The Vacuan sky, dyed in vibrant hues of purples and oranges, cast its colors upon the endless banks of grit and sand. The winds, dry and sullen, had begun to carry within them the biting chill of a desert night. The lonesome sun, settling low in its daily trajectory, cast waning rays upon the haggard silhouettes of four forms peering over the edge of a harrowing precipice.
"Hey...Em?" The first spoke hesitantly, voice layered thickly with tones of disbelief and subdued unease.
"Yes, Mercury?" The second fared just as well, carmine eyes wide as they scanned the desolate expanse before them.
"We got really lucky back there, didn't we?" He asked, but the evidence lay clearly before their eyes.
"I think so, Mercury."
"Like, she could've turned us into a smear on the floor without even trying."
"It really does look like that."
At the pair's side, still supporting her unconscious partner, Neo nodded fervently in horrified agreement.
Climbing out of the pit had been a momentous struggle. The cataclysmic blow levied against the stone firmament had been precise, compressed, but had expanded outwards in its range as it progressed. This resulted in an egress that was narrow and near-vertical at the start, but gradually widened into steep slopes the further up they climbed.
Now, as they gaped down at the hole from which they had clambered from, Mercury and Emerald became acutely aware of just how closely they had courted death deep below the sands of Vacuo. It had been a fool's plan from the very beginning. There was no hope in contending with this.
The group stared in silence. Peering into the distance, they could not discern an ending to the massive crater whose breadth stretched well past the horizon.
Rap rap rap. Tap tap.
The noise, steady and constant, grated on Watts's ears. A vein throbbed in his forehead. A small but persistent twitch had already begun to form beneath his left eye.
Rap rap rap. Tap tap.
The cadence was damnably consistent. Three short raps beat into the table, a pause, followed by another two in quick succession. Over and over and over again. Three and two, three and two. Watts's patience was hanging on by the barest thread and, if the sly grin upon the girl's face was any indication, that had been the intent.
Despite their supposed collaboration, Watts found that his co-conspirator seemed to derive some perverse satisfaction from badgering him in the most menial, petty ways. It was never anything overtly aggressive. To most, it would simply seem that she held a penchant for mischief. To Watts, however, the frequent, thinly-veiled jabs at his competence and intellect were insults of the highest order. Insults which he could naught but bear.
Bronie finished off the slice of pizza that she had been working on before sighing contentedly and slouching back into her seat. Lazily, she finally deigned to address the increasingly irate doctor.
"If I recall, you asked me what they–what Fu Hua and RABBIT– actually are, right?" She received a foul glare and an exasperated sigh in response.
"Yes." Watts snapped dourly. "Twenty minutes ago. You've since done nothing but eat and smirk at me. And for all that the Brothers hold sacred, would you please cease that infernal tapping?"
Surprisingly, she acquiesced, drawing her hand back with a small laugh. "I never took you for a particularly religious man, Watts." She languidly waved away the barbed tones.
His brow arched deeper in consternation. "I would gladly convert if it would cause you to see even the slightest semblance of reason and cease with these childish antics." The bored, vaguely disinterested look plastered upon her face only served to incense him further. "I was under the impression that the work which you would have me undertake is of a critical nature, yet you seem content to while away the time pursuing nothing, save for juvenile pranks and mischief."
"Reason, huh? Now isn't that something." Something in his choice of words seemed to perk a peculiar mirth within the small girl. "You're in too much of a hurry. Patience is a virtue, you know."
"I am hardly a virtuous man."
She smirked. "On that, we can agree." With half lidded eyes, she peered lazily out from under the brim of her hood. The silence this time was one of contemplation, and when she spoke again, the levity had largely drained from her words. "Tell me, doctor, what do you suppose the nature of the world–of existence–truly is?"
Watts suppressed another sigh, though his irritation abated slightly as he realized that she was finally addressing his question–albeit, in her usual, roundabout way. He was quickly becoming used to these odd tangents the girl would often bring up. Dissuading her was a practice in futility, and their meandering conversations always led back to the topic at hand, eventually. That knowledge did not make it any less disagreeable, however.
