Dreamscape
7/15/17 - 3:35 PM
The last of the targets collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
"Excellent work." Aegis nodded. "Your time to kill has notably decreased."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're timing this?"
He nodded again. "Yes."
I smiled. "I do my best. What's next?"
"I believe I promised you a different kind of lesson after my main one today. One which involves knowing our language, of which you previously expressed interest in."
"That's right. I'm ready."
"Good. Though, this will be taught differently than what you are used to," Aegis said. "There is little time for traditional instruction. The transfer will primarily be done via telepathy."
"Will it hurt?"
He shook his head. "No, but it will disorient you. The initial transfer will be limited, as you remain an adolescent, and large transfers could have negative effects. However, it will be sufficient, and is the safest option for now."
"So, I'll be able to talk in Ethereal Script?"
"Unlikely. It will take some time for an alien to speak it properly, but you will be able to discern texts, even if you will initially lack certain contexts. Ethereal Script is not a one-to-one translation - as a language, it is more similar to Mandarin or Japanese, to use Human equivalents. If you were fluent in either, I expect you would adapt quicker. Do you have any other questions?"
I shrugged. "Sounds good to me. I guess we can start now."
With a wave of his hand, a board appeared in the air with some….glyphs on it. It sort of looked like a crossover between cursive and normal characters, with a series of shapes seemingly incorporated into some of the 'words'.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
A moment later, a single finger touched my forehead. I felt a barrage of letters and words I couldn't fully comprehend flow into my mind. My whole body froze as I felt...I don't know how to say it. It was like a lesson from a teacher, but plugged right into your head. Only it wasn't just one lesson, it was tens, if not hundreds, being shoved into your brain. Yet, it didn't feel messy at all. It had an odd order to it.
Letters.
Words.
Names.
Syllables.
Vowels.
Punctuation marks.
It felt like so much, yet it still felt simple.
I looked at the letters on the board, and something shifted in my brain as I began to understand what I was looking at. The first...word turned from gibberish into "The sky", the second became "is blue", and the third group became "and the grass is green".
It was all over as soon as it began. I gasped, my head pounding as I fell to my knees, groaning and gripping my head as I stared at the board, trying to concentrate.
"Aegis, the board sys 'The sky is blue and the grass is green, right?"
He nodded. "Correct. Good job. You can read it now, but it will take you some practice to speak it fluently."
I groaned, rubbing my forehead. It didn't hurt so much as feel annoying. "I'm guessing talking to Caelior can help?"
"Indeed. I would assist you, but I am quite busy this week. Next time we have a lesson, I will spare some time to help you."
"Thanks. That...was an experience."
"It was a pleasure." He nodded. "I will send a language program to your device later to assist in informing you of nuances that do not come from technical knowledge, should you wish to learn more. Good work today - I will see you in several days."
He left the simulation, his body dematerializing from the Dreamscape. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, as I departed a second later. I felt a bit better, but was still having...thoughts. A word in Ethereal Script here, a vowel pronunciation there- ugh.
I shrugged, pulling out my phone, texting Caelior.
You free in a few hours? Got something to show you.
As I closed the app, my eyes drifted over to my texts. I scrolled through my contacts, most of them friends from school. We had a group chat so we could all stay in touch after high school, and for the most part, we talked on there.
Well...in my case, 'talked' was pushing it. For security reasons, I hadn't mentioned the PRIESTs, and talking about being in XCOM was out of the question. It made me feel a little jealous, watching them post selfies and pictures of whatever it was they did - a selfie with an alien client, a party, their latest boyfriend or girlfriend - and I couldn't do any of that. -One selfie would raise a ton of eyebrows, as it's not exactly normal for someone to have golden eyes and honeycombed skin without any explanation.
Hell, I'd even have JULIAN pretend to be me sometimes, posting fake info and fake photos to give me a 'false life' for them, to dissuade any suspicion. Far as they knew, I was a typical ADVENT soldier who just got shipped out to one of the American legions.
It pained me a little, having to lie to them. A small part of me wished that one day, I could tell them who I'd really become. I knew that day may never come - I could die, they all could die, so many morbid yet real possibilities. But it was a sacrifice I had to make, and I accepted it.
And hey, I had plenty of friends here. Granted, all of them a bit older than me (in some cases, centuries older, but who's counting?) who would give me looks whenever I made a pop culture reference or showed them a meme they were too out of touch to understand - but we were friends because of so much more. Fighting aliens, kicking ass, our experiences, our goals, our...well, our camaraderie, really.
Whether it was the stupid jokes we told, our stories about where we came from, our families, what we wanted in the future- there was something about it that, in the end, felt wholesome.
I know - one wouldn't think the words "wholesome" and "XCOM" could go together, but lo and behold, they did.
In a way, it felt like one of those YA books I read- they were a sort of guilty pleasure for me. It was ironic just how similar my case was: teenage girl finds out she has some kind of power or skill, joins a movement to defeat an evil government, and so on.
Of course, there were some obvious differences, like none of those stupid love triangles where two guys fawned over me for some stupid, contrived reason, or me being an overpowered superhero right out of the gate.
But that was all fake, written by authors who just wanted to tell a story. Much as it seemed, I was quite real. But I was fine with that. For all the shit I had to worry about - dying, losing others - while the worry was still there, I made damn sure to never forget what Bronis told me.
Dawn, what you need to understand is that it's not just victories left and right here. Here, things can get ugly. Things will get ugly. And there is a very good chance things will get uglier. But that doesn't mean things'll stay that way forever. We will turn this war around, Dawn.
Words to live by indeed- and it sounded even cooler with his Russian accent. Kinda made me want to have an accent, besides the one I had. It was the stereotypical 'y'all' style southern accent, but it wasn't too thick. My comrades would occasionally poke fun at how I pronounced certain words, and my somewhat frequent usage of 'ain't'.
But it was all in the name of fun. We all poked fun at each other one way or another - it made the place feel more like a family.
And, in the end, for me at least, that made things a little easier.
Because in times like these, you had to treasure such things.
Because you never knew when you were going to lose them.
Armory, Praesidium
7/17/17- 11:34 AM
The simulation was over, and, I had to admit, it was pretty fun. Doing a live-fire sim in one of the open arenas was fun. We couldn't use the Dreamscape, as all the orbs had been allocated for the day, but it still had its moments.
I took off the helmet of my psi armor and hung it up in my designated locker space in the armory, right next to my gun. The locker was a neat little thing - you had to unlock it with a hand scanner, and it had your last name (and first initial) on it. Not to mention it had , and made a charming little beeping sound when you opened or closed it.
