All good things must come to an end, the human thought as the subway doors closed behind him.
After getting a night's sleep (for once!) he and Sally had opted to leave the sanctuary of their motel room for the tension of the crowded Deepsea Metro subway cars, surrounded on all sides by all sorts of so-called 'denizens of the deep.' It was a carefully calculated decision, borne out of a refreshed and revitalized mind.
Simply incredible what fourteen hours of uninterrupted sleep and a hot shower could do for someone.
Actually being able to sleep without fear of his soul being consumed was downright magical, and had dispelled much of his mental fog and physical exhaustion. Sally too, it seemed, appeared to be in much better spirits.
But, as with all things, good spirits didn't get to stick around for long. After he'd crammed himself back into the ERA suit, they'd both decided to get back on the subway as soon as possible before the fatigue of surviving the Metro bore down on them again. It was a calculated risk, sure - what with that militia girl skulking about - but he'd prefer to be on the move instead of hunkering down in a motel room somewhere.
Of course, it didn't help that the motel had practically been swarming with people when they had left. Trying to navigate that mosh pit had been brutal. But that wasn't what was on his mind.
Rather, that militia girl had to have gotten down here somehow, which meant that there was an entrance somewhere. And what was an entrance to her was an exit to them. Their best bet of finding this alternative entry point was right here on this train, surrounded by the people of the Deep.
They were close to society, and thus had to be close to the surface. The danger was no longer physical, just societal. And even then, he was getting to the point where he didn't particularly care. After all, with familiarity came a lessening of fears. And considering how many autographs and photos he had to endure, it was no wonder he had grown so numb.
The denizens of the deep somehow knew about humanity, and as such, had made him an instant celebrity, much to his chagrin. It certainly did explain the motel mosh pit.
For the umpteenth time, he forced out a cheery smile as he posed with a flat-fished man, his dead, fishy eyes staring at the camera Sally held. Judging by her wide grin, she was enjoying his suffering.
He had no idea as to why this was happening to him, but at least they weren't calling any government officials.
Sally handed the fish's phone back to him, her broad smile almost illuminating the otherwise grungy car interior. The fish person, grunting his thanks in an unintelligible, bubbly grumble. At this point, they were simply humoring anyone who asked, just to keep them happy. The attention was bad, but equally, positive attention was better than negative, and once again, he didn't want anyone to call the cops.
But at the end of the day, it was a distraction, pure and simple, as they had some business to attend to.
"Mr. Conductor, sir?" Sally asked.
They had managed to slip away from the crowds, and had cornered the diminutive blue sea cucumber in the backmost car. Thankfully, it lay mostly abandoned, giving them a mote of privacy. Were he forced to take any more pictures, necks (or whatever neck equivalent the denizens possessed) would have been strangled.
"Yes?" was the conductor's tired response. No doubt he was growing weary of having to deal with all the drama surrounding the recent events. Not that the human could blame the poor slug; he had definitely held jobs where he had to deal with room temperature IQ individuals. But now, he was on the other end of this. He was the pest.
Were it not for the extraneous circumstances, he would have almost felt guilty.
"Look, we're trying to get to the surface. Is there anywhere you could drop us off at?" He was rested, yes, but he really wanted to feel natural sunlight on his skin. He wasn't meant to be in the dark, and the glimmering floodlight installations around the Metro didn't exactly pass for the real deal.
The conductor fell silent for a long moment, before saying, "Unfortunately, there is no easy way to the surface. We cannot help you."
"Then… how did the other girl get down here?" Sally piped up, eyes shining slightly. For once, it was nice to see that not used against him.
Against a stoic non-vertebrate, it was of no use.
"Like you did, by entering through a station."
"Can we… go to that station?" She asked, to which she received an almost immediate rejection.
"Employee privacy dictates that I cannot give out that information."
Bastard.
"So there's nothing you can do to help?" His tone carried a desperate edge.
"Unfortunately, I am unable to help you reach the Promised Land. Such a facet belonged to Kamabo, and they have been dissolved as a corporate entity for three years."
…What?
Promised… Land…?
Forget it. Promised Land this, Prodigal Son that, his life was starting to sound like a Bible story.
"I see then, thank you." he said stiffly, turning away, "Have a good day."
He briskly turned around, walking away. Sally followed behind him, a bit confused.
"Is this… really it?"
"Like hell it is," he growled, "We'll find another way, we didn't come this far to just give up here."
…Which, speaking of. He'd been meaning to ask about that, actually.
He stopped in his tracks, having just gotten into the next car.
"Y'know, how exactly did you get down here?" He leaned up against the car wall, pointing a finger at her, "Maybe that'll help?"
"It was the statue, but I don't think we'll be making it out that way…" Sally shivered, "There were so many gaps I had to jump. It really was one way."
There goes that option…
"Maybe, we're looking at this the wrong way?" was his lukewarm reply, "Perhaps we should head back to the city, or maybe try checking other stations?"
To that, Sally adamantly shook her head, "No! That's how I ended up down in that hell in the first place!"
Tensions were flaring, frustration setting in. They had come so far, were so close, yet here they were, roadblocked by a seemingly non-issue!
In a way then, when someone spoke up, voice breaking the constant din of the subway, it diffused them.
"Wise words indeed, young squire. One often finds the devil in places they shouldn't look."
Both of them jumped at the sudden intrusion. The speaker was sat up against the back wall of the car; an isopodic man in a business suit and sunglasses. Multiple pairs of jointed arms hung out from his torso, and his back seemingly in a permanent hunchback. Jointed whiskers pointed out from his face, completing his beady visage.