"Do you plan to lecture me on the perception of reality again?" He asked. "I assure you, I've heard more than enough on that particular topic."
She snorted. "I'm sure. No, no, what I am talking about is very much grounded in tangible terms." She shifted in her seat, pulling herself back into a semi-respectable posture and adopting a lecturing tone. "The nature of the world is, at its most fundamental, simultaneously tenuous, yet certain."
Watts raised a brow, intrigued.
"Causality is absolute. Deterministic." She recited pensively. "A definite cause gives rise to a definite effect. Given all the requisite variables, one could calculate the future with certainty. But." She licked her lips, fixing the doctor with an unnerving, steely stare, alight with the flicker of intrigue. "What happens if the variables themselves have no definite answer? Conversely, what happens if the variables are all, at once, every conceivable answer?"
She balanced a cup of soda precariously on its edge, held in place with a single finger. The sloshing and rattling of ice informed Watts that it was still half-full.
"In that case," she continued, tottering the container back and forth, "it is reasonable to assume that every possible outcome is, similarly, valid."
She lifted her finger and Watts was struck with a peculiar vision. The cup seemed to split, each version of itself occupying the same instant in time. In one, it righted itself, wobbling slightly as it settled. In another, it toppled, sending its contents cascading across the table.
"All possibilities exist in tandem, but we only ever experience a single outcome."
Watts blinked and when he opened his eyes once more, the cup stood, a single entity, undisturbed.
Bronie shrugged, picking up the cup and taking a rattling draw from the straw. "To put it simply, the moment something becomes 'observed,' its potential state collapses definitively into any one result. There is only ever a single observed effect for every cause. Now, the million-lien question: What happens to every other potential outcome?"
Watts scoffed at the ridiculous question. "Clearly there would be no such thing."
Bronie shook her head. "On the contrary, they all exist. They never stopped existing. We are just no longer in a position to observe any outcome besides the one we are presented with."
Using her index finger, she traced a line on the table with the contents of the drink that had not spilled. Watts blinked again. The cup lay on its side. A sweet, orange liquid stretched forth from it, its edges slowly bleeding across the table.
"Every variation in the equation produces endless variations of their own. At every moment, reality is diverging into an infinite number of branches of 'what-ifs' and 'could-have-beens.'" She took another sip. The table was dry once again, the cup held in her hand. "It's quite impossible to properly comprehend on a human scale, if I'm being honest." She flicked an errant ice cube with a finger. It splashed noisily through the saccharine puddle, landing right in front of Watts. He blinked, and it vanished.
"Would you please stop doing that?"
"Doing what?" She asked innocently, a mischievous flicker dancing in her eyes. "It's already happened. You just need to make up your mind on which outcome you want to see."
"I would like to see whichever one gets us to the point faster," he shot back, his tone rising once again.
"Fine, then. Consider the implications of what I've told you for a moment." She set the cup off to the side and steepled her fingers before her face. "When given an infinite set consisting of every possible arrangement of variables, all conclusions become valid. Every possibility, every outcome, conceivable or otherwise, has and will, without fail, come to pass along one of these chains of causality." She smirked slyly. "For example, there are an infinite number of outcomes where a young Arthur Watts never grew up into a vindictive, narcissistic ass, as unimaginable as that sounds." She paused for a moment, expecting enraged protests, but huffed when none came. "Really? No response?"
"Where is all of this heading?" Watts asked instead, ignoring the jab. He had gleaned enough from the girl's personality to understand that she rarely engaged in idle chatter or meaningless theories. As ridiculous as the things she said were, they always had a relevant endpoint.
"I'm getting to that. Be patient," she answered curtly. "As you can imagine, this system is boundless. A set of infinite variations is, well, infinite. Go figure."