The Aurora armor was a beauty. I loved the slick, black look of the suit, with the XCOM logo slapped right on its chest. Like something you'd see in a sci-fi movie brought to life. It outdid the PRIEST armor in every way - looks, protection, durability, and, of course, the Cool Factor. Having some free physical and mental psionic shields was a massive bonus, too. The suit itself didn't feel clunky at all - once you put on the required undersuit, it fit like a dream - leg armor first, then the torso and arms, then, finally, the helmet, which looked like a pimped-out biker helmet with a green visor. The whole suit of armor was like a second skin. It supposedly weighed about 45 kilograms, but the gene mods made that added weight almost irrelevant.
The inside of the helmet was like something from a video game - you had a (admittedly minimal) HUD, with a map of allies and the immediate area. It ran diagnostics on your armor and weapon, displaying their condition. It even warned you if your Psi rifle was in danger of being damaged due to overfiring, which was really useful. On top of all of that, it watched your vitals, \ alerted you if any parts of your body got hit, and also had built-in toxin detectors, and even a Geiger counter to detect radiation.
If I didn't know any better, I'd say the whole getup would've looked like Power Ranger armor, but vastly more useful and practical overall.
I'd then have to strip down to my undersuit, which covered my entire body, save for my head. Protocol was to then go to a nearby locker room and put back on regular clothes, which I'd also stored in my locker. I watched as the others removed their armor, save for the MEC Pilot Wei Liuxian, who operated the Goliath MEC, and had, like Sierra, undergone MEC 2.0. I had to admit, I was jealous.
I was about to open my mouth when I felt something at the back of my mind. It felt...odd.
"Dawn, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Wei. I'm just...something's wrong."
She raised an eyebrow. "What-"
A klaxon alarm blared, causing me to jump a bit in surprise.
"Attention. Attention. Enemies detected near the Praesidium. The Atlas Protocol is in effect immediately."
"Drill?"
Wei nodded. "Go!"
I nodded, running out from the armory and looking for the guidance signs, remembering the e-mail I'd gotten a few days before. It was a bit lengthy, but, in short, it went something like this:
"Because you're our only biopath, and you dying in a potential base attack would be a massive loss to us, your protocol is to haul your ass to the designated Gateway and wait for further instructions."
I ran the instructions through in my head. Run past the barracks and R&D, I chanted. Haul ass to the designated gateway. Which was, in this case, a gateway to one of XCOM's Firestorm bases, located just outside of Bocas del Toro, Panama.
Wait, stop-don't think about that, Dawn! Act like it's real!. If you don't take this shit seriously, you're gonna end up dead, no question. Move it!
As I dashed for the room, countless other soldiers and scientists ran past me. Some soldiers were in armor, brandishing various weapons - I even noticed one carrying a Gamma Gun. All the scientists were going in the same direction I was, so I followed them. I felt out of place in the crowd, as I was the only one not wearing a science or engineering uniform.
I turned a corner, following the small crowd as we passed more science labs. I rarely ever came down here, as the only reason I had was to go see the Shoggoths in their not-so-natural habitat; cutting through here was a useful shortcut. The alarm kept blaring and blaring as I ran. They weren't anything like what I had at my school - then again, few things were, here.
As I moved, several contraptions dropped out of the ceiling or popped out of the floor. Some floor tiles near me shifted to reveal a laser turret, while what looked like a nanite launcher came out of the ceiling, scanning the area. Must be those traps. They sort of reminded me of what I could find on the attack on XCOM's other base, the Citadel.
I made my way past the labs, hearing what sounded like an explosion a ways behind me. Part of me wanted to turn and look, but my better half told me to keep going. My heart was beating like a horse's as I was trying to simultaneously follow the herd of scientists and ignore the blaring of the alarms.
Just get to the damn Gateway.
I finally made it to the Gateway room, feeling a bit winded. Since many of the others were taller than me, it was hard to find the proper Gateway. Reading up on the layout of the escape route was different than actually running through it amidst the chaos.
C'mon, damnit! Bocas Gateway, where are you?
"Dawn, over here!"
I turned my head, noticing Lily to my far left waving a hand. She stood out in her orange jumpsuit, with a bunch of tools strapped to her waist. I rushed over to her - we hadn't met up in a while, as we'd been busy with our respective jobs.
"Where're you going?" she called.
"Bocas. You?"
"Well, damn. I'm going there too. C'mon, it's over here. Follow me!"
I followed her to a Gateway which several people were entering. The Gateway officer looked at us and nodded - here, there was no need for ID.
The two of us went through the Gateway- which felt like going through one of Kunio's portals, oddly enough, and came out into a much smaller Gateway room, filled with some XCOM scientists and engineers, along with a surprised-looking Gateway officer. He looked at the two of us for a second, shook his head, and shut down the Gateway.
"Travelers are through, gate's shut down! No travel allowed back to XCOM until the drill is over!"
I turned to Lily as the Gateway shut down. "So...do we wait?"
She shrugged. "I guess. Hey, you ever seen a Firestorm before?"
I shook my head. "Can't say I have."
She grinned. "Follow me."
Five Minutes Later
We stood in the hangar, looking at the pilotless Firestorm, sitting there, waiting to be used.
"So your dad built this?"
She nodded happily. "Well, designed, but yeah. Pretty neat, isn't it?"
I ran a hand along its left wing, looking at the sleek, picturesque silver surface. She was wrong. It wasn't just neat, it was a goddamned work of art. I hadn't paid much attention to them in the media I'd watched, but, damn if it didn't look majestic.
"It's pretty big. Must have a lot of weapons."
She chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. Dad always was creative. He put all the passion he could into his work, and then some."
"No doubt about it. I'm sure he'd be proud of what you've done here for XCOM. The SPARKs speak for themselves."
She smiled. "Thanks, Dawn."
I had an idea. "Tell me something, Lily," I said, with a sudden grin.
"Uh, sure."
"Do you think you could jump over this thing?"
She raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"
My grin widened"Watch this. Might want to step back."
"Ooookay….."
I moved backwards, walking away from the Firestorm until I was a few meters away, bending my legs like a track runner before taking off running towards the aircraft. One of my more favorite activities while exercising here was to see just how much my body could do with MELD in it- and one of those was inhuman levels of jumping.
"Dawn, watch out-"
When I was close enough to it, I jumped, throwing myself into the air as my enhanced muscles propelled me over the craft, landing on the other side feet-first, like a cat, feeling the adrenaline rush through me. I hit the ground with a thump and stood up. Lily rolled her eyes.
"Show-off."
"Says the person who makes killer robots."
"Says the space mage who can control minds."
"Heh. Fair enough."
We stood in silence for a few minutes, simply just staring at the inert Firestorm.
"I, um...I'm sorry about your dad."
"Thanks," she said. "It's been hard, but I'll avenge him eventually. Best I can do is keep working here, making new inventions to help XCOM win. Who knows, maybe one of them will kill Patricia one day."
"You're smart, Lily. Much smarter than me. I have no doubt you'll come up with something."
She looked at me. "Not really, no."
"Huh?"