…
Already, he could feel his nerves alight. He knew a fed when he saw one. Especially considering that suit he was wearing. By cod, it was practically immaculate, and somehow worked perfectly despite him being an anthropomorphic isopod crab!
…Wait, cod?
God.
There he was. god.
By god, what a suit! A suit a federal agent would wear, sure, but a nice suit regardless. Minor crisis aside, this was liable to get ugly.
"I couldn't help but overhear of your troubles with CQ Cumber," the isopod continued, taking their silence as an indicator to continue, "Such a sad scenario; so many seek the surface, yet are never able to make it. This line is its own little world, one we all ride."
He looked down to Sally, who gave him an equally puzzled glance. He looked back to him, then to her, then back to him.
"It's a nice platitude, I'll admit, but just who are you?" He had to refrain from asking for identification or a badge number; old habits die hard, it appears. Already, he was squaring up the isopod, gauging his options. The issue with assaulting men of the law was the fact that they generally sent more folks after you
"Just a passenger on the trip of life, you could say, no one important. They call me Iso Padre."
Iso… Padre?
These punny names were going to be the death of him.
"It's good to meet you, sir!" Sally chirped, "I'm Sally!"
"Oh ho ho!" he laughed, a strange chittery sound, "I'm aware of who you two are. You're the talk of the city! Though, mostly you, human."
For whatever reason, he felt a small chill go down his spine.
"I just had to see you two for myself! A worthy opportunity to forge new memories of my own."
Iso reached down into his briefcase, a nice, pseudo-leather piece just bursting with little mementos of some kind. He pulled out one, holding it up so he could see. Specifically, it was a…
…a little eraser-like figurine of him.
ERA suit, teal eyes, and all, stylized like a short, stout cartoon.
What the fuck?
"Lovely, isn't it?"
"W-where did you get that?"
Another hand reached into his briefcase, pulling out another little figure, one of Sally this time.
"I believe this one belongs to you, young warrior."
"Oh, sweet!" Sally took the little eraser-thing without question, staring at it from all angles.
The isopod smiled (he thought), reciting a little poem.
"A noble daughter, driven by father's love.
The fruit of her efforts, by her side.
But, is her discovery truly a dove?"
…How did he know about Sally's dilemma? Once again, his suspicions raised their hackles.
"Certainly, it is not as elegant as hers, but it works." He sighed at the thought, "Ah, but some things were never meant to last. We must learn to adapt to new times."
The particular way 'Iso Padre' looked at him while saying his piece was making him uncomfortable. Somehow, he had the distinct feeling that this isopod knew more than he was letting on, or alternatively, was staring right through his soul. Perhaps both? Were those eyes of his glowing behind those sunglasses? Had he too been touched by the Metro?
Maybe he was a fed after all.
Sally was picking up on his unease, her tone growing a bit tense, "That's… a really cool thought, but… how do you know about my dad?"
"Ah, right, forgive me," The isopod adjusted his sunglasses, "I have friends up on the surface, and… one of them did ask me to keep an eye out for you. But, you two must still be going through a lot, from what I've heard. Are you alright?"
"...Relatively speaking," was his flat reply, "...What exactly do you know about that? Who are you working for?"
Iso Padre's sunglasses almost gleamed.
"I'm simply a passenger on the journey we call life, Stranger. I enjoy a good story, like any other, and both of you have forged quite the tale, one that's reverberated across the ocean."
A chitinous finger pointed down to Sally, "Yours, we believed to be a tragedy, and yet, you've turned it into a triumphant tale. You escaped from the bowels of the darkest trench, your light unextinguished."
The finger shifted to him.
"And yours? Well, I've kept many of the details to myself. Destroying an icon of the Great Horde is quite the entertaining story, I must admit - the first time in history anyone has done so." the isopod said, chuckling.
"Downing a Mothership is no easy feat, Stranger, and I must say I'm quite impressed. Not only by that, but also by that sordid affair of yours down in one of the Domes. You're quite the piece of work, and I felt it was for the best that your deeds stayed on the down low, for a while."
…Shit, how did he know about that? Sally was already staring at him again; he could almost hear the questions popping behind her eyes.
"A-and you know about that, how?"
"Well, that one lass who descended from the surface was quite talkative about your crimes, though, I believe her to be an unreliable source of information. As for your little war with the Horde, though - a personal friend of mine enlightened me with that knowledge, as well as young Sally's plight. I must say, you really gave her and her friends quite the fright."
Every time this guy opened his mouth(?), it only complicated things.
"Alright then, so, what do you want with us?"
"Is it a crime to meet intriguing individuals? Like I've said, you two are the talk of the town, so to speak. That other gal has certainly been stoking that fire as well. This is almost as exciting as when Kamabo finally went under."
He was done with trying to understand this situation, and whatever Kamabo had devolved into during his twelve millennium ice nap. He just wanted to leave this non-euclidian hell and see the sun again.
"Fair enough," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Forgoing all manners and politeness, he cut to the point, "Look, Sally and I are just looking for a way up to the surface at this point. Can you help us?"
Rather than spit in his face, the isopod let out another quiet, chittery laugh.
"Perhaps. There are ways, though I am unsure of them myself. I've heard rumors of a station up to the Promised Land, though CQ Cumber has always been adamant that it doesn't exist. If you wish for my advice, follow the path of the Squire."
He was getting real tired of this. Thankfully, Sally had more patience than he did.
"The path of the Squire?" she asked, "What do you mean?"
"Once, there was someone just like you, young one. She'd wandered the Metro like myself, as a test subject for Kamabo - ten thousand and eight, the machines there had called her. She's a good friend of mine, and was the first to escape the Kamabo testing facilities. I still hear from her from time to time, in fact."
