Human behavior was strange and full of stupidity.
The other two, Revenant recognized, were trying to punish him for abandoning his team in favor of securing more kills- attempting to make him feel shame, as if it were an emotion that he had in common with their kind. For some irrational reason that the simulacrum would never understand, skinbags were terrified of being alone.
He preferred it.
In solitude, there was no confinement. He didn't have to behave a particular way to reach a goal- whether the stifling politeness he'd been forced into when he still believed that he was human, or the more natural, aggressive demeanor that he used now to repel them.
Smart polymer once again formed new molecular bonds, repairing and replacing damaged components of his body with new material. As the healing technology of the Apex Games did its job, Revenant contemplated walking out on his teammates. They were on the roof, paying no attention to him, and the door was right there. Perhaps he could find Wraith and secure that kill- the one Bloodhound had denied him…
"Do not think about it, mannfjandi."
The hunter stood on the staircase with their arms folded over their chest.
Revenant glared at them, the orange light from his optics reflecting off the lenses of their goggles.
"What does it matter to you? I kill them all while you cower in this building, and you'll still get a share in the victory."
"As I lead us today, it is my duty to protect our team," Bloodhound answered. "You may not like it - or care - but I would have failed, should I allow you to run away to an early end."
The assassin stalked toward Bloodhound, slowly, methodically. When he had nearly closed the distance, he raised his hand in front of him. It reconfigured into the form of a stabbing weapon, the pointed tip inches from the tracker's neck.
Revenant towered over Bloodhound, the hunter's eyes being level with the center of his chest. He watched for the slightest reaction from the hunter- a flinch, a twitch, a subtle tensing of the shoulders…
Bloodhound, however, did not move. They continued to hold their ground calmly with a closed but relaxed stance. From the top of the stairs, Crypto held his breath as he watched the standoff.
"I lead us today," the hunter finally repeated. "You will do as I say as such are the rules of the Games."
Crypto's hand was on his rifle, ready to protect himself should Revenant decide to retaliate. He doubted that the simulacrum cared about the rules of the Games. The corporation, of course, wanted things on their terms- if a competitor did intentionally kill their teammate, they forfeited their winnings.
He doubted that Revenant would mind such a consequence.
To the hacker's surprise, after a couple of long, tense seconds, Revenant stepped back. He lowered, then retracted, the bladed weapon in his forearm.
"Thank you," said Bloodhound.
For once, Revenant didn't come back at his teammate with an insult or dismissive retort.
Bloodhound hadn't wasted his time with some bullshit speech about teamwork or leadership. They'd kept their reasoning short and factual: by the rules of the Games, they were in charge. Those rules - though arbitrary - were a directive that the hunter was following.
Revenant could put up with that.
Silently, he took up a position at the door, keeping watch for enemies through the glass panes. It was unlikely, he figured, that anyone would approach from that direction- he was facing southwest, and the opposing teams he'd seen had been positioned north. The others were more central in the Ring, holding their ground there until forced to fight, while Bloodhound had kept their team skirting around the edges of the wall of death.
For all that he despised working with others, Revenant could appreciate the tactical brilliance in the hunter's strategy. By pathing along the perimeter of the Ring as they'd done, they'd kept themselves to the outside of the opposing teams- allowing themselves to pick and choose fights that favored them, and making it difficult for a flanker to take an angle behind them.
If Bloodhound would only proceed more aggressively after securing the positional advantage - go for the kills rather than spend so much time scouting - it would be perfect.
After Crypto's EMP had forced the other competing teams to back off from one another, the air around them had become still and soft. A gentle breeze and the quiet movement of leaves, sand, and insects gave the arena an almost peaceful feeling, just for the moment. That was cut through abruptly by a mechanical whine. The sound was distant, then increased in volume and intensity as it drew closer. It prompted Crypto, then Bloodhound, to return to the roof and investigate its source.
From outside the Ring, a spacecraft was approaching. This one was much smaller than the drop ship that brought them from the staging area to the arena; it had only one compartment behind the cockpit, large enough for four people to stand crowded together.
It was returning a competitor who'd died in combat to the battlefield in a new body, cloned and printed cell by cell- ready to fight with no memory of the horrors they'd endured.
Bloodhound watched the rear gate of the ship open through the scope of their Triple Take. Perhaps the Allfather would see fit to grant them a clean shot and a kill before the opponent's feet even touched the ground…
"If only we could get on that ship."
Bloodhound lowered the sniper rifle and turned toward Revenant, head tilted. They watched, reserved, to find out where such a statement would lead.