"Let me explain what I mean, Dawn," she said, lifting a hand. "Yes, when it comes to mechanics and engineering and such, yes. I am smarter than you in that field. However, in your field of psionics, you're far more knowledgeable than me. So, while it's true that I'm smarter than you in some cases, you're also smarter than me in other cases. It balances out. I'm not a psion. Hell, I don't even know if I'd be a good psion. I don't know anything about melting cells or controlling minds."
"Lily, there's not really such a thing as a bad psion in XCOM," I told her. "Any psion can be effective somehow, no matter how high or low their Trask Level is. It's all about committing time to it and improving, just like what you do, just applied differently. Where engineers brainstorm and draw up designs, us psions experiment with our minds and what they can do. Same thing with shooting - you practice and try to get better with every shot. It's all about improvement at the end of the day."
She considered what I said for a moment. "What's it like, talking to Aegis and Caelior on a daily basis? There are some aliens in engineering who are nice, but I've rarely spoken to our resident Ethereals."
"They're pretty nice," I said, smiling. "First glance, they might come off as intimidating, but they're cool. You can learn a lot from them, too. You'd be surprised at the shit they've seen. I'm very good friends with Caelior. Want to meet him sometime?"
She waved off the question. "Nah, I'm good. Listening to Andromedons bicker about design flaws is enough for me. I-"
Our phones buzzed simultaneously.
"Oh, drill's over. Time to go back." I checked my messages, putting my phone back in my pocket. "Was there something else you wanted to talk about?"
"Nah, I'm good. I have work to do. See you later, Dawn."
"See you, Lily."
I followed her back through the Gateway, where I parted ways with her to go back to the barracks. Armored soldiers and staff were rushing to and fro, seemingly finished with whatever had happened.
Better ask my bunkmates later what actually happened.
I stopped by the armory to change back into normal fatigues. Much as I liked wearing the armor, you really couldn't walk around casually in it. I went back to the eerily empty barracks and went to the shared fridge, pulling out leftovers from yesterday and climbing into bed, stripping off my boots and socks and changing into more casual wear before digging in.
One thing I loved about the barracks was the somewhat relaxed dress code- if you could even really call it that. While you could wear 'casual' clothes everywhere, fatigues were preferred - and I couldn't exactly walk around the Praesidium in a t-shirt and shorts while barefoot - god forbid in my pajamas. Ha! The thought of that was kinda funny. While I loved the look and feel of the fatigues and boots they gave us, wearing them constantly got old after a while.
Not to say they had just those for us to wear. XCOM had a lot of clothing provided for us, more than one would think - swimsuits, socks, sweatshirts, underwear, caps; the list went on, and all you had to do was ask for it in your barracks requisition terminal. I, myself, was a fan of the XCOM sweater, akin to what the previous Central Officer wore.
What was his name again? Bradford or something? I'd have to ask Iosif next time.
On the other hand, I had my presentation with the Commander tomorrow.
Hopefully I'd do fine in front of the man himself.
Dreamscape
7/18/17- 11:05 AM
Calm down, Dawn, you're going to do fine.
All you have to do is present your progress in a skill that literally no other Human has done yet to quite possibly one of the most important men in all of Human history.
No pressure.
I twiddled my fingers, anxiously waiting for the Commander to show up. I'd already set up a few objects for the Commander, like some aliens with highlighted organs and such, along with pieces of information from Sana's logs that T'Leth projected from my mind into the Dreamscape.
It wasn't a slideshow, but it was something.
The Commander appeared a moment later, in his uniform. I stood at attention, withholding my salute.
"Good morning, sir," I began. "I'm pleased you took the time out of your day for this."
"Well, it's standard procedure for us to observe our soldier's training," he said. "Since you're unique in a couple ways, something like this is necessary. Besides, I always have time for XCOM's resident Biopath."
I smiled. "Much appreciated, sir. Is there, uh, anything you want me to do before we start?"
He waved a dismissive hand, appraising me carefully. "No. Begin when ready."
"Alright." I took in a deep breath, before letting it out.
You're gonna do great.
"So, starting out, alongside my current telepathic training with Geist and Aegis, I've also been using a lot of data from Sana'Ligna - especially papers she wrote with recordings of speeches. Let me tell you sir, hearing her voice over and over again gets annoying real fast. But...I learned a few things."
"Explain."
"Biopathy is all about scale, Commander. Going from controlling minds to controlling the building blocks of life ain't easy - it makes you look at the world from a whole point of view. For me, no exception. When I got here and started reading all those files, I saw Mortis melt all those cultists completely and I thought 'I'll never be able to do that'. But as I did more work, I began to realize that I didn't have to do just that."
"Do what?"
"Completely melt the target." I explained. "Yes, I theoretically could melt someone down to nothing. But that'd be a waste of time and energy. Focusing on so much could work, yeah. But you don't have to kill all of the body to kill someone. You only have to target one or two parts, like the head when I did it for the first time."
The Commander seemed to agree. "Geist told me something similar. I believe he mentioned you targeting the spine and arteries of a target?"
"That's right, sir. However, the issue with that is that the conditions required are a little too specific." With a flick of a hand, I had T'Leth replay me killing the Dragon, complete with the grand firework show that were her arteries exploding. The small grin on the Commander's face made my day. Once she had died, he turned to me.
"Surgical targeting then. Good."
"That's correct."
"Does that pose a different challenge?"
"Well, that's the fun part." I tapped the right side of my head. "Aegis was kind enough to transfer anatomical charts of Collective species into my head, which saved me tons of time studying. When I see a target, I just sift through my mind to that diagram, imagine that body part, and volia."
"And cells?"
"Well, that's the odd part - you can thank high school biology for that one."
He raised an eyebrow. "Could you elaborate on that?"
"Sure! So, long story short, I was actually horrible in biology and chemistry in high school. Just wasn't my thing, really. But when it comes to cells, I really liked the pictures in the textbooks. Especially this one cell picture. So, imagine my luck that I decided to try out said picture when training with Geist . I just imagined that cell, but multiplied by a lot. And again, it worked!"
Did I seem too enthusiastic? Maybe a little too much. He didn't seem to have an issue with it, though.
"So you rely on visualization, then?"
I nodded enthusiastically. C'mon, keep selling it to him. "It sounds weird, but for telepaths, you'd be surprised with what we visualize to help us."
"I am well aware. My wife is a telepath."
"I apologize-"
"No need. You were simply explaining your strategy."
"Very well," I coughed. "My current battlefield strategy has been focusing on the head, like I did when I performed biopathy for the first time. I tend to leave some of the more, shall we say experimental practices in the Dreamscape, since it relies on too many factors to be workable in real life."
"Understandable. What do you plan on working with next?"
"I'm glad you asked." With a clap of my hands, a diagram of several Collective aliens popped up. "I've been considering working on targeting the brain, and other vulnerable parts of the head. If you sever the head, the snake can't bite you. I know Collective medical technology is advanced, but they sure as hell can't replace someone's brain. I've also thought about extending my biopathy to multiple targets, but that's a long way off. Right now, it's a one-and-done policy."