The isopod looked out the window, almost wistfully.
"I don't know how she did it, and I doubt she will ever tell me, but the evidence of her actions is still there at the Metro's central station. I have no desire to leave, so I cannot aid you, but I can almost guarantee you'll have better luck searching for the exit there."
"I… that works, thank you." the human nodded, "So, uh… did you want an autograph, or a picture?"
"Nothing of that sort, but thank you."
He turned to leave, intent on going to find CQ Cumber again, but Iso Padre spoke up.
"Before you go, did you want to hear about that mem cake of yours?"
"My… what?"
"That little figure I gave you." the isopod intoned, gesturing with one of his arms to the small figure in his hands, "Compressed memories, they are. It seems you two have stirred up enough emotion for one to manifest."
"Uh, neat?" he was done with this insanity, "Let's hear it."
"A stranger in time, washed up on the shore.
Violence breeds violence, no end in sight.
Do you really wish to wage a war?"
It had been a long time since Three had seen Sheldon this jittery.
Sheldon, as she had learned over the past several years, was like a tightly wound spring. He was incredibly controlled and determined, two traits that she suspected ran in his family, amongst an enigmatic, tangled genetic code he called his engineer genes. While they made him an incredible inventor, conversely, they also could be the tools of his undoing.
To that end, she finally understood exactly why she was needed to be Sheldon's 'assistant'. It was less about helping him, and more along the lines of restraining him.
Because as it turned out, Sheldon had a tendency of going a bit… well, workaholic was an understatement.
While Three had been hard at work handling the Metro situation with Four, Sheldon had been laboring at his little pet project with the human's weapon. And, judging by the bags under his eyes, the sores covering his hands, and the violently overturned coffee machine, the poor horseshoe crab hadn't slept or rested since she had left. Or, more likely, since he had transferred his research to this remote location after he accidentally blew up one of his testing ground walls back at the city.
So many questions…
His monolithic drive had ravaged him, yes, but on the other hand, his results had borne fruit, and thank Cod for that, because things were only growing worse. Much, much worse, judging by the latest text pings on her spare CQ-88.
She and Marie had been called to a small, abandoned farmstead about an hour out of Inkopolis. An old home in Sheldon's family, apparently; it was settled in one of the few spots of hospitable land away from the coasts. At first, she had been flummoxed at this discovery; why would a family with the engineering gene have a farm out in the middle of nowhere?
But then, she remembered the collateral damage they had already wrought back at the city. Better to work on this project away from prying eyes. And better this farm be wrecked than any structure in the densely packed city. She had already spied a burnt shed on the property as they had driven in, still smoking from whatever he had done.
Better the little shed than his storefront.
"Avanna, Marie, thank you for coming!" the diminutive crab almost shouted at their arrival, before dialing his voice down, "Sorry, my ears are still alight with ringing! It's been pretty loud here the past few days!"
The three of them were huddled in a large barn at the edge of the property, one that was shabby, tearing at the seams and in need of a good lick of paint. Despite that, the large interior was positively modern, boasting an impressive array of tools, materials, and workspaces; an inventor's dream, all powered by a singular zapfish in a tank. He even had his hovertruck in its own little bay, ready for deployment at a moment's notice. Thankfully, many of the machines had fallen silent, letting the dusky silence of the outside's twilight reign supreme. Somehow, the current, quiet nature of the place felt wrong. Only the sounds of industry truly belonged.
Aside from that, it was a beautiful evening.
However, such scenery would have to wait. After all, they had important business to discuss.
Shaking slightly from an unhealthy dose of caffeine, Sheldon led them to the back of the workshop, where a simple, wooden table had been set up. A clean white cloth was spread over the table, and on top of it rested a long, thin, ugly shooter.
At first glance, it bore a striking resemblance to the human's old weapon, albeit without any of its efficiency or sleekness. The more Three looked at it, however, the more she noticed - cannibalized parts from the human's weapon made up most of the lower half, while the upper half was a mess of exposed wires, circuitry, and metal parts held together with duct tape and positive thinking.
What Sheldon couldn't harvest from the original weapon, he took from Turf War weaponry instead; Three could very clearly see a Splatterscope's, well, scope attached to the top of the shooter, amongst other parts.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had done.
"I present the Neo Electromagnetic Round Flinger!" Sheldon proclaimed proudly, "The first weapon type of its kind!" With difficulty, he grabbed the weapon, struggling slightly with its weight, "Marie, would you do the honors?"
"Gladly," She took the rifle, but almost dropped it from the surprising amount of weight, "Geez, what's in this thing?"
"A lot of copper and other electronics," Sheldon admitted, "I… may have had to salvage most of the original specimen to build that prototype. I don't know how half of the materials in it were fabricated, or all the proper physics behind it. For now, I'm just happy it works."
For a moment, Three swore that he was drooling. The human's gun had been a whole new level of high tech, and she was betting that he would gladly kill to know how it had all been constructed.
Now used to the weight, Marie hefted the rifle to her shoulder, "By that, you mean? And is this thing even safe?" She peered down the scope, checking the sights. Judging by her grunt of satisfaction, they were fine.
Three subtly stepped away from the pair ("The coils are similar to copper, but altered to some extent. I tried to use regular copper for the coils, but they just melt when hooked up to the original weapon! And don't get me started on the circuitry!") and out into the rapidly approaching night. She had no desire to hear anymore of Sheldon's rants; by now, she already knew all of the weapon's technicalities inside and out, and she didn't want to be around for another one of his rants about the batteries.
Batteries, man.