Here, her expression turned serious, signaling that they had finally approached the real meat of the conversation. "However, even in a system that is, ostensibly, endless, there remains a limit to what can exist within–some factor that denies unlimited growth."
"I presume you are referring to energy?" Watts hazarded a guess. It was a fundamental amongst fundamentals.
She nodded approvingly. "The nature of existence tends towards entropy; the default state is that which has a proclivity for decay." She recited the words rotely; they were a universal given, an inviolable edict. "In order for a system to overcome entropy, energy must be expended, yet energy cannot be created from nothing. Therein lies the crux of the matter." She peered critically at the older man. "If infinite world lines are constantly diverging at every given point, but energy cannot be perpetually created, what do you suppose happens?"
"Well," Watts murmured hesitantly, "I imagine certain systems will collapse, or otherwise stagnate."
"Partially correct," Bronie agreed. "Some do, but merely allowing stagnant world lines to slowly collapse on their own simply isn't enough. Something else must facilitate the process. Those that are deemed worthy are allowed to survive and those that are not are culled."
"Deemed worthy? Allowed?" Watts's tone was dubious. "You act as if this system has any sort…of…Will." his eyes widened as his mind rapidly assembled the pieces of the puzzle. "Oh. Oh."
Bronie smiled wanly. "Finally put it together? I did call it the 'limiting force,' didn't I?"
"Wait," he said. "From what you've explained, this…Honkai, was it?...is incomprehensibly powerful. If its purpose is to cull, then why have we not already been eliminated? Surely it has the capability to do that, at least."
"You're right," Bronie agreed. "Or, should I say, you would be right if its purpose was merely to destroy. As you say, it is well within its means to end worlds. It has done so a countless number of times. If it were to bring its full force to bear, there would be nothing any of us could do about it. Yet it does not. Instead, it evolves alongside civilization. It sends threats that we are just barely able to surmount time and again. Why do you suppose that is?"
The lines along Watts's face furrowed deeply, and he idly stroked his mustache as he thought. "It is…a test?" He finally surmised.
Bronie nodded. "That's the theory," she confirmed. "Those civilizations that are able to pass the Will's test, for lack of a better word, are permitted to exist and those that cannot are eradicated. A simple system." She stared pensively into her empty cup. "The Will has its test, and a test needs its proctors. So the Willl manifests those who would administer its judgment." The words tumbled from her lips in slow, measured notes. "You ask me what beings like Fu Hua and RABBIT are? The answer is simple, really. They are Honkai."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, don't look so worried," Bronie chastised. "They're on our side. They were properly human once, you know. Through some way or another, they each became an envoy of the Will. Manifestations of Honkai incarnated in flesh and given Authority."
Watts could sense the peculiar stress the girl placed on 'Authority,' but opted to hold his peace. He did not want to risk setting her off on another tangent.
"They were tasked with bringing ruin to civilization, but managed to break from its influence. They opted to side with humanity." Over the course of her explanation, the girl's face had grown progressively more dour. "It seemed like they were winning, for a time," she said, her tone heavy and bitter. An oppressive silence lingered
"But?" Watts finally prompted.
"But in the end, they failed." She stated simply. "The end. Humanity could not be saved."
"Surely there must be more to it than that."
"There is, but it is neither pertinent that you know, nor something I particularly care to talk about. It's a sore topic for her, you know?" Bronie pointed vaguely upwards towards the virtual sky. "So, by extension, it's a sore topic for me."
Watts grumbled in dissatisfaction. "I don't suppose pursuing this line of questioning will yield anything more?"
"Clever boy. He's learning."
"Very well then." He was quickly becoming rather adept at filtering out the casual mockery that was so frequently slung his way. He changed tack, expounding on a point the girl had made in passing. "You mentioned them to be human at first, correct?"
She stilled. A nod and the slightest narrowing of her eyes.
"Which means they must have transformed in some way," he concluded. "The process for becoming this…envoy–"
"Herrscher," Bronie supplied, voice tight and restrained. "They were called Herrschers."