I sighed. "Kinda wish I had an aura like Mortis. I know it's not feasible, but it'd make things a hell of a lot easier."
The Commander unexpectedly smiled. "That is something that could change. We're working on something that might help with that."
My heart almost skipped a beat as my eyebrows shot up. "Say what now? You mean..."
"It's a work in progress, but you'll be informed when it's ready for use," he said. "Now, what were you going to say next?"
The back-and-forth continued for about several more minutes, until I concluded it, giving him the floor.
The Commander finally finished. "I'm impressed. You've put a lot of work into this, and with your current track record, you've been a valuable asset so far to us. I'm glad you're putting time and effort into improving your capabilities. I'll look over the data again, but...excellent work, Dawn."
"Music to my ears, Commander. I'm glad."
He nodded. "One more thing, Dawn."
"Yes?"
"I have your next mission assignment for you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, but...don't I usually get assignments through email?"
"That would be standard, but you're here, and I see no reason to wait," he said. "It won't happen for several days, but no reason to not prepare."
"I understand, sir. What is it?"
"You, along with Kunio, will be working with the Chronicler on a mission to Antarctica."
Now that peaked my interest. Working with the Chronicler of all people, eh?
He continued. "You'll learn more in the briefing. For now - you've done well. I look forward to what you do next."
"Uh, I think I had a test with Geist-"
"I've talked to him about it. It'll be postponed due to the mission."
I nodded. "Thank you, sir. If I must be honest, one of my worries before I got here was the workload. I was pretty scared of constantly messing up and having issues with motivation, but well…" I spread out my arms. "All I had to do was follow the formula. And act a bit outside of the box. Kind of does get annoying having to listen to Sana's voice over and over."
"I can see that. Is there anything else you wished to discuss?"
"Well...there is one more thing."
"Yes?"
"I remembered our last conversation. About Patricia and what motivates me."
"Yes. What about it?"
"I've been thinking about it, and I've realized something."
He nodded. "And that would be?"
My shoulders slumped. "Pretty much every motivation for myself I could come up could be twisted in some way."
He raised an eyebrow. "Can you elaborate?"
I nodded. "For example, protecting the Earth, XCOM's goal. Impy or some other Ethereal could twist it into 'protecting Earth from the evil Sovereigns like T'Leth'. Want to stop the Collective? Could be twisted into seeing the Collective as some kind of false paradise and make ADVENT look like the 'bad guy'. Want to stop the Ethereals? Could be turned as 'oh, the ones you killed were the bad ones - the real good guys aren't so bad. Want to use my biopathy for good? Brainwash me and plop me in front of Mortis and be like 'Here, this guy knows all about biopathy! Listen to him and you'll become more powerful than you ever imagined!'" I shook my head. "I feel like I'm overthinking it, honestly."
He scratched his chin. "So you're concerned that your wants and drives could all be manipulated negatively?"
"I guess so. I want to be in XCOM. I want to protect Earth. I want to protect humanity. The issue is that I'm young and more easily manipulated, and I have so many reasons flying around in my head that if I got captured, they could twist me. Not that my Restraints would let that happen but…it's been in the back of my head for a while now."
He nodded. "I see. There is something to realize about this, Dawn. That is true for anyone. Anything that personally drives you, that motivates you, it can be turned against you. No matter what, this is a reality that you will never escape. You will never have an incorruptible motive. You will never have the perfect drive or goal. It can always be turned against you. This is normal thought, but it's not an inherent problem."
There was a brief pause. "What is important is realizing this. There are many, many people who are otherwise intelligent who nonetheless can be warped to betray that which they once firmly believed in. Patricia was one of the smartest women I know - and still is. That didn't make her immune to being turned, and in such a way as that she won't come back." He briefly trailed off.
"Patricia ultimately believed that she could not be turned or manipulated, so when it was happening, she didn't see it, or dismissed it. You…" he laced his fingers together. "In a way, you are the opposite. You are almost too worried about what might happen, how you could be turned. While this is admirable, don't become discouraged from this realization. Understanding yourself is important - and you're more aware than most people about the good and the bad within you. Most important - you want to resist becoming something you are not. That is good, but do not let it become your driving factor, because that also becomes a weakness. Do you understand?"
"I do. It's true that I do worry a lot- maybe too much, as you said. I'm gonna talk to Yates about this; I'm sure she can help. I really appreciate what you said, but I just can't stop thinking about it sometimes. I know I have Restraints. I know I have protections. I'm going to work on it. I just thought you should know about it, sir."
He nodded again. "If you do, then you have little to worry about. Be aware - but not obsessive. I have faith you'll do this well - while I've not had a teenager under my command before, you've handled yourself well, and I expect you to continue to do so."
"I...thank you, sir." I blushed slightly. "Again, I appreciate XCOM giving me this chance."
"And we're grateful for you accepting our offer." He glanced to the side. "Unfortunately, as much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I have other business to attend to. Again, excellent work on the a good day, Dawn."
He departed a moment later, leaving me alone in T'Leth's void.
That was enough Dreamscape for the day. I had a mission coming up, and I had to be ready.
But...what did he mean by that aura comment?
Barracks, Praesidium
7/21/17- 7:05 PM
Allegiance.
Such an odd thing, that is.
When I was born, I grew up like many Americans did - I pledged allegiance to the flag, the Stars and Stripes, the eagle, and the dollar. I didn't really consider myself that much of a political person, though if I had to pick, the term 'progressive' would probably be best. I liked my country a lot; I liked the people, I liked the sights, I liked the culture, and I liked the government...well, mostly, anyway.
That was, until ADVENT came along.
I don't think anyone suspected that something like ADVENT would ever happen - though you could say that about almost anything that happens today, considering the situation. When America became part of the iron fist of ADVENT, I had my doubts about it. It seemed...almost too perfect. The seemingly authoritarian nature of it gave me some chills. Although I was pleased at what it did both at home and against the aliens, there was a part of me that was suspicious of it that just never really died. How does such a government just come into existence like that?
It is impossible - well, was impossible. The only logical answer would've been that it was preparing all along, out of the public eye, waiting for the time to come when the clock struck midnight and humanity needed it most. But as my friends and family did on that school day, just before graduation, we all stood up and said ADVENT's pledge, putting fists over our hearts and swearing allegiance to a government we didn't know all that well just yet, but were told that we needed it, that it was our best chance against the aliens. So, we did, as one does, and swore ourselves to it.
And, as I did with America before, I swore loyalty to it.
ADVENT wasn't just America, of course - it became the entire unoccupied world - with a few exceptions, of course. I was no longer a citizen of just one country, but of the world, and a true world government. I cheered on our troops as they scored victory after victory, earning the name of the deadliest military force in mankind's history.
Well, one of them, anyway. Can't forget about XCOM, can we?
