It happened all so quickly.
Very rarely was Delta the more mobile opponent. Sinclair had referred to him as a tank once or twice and he was certainly built like one. But when the Demo Daddy lashed out at him, Delta was sent scrambling.
Delta saw light sparking in the barrels of the shoulder mounted rockets and knew from experience with Rumblers and turrets that time was not his friend in moments like these. Too thrown off guard to summon up his telekinesis, Delta had no choice but to charge out of the way.
That first explosion of debris told Delta very quickly that this big daddy was not built with standard protection in mind. There was sea life growing along its body, signifying it had spent much of its time out in the depths and Alex was ever so eager to show off his creation.
"Oh now! That was terribly close, Delta! Wouldn't want to punch your ticket this soon into the show, that would be no good." He chided, cackling with the words. "Demo here keeps Rapture safe from the common rabble. Perhaps your superior can re-educate you some, Delta. You'll be welcomed back onto the force with open arms!"
As Alex went on about his own delusions, Delta gathered himself back up, or at least, tried to.
His limbs felt weak, jelly like as he stumbled to keep his composure. When he faced the Demo Daddy again, he could feel his heart beating away violently in his chest, more afraid than angry. The urge to turn tail and run presented itself strongly in his mind and were it not for the knowledge that this was undoubtedly the way to a relay signal, he might have just done that.
But the only way was forward and the Demo Daddy stood between it and he.
"Herr Delta!" Tenenbaum's voice sounded through the radio, panicked but coming with an attempt to help. "This thing you face, it is still apart of the series you were apart of, the helmet can be removed."
But how could he get to its helmet?
"This...Demo Daddy, I have seen blueprints for it, but I never expected Gilbert to create the creature. It was designed to guard Rapture's gates, to sink submarines and ships from the depths. You will be unable to penetrate its shell with a rivet."
Just like that he was left with a gun now rendered useless.
Delta saw the Demo's rockets heating up again and in a snap decision ripped a harpoon from the quiver with his telekinesis, taking clumsy aim in his haste. The spear fired off towards the larger big daddy and it, at the very least, was able to change the Demo's focus. Lifting its shield clad arm up to protect itself. His harpoon struck the metal and with barely a scratch, bent and went spinning off in the opposite direction. Useless.
While Delta tried to come up with another plan of attack, the Demo seemingly changed it's own tactics. Delta recognised the way it's body lowered slightly, tensed up under the thick armour just before it charged. There was nowhere to go when the Demo got moving in such close quarters.
Panicked, Delta drew his drill up, trying to time the movement to strike the Demo's side as he moved. Unable to stop the forward force, but attempting to throw its weight off in a different direction and divert the power of the attack off course.
He found some success as the Demo struck his drill and it's weight veered off the side, but he was unable to completely spare his body the blow. The Demo's side striking his other arm. The force of the impact raced up his arm from hand to shoulder and Delta felt something give way with an audible snap.
Bellowing Delta tried to reach for his damaged arm only to once again recall he could not do so with the drill attached and was forced to let it hang limp at his side. Behind him the Demo had struck the wall, shield becoming imbedded in it momentarily. Giving Delta just enough time to assess the state of his body.
Pain came screaming up his side quickly and Delta grit his teeth to keep from screaming yet again. But his fingers twitched and he could still move his wrist and arm slightly. Dislocated perhaps? It would be better than a break, but he could not snap it back into place himself. Not right now when his focus had to stay on where the Demo's attacks where coming from.
He needed more space between them. The theatre provided little, but if he were to go into the backstage area again he'd be trapped in the corridor with this beast and if it charged him again with no room at all, he'd surely be crushed under the force of it.
Terrified and with few options, Delta opted to dash in the opposite direction of the Demo. Taking his eyes off it for even a moment was frightening but he needed to find some sort of footing if he was going to survive this.
That thing was going to kill him at this rate and Delta knew he couldn't call out for anyone. Perhaps if Atlas heard him screaming he'd come to find him, but if the other man did that then he'd no doubt be killed by the Demo as well and for as scared as he was, Delta wouldn't risk it.
He had to deal with the monster himself.
Monster.
Delta's mind halted briefly. Thinking of enemies in terms of mindless creatures made the job easier, but that was a big daddy behind him. Not all that different to himself. It was another person that had been strapped down as he had, experimented on, torn away from whatever humanity they'd once have.