"Why?" said Crypto harshly. "You're so eager to get yourself killed… Surely you've been on one before."
"Use your brain, you absurd skin-suit," the assassin snarled back with equal acrimony. "Even if it is little more than a wet sack of meat… Those ships deliver fresh clones to the Games, from wherever they're produced. You think the facility is beneath the arena? I know it's at the other end of that ship."
Crypto opened his mouth to snap at Revenant. His breath caught in his throat before it could come back out in the form of irate words.
He'd rather not admit it, but the metal jackass had a good point.
The computer system that oversaw the cloning process must be tied into the corporation's primary network at Headquarters to receive the syncording data. If Crypto could get into that facility, he could surely gain remote access to the server at Headquarters. From there, he had the potential to find out anything he wanted about the corporation- first and foremost, where they were holding Mila.
"Those ships are unmanned," he muttered as the realization dawned on him.
"I expect so," said Revenant, "but they never land. They're not close enough to the arena grounds to board."
"No, they're definitely unmanned. I helped write the code that pilots them."
Both Revenant and Bloodhound turned to look at him, but Crypto was paying them no attention. The cogs and gears of his analytical mind were spinning at top speed. The computer systems that piloted the drop ships weren't well-protected from outside interference. There'd been no need for the corporation to spend money on additional firewalls for them- the Ring kept unauthorized personnel out of the Apex arena as it was.
If he could get his drone on board, he might be able to initiate a command that would tell the ship to land. The question, then, was how to do so without the corporation finding out. The camera drones that broadcasted the Games would catch him. He couldn't change their course from inside the arena, nor alter their video feed. They'd been designed to withstand the intense concentration of electromagnetic energy outside the Ring, so EMPing them wouldn't do anything...
An explosion rattled the building and shook the ground beneath their feet. It was near enough to snap Crypto's focus back to the present- to his immediate survival. This breakthrough wouldn't do him any good if he died in the arena before he could store the information somewhere permanent.
Digital storage was far more permanent than his own mind, his body- both of which were not the originals, and were the property of the Apex Games.
Bloodhound was already using the scope of their rifle to search the arena for the source of the explosion. Revenant was stationed on the hinged side of the door opposite the hunter, ready to tear the life from any flanker who dared to walk through it.
"They put some skinbag's syncording in my head."
The assassin spoke in a low growl, oddly devoid of his usual aggression. He faced the door rather than addressing his teammates.
"I need this data - these memories - out. They're not mine. They were used to deceive me into thinking I'm weak - human - and weakness isn't an option for me."
Revenant lunged at Crypto and knocked the hacker to the ground. He had moved from his position guarding the door, onto a collision course with his teammate, faster than the human eye could blink. Now he towered over Crypto, nearly seven feet of ruthless aluminum and steel molded into this form for the sole purpose of taking human life. He made no move to further harm the programmer, however; he merely glared down menacingly at the figure scrambling into a defensive stance on the rusty floor.
"Syndicate assassins took your sister, you say? I know all their operations in detail. Get me into that facility, so I can correct my syncording data, or I promise you, I will find your sister before you do."
At the commotion, Bloodhound turned away from the upper window. "Þegiðu! Ertu að djóka? We have not the time for this!"
They slung the rifle over their back as they marched down the stairs, freeing both of their hands so that they could simultaneously shove Revenant back and offer Crypto a hand up. Revenant pushed Bloodhound's outstretched arm away, none too gently, but without risk of causing damage.
"We will walk the perimeter of the Ring and clear the buildings in front of us of enemies, one by one," the hunter commanded. They looked pointedly at Revenant. "You move in first. I will follow, and prevent enemies from fleeing your attack. Crypto will watch our flank as we reposition."
Revenant grunted in acknowledgement of the order and exited the building without a glance at his teammates. This, he had no problem doing. It was his purpose, and he excelled at it.
With the simulacrum off their backs, Bloodhound's attention turned to Crypto. "Are you all right?"
The hacker shook his head. "I don't think so," he said, "but let's just finish this." He took a deep, shaky breath, exhaled slowly, and stepped outside.
Though they were careful not to let it show, Bloodhound had less confidence in this strategy. The smart thing to do would be to hold at the perimeter of the Ring, then move in as other teams made their presence known by fighting. This aggressive tactic came with a higher chance of being caught out without cover, or worse- caught between two different enemy teams.
Their team stood no chance of winning, though, if Revenant was allowed to continue threatening his teammates. The abomination of wire and free will couldn't remain idle, so Bloodhound had to adapt.
They closed the door of the building behind them and hurried along the east side to fall in line between their teammates.