"For becoming a Herrscher," Watts corrected, continuing as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Can it occur on Remnant?"
"Looking to do a bit of side research? Maybe experiment a bit?" Though the girl's tone was light, her stare had become frigid cold. "I would advise against even considering it. Individuals far more powerful than yourself have tried and failed with catastrophic consequences."
"I am not Merlot." Watts denied flatly. "I have no interest in creating monsters." He actually sounded quite offended by the insinuation. "The fact that you have enlisted my services and are bothering to tell me all this implies that you expect something of the sort to come, does it not? I merely wish to prepare myself for that eventuality."
"Hm. Fair enough." The furrows along the girl's brow relaxed considerably. "Though, if such a situation ever came to pass, there's not much anyone can really do. Herrschers are walking cataclysms. The devastation caused by one simply awakening would be enough to ruin a city."
She paused for a moment in consideration. "As far as whether it could happen, perhaps. Though, it would be exceedingly unlikely. A tremendous amount of Honkai energy is required for the condensation of a Herrscher core. Remnant simply does not have access to that." She shrugged carelessly. "Besides, barring certain outstanding lineages, humanity on Remnant has exceptionally poor Honkai adaptability. The average person would die long before being exposed to the requisite amount of radiation."
"And you are certain of this?"
Bronie nodded. "From what the records have shown, the people of Remnant seem to have a natural difficulty in developing Honkai resistance. And the records go quite far back. Fu Hua and the others have been around for a long, long time, you know."
"Yes, I've witnessed as much."
"You have. Though, I may have been understating the significance of their presence. Somewhere along the line, they may have," she hesitated for a moment, trying to find an appropriate word, "tampered…with one of the earlier iterations of humanity."
"Modifications to the genome?" Watts easily parsed the true meaning behind her words. "That early? Preposterous."
"Is it?" She raised a challenging brow. "Do you seriously mean to tell me that you've never once considered the development of humanity on Remnant to be just a little bit abnormal? Don't you think it's odd that Faunus carry the traits of wildly different animals, yet consistently adhere so closely to human physiology? Or that the legendary 'silver eyes' are so specifically detrimental to grimm and only to grimm?" She punctuated each point with an excitable tap on the table. "There are so many incongruities in humanity's development that it's hard not to think it's, at least in part, a result of something more….purposeful. Naturally occuring selective pressures are rarely so convenient or specific."
"We are…manufactured? To whatever specifications that these things have chosen?" The thought alone was repugnant to Watts.
Bronie hummed, choosing to ignore the disgust in the man's tone. "Not quite 'manufactured,'" she corrected. "More like 'modified.'"
"To what end?"
"The same which drove them to seal themselves away. It was seen as an unfortunate necessity, at the time." She spoke dispassionately, as if she were merely discussing the weather, though a slight, deprecating lilt colored her tones. "Humanity was weak; their chances of surviving long enough to form a proper civilization were slim, at best. Not only were there grimm to contend with, but the presence of Herrschers meant that they would eventually have honkai-related issues to deal with as well. It was RABBIT's idea to attempt to inoculate them in preparation for that."
"I think this goes far beyond a simple inoculation."
"That's all it was intended to be, truly." Her tone, at least, seemed genuine. "It was a sound idea, on paper. Admittedly, the requisite materials were difficult to obtain, but she had the capability to perfectly fabricate replicas, so it wasn't an issue. The treatment itself was already proven to work. It was a prudent decision with a low risk factor." Bronie paused, shaking her head. "But she made a mistake. She failed to take into account the fact that humanity on Remnant varied wildly from the humanity that they were familiar with."
"Varied? In what way?"
"Aura," Bronie answered simply. "Matters of the soul are difficult to properly quantify in scientific terms, and nearly impossible to account for in experimentation. The treatment interacted adversely with aura. Unintended side-effects manifested, ranging from minor discrepancies to more…significant…alterations in physicality. The mutations were never predictable and varied from person to person. The single consistent outcome was that none of the subjects developed any form of resistance to prolonged Honkai exposure, latent or otherwise."