When I became a PRIEST and awakened my potential, I saw no reason to doubt ADVENT, and I still don't to this day. I thought ADVENT was going to be the end-all-be-all of humanity, the best we could do. I'll admit, my young mind was being shaped by the propaganda they fed us, but...really, whose wasn't?
Then I joined XCOM, and my allegiance changed once again - this time for the last time.
This time, I did not swear allegiance to the eagle, nor black and red flag of ADVENT. I did not swear myself to a country or an ideology, but rather something more.
XCOM - the brainchild of a now-dead Council, but the personification of an idea. A simple idea, in fact. The concept of protecting humanity, at any cost, from anyone.
Alien or human.
And as I stayed here, I began to feel more connected to XCOM- more trusting. The information and explanations they provided were more than enough for me. They answered the questions I had, filling the holes in ADVENT's story. To fight the monsters of the Ethereal Collective that humanity feared, XCOM created monsters of their own for the Collective to fear- us. Gene modded soldiers, given technology and gifts hundreds of years past what we used only a few years ago. I pledged my loyalty the day I got here, and I see XCOM now as my new family.
Yet...something bothers me.
I know I am young - my mind in particular. The human brain stops developing around age 25; there's no doubt my young and impressionable mind has been melded by ADVENT and XCOM to be loyal, and I am fine with that.
Yet now, as part of XCOM, I am in a way no longer a part of ADVENT, rather an ally of ADVENT. I work with them, and I will help them achieve their means.
Yet I am afraid my choices of allegiance shows a weakness in me - my mind.
In many people's eyes, I'm a child, and children's minds are easily malleable. Looking back, I'm glad ADVENT got their hands on me before the Collective did. I fear if the Collective had found who - no, what I was, and taken me before I got my Restraints, they would have easily taken advantage of me and turned me. I'm not going to delude myself and say I could've resisted the influence of the Imperator or any other Ethereal. The hypothetical picture of me wearing one of those godforsaken masks, calling myself that stupid 'Harbinger' title, and killing ADVENT and XCOM soldiers is one I would scoff at - but at the same time, is chilling.
I am a soldier. I am a tool. I am a weapon. And a weapon only works when the right person is using it.
I may be a fool, I may be young and dumb, but I am not a slave to my darker side, one which could easily be used to turn me.
...Right?
But I know one thing.
That if I was ever taken, my mind warped to serve the Collective, I would take my own life. I could not do that to my family - to have their little girl turned into the villain of her own story, slaved to an Ethereal. I have no doubt that it would be Mortis whose Avatar I would become in this hypothetical situation; but they cannot turn me now, as the Restraints would blow my brains out before they could even go that far.
I judge the Avatars for being weak, giving in to the Ethereals for their own needs. But I realize that it could happen to anyone. Because all you need to turn someone is to tell them what you want them to hear - promise them their dreams, and make the price they pay for it seem negligible. In a way, everyone is a puppet, be it to their own emotions, drive, or someone else's'. Everyone has a string or two you can pull to make them do something. Everyone has something that drives them that you can make good for your own use.
I have no doubt XCOM and ADVENT have done that to some extent, and for my own sake, I'm more than happy with it. I'm just happy they got to me first before the Collective.
But I have no doubt these faceless soldiers, hiding behind masks, will pay eventually. History is not kind to traitors, and they are no exception.
So what is allegiance, to me? Is it me just swearing myself to whatever power presents itself? Is it a means to appeal to my ideas and my wants? Is it my desire to accomplish something?
I shook my head. So many thoughts, and so many ways to express it.
Yet I felt all the paper in the world couldn't fit them.
Definitely telling this shit to Yates next time I see her.
I can't deny I'm proud to be here. Much as I hate to say it, it fulfills many of the power fantasies in my life from all those books I read. I said it before, and I'll say it again - some days I feel like a character ripped straight out of a YA novel.
Thankfully, the people in this reality are vastly better at their jobs.
I cracked my knuckles, closing the tab. That was enough for today. I wouldn't call it venting, more of just putting my thoughts on paper.
There was a lot more to think about right now, though.
Time to get some rest, then.
I had a trip to Antarctica soon.
Situation Room, the Praesidium
7/23/2017 – 12:22 P.M.
Well, this was it- the biggest gig I had yet.
There were a lot more people going on this mission than Malabo, and more psions too - Geist and the Chronicler among them. Kunio was here too, which made me safer: I had my best friend and teacher here, and if anything were to happen to me, I felt safe already knowing they were here to protect me.
Plus, it's always nice to have T'Leth's right-hand-man with you, too.
Let's see - besides Geist and Kunio, there was Rosario, Bryanna from Malabo, Wuhan (named after the city, I guess), Kura, and Rhonda. Rhonda stood out from the rest in that she was a Shoggoth Handler, and as such had the job of training XCOM's tentacle monsters and unleashing them onto the enemy.
But, I had to admit, they were just so darn cute sometimes. Of course that meant, ignoring their ability to squish you to death in untold ways, but they were trained to not attack us, which was nice. Plus, that thrilling sound. I understood why a lot of people here would find it unnerving or downright creepy, but for me, it sounded similar to a little puppy's whine when it was hungry or something.
Kinda reminded me of the Saint Bernard I had when I was a kid.
Fuck, I missed that dog.
The Commander waited until everyone had gotten here before beginning. I'd gotten here early just in case. The Chronicler had spoken to me briefly before the rest got here, asking if I felt alright. His voice had felt...reassuring at best, if not comforting. I could see why he kept his 'old man look'; it made him seem more approachable.
"This operation is going to be a specialized one, Arthur Squad. Short version, you're going to be penetrating the Bastion, and for those who don't know, that's the old EXALT headquarters in Antarctica. It was abandoned by EXALT shortly before the war began, as it was isolated and vulnerable to Collective attack."
Arthur Squad, huh? Wonder why we're called that. You don't think-?
Geist, being the direct person he was, asked the first question. "Is it a high-valued target?"
The Commander shook his head. "Not to our knowledge. Chronicler?"
"EXALT had control of more artifacts than they realized," the Agent said. "There is a significant portion of history even they were unaware of, the relics of which I made a point to preserve. The Bastion held valuable art, sculptures, pieces of history that EXALT wanted preserved – but at the end of the day, they were of little practical use. What they did not know was that not all of the supposed pieces were simply for show."
Oooh. More twists. Where's this going, Chronicler?
"Meaning…?" Bryanna prodded.
"Swords made out of a more refined alien metal than the Collective alloys," the Chronicler began. "But the main relic we are going to recover is a nanite producer that is capable of significantly augmenting ordinary Humans. It has significant healing properties, and is alien in origin."
"In origin?" Kunio noted. "Like…before the Collective?"
A sharp nod. "That is correct, Kunio. You are familiar with the so-called Outsider Incident, but even that was not the first time alien influence has reached our planet. Their relics have existed throughout history in various forms. What are referred to as legends are more real than we believe. As far as this artifact goes – it is better known as the Holy Grail."