It was just someone like him. Someone like him that was not lucky enough to remember themselves and have a second chance.
Who ever was inside that metal tomb now - they weren't coming back.
Delta skid to a halt, turning his attention on a dime from defence to offence. He'd get no where by fleeing from this thing and even if he out ran it, then the person that was stuck inside of there would continue to live on in that semi-conscious hell that Delta had once known.
It became a matter of mercy rather than one of necessity. He needed to get through the Demo Daddy's hard outer shell to reach the person inside and put a stop to this.
Boot slammed down onto the ground, Delta found his footing again. He only needed to calm down and think through the pain for a moment.
Plasmids didn't quite take with him, Alex's words rung in his head and on command Delta summoned up what he held and the opponent lacked.
As the Demo Daddy jerked it's shield free, tearing away with it a large chunk of the wall, Delta summoned up a decoy. Placing it off to the opposite side of the theatre, to give him some space and time. Fortunately the other big daddy's sight seemed more limited than his own, movements slower and heavier it turned to face the fake while Delta was able to gather himself back up.
Armour too thick to pierce with a bullet. A helmet that could be removed, armed to the nines with a shield strapped to its arm that his harpoons bounced right off. The odds were not in Delta's favour, not without careful use of his EVE.
Most of which had been used just getting to this point. Keeping the decoy solid and moving was using up even more but Delta desperately needed the time. As the Demo followed after the EVE conjured figure, Delta tried to think of what trick he might have up his sleeve for this.
There was one that he hesitated on.
ADAM was an incredible thing and there was plenty he could do that normal men just couldn't, but this did not mean he was without limitations on what his body to handle. What plasmids he could use without harm to himself. If he were not careful there were certain plasmids that could take him down with an opponent.
Which was exactly why he had only used Gravity Well once before.
Aching horribly, Delta forced his arm up slightly, feeling the pressure of the plasmid growing between his fingers slowly. The force mounting second by second as the Demo seemed to realise something was amiss with the target it had followed. Bullets passing through its body.
Delta needed more time.
Slowly the massive form of the Demo's body turned slightly, seeking him out and seeing through the facade. It took awhile for the Demo to figure out where he was and with its limited sight took even longer to properly locate him.
A few more precious seconds.
The pressure was building more, Deltas fingers twitched and fought against the strain of the plasmid as it pulled at him. Trying to draw all matter into its centre, including its wielder. Delta needed to stand more firmly, legs parted and locked as he held his drill beneath his wounded arm. Keeping it steady and up as bit by bit the plasmid grew. A dark mass between his fingers, beginning to leak between them and slip out across the empty space before him. Black tendrils seeking out more to draw into it.
The working theory was that even the Demo's hard protective casing wouldn't be able to resist the force inside of the plasmid. If it could crush or crack even a little bit of it's armour then Delta could break the rest of it away.
It was the best hope he had.
It sucked down more and more EVE, taking all it could to sustain itself and grow, leaving Delta weaker by the second and still trying to drag him inside. But he needed to make it larger. It was his best shot of getting anywhere, it was a risk he had to take or he'd be good as dead against this larger opponent.
Finally having located him in earnest the Demo tensed once again. If it was out of bullets or simply saw this as a more effective means of attacking Delta, he couldn't tell. But it was once again preparing to charge.
Just a little more. Delta had to hold his ground until the last possible moment. To give himself the best chance of success and although his bones screamed in protest and the plasmid grew ever stronger, he held firm.
Finally the Demo charged and Delta, in the same moment, released the Gravity Well.
The plasmid shot beyond his fingers, dragging with it his weight for a moment so Delta had to pull himself back. As it flew through the air, collecting bits of debris and fallen bullet shells, the Demo nearly struck it head on. Instead it barely missed the big daddy and planted itself at the Demo's heels, pulling its charge to a stuttering halt. As if confused the Demo attempted to step away only to find the drag of the plasmid fighting against it, pulling it towards its centre.
Briefly a sense of hope flared up inside of Delta as the Demo wavered, struggling to find its footing and not fall back into the pull of the well. That hope diminished slightly as it surged forward, placing all its weight downwards, fighting against the pressure and while it was dragged a few inches back, it didn't fall.
Going forward meant getting closer to the centre of the well and increasing the chances that he'd be pulled in as well, but Delta had no choice.