She sighed, restlessly rolling her shoulders and rose to her feet. "Let's walk around for a bit. Sitting for this long is making me antsy."
They strode aimlessly through the garish wonderland, Bronie leading the way while Watts stalked cautiously behind, shooting scowls at the leering, bulbous mascots whenever their meandering paths brought them far too close for comfort. What passed for night in this place had begun to fall, and the various stalls and attractions lit up one by one as they passed.
"In short, it was a failure." Bronie finally continued after they had walked for a while. They had stopped at a crossing, cordoned off for a gregarious parade of the park's mascots, marching in time to some unidentifiable music. "RABBIT was unable to procure the desired results and opted to cease operations. In lieu of proper treatment, she had hoped that constant exposure to minute quantities of radiation over the course of millenia would be enough to eventually produce a Honkai-resistant strain of humanity."
"It didn't work?" Watts guessed.
"Nope. Aura is really a handy thing. It keeps the bad stuff out and lets everything else in–and radiation of any sort is generally considered 'bad stuff.' The problem is that the body can't really develop a resistance to something that the aura is actively keeping at bay." She sighed. "It wasn't a complete loss. At the very least, few, if any, of the mutations proved to be malign. Some were even quite beneficial. For example–Hey, are you still listening?" Bronie had turned to address her companion, only to find that he was no longer behind her.
Watts had begun trailing further and further behind as they walked and Bronie found his face ashen, with perspiration condensing thickly over his skin. As soon as she stopped, he toppled onto a pathside bench with a groan, barely able to remain upright.
"It's that time already, huh?" She asked, standing in front of his slumped form. "I take it question-time is over, then?"
A beleaguered wave motioned for her to speak her piece.
"Good, then it's my turn." The girl's tone shifted immediately from idyllic reminiscence to one that was entirely business.
"Yes, yes, go on. Explain the details of your glorious plan," Watts managed to huff through grit teeth. It felt like hours since he had entered the simulation, and the mental fatigue associated with the prolonged neural stimulation was beginning to present noticeable symptoms. A migraine had seized full control over his faculties and roiling waves of nausea had begun to constantly emanate from within his gut. "Can't you do something about this?" He groaned, valiantly quashing the desire to vomit, instead panting deep, labored breaths.
"Hm." She pulled up a vivid, blue interface, speaking as she swiped through menus. "Can't do anything about the nausea. You'll just have to deal with that. I can deactivate your pain receptors while we're in the simulation, but it's just going to make things worse when you wake up."
"I don't care, just do it."
"Fine."
She rapidly typed in a command, and the intense waves of discomfort abated, replaced with a disconcerting numbness.
"I'll make it quick," she said. "As of right now, Atlas has ceased all outward communications and have shut down seventy-five percent of the Kingdom's internal transmissions. The remaining twenty-five percent is for critical infrastructure that cannot be relegated to auxiliary systems. The kingdom is, essentially, in a citywide blackout."
"They took the bait."
"Of course they did." She scoffed derisively. "For all their noble words, people are always going to cover themselves first and foremost. Knowing that a near-omniscient being is snooping through your browsing habits isn't something that would sit well with the higher ups. I hear Ironwood had the council's approval within a day of the shutdown proposal."
"Is today the day that I am finally allowed to learn what all of this is for?" Watts asked dryly. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I quite like what you've done to the kingdom."
She quirked a brow. "I already told you. I need to get into Atlas. The heart of Atlas."
"Yes, yes, you need to get there in order to retrieve some indeterminate thing," he snapped impatiently. "You've already told me that. What I want to know is why. Particularly, why you feel that you need my assistance in doing so. You seem quite capable enough on your own."
"Atlas's defenses are formidable," the girl stated simply.
Watts scoffed. "Do you truly believe that any of the imbeciles that the military employs could hope to contend with you? It's been less than a month and you've managed to put the entirety of the kingdom on lockdown."