Aside from that, she also had far more important things to take care of. While Three would have preferred to stay in Inkopolis until Four was back from the Metro, she did have to make the trip to Sheldon's remote workshop to see the fruits of his experimentations. She needed some kind of reassurance right now.
Thinking about what she had learned this morning had her on edge, in a way she hadn't been in a long while. She had awoken to a slew of messages on one of her backup CQ-88s, all from Four. All of them, in frantic and explicit detail, explaining about how the human from the Dome was down on the Subway, amongst other things she hadn't given much thought.
To say she had a nervous episode would be an understatement. She just needed to get away from the city for the day. Cowardly, yes, but she couldn't help it. She could still hear the crunch of her leg.
But, that was behind her, and now, more than ever, they needed a way to actually fight back. And with any luck, Sheldon had cooked up an answer. Or, one that didn't need extensive setup and support, at least.
Sheldon and Marie emerged from the barn, having gotten to speaking of more inane charger topics such as projectile drop and stability. Sheldon, for whatever reason, was carrying a weighty looking backpack, a slick carrier that seemed to suck in the light from around them. Chargers weren't her domain. And yet, she was quite eager to see the fireworks, so to speak.
"So, you ready to show us what we have now?" Despite her attempts at staying neutral, she couldn't keep a note of worried excitement out of her voice.
"Of course! Avanna, Marie, follow me please!"
He led them behind the barn, where a small firing range had been set up. Range, in this case, referring to a small field of overgrown grass littered by several blow up targets, all illuminated by carefully spaced lamps. Sheldon led them into one corner, where a very makeshift target had been set up, a steel plate roughly thirty meters away from them. Several patches of grass had been burned where they currently stood.
"Now then, the NERF gun is the progenitor of an entirely new type of weaponry I've managed to reverse engineer; Electric weapons, I call them!"
Sheldon awkwardly set his heavy backpack on the ground, and with a bit of finesse, pulled out several snaky cables to attach to the gun, which he did with a nervous chuckle, "As the name implies, it uses plenty of electricity to operate!"
Sneaking forward, Three unzipped the backpack to reveal an array of tightly packed, high-tech batteries. Inkling batteries, though. Odd, didn't they still have the original one?
Marie scoffed, "That's a bit much, don't you think? I might just be better off with my own weapons if I have to lug all that weight around."
Sheldon shrugged, still jittery.
"I know it's undesirable, but the Neo Electromagnet Round Flinger gun is giving us a fighting chance against the humans. Our own weapons are otherwise useless. It's NERF or nothing!"
He hooked up the gun to the backpack, and with an unstable electric hum, its salvaged diagnostics screen sprung to life. It displayed several very obvious warnings and errors across its cracked visage.
"Sheldon, is… that thing safe?" Three asked, slightly tepid. She could still remember each destructive blast of the weapon back at the Dome, how it was tearing itself apart near the end. In her mind's eye, she could see a dripping rivulet of molten metal sloughing out from the gun's barrel, falling to the floor and cooling on the ground. And that was the completed, untarnished human product, not this jerry-rigged piece of largely unknown tech.
"More or less," he admitted, "There are still a few kinks, but it should be relatively stable. Switching to a new battery setup and capping the maximum energy input did wonders to stabilize the firing mechanisms. It won't hit as hard as the genuine product, but it will still be enough."
"But, why switch to a new battery setup?" Three asked, "Why not use the original one?"
Sheldon looked away for a moment, "About that… I'm sure you saw the shed."
Oh…
"It was downright ludicrous how much energy that battery could store," Sheldon explained, "And I may have accidentally overcharged it… which, considering how unstable they are…"
"Yeah…" Three nodded, "I gotcha."
Marie looked quite uncomfortable holding the weapon now.
"So… you added more batteries for more 'electricity capacity' then?" Marie tentatively asked, saying the phrase as if it were a foreign concept, "Once I'm out of energy, how do I refill it?"
"You cannot," Sheldon relied, "Once you're out of energy, you're out."
Marie laughed nervously, "But, I won't for a while, right? Energy is much easier to store than ink, right?"
"Uh… no. You'll have only three shots," Sheldon, to his credit, looked sheepish.
"T-three shots?" Marie almost exclaimed, "Really leaning to just using my regular weapons…"
Why was Three not surprised? With how maddening human technology was turning out to be, it made a twisted bit of sense that even their batteries seemed to be better. Granted, even if they had the horrible propensity to explode from time to time.
And yet, if they could salvage this piece for their own, what was stopping them from appropriating more?
"Well, don't give up hope yet," Sheldon chimed, "Go on, give her a test run. Would you do the honors, Marie?"
Marie sighed, but nodded.
"Gladly."
She moved into a firing position, struggling to keep the charger steady due to its heavy weight. Yet, she achieved a balance, carefully lining up the shot at the center of the plate. She pulled the trigger, and unfortunately wasn't expecting the fierce kick of the rifle against her shoulder. The recoil knocked her off balance, gun leaping from her grip.
'Crack!'
The weapon fell on the ground and let loose another projectile.
'Crack!'
The first shot whizzed above the steel plate, just nicking the top of the it. Despite that, the shot tore the plate off of its post, as well as shearing off a substantial amount of paint and rust that'd caked itself onto the poor plate. The second shot, on the other hand, hit one of the surrounding lamp's bases, causing it to collapse to the ground. Thankfully, its wild sparking didn't catch anything on fire.
Three shot back from the noise, heart pounding out of her chest. For a moment, she was reminded of the Dome, of the human's foot stomping her leg's cartilage to paste, of the cloud of mortality that enveloped everyone when the respawner was destroyed. Even now, while she no longer needs her crutches, it still hurt to walk.