What the actual fuck, Chronicler? I knew XCOM would be full of surprises, but this? I raised an eyebrow in a mix of surprise and intrigue, opening my mouth to say something, but closing it. I knew the Chronicler was really old - centuries old at the very least, and he'd seen a lot of human history. Who wasn't to say that other artifacts I'd studied in school were some kind of weapon or tool used by a race far older than mine?
How much of this shit was right in front of my eyes this whole time, waiting to be uncovered? I didn't want to go all tinfoil hat on this subject, but I'd be lying to myself if I thought it wasn't appealing.
Makes you wonder. But why haven't we gotten this earlier, then?
"Sorry," Rhonda coughed, as she patted her Shoggoth. "You mean the Holy Grail?"
"Unless there was another one, yes," the Chronicler said dryly. "No, it does not have magical properties. No, it is not divine. Yes, it did exist, and yes, it was capable of performing miraculous feats at the time. The same can be said for certain other religious artifacts – but that is a topic for another day."
What next, is the Ark of the Covenant real? What are we gonna do, shove it in the Battlemaster's face and melt him Indiana Jones style?
"Oh no," Rosario said. "You can't just say that and change the subject."
"Enough," Geist said sharply. "You will have time to ask your questions upon the conclusion of the operation. We have been given our objective, focus on that. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Overseer!"
While it annoyed me a little bit that Geist shut down Rosario's comment, I understood why. Time was of the essence here, and if the Collective got their hands on that stuff, it'd be nothing but bad news. The Ethereals were crafty bastards - and something told me that Fectorian could probably turn that into some kind of horrifying weapon, given the chance.
"A relevant question then," Kunio said. "Are we sure it's still there? If the Collective is in the Bastion, they would have taken it, yes?"
Thanks for asking for me, Kunio.
"Unknown," the Chronicler said. "There was no indication they would have found it, and they have little interest in our culture, art, or artifacts. Even EXALT knew nothing. While it is possible that the Collective found it, I find it unlikely, else they would have employed it before now. However, we are conducting this operation as much to deny it to the Collective as to use it for us. I do not want to consider what the Collective could do with it if they applied it to the Mutons."
Geist seemed to consider that for a moment. "I am surprised it was left behind if it was so valuable."
The Chronicler's face soured. "An oversight on my part. I was occupied with the annexation of Australia at the time."
Ah.
"While we do not know if the Collective has maintained a garrison at the Bastion, we are making that assumption," the Commander said. "I'd prefer not to draw attention, but if there are aliens there, terminate them. The Chronicler will ensure that you don't set off any of the traps left unsprung. This is also in Antarctica – I would prepare yourself for the cold."
"We are intending to carry this out soon," the Chronicler said. "Tonight, in fact. You will have several hours to prepare. We do not expect this mission to take long, but we do not know what to expect."
"Good luck," the Commander said. "Dismissed."
I followed everyone, being the last one to leave the room. I almost wanted to stay and ask more questions, but I knew that wasn't the time. As much as I wanted to know more, my better half told me to be quiet.
But compared to Malabo, this seemed so different.
Malabo was simple - secure a target, and kill anything in my way. Here, while the broad goal was the same, the actual thing we needed was quite different. It wasn't just a Gateway or some Collective big shot - it was the fucking Holy Grail.
While I wasn't Christian myself, I couldn't help but snort at how my Christian friends would react to hearing that not only was the Holy Grail real, but also of alien origin of all things.
But I had more important things to worry about. I'd probably go take a nap, as I doubted I'd be getting a lot of sleep tonight. No rest for the wicked, I suppose.
Then again, what's one night of sleep to saving the world?
"You alright?"
I turned around, noticing Kunio had stopped walking, looking at me. "You seemed a little worried back there."
I shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I guess. I don't know why, but this one seems more serious than my other missions. This'll be my third one, or my second really."
Even though I hadn't participated in the actual taking of the Hiveship, I felt like I'd earned enough participation points with helping Caelior to give myself enough credit.
Kunio frowned. "Is it because of the Chronicler?"
"I guess - though since Geist is here, kinda makes me afraid of messing up in front of one of my teachers - or someone so important in XCOM like the Chronicler, I guess."
"Hey." He patted me on the shoulder. "You'll do fine. If anything goes wrong, we've got T'Leth's strongest Agents here. And I'll be here, too. They wouldn't have put you on this mission if they didn't feel you were good enough. If anything happens to you, I'll help you out. Okay?"
I looked at him, right in the eyes. I didn't need to be a telepath to tell he meant every single one of those words with absolutely no malice whatsoever. His words meant something, and they really felt like he cared.
"I understand Kunio, but when the Chronicler's been in combat before, things have gotten really serious. Remember that Austrailia fight where fucking Quisilia intervened to try and stop him?" I sighed and rubbed my eyes with a hand. "Who's to say they don't send an Ethereal or one of their puppets to deal with this mission when they find out the Chronicler's leading this operation? Right now, I can do absolute jack shit against either kind of opponent! I can kill trash mobs easily, sure, but an Ethereal? Best I can do is annoy them and hope they don't decide to come after me!"
He pursed his lips. "I get it, Dawn. Unexpected things happen. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how my first mission went, but in XCOM, there aren't any guarantees. We do what we do for a reason - we do dangerous jobs ADVENT can't or won't, and that's just scratching the surface." He shook his head. "Dawn, I can't give you any guarantees, but I can tell you this. If anything happens to you…" He offered a hand, an outstretched palm. "If anything happens to you, I promise you I'm going to do my damned best to make sure you come out alright. Okay?"
I looked at his hand, then his face. Again - he meant every single word. He spoke like a friend, but at the same time like a father-figure type. Sure, he was only in his twenties, but the way he talked around me was similar to that of a 'cool uncle' type, one you could hang out with and tell secrets to.
I gulped. "But what if I don't come back?" I said quietly. "It could happen to any of us."
He looked at the floor for a minute. "If that does happen, then I promise you that me, Fiona, and the rest of XCOM will find whoever does and make them pay with their life. Dearly. And I'll remember you, okay? I'll keep that picture you gave me forever, and I'm not going to let it go. Ever."
I took his hand. "Then that's good enough for me. And...if that ever happens to you, I'll do the same. I promise."
He smiled, nodding. "It's a deal, then"
"It's a deal, Kunio." I let go of his hand. "So, what now?"
"Want to get something to eat? Heard the chef's making a killer stew."
"Sure!"
Let it be known to never go on a mission on an empty stomach.
But as we walked to eat, I couldn't get his words out of my head. Yet they reminded me of why XCOM was so good in the first place. It wasn't the armor, it wasn't the weapons - it was each other.
And that? Well, that wasn't something I was going to forget anytime soon.
Armory, the Praesidium
Ten Hours Later
We all stood in our respective armors, weapons out, standing by for the Chronicler to transport us. He stood in the middle of our group, putting on his helmet.