"You flatter me Watts, truly." The sarcasm in her tone clearly indicated what she thought of his assessment. "Besides, it's not them that I'm worried about."
"Then who?"
In response, she merely pointed a finger skyward.
It took a moment for Watts to understand what she meant. "RABBIT?" He asked incredulously. "I was under the impression that you were allies."
"Our relationship is complicated. At the moment, we are currently…at odds, to put it simply." Her tone informed him that she would delve no further on that particular topic. "The important point is that any significant incursion on Atlas–physical or digital–will be met personally by her. Neither you nor I have any hope of contending with that."
Bronie hummed vaguely. "Her ears and eyes are every single device on Atlas's network. Surveillance cameras, personal scrolls, television, all of it functions as extensions of her." A sly smirk pulled lightly at her lips. "However, now that all non-essential network functions are offline…"
"She is effectively blind and deaf," Watts realized. "That's why you shut down the kingdom?"
"I didn't shut it down, Atlas's Technical Division did. I just played my part as an upstanding member of society and made their director aware of a significant vulnerability in their system."
Watts snorted.
"In any case, the inflow of information to RABBIT is severely hindered for the time being. Ironwood thinks he's locked her in a prison of her own making."
"Hasn't he?"
"For now. But it won't last. We have a month. Within a month, the auxiliary network systems will have been modified to handle Atlas's traffic and all major services will be migrated there. All access to the primary system will then be cut off."
"I'm afraid I don't follow. Would that not serve to isolate her further?" Watts asked. "I can't imagine that being anything but a benefit to us."
Bronie shook her head. "Her ears and eyes are every single device on Atlas's network," she repeated. "They are extensions of herself, and I do mean that quite literally–a fragment of her conscience exists within all of the devices that have ever touched Atlas's system. On their own, cut off from the Core, they can't do much, but the moment even a single one interfaces with the new network, she will regain access and all of this would have been wasted effort. We have a month."
"If the timing is so crucial, would it not be prudent to address it as soon as possible? I see no purpose in waiting."
"Do you want to go waltzing straight into Atlas HQ alone and see what happens?" She asked dryly. "We have the brains, but none of the brawn. I'm still waiting on a few more members to round out our little entourage. People that excel at getting into places that they aren't supposed to get into."
"You have someone in mind?"
"I have someones in mind. From what I understand, you are well acquainted."
"Em, d'you think that's another mirage?"
"Of course it is, you idiot. Why would there be a bullhead just sitting out here in the middle of nowhere?"
Yet, what appeared to be a bullhead was, indeed, sitting alone amongst the dusty dunes, its sharp, metallic finish shining in stark contrast to the vast, desolate expanse around them. The rear loading bay lay open, seemingly inviting them in.
"We could fly it out of here. There might even be food and water on board." Her partner, half-delirious from exhaustion and dehydration didn't even seem to register her words.
"It's not real, alright?" Emerald sighed. "Let's just keep moving. Where did Neo go?"
The banging of metal on metal attracted their attention. The girl in question stood on the craft's ramp, umbrella tapping impatiently on the steel before she turned and disappeared into the airship's innards, an unconscious Roman in tow.
Emerald and Mercury shared a baffled look.
"Sure seems real to me," Mercury said. "Should we follow her?"
"Well…" Emerald began hesitantly, scanning the barren expanse around them. "We don't really have any other options, do we?"
The pair followed the diminutive thief towards the ship, both shivering slightly as a blast of cool air chilled their sweat-laden clothes.
Mercury entered without hesitation, whistling at the pristine interior. "This baby's brand new. An Atlesian B-62. Forget top-of-the-line, this model's not even slated for release for another few months. What the heck is it doing all the way out here?"
"Yeah, yeah, alright gearhead. Did that doctor swap your brains out for machines, too?" Emerald doubtfully peered into the ship from the edge of the ramp, and hesitantly shuffled inside. She had already drawn one of her kamas. "Still, you have to admit there's something really weird about this thing being here. Like it was just waiting for us." She shook her head. "We should leave, I've got a bad feeling."