And she was back again.
After a brief moment of catching her breath, she walked to the target, picking up the steel plate. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the solid inch of metal the wayward slug had torn off, and she couldn't help but envision that cod damned mask of the humans' suffering the same violent fate.
Sheldon and Marie looked just as astonished, the jitters replaced by an almost reverent look at what they'd done. If they could get this 'NERF gun' of theirs further developed…
While Ammoses Shellendrf, Sheldon's grandfather, had made every Inkling equal, his grandson may yet truly make Man and Inkling equal.
The isopod's advice, as it turned out, was quite applicable, even if it led to a few uncomfortable discoveries.
The abandoned central station, as it turned out, lived up to its name. It was an old and grimy subway platform, with the detritus of some large, unknowable machine scattered across the center of the area and a large hole busted through its underground skylight ceiling (why was there a skylight?).
There was a door built into the wall at the edge of the platform. Or, what was left of one, at least. The door was melted through, the same vile ink from the Lower Metro caked on the edges. Strangely, it was as if the missing sections had just vanished; he couldn't find any residual traces, or heat warping.
It seemed they weren't the only ones to have escaped…
Of course, what they found beyond the door was something he had never expected to see. Ordinarily, they would have avoided such a door like the plague, but considering it was their only option, they opted to move forward with caution.
Ultimately, it was the right gamble to make.
Beyond those cracks in the abandoned station laid vast spaces of emptiness, ones that even put the old human shelters to shame. The central station, the one he had assumed to have surrounded by miles of rock, was instead suspended in the void, tunnels snaking off into the darkness. He physically couldn't process the space; his eyes kept shying away from the yawning space, preferring the comfortable view of his own feet. Sally's own eyes were firmly shut, and she was relying on him to lead her.
In truth, he wasn't too far behind. Currently, they were walking over a walkway strung up over an abyss. He could technically see the bottom; what looked like an artificial, plastic forest, but they had to be a good half mile up, with a darkened ceiling above that seemed to stretch into infinity. For all he knew, the ocean itself hung above their heads.
It felt like an extension of the spatial anomalies they had encountered far below, yet… stable, somehow. It terrified him, yes, but he was growing numb to the horror of these liminal spaces.
Thankfully, they eventually reached the far, far end of one of these spaces, finding a door built into the monolithic wall. Beyond it was a messy room, filled with junk. Judging by the old equipment he could see, gurneys, IV drips, and radiological displays, had been some kind of clinic, perhaps?
"Alright, you can look now, we're out of there."
Sally opened her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. While she did so, he moved further into the room, his hand trailing along one of the gurneys. He bent down near the center of the room, picking up a radiograph image from the floor. Another item caught his attention, an IV bag filled to the brim with a glowing, green ink.
"What do we have here…?"
Sally remained rooted by the door, afraid to disturb the scene.
"You good Sally?"
"Uh… yeah, just… a bit creeped out, is all. Reminds me of a movie I saw."
He pondered for a moment, thinking. His gaze wandered back to one of the radiological images, which he held up to the light. Why not have a little fun?
"Well, compared to what was down there, there shouldn't be anything to fear. Come here, let me show you something."
He got up to his feet, image in one hand, IV bag in the other. He made his way to one of the radiological displays. Sally followed behind him, tepidly.
"Want to see something neat?"
With a bit of poking, he was able to coax the display screen to life, and affixed the print to it. Sally craned her neck behind him, curious.
"Is that an X-ray?"
"Correct, now let's see what this one is…"
It took a moment for him to recognize the image. It looked to be an X-ray of a torso, with semi-defined bones, rather than the sharp outlines of bone he was used to. Probably didn't have as dense of a skeleton system, if that shifting behavior of theirs was of any indication. A skeletal structure for them would need to be flexible.
There was also the matter of nearly every organ and vein being vaguely visible, as if dyed by pale moonlight. That, he had to believe, was far from natural. And there went his fleeting sense of whimsy.
The IV bag he held, full of its vile payload, was only giving him one explanation.
…Which, he realized, was a bad thing to voice to Sally, as she was looking at the radiological image with incredible unease. Not everyone shared his fascination with this type of thing, it appeared.
"Isn't the X-ray not supposed to show organs?" was her whispered question.
"Ordinarily, no," he whispered back, "Usually just bone and other dense matter."
Sally looked down at the IV bag in his hand, eyes widening slightly at it. He could feel the slimy, viscous substance through the bag. It was staring at him.
"Yeah, let's just…" he threw the bag to the ground, stepping away from the display, "Get out of here."
He didn't know what had happened here, and something told him he didn't want to know. One last bit of horror for the road, he supposed.
One more mystery to haunt his dreams.
Three sat in the passenger seat of Marie's car, idly scrolling through message history with Four. With Sheldon's weapon demonstration over and done with, they had packed up the prototype up into the backseat, and were making their way back to the city. Ordinarily, they would have stayed the night, but considering their current circumstances, they needed to get back to the city as soon as possible.
And with the weapon lying on the backseat, they would be ready.
For the first time in a while, she was feeling better about her odds. And to be frank, even some of Four's more recent news was hilarious, albeit in an undeniably twisted fashion.
.
four-chan - Today at 4:13am
"LMAO! the conductor looks so goofy he's so blue and small gonna try and get pics of the human when he's not looking :))"
four-chan - Today at 4:32am
"i swear to cod im going to call CQ a slur very loudly on this train if he ever takes the humans side on anything ever again"
.
Poor Four.
As terrifying as the idea of CQ working with the human was, Three found it much more concerning that the general underground seemed to know about humanity - going so far as to (according to Four's messages from an hour later) make him a little celebrity down there.
She wasn't entirely sure how the Denizens knew what humans were, let alone what they even looked like, but she had some theories. Remnants of Tartar's reign and/or conditioning was her most educated guess so far.
While his presence around regular civilians was undeniably a very dangerous situation, the mental image of him being bogged down for hours by curious denizens wanting pictures and autographs was an image that made her day. The best form of revenge for a broken leg? Mild inconvenience. Works every time.
She had managed to downsize the CQ-88's holographic interface to a tiny little screen directly above the device itself, so as not to interfere with Marie's driving. In truth, she was simply scrolling through the Agent's little chatroom for the sake of it; Four hadn't responded for about half an hour now, her last message saying she was eating her supper at an incredibly good, yet incredibly hidden food stall within one of the Metro's stations.
Ordinarily, she would have chastised Four for it, but right now, they all needed a bit of levity. After everything they've been through over the past week and a half, they desperately needed something good in their lives again.
She scrolled up further. In retrospect, it was a little bit funny that the further she scrolled up, the more frantic Four's messages became. Horrible, yes, but she was in need of levity.
When Marie caught her trying not to laugh, she was staring at Four's hastily key smashed misfortune, a cautionary tale of 'why you shouldn't walk and text at the same time.'
.
four-chan - Today at 2:13pm
"ima go find me some lunch i was on the trajnjgjasn
almost walked itno ASPFIjok WALL"
Three (You) - Today at 2:13pm
"What the shell
Are u ok?"
four-chan - Today at 2:13pm
"CO D HFBH
WWALKED INTO A LAMP POLE THEN A LIONFISH THEN A ACTUAL **WALL**
WHYYYY…. MEE :(( "
.
"And what are you smirking at?"
Marie had one eye on the road, and the other on her. A small smile was spread across her normally stoic face, an unusual zest in her tone.
"C'mon, share."
"It's nothing much, just…" Three stifled a giggle, "Four's just been texting me about some crazy stuff going on down there. Lotta stuff, if all her key mashing is any indication."
"Oh, boy." Marie smugly intoned. "What's going on?"
"Apparently," she began, "the human's being mobbed by most of the Denizens, or his 'adoring fans' as Four put it. He's a little local celebrity down there."
Marie's smile disappeared, but despite that, a small laugh escaped her, "That's… how is he taking it?"
"Nothing bad, according to Four. No news is good news, I'm guessing."
"And how's Four doing?"
Three put down her device for a moment, "Fine, from what I'm seeing. Aside from the first scare, she's just a bit bored. And uncomfortable, too. She wasn't ready for the Denizens, let me tell you."
Marie snickered, "That sounds like Four. The stories I've heard from that girl."
The two lapsed into another comfortable silence. It was… nice, honestly.
Three pulled her CQ-88 back up, and was back in the chatroom. Curiously, a new message had popped up. Another from Four, most likely. Three's money was on it being a selfie of the little restaurant she had stopped at.
Though, it wasn't that. Rather…
.
windows eight - Today at 7:53pm
"Three
He's left the Metro"
.
Her eyes widened, their constant teal glow flaring to an uncomfortable brightness.
…
The first messages from her in over Three years. She knew Eight's account still lurked on their server, but for her to still be active…?
Oh squit.
Marie glanced at her through the mirror, concern written on her face.
"Marie… you're not going to believe this."
It was the smell he first recognized.
Through the dank, moldy stench of the underground, the fresh air coming from above cut through it all. In that one whiff, he felt a spark of excitement jump down his spine, setting his heart alight. All at once, he felt his hope flare into an inferno at the mere thought of seeing the surface.
Though, with such hopes can a small plethora of worries, most notably being the idea of knowledge. If Iso Padre knew about his skirmish above Polaris and what happened in the shelter, then what were the odds that the rest of the surface knew about that too? Would the militia that was after him leak the truth to the public? Would it be like the situation in the underground, or would it be a witch hunt?
His musings were cut short as Sally had spoken up, breaking up the silence between the two.
"Is that…?" Tears began to prickle at the edge of her eyes. Had she finally noticed the fresh air…
…
Oh.
They'd entered some kind of… medical ward, by the looks of it. It was lined with beds and all manner of hospital furnishings, which were just as decayed as the rest of the place. However, it wasn't the furniture that caught Sally's eye, but rather what else seemed to have happened in here.
A fight went down here, it seemed, and recently too - what with the splattering of dried teal ink and all-to-familiar scorch marks up and down the walls of the medical ward. Furniture was scattered every which way, haphazardly tossed around in what he assumed was some attempt at keeping something from breaking in.
And then, he noticed the rest of the damage.
Many devices and bits of equipment littered the ground, some blown open by plasma, and some slashed apart with some sort of bladed weapon. Not a corpse in sight, but from what little he knew of the the ink-based people of the world, the massive splatters of teal ink littered about told a grim tale.
"I… I think this is where that Emily lady got into the Metro." he muttered, the dots connecting in his head, "Maybe."
He drew close to one scorch mark, running a finger over its burnt surface.
"Y-yeah, maybe…" Sally whimpered, still ever so disturbed by that strange woman.
"Hey, think about it this way, kid. If she's been through here, she's probably already taken care of anything that can get us up here."
"True, b-but… Spook, if those things could get up here…" she trailed off, shuddering.
"Yeah. I know." he muttered, apprehensively.
If the creatures they'd faced down there could get this far up out of the Metro, Lord only knows what horrors could befall them in the future. If they really were close to the surface, what could spill out? And, perhaps more importantly, how many other poor saps had fallen in here?