And here we go. Dawn Conley and the Last Crusade, let's go!
"Everyone ready?"
We all nodded. His left hand glowed blue, and the world around us flashed blue.
And only a blink of an eye later, we'd gone from the Praesidium to Antarctica.
The first thing that hit me was the cold - my god, was it cold. I knew that my augmentations and armor protected me, but I still began to shiver. I gripped my gun and gritted my teeth, trying to keep them from chattering. The fortress in front of me almost immediately caught my eye: it looked like a stereotypical bad-guy fortress, towering over us, lined with various turrets and no noticeable entrances.
Why didn't he teleport us inside of the ex-Illuminati fortress again?
"You guys really went all out," Wuhan said through chattered teeth. "I'm surprised no satellite ever picked this up."
The Chronicler's helmet turned to face the soldier. "And who do you think was the one making the satellites?"
"Fair point," he looked closer at the fortress. "So how are we going to enter? You couldn't have teleported us inside?"
"I could have, but it was entirely possible we would have instantly exploded," the Chronicler said, with some condescension as he stepped forward, snow crunching under his boots. "The fact that we are not before ruins is a good sign. It means the penetration was minimal."
"Or they managed to disarm the traps," Geist suggested.
"Perhaps," the Chronicler conceded. "I do not sense anyone alive. If there is anything here, it will be mechanical. This is good, less of a chance of reinforcements."
"As you were saying," Kunio said. "How are we going to enter?"
"Follow me."
The Chronicler turned on a heel and walked away from the fortress, heading towards a random pile of snow. The howling blizzard around us was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Sure, we'd have snow in Tennessee, enough to give us a few snow days and some sledding opportunities, but this? This was insane!
Nopenguins, though. Always wanted to see some of those guys in their natural environment.
The Chronicler stopped in front of the snow dune, and waved a hand, sweeping back the snow and revealing a hidden door, which he opened with a flick of his wrist.
"Good. They didn't seem to find it."
"You had a secret entrance?" I asked. "Built away from the base?"
"I prefer being prepared," he said as we entered. "While unlikely, I knew there needed to be a way only I could enter – or leave, if it became necessary. As it turns out, it has finally become useful. There will be some walking, but we will end up exactly where we want to be."
The first room we entered was close to the hatch – clearly a bunker of some kind if the Chronicler ever had to lay low. There was a bed, clothes, canned food, and other things I'd expect from someone paranoid enough to make his own escape hatch It gave me fallout shelter vibes. It was a bit weird though, as his ability to teleport made the hatch seem kinda worthless.
But hey, it felt much warmer in here. That was a bonus if nothing else.
"How old is this place?" Rhonda asked as we walked through the creepy hallways. If we weren't on a mission, I'd think it was some kind of high-budget haunted house experience.
"This facility proper?" The Chronicler considered that. "Young, by modern standards. Slightly more than a half century. Previous headquarters rotated between other isolated and controlled places. The Alps, central Africa, the Amazon at one point, usually very elaborate and difficult to detect."
"Sometimes, you have to explain the Amazon," Rosario said. "So there's old EXALT bases all around the world?"
"In various states of decommissioning, but yes…" the Chronicler's voice had an odd note in it. "Along with…other, less savory places."
The Amazon? Alps? Sign me up, that sounds cool!
It felt surreal for this guy to just be talking about so much of this stuff so casually. It felt like every day in XCOM my worldview was either expanded or flipped on its head in some new way. I felt like a kid going to a museum and gawking at all the exhibits. Sure, knowing the Illuminati was real was one thing, but hearing and listening to it for real was another.
What else is there that he's not telling us?
Eh, not for me to judge.
Next he'll be telling me that alien fuckery was involved in King Arthur mythology, or that Thor was real and was actually some kind of alien who could actually control and use lighting, like being a nanokine or something.
We arrived at the end of the hallway, and Geist told us to take up positions. He and Rosario took up positions at the front of the door, and the rest of us aimed our guns at the entrance. I didn't detect any enemies, though.
Weird...it's too quiet.
I leaned over to Kunio. "Not picking up any bad guys," I whispered. "It feels quiet, almost too quiet."
"It'll be alright."
Kunio looked back at her through his helmet. "It'll be alright."
The Chronicler inputted a code onto the keypad. "Is that even still going to work?" Kura asked. "The power is out."
"Local power source, and EMP hardened," the Chronicler said as he worked. "Looks dead, but is an illusion. We never wanted to be in a position where we were trapped and locked in by our own devices. You have to shoot the consoles to actually disable them."
"Clever," Geist nodded. "Though this is just the lock."
"Yes," the Chronicler stepped back as the keypad flashed green. "The mechanics are disabled. Though little issue." He waved his hand, and the door slid open with a slick motion. "Listen close, and watch your step."
Traps?
Unlike the outside, there was damage here. The walls were cracked, with some parts completely destroyed. Dried splatters of yellow blood littered the floor - guess some aliens weren't careful. I stuck close behind Kunio, just in case.
"Looks like they tripped the explosives," the Chronicler said, looking around. "Almost all of them. Clumsy."
"You only had explosives?" Rhonda asked as they carefully walked forward as a group, weapons pointed in all directions.
A snort. "No. The explosives were first. Carbon monoxide followed, and I assume that killed off a fair portion. There were three different toxic dispensers that were established, all poison. Least observable first, ramping up to pure nerve gas. All the more irritating when each room was individually rigged."
He seemed to smile. "I do wonder how many died before they left."
Well that didn't sound a bit sadistic at all.
"Carter, is there any mechanical unit detection?" Geist asked.
Bryanna briefly checked. "Nothing so far."
"Good," he nodded sharply. "Then forward."
We continued out of the hangar, and trekked through some more hallways. Still nothing on my 'mind-dar', as I comically referred to my telepathy as. The only sounds I heard were our footsteps and occasional drops of water, which made the place feel even more creepy, even with the lighting.
"This feels weird." I said aloud. "Feels like a trap - I'm not getting anything with my telepathy."
"Then they must have already left this place." The Chronicler commented. "Perhaps this will be easier than I thought."
From the tone of his voice, he seemed almost disappointed there wasn't anyone here to fight.
We eventually came to a locked bulkhead, which looked like it'd already been broken into. The Chronicler sighed, telekinetically opening the lock and moving through the door, which led us to another hallway that was lined with what looked like a series of locked doors.
There has to be so much stuff in here. It's gotta be worth millions at least, if not billions.
The Chronicler led us to one of the doors, which he opened, and we followed him inside. When I walked in, I gasped, looking around the room. It was a borderline gold mine- literally and then some. Various jewels, rugs, rugs, and swords lind the wall. Even a few crowns were littered all over the place, and some old-looking painting were on display as well.
It's a goddamned treasure room.
"We got lucky." The Chronicler spoke in a relieved tone. They appear to have overlooked everything. Grab the swords."
Wait, I get a sword? Hell yea!