This time he was the one charging forward. Kicking off the ground and rushing towards both the big daddy and the active plasmid. The Demo was forced to raise it's shield to protect itself from the strike of his drill.
Crashing into the other large body, Delta's drill came screaming into life, jammed against its shield and causing it to dent, the most damage he'd delt to the Demo thus far.
Braced against the brunt of the Demo Daddy's riot shield, Delta was able to keep himself from being sucked in to the plasmid though it's drag pulled stronger on him every second, beginning to reach the peak of its life. Knowing he was running short on time, Delta put all his weight behind one final shove to throw the Demo back.
It's balance was lost and the Demo tipped back, falling towards the gravity well.
For a moment Delta thought that was it, he'd done it. Only to be taken off guard when the Demo reached out with one hand and snatched his wounded arm. He screamed in pain and panic as it pulled him along as well, both of them falling towards the black mass of the plasmid centre.
Fortunate for them both that it snapped shut just before either one of them fell too deeply into it. The ensuing outward explosion of all the force it had accumulated tossed both the Demo and Alpha series big daddies across the room. Delta had less weight and so despite being further away from the explosion he traveled the furthest, striking the wall opposite them both and crumpling to the ground.
His vision swam in and out of focus, disorientated and in pain, Delta lay there for a moment, unable to so much as lift his head, let alone get back up.
A small distance from himself the Demo was in much the same state. Thought unlike Delta it began to move again fairly soon after the initial impact.
Seeing the massive armoured big daddy slowly pull itself upright, Delta's heart sank.
He'd tried his best…
But there was always going to be a bigger bad in Rapture. He might have been a bit foolish to think he'd be the biggest of them.
A wave of fatigue washed over Delta as the Demo rose back to its full height, though he noted with some satisfaction that he'd been right. The gravity well had shattered parts of the Demo's armour, exposing the mutated skin beneath in places.
Funny, the body under all that armour looked so frail…
Unable to move, Delta had to watch as the Demo approached him. Each heavy step causing the ground to shake as it drew closer. Delta had been on death row for a while now, reaching Eleanor the only chance he had out of it, though even that had been a bit of a long shot.
To be honest, his greatest regrets surrounded others. He thought of his little girl, still needing him, somewhere in Rapture. Sinclair, Tenenbaum, the girls that all needed him to get them to the surface. And Atlas who most certainly could not look after himself while alone in Rapture.
It was one final effort to try and get up, just thinking of them forced Delta to at least try and get back to his feet, even if he wouldn't stand a chance.
That effort was cut short as the Demo's heavy boot landed on his chest plate, forcing Delta right back down with a painful thud. All he had to look at now in his dizzy vision was the Demo Daddy's helmet, knowing it could be removed but just never would be hurt a bit despite everything.
The guns hidden just beneath the Demo Daddy's shield lifted, pointing its fist in his direction to aim up a clean shot to the head. Ha...at least it had no sense of sadism. A quick kill. Delta could appreciate that.
What he could not appreciate was Alex's jeering voice coming to accompany his demise. "Looks like we have a new champion ladies and gents! Oh but what a show you put on for us, Delta! Should have expected as much from the famed Johnny Topside! And here's your reward."
Alex told him this was his reward with a long dead name and Delta truly wished he had some better parting words to hear.
Only, the gun never fired.
Instead the Demo Daddy seemed to recoil violently.
A sudden jerk upward, gun tearing away from the aim it had taken towards his head and then the rest of its body followed. Alex let out a shout of angered confusion as his supposed crowning achievement stumbled back from the downed Alpha Series.
The sound it let out was similar to Delta's pained roars, the unmistakable bellow of a big daddy in agony. The Demo tried reaching for it's head but didn't seem able to muster even that. Shaking its head violently as it stumbled back away from Delta hastily.
Alex shouted demands, told the Demo to finish it's job or be fired itself. Asked what it thought it was doing slacking on the job. All of it seemed to go right over the Demo's head, not a single command heeded as it screamed again.
Even as he lay there, in agony himself, Delta couldn't help but feel that the sound was so utterly miserable. He empathised, with that pain, he truly did.
Then, without explanation, the Demo tore out of the showroom. Delta was still laying there as it fled the battle it had rightfully won.
Leaving him with only Alex's bewildered security bot for company.
But it gave Delta time. Gave him a moment to breathe and try to get through the pain.