He decided not to mention that particular thought to Sally.
But for now, they had to keep going. Freedom was within their reach, and they couldn't get hung up on that fear again. Not after all they've been through.
Steeling himself, he turned to Sally, setting a hand on her shoulder.
"But y'know what else we know, kid? Smell that?"
"What?"
"I've been an outdoors guy for half my life, and I can tell you exactly what that smell is - it's fresh air. We're almost out of here." he said, reassuringly.
Sally perked up almost immediately, eyes going wide.
"W-we're almost out!?" she all but shouted, just as elated as him to be finally getting out of this hellhole.
"If we keep going up, we're all but guaranteed to hit the surface. There's no way this is a fluke, not this time. Not after all we've been through." he said, trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to keep Sally's head in the game.
"So, c'mon - we've gotta keep moving, alright? We'll make it out, as long as we can get through this last little stretch. Nothing can stop us now, you hear me?"
Sally was silent for a long moment. Then, she nodded.
Without another word, the two of them stepped past the wreckage and out of the medical ward, their confidence restored once more, even if temporarily.
After the medical ward, they had been thrust into a catacomb of hallways and wrecked rooms. Yet, unlike the subways of the Lower Metro, these were instead the remnants of an abandoned hospital, one that felt very human, minus the odd X-ray images and IVs. It was an incredibly creepy locale in its own right, what with all the mold growing on the walls and peeling wallpaper and all manner of other indicators of abandonment.
However, the further they went, the more 'standard' everything started to become, almost as if the hospital was aging in reverse as they went (albeit still caked in dust and mold.) Corridor after corridor all seemed to be ushering them in the same direction; up.
The newer sections of the hospital vaguely reminded him of one his father, bless his poor soul, worked at when he was younger. Despite all the technology and sterility of the space, it still set everybody within it on edge. If he had anything to say about it, he would've said it was haunted.
The Metro wanted to give him one last reminder of his past life, it appeared. Yet, no matter how many hooks tried to drag him back into the hell, they persevered.
They were passed it all now, and that natural smell only grew more and more clear. His heart bubbled with anticipation as they ascended the final stairwell.
Finally, they could see the proverbial (and literal) light at the end of the tunnel.
One last stairwell led to one last, heavy steel door, partially ajar. Silvery light streamed through the aperture, as did a stream of pure, fresh air.
Without saying a word, Sally shot up the stairs, taking them two at a time. With a burst of strength, she made it to the top, forced the door open fully, and stepped through.
From the stairwell, he could see the stars.
…
His own pace quickened, legs straining to push him up the final few steps.
Just a little bit further now.
Just…
One…
More…
STEP!
And with that, he achieved freedom. He stepped from the cramped corridors of the underground to the infinite expanse of the outdoors.
They had emerged from a heavily degraded concrete structure, overrun with vines and other plant life, which itself was partially subsumed into the face of a steep cliff and surrounded by trees. Judging by the crunch of sticks underneath his boots and the quiet rustling of the leaves, they had emerged into a forest. There was plenty of light out, on account of a full moon.
Despite all the millenia that had passed, it was still the same moon, still the same stars that shone down upon the earth. They had once shone on his world, and now they did so on Sally's. It was the closest he had felt to home in a long while.
The first thing he did was close his eyes, and take a deep breath of clean air. And next, exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
Divine. Simply divine. Transcendent, even.
It was a cold night out, with a fair wind that chilled his face and blew through the trees. There had been a part of him that had worried he would never experience this again.
What was less appealing, however, was the faint traces of glowing ink that were spattered about the structures. So, was this where Emily broke into the Metro from? Or… did something else escape and she went in behind it?
He felt an unconscious stab of guilt at the thought. He had a feeling she was still out there, but where? Had she made it out too? Or was she still relegated to the hell below their feet?
But, there was nothing he could do for her now. Best… forget about it for now.
He hated himself.
With a quick look about, he found Sally sitting by a break in the trees, where he could spy an incredible view.
The hill they were situated on was rather high up, seeing that they were fairly inland. And yet, they could see the coast. And by extension, the city.
It was quite far away, several miles at the very least, but even then, it shone like a beacon in the night, warm and inviting.
…
He dropped to a sitting position as well, barely able to contain the absolute euphoria that coursed through him, even though his guilt tried to quash it.
They'd made it out.
They MADE IT OUT!
Despite all odds, they'd escaped the Metro.
He couldn't stop himself from laughing a little, reveling in the joy of being alive once again. Sally herself was staring off at the city, tears of joy streaking down her two sat in silence for what felt like hours, just watching the moon, the stars, and the city.
"...I never thought I'd see the sky again," Sally whispered, her voice wavering.
"Me too, kid, me too," was his equally hushed response.
…
But, they couldn't sit there forever.
Eventually, he rose back to his feet, stretching out. With the euphoria fading, he could feel the weight of his responsibilities returning. Polaris still pulled at his soul, beckoning his attention. Even if his hands were stained with blood, his soul tarred by sin, there was still work to do.
Because at the end of the day, they were still alive, and that had to count for something.
"C'mon kid, we've got a long walk ahead of us."
Sally looked up to him blearily, but nodded, "Yeah, yeah, let's… get going then."
Though, she quickly perked up as she whipped out her phone, "Actually, let's see if we can get a bit of help!"
She tried to turn on her phone, but it refused to budge.
"Phooey…"
"Is it dead?"
Judging by the nod, it was.
Well, there went that option.
"Damn. Well, let's get walking, then. We have a lot of ground to cover."