I ran over to the rack on the wall,, sliding my gun onto my back and plucking a random sword off the wall. It felt a bit odd. I'd never held a real sword before, but it felt lighter than it should - and a bit warm, too.
Is there a heat source or something in this? Could be nanomachines.
I swung it around like a pirate or knight, grinning like an idiot at the sweet, sweet woosh! sound of it flying through the air. All I needed was an eyepatch, an annoying yet adorable parrot, and a tricorn hat and I was set for XCOM's yearly Halloween costume party. No one seemed to care about the teenager playing with the alien sword, so I did it again and again, feeling like a kid using pool noodles as weapons.
I heard the Chronicler and Rosario talking in the background, noticing he was holding a goblet. Must've been the Grail. I wanted to look at it, but he bagged it before I got a good luck at it.
Aww. Guess I'll get a chance later.
I continued to inspect the sword, running my armored hand along the blade.
What's this made of? I wonder if it could hurt the Battlemaster. Our Templars are gonna love these babies-
A sword clattered to the ground behind me, catching my attention. Kunio was standing over it, gripping his head.
"What was…"
Wuhan quickly rushed over to him. "Are you ok?"
"I…think so," he said, nodding. "Don't pick up that sword."
The Chronicler walked over, and the weapon flew towards him, hovering in front of him, though he did not touch it. "It is clear they did not look closely. I am surprised this was overlooked."
"What is that?" Kunio asked.
"I mentioned there were other alien artifacts hidden to history," the Chronicler said. "This is one of them. You would likely recognize it as 'Excalibur'."
Oh you gotta be shitting me! "Like King Arthur."
"Yes, the very same," the Chronicler said. "Or…not. The legend was far different I believe than what happened. All I truly know is that a King called Arthur did exist – and was likely a psion who found this sword. It is psi-tech, you see, but alien. The research team will doubtless wish to look at this."
"Yeah, I'd think so," Kunio grunted, shaking his head to clear it of that weird vision. "Is that everything then?"
"I believe so," the Chronicler looked around. "It appears the Collective has abandoned this place entirely. Which means that if XCOM was so inclined, more expeditions could be done to remove everything of worth. If this is all the Collective took, then there are likely other artifacts and historical objects that can be released to ADVENT."
"I don't suppose you have the Ark of the Covenant lying around?" Bryanna asked jokingly.
"Not here," the Chronicler said in a half-serious tone. "I believe I left it in the Vatican."
"Who is Ansaldo?"
I turned around and saw Rosario standing next to one of the paintings. They seemed to be showing various events that were likely during EXALT's history, however the painting Rosario was pointed at was...different from the other ones. It seemed to display a massive stone temple, upon a desolate desert with rolling storm clouds above. It was both creepy and beautiful, giving me an ominous feel while at the same time captivating me.
"Ah," the Chronicler said, looking at the painting with that odd tone in his voice. "Let us say an...acquaintance." There was a pause, and he seemed to come to a decision. "Take it with us as well."
Kunio looked around, as, like me, the paintings had been one of the most interesting parts of this whole mission. "Any of the others, while we're at it?"
"If you can carry them," the Chronicler said. "But let us be quick about it."
I handed the Chronicler the sword, and looked around for a painting to catch my eye. I finally settled on one that featured…
"Chronicler," I said, pointing to the painting. "Is that Saudia Vyandar on that one?"
He nodded. "That was commissioned when she was elevated as Director of EXALT."
I ran over to the painting, careful taking it down from the wall. "Calling it!"
"Everyone, get close to me. I'm going to teleport us out of here."
That was fast. What, under ten minutes?
We all stood by him, and with another blue flash, we were back in the Praesidium.
"Excellent work, everyone. This technology will greatly help us in the fight against the Collective. You're all dismissed."
I set the painting down, leaning it on the wall so the Chronicler could come back for it. Everyone left to remove their armor, while the Chronicler departed to do...something. I shrugged, got out of my armor, and went to a changing room to get out of my undersuit, which I replaced with my fatigues that I'd left in my locker.
That had to be the quickest mission ever. Was that a record or something? Had to be.
I wasn't disappointed, or even mad. If anything, I felt stupid for worrying about the mission so much. Here I was thinking it was going to be some kind of challenge or something.
I walked out of the changing room, putting my undersuit back in my locker.
"Well, that was a mission, huh?" Kunio was behind me, arms crossed. "Never thought I'd ever go to Antarctica, but it was something."
"I guess." I sighed. "Hey, at least we learned something, right?"
"Yep. Still, good job...I guess."
He smiled. "You too. Hey, at least you didn't get your brain scrambled by a magic sword."
I raised an eyebrow. "You feel alright, yeah? Shouldn't you go to the doctor or something?"
"Chronicler said I'll be fine, but I'll go to the doc and see if there's anything amiss." he had an amused gleam in his eye. "Noticed you were having some fun with that sword of yours."
I meekly laughed. "You saw that?"
"Don't worry, it looked like you were having fun."
"Sometimes you gotta make your own fun. Say, are you free this Thursday?"
"No. Why?"
"Oh, uh just wanted to know if you were free to do some swimming. But thanks anyway/"
He nodded. "Sorry Dawn, but duty calls. I'll try to do that another time. See you around."
"See you around."
As he walked away, I pulled out my phone, texting Caelior.
You free Thursday? I have an idea...
I walked back to the barracks and climbed back into bed, much to the surprise of my comrades.
"Dawn! You're back already?"
"Hey Vih. Yep, mission's over!"
She swore in Swedish. "You've been gone for what? Twenty minutes!"
I shrugged. "What can I say? No enemies; we just walked in and grabbed some things."
"What exactly did you grab?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
She chuckled. "Okay, you win this one, little gryning."
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my pajamas, heading to the showers. I always took a shower after every mission, as a kind of relief from the stress. And hey - I still felt a little cold. I found a stall, closed the door, stripped, and stepped in. I closed my eyes and laid against the wall as the warm water hit my body, steam beginning to fill the room.
Ah, that feels good.
It was peaceful showering in the evening- no morning rush of women in various states of dress, making tons of noise as they woke up and got ready for the day. Hey, it beat showering in the PRIESTs, where Mary would almost always wake up before me, beating my lazy ass to the shower and having to wait to use it.
It felt great, just standing there and letting the water do the work while not having to think about anything else.
The war.
My skills.
Peace. That'd be my ultimate reward when the Collective fell. A day when humanity wouldn't have to worry about the Ethereals or anything else they'd bring to bear.
Of course, until the next bad guy came along.
But that would have to wait.
One evil at a time, thank you very much.
Probably should ask Caelior with some help with that Ethereal Script.
A/N: I have art commissioned of Caelior's unmasking by Zephyrus-Genesis on Deviantart. Amazing work, check it out here: zephyrus-genesis/art/COMMISSION-Siblings-by-Choice-860457159
To be continued in:
Shared Minds Think Alike