, "Now begone, Cryptek, I have many tasks before me."
He bowed one last time, and then left as fast as etiquette would permit him.