As if confirming her words, the metal ramp hissed quietly shut behind them the moment she fully entered the loading bay. Both whirled in alarm as the ship suddenly roared to life, ascending vertically at a dizzying rate.
"Whoa, whoa, what the hell!" Mercury yelled, instantly at full alert. Stumbling to maintain his footing, he rushed back to the boarding ramp, beating his fist ineffectually against the metal.
You are being rescued. Please do not resist. A voice, mechanical, but definitely female, sounded over the ship's intercom.
"Rescued…my…ass!" Mercury shouted, punctuating each word with a reinforced kick against the hull.
The voice chimed in again. Please cease violent actions and take your seats. This flight offers an in-flight movie and a complimentary snack bar. We at Bunny Airlines ask that you partake in these amenities for the duration of your journey.
"I'll…partake…in kicking…this…damn…door…down." The metal dented significantly with every heavy blow.
"Mercury, that doesn't even make sense. Will you just shut up and sit down," Emerald hissed. "We're thousands of feet above the desert. What're we going to do even if we do get out?"
The boy's response was cut off by a final announcement from the loudspeaker.
Damage to craft interior detected. Updating subject designations to 'Hostile.' Countermeasures are being deployed. Thank you for flying Bunny Airlines, please enjoy your flight.
"Countermeasures?" Emerald asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She was answered by a metallic clatter as the ship vents simultaneously opened, a low hiss soon following. A sweet smell wafted against Emerald's nostrils.
She bolted instinctively, rushing to the door leading to the main cabin and tugged on the handle ineffectually. It was locked. "He was just kidding!" She shouted desperately, her hand flying up to cover her nose. "We'll take the on-flight movie! And the snacks!"
No response came, and the pair found themselves rapidly becoming disoriented. Their vision began to swim into blurs of color, with blackness slowly claiming larger and larger swathes of their sight.
Emerald collapsed, croaking before she passed out, "Mercury…you…idiot."
"You can't be serious."
"I absolutely am. Besides, there's no calling it off now. The transport I sent is programmed for a round trip and nothing more. We can't just leave them in the middle of the Solitas wilds when they land.
"We absolutely can," Watts insisted. "Those children have been nothing but a nuisance since Cinder picked them up. I fail to see how they can offer even the slightest bit of assistance."
"You fail to see how anyone can hope to offer the slightest bit of assistance to your oh-so-magnanimous self," Bronie shot back. "They'll have their uses. Just consider it to be something like company restructuring. Cinder's lackeys are now your lackeys."
"Mine?"
"Well, I certainly can't be bothered to babysit children, after all. I've got more important things to do and you currently can't risk leaving the building. Someone needs to be pulling the weight here."
Watts fumed in silence but ultimately could not form a rebuttal. She was correct, as always, and it made his innards seethe. They were sorely lacking in manpower, and she had a means to provide it. He only wished the help wasn't so…inept.
The idea that this would be the team that he needed to work around worried him immensely. Though he hadn't had a significant amount of interaction with Cinder's whelps, what little he did have left him sorely unimpressed. The boy was brash and unstable and the girl was a fawning sycophant. They weren't simply useless. They were a hindrance. If Bronie's tale held even a seed of truth, then he didn't fancy their odds. The being that they were contending with may as well be an omniscient–
His irate musings screeched to a halt as a terrible thought occurred to him.
"Say," Watts began uncomfortably, "if this RABBIT truly has such mastery over the Atlesian network, and she is the one who designed this space, then is it not possible that we are already compromised? That she has already seen our plans?"
"Nope," Bronie stated simply.
"You sound terribly confident." Watts eyed her suspiciously. "I don't suppose I should ask why?"
"That…" Bronie trailed off, before grinning cheekily. "Well, I suppose I can just show you."
Watts blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Rather than answer, the girl merely waved her hand dismissively. Immediately, his vision cut to black, and in the next instant he was lying on his bed once more.