It was only five minutes into their hike that Sally spoke up again.
"So… what will we do now?" she asked, "When we get back, I mean. My parents are going to be furious with me, and you… you'll be getting all sorts of attention!"
He sighed, "We'll figure that out once we get back. But for now, let's just be thankful we're alive."
There was much to be thankful for. Now that they were back on track, what could stop them?
Despite the tribulations that were no doubt in his future, for the first time in a long time, he finally felt hope.
The future finally looked a little bit brighter.
The Polaris Project
End of Act One
I cannot describe how good it feels to finally have finished the Metro arc, and by extension, this first act. Finally, it's time we get to the fun stuff of this fic.
Though, before that, allow me to be quite transparent. During the writing of this fic, I didn't exactly have what you would call a proper plan. Sure, I had ideas of where the story would go, but as I kept writing, the story kept changing, and in combination with my bad habit of not keeping many notes, was a recipe for disaster. Hence, why there are a few loose plot threads, lack of setup for many elements, and why sections tended to drag on for far longer than intended.
As such, I'll be taking some time to properly plot out the rest of the story in a concise manner. Alongside that, myself and a few friends will take the opportunity to review the story as a whole and perform a few tune-ups. Not a re-write, but more of a general polish, with the goal being to properly strengthen the plot, tie up unintended plot threads, and keep things the same as to not require a re-reading to understand future events.
Of course, aside from the planning, this will be done concurrently with the production of new chapters, so as to not repeat that time I dropped off the planet for a third of a year.
Aside from that, thank you for reading this far! I'm truly humbled by the amount of support I've received for this little project, and I hope not to disappoint going into the future. And finally, I'd like to give a big thanks specifically to FalkenJr, SpoopytheScout, AncientDragonDuelist, and the rest of Polariscord! Your help has been instrumental, and I don't know where this story would be without you!
Have a good one everyone, and see you in the next act!
If you want to hang out during this transitionary period, we have a Discord server. The invite code is: qCMxkGzzBg
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Some time later, as the sun rose over 'Inkopolis'…
"Y'know," Emily said, "Say what you will, but they certainly did capture our flair."
She sat in the eye of an immense statue, what the Son called the "NILS" statue. Despite it having partially sunk into the sea, she still had an impressive view of the city of 'Inkopolis'. A stupid, punny name thought of by an equally stupid and punny species. In the early morning twilight, she could almost mistake it for a human city. It gave her a curious sense of nostalgia, yet a more sickening one; she had never liked cities in the first place.
But, at least she was back on the surface.
It had been a… harrowing few hours of climbing through the guts of Kamabo's proper underground facility, the one that actually utilized proper spatial distortion. The Son had sounded quite disgusted when he had told her.
"OF COURSE THEY USED MY RESEARCH!" it had bellowed, "SO GOD DAMN FRIVOLOUSLY, TOO!"
Then there had been the ladder which spanned up hundreds of feet, which had been far from a thrill to climb.
But, it had led to the statue's innards. A horrid, decrepit mess of biological extender ink and machine guts was plastered to the floor, while the walls had been permanently stained a bright pink, for whatever reason.
For now, though, she was just resting. Contemplating her next move. Taking in the sharp tang of the sea's saltwater smell.
And, of course, blocking out the Prodigal Son's ramblings. Or, as she had begun to privately refer to it as, the 'Portable Son'. A small bit of his biological extender ink was perched on her neck, all manner of little circuits and contacts and speakers pressing themselves against the skin around her left ear. She swore a small, mechanical eye was peering from the mass, even if she couldn't see it.
Disgusting, yes, but her 'partner' had insisted on this little arrangement.
"AND OF COURSE THE GRIFTERS USE OUR ARCHITECTURE, TOO!" it shouted into her ear, "I would be quite interested in the historical evolution of posthuman architecture, IF IT WASN'T SO UTTERLY DISRESPECTFUL TO WHAT WE'VE ACCOMPLISHED!"
"Yeah, yeah…"
It made her skin crawl to think that this rogue AI was crawling inside her suit, and by extension hanging onto her neck. Part of their agreement was for her to free the AI from its shackles, and as such, it had made its home in her suit's outer lining layer and computing hardware. While she wasn't physically touching it (for the most part), she could feel every pulsation of its biological extender.
But, such was the price she paid for salvation.
Because, now, she held all the cards and had all the tools she needed. The AI had told her much, and she was ready to apply what she had learned.
She was one woman against the world; and yet, she had been baptized by fire. Once, when she awoke to the Aberrants breaching Borealis, and now, having survived the horrors that Kamabo's rogue elements had spawned.
These Aberrants, these spurned children of humanity, these noospheric abominations were going to wish they had never woken her up. Murdering the remnants of their parents was unforgivable.
She stood, as the sky turned orange and wreathed her in that damnable fiery glow once more. But this time? Emily wasn't running away, or defending what little she had left from the freaks who tried to take it.
Now?
Emily Hawthorne was going to be the one to set the goddamn fires.
In one hand, she held a great fishhook, a tool she'd come to adore since she borrowed it from a hapless fishery worker. With this, she was going to rend mankind's enemy asunder, a true fisher of (posthuman) men as the good book would've called her.
In the other? Her pistol, newly repaired and tuned by the Prodigal Son. One (admittedly malfunctioning) shot was all it took to torch and burn the entirety of Borealis, and now with the Son's adjustments it could do so much more to the poor Aberrant freaks that'd no doubt be standing in her way.
As God, and whatever the hell else was out there watching her was her witness, she was going to have her revenge.
Humanity will not go out with a whimper.
Not on her watch.
Not while she still had work to do.