With what limited EVE he had left, Delta tried to focus his telekinesis, needing to truly focus all his attention on the action, just so he could push his shoulder back into place with another snap and groan of pain.
Left panting, ragged and beaten, Delta was trying to pick up his pieces, understand what had just happened. His vision tipped and turned unpleasantly when he looked up, seeking out some evidence of the Demo Daddy lurking nearby in some strange tactic to kill him.
But there was to sign of the other beast left in sight and Delta was left baffled. Alive, but baffled.
Alex had gotten over his own shock to be livid. "What a defective product! Though I do suppose there were still some kinks to work out…" He grumbled thoughtfully, the bot spinning above Delta's head as he slowly sat up, every little movement causing another wave of nausea and pain.
Noticing his movement, Alex's drone flew down close to his face for a moment, looking just livid. As livid as a flying bot of annoyance could at least.
"No. I made no error, my creations are perfect! This is your doing!" It accused though Delta hardly saw how he had anything to do with that. He'd been completely helpless and the Demo just...left.
Ran from him even.
Delta could make no sense of it, but he was relieved all the same.
A few more seconds passed of Alex mumbling to himself, cursing and thorising before seemingly stopping in the air. Silent and hovering in place. An idea occurring to it. "Ah...of course. The source material must be the cause of this."
Then Alex was back in his face again, tone having completely changed.
"Would you like to see something, Delta?" Alex's voice sneered, dripping with some vindictive glee. Revenge was his intent, Delta would assume. "Something of a little 'welcome home' gift. You must be feeling terribly alone out here and rather pitiful after the beating you just took. So how's about a little pick me up?"
Alex never really sought consent, not that Delta could have given or refused it either way. He'd have no choice but to see what Alex put before him.
Left there alone on the theatre stage, he did feel rather isolated. Something about this whole thing tugging at a memory in him. It would be an unpleasant memory if he were to retrieve it and so Delta left it be.
However, Alex only provided him with another.
What he was given was a show not unlike the one Stanley Poole had once presented to him. Lights all but shutting off, a projection shot up before him and the sinking sense of dread that told Delta he didn't want to know what it was Alex had.
He expected to see himself. Young and still human, as he had in Dionysus Park. Instead what he saw was Alex from a different life. When he was the young and human one.
The doctor stood in front of the camera lens, seemingly adjusting it to his preferences.
The moment he spoke Delta got the idea as to what this would be. A record of their crimes.
"I have started the recording for today's procedure. I would like to allow you a few moments to organise your thoughts. Prays and the like." Gilbert's voice droned into existence as the doctor fiddled with the camera. It faced the medical table, turned upright with a man strapped to its surface with too many binds to count.
Ragged, near skeletal and littered with wounds that must have been self inflicted and medical - Walter looked unlike the man he'd once been.
But as he raised his head the slight distance he could, tangled, filthy hair falling over his face and despite the poor quality of the recording, Delta could still make out the sharpness of his eyes. Not lost to insanity or pain just yet.
Muddled as his memory was, Delta was struck with a sense of responsibility. Knowing that this had to have been his fault. Walter, a man who he could only barely recall as a friend, this had become his fate as well?
Because Johnny had found Rapture and Walter had found it in him to befriend the outsider.
This was a record of not only Alexander Gilbert's crimes - but also his own.
For that reason, Delta couldn't look away.
…
...
"How very kind of you." Walter rasped, not an ounce of gratitude in his voice.
Gilbert seemed to pause on him for a moment. Something passing through his mind that ran just shy of compassion. But his work remained a top priority and the life of an erased man wouldn't sway him among so many other names blotted out by Ryan.
"I suggest you use the remainder of your time wisely." Gilbert told him, tone even and lacking cruelty despite his callousness. There was no maliciousness in him, simply a lack of mercy.
Walter watched as the doctor left the room, perhaps to give him some sense of privacy even though every camera in the place was trained on him, offering no such reprieve.
In front of him the bulky recorder sat and Walter considered it idly for some time. Feeling dulled knowing that no matter what words he might leave in it, they'd no doubt be tossed aside. At best this was some final comfort, Walter did not believe they'd keep his voice in that box for long. Perhaps it was passed to each test subject. Their variation of a final meal in the form of some sense of self value before the loss of self came rushing up to greet them.
And yet, Walter felt the need to speak.
He'd painted for no one, written words for no one and if he spoke for no one besides his own ears now it might as well be something he felt worth hearing for himself.
But the words didn't flow freely to his mind and the artist was left to stare at what would serve as his final moments, unable to find the worth in anything he had to say for himself.
"Seems, I've run out of poetry." He mused with a dry smile. Unable to truly mourn that loss now everything was ending.
If there was no poetry left in him, perhaps a little honesty wouldn't go amiss.
"Looks like I've failed as a brother. I know that right now you'll be searching for me, Lewis and I pray you will never see me again. I won't really be myself anymore, better you not see my walking corpse. My only solace is thinking...that just maybe in protecting one of those children as a beast, perhaps one day they'll be themselves again when I cannot. You'd have liked that, Lewis."
His brother was the first on his mind. The last of his family. The one that had so eagerly brought them to Rapture to begin with. He should have argued with him the day Ryan's invitation arrived. Should have fought for the surface even once. He'd never fancied being under the waves, but Lewis would have gone alone had he refused.
Knowing that now, Walter couldn't help but be relieved he had come down here. At least Lewis hadn't been alone in this underwater grave.
Though, he would be now.
There were not many things left on Walter's mind. Nothing of great importance anyway. His works? They'd decay in time, the words fading and paint chipped. They were never made to last. Just a moment of beauty and colour to admire.
Well. There was one thing left. Though Walter doubted that his position was any better than his friend's.
"Johnny… you little idiot. Now we both die like this." Walter laughed, only to cough and hack horribly a moment later. Body shaking in his restraints.
He did so hope that he didn't have enough sanity left to feel when they started grafting his body to those metal abominations.
Sighing after his coughing fit, Walter attempted to look towards the ceiling but his worn body wouldn't even move that much. He doubted he would survive the procedure himself. They'd put so much ADAM into him but seemed to disregard his human needs for all else. Dying hadn't scared him in the past, though he'd be a liar to say that now the prospect didn't hold some weight to it. The waiting was what got him the most. That or the burning hatred that coiled away in his broken chest for the city that had fallen around them.
"Though...maybe not. You're strong, my boy...so very strong and so very, very good. I know you'll give them hell. I have to believe that." Walter murmured, thinking that if anyone would survive this, it would be Johnny. Stronger and kinder than he rightly should have been, but too naive for his own good. Walter admired that as much as it had concerned him.
He'd been right to fear for Johnny.
Now here they were.
After a moment, Walter decided he wanted to leave on good terms in a sense. Even if it was all for himself and Johnny never heard these final sentiments.
"When you arrived...I don't think I'd ever met someone so incredibly unlike myself. You were unbearably irritating to be honest. So loud and open hearted. You truly put me to shame. I valued that in you, and I wished every day you'd leave this city before it swallowed you up. It breaks my heart to know what we've done to you. To people like you."
Sighing softly, Walter lamented. "From the bottom of my heart, I wish we'd never met. At least you'd have been spared this."
Walter had thought himself too exhausted to muster up any emotion beside hatred. For himself, for Rapture, for mortal men. But apparently there was strength enough left in him to mourn. To feel such a deep, guttural sort of grief that for a moment there was a sting to his eyes that he couldn't force away with pride alone.
And with so little time left, Walter allowed for a bit more honesty.
"But just for a moment, it was nice to feel like the sun had come to Rapture for the first time. I had almost forgotten what warmth felt like until you reminded me."
Pausing, Walter relayed his words to himself and chuckled wearily at his own nonsense. The soft sound of laughter thick as his throat tightened up.
He managed to laugh even as he heard the tell-tale thunk and squeal of the doors being unlocked.
"Huh...look at that…" Walter mused. "...seems like I had a little poetry left in me for you." The doors slid open and the audio diary began to run short and Walter closed his eyes, not needing to focus on the world in front of him when the one behind his eyes was a sun bathed one.
"I'll see you on the other side, Johnny...but please, take your time."
Walter had run out of his own.
…
…
The footage ran out as Gilbert returned to the room and turned it off. Taking with him the last image he'd likely ever see of his old friend. Leaving with him the memory of final words he didn't know had been left for him.
Now sitting there, understanding washing over him, sickly and unwelcome. Knowing now who the unknown person in the Demo's shell must have been. Still frail under the armour. Still somewhere in there.
Delta remembered. The smell of drying paint, musty books and Walter's patient voice.
And he screamed.