Shifting slowly into a seated position, he gingerly extracted his head from the infernal, leering device, placing it at his side. Haggardly, he grasped at his bedside table for the painkiller and glass of water he had placed prior to the session.
Muffled pounding thumped against his eardrums, a splitting ache building behind his eyes. He always retained a bit of a migraine for a while after leaving the simulation. It was an unfortunate side-effect of the technology, he had been told. The device operated by stimulating neural activity in the place of conventional senses, though when it came to the average person, it had the tendency to overstimulate. It had originally been tuned for more resilient minds, to use his associate's wording. What exactly that meant, he had not yet learned, but the throbbing between his ears clearly indicated that he did not fall within that group.
Wearily, Watts massaged his temples in an attempt to alleviate the beating in his ears, but found that the steady noise did not purely originate from his own misfiring neurons. Someone was banging on the wall neighboring his.
It was odd; he had always assumed that the rooms on either side of his had been unoccupied, or that the tenants were simply very quiet people. The walls of this tenement were shamefully thin, yet he had never before heard so much as the squeak of furniture or the general shuffling of bodies to indicate habitation in the neighboring abode.
Now, however, an insistent thumping on the wall adjoining his beat with a steady, peculiar rhythm. Three and two, three and two, incessantly, repeatedly.
Watts stilled, blood chilling in his veins upon noticing the odd cadence.
Three and two.
Surely not?
He paused, unconsciously holding his breath and waiting to see if his neighbor would cease the racket. Wait as he did, the knocking did not abate in the slightest.
Slowly, dreadfully, he rose to his feet. Donning an oversized, hooded coat, he made his way from the bedroom through the living room and to the front door. Pulling the deep cowl low over his face, he cautiously poked his head out onto the balustrade, shivering slightly as a wave of brisk, winter air wafted down to his bones. Seeing it empty, he warily stepped outside.
The noises had come from the room to the right of his. Three-sixteen. Like a man doomed to the gallows, he hesitantly approached the suddenly-foreboding door, his hand raised in a halfhearted knock. Before his knuckles had so much as grazed the rough, splintered wood, he found the aperture already swinging inwards. A familiar, cheeky grin greeted him once the door was fully ajar.
"Nice to finally meet you in person, neighbor."
Atlas heist, let's go.
This chapter's just a whole lot of talking. I probably went a bit long with the Bronie and Watts dialogue, but I found myself liking their interactions, so I decided to indulge and have a bit of fun with it. Next chapter will be with our Beacon group and then it's off to Arc Three.
I particularly enjoy these dialogue-heavy chapters because it's mostly just me sorting my own thoughts out through the characters. We will be back to more action-based content shortly. Truth be told, I'm just putting off writing more fight scenes for as long as possible. Writing is hard.
One thing I've seen brought up is that Bronie is Captainverse Bronie, and I'm going to go ahead and quash that theory. For all intents and purposes, she's essentially an OC with an extreme, uncanny resemblance to Bronie for reasons. I'm not nearly confident enough in my knowledge of Captainverse lore to properly write about it. That, and I'm already having trouble keeping up with the cast we do have; I'd really rather not have nerds popping in from another timeline to muddy everything up even more.
I'm planning to start streaming my writing sessions on twitch. Partly because I'd like to have some semblance of structure/regularity/discipline, and partly so that if I end up going MIA for a bit longer than usual there's a record that I'm actually just stuck on a part and not dead in a ditch somewhere. I'll figure out how to keep the VoDs up, so if y'all want informal progress reports, you've got 'em. As long as you don't mind chapter/story plan spoilers, of course.
I'll probably wind up doing some coding practice there as well, since I'm going to have to stop being a failure and get a proper job at some point. God, I don't want to have to work another holiday clusterfuck in retail ever again.
This end note turned out to be more of a journal entry than anything substantial or informative. I've been a bit frazzled lately, which makes me ramble more than usual.
