Ch. 13: Roses are red…

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Good news, I did manage to find a new copy of BioShock 2. So, the updates should be more regular for now on.

Anyway,

The story does not progress that much but Eleanor and Delta bond some more.

The part with Sigma may be confusing because of Chapter 1 but remember that Delta was still disorientated then and thus could not recall everything that had happened until he calmed down.

Also, I appreciate that this story is still getting attention despite how long it has taken me to update.

As always, read and review if you want. Feedback is appreciated :)

As we made our way towards the diner, I reflected on my predicament. As powerful as I was, I was never intended to weather continuous fighting. Big Daddies required maintenance just like anything mechanical did. The decayed conditions of Rapture and the unavoidable wear and tear of combat were now against me. However, unlike the lumbering Tin Men, Alpha Series Big Daddies were designed and built with long-term survival in mind.

The Tin Men required near continuous maintenance in order to function adequately. Those R-34 wire modules within their suits, which, incidentally, were very important for the overall effectiveness of said lumbering giants, were unprotected and exposed to both environmental and combat damage. Any would-be attacker or salvager could easily remove the wire cluster without much experience or knowledge of working on the Mass Production Models.

Moreover, the suits of the Mass Production Models were particularly vulnerable to the corrosive conditions found in Rapture. The construction of the suits were their own worst enemy. While our suits were constructed using riveting, the Tin Men's construction often used welding in certain areas to cut costs. Welding reduced the weight of the giants' suits and also, at least on paper, strengthened them at the same time.

However, as the growing unrest began to creep into every part of Rapture, the quality of the welding began to suffer. The decline in the quality progressed to the point that the welded plates were failing under pressure. It reminded me of the old Liberty Ships when their construction shifted to welding to save weight. In the frigid conditions of the North Atlantic, as they were shipping supplies to England, the seams of the Liberty Ships were literally failing under the ships' own weight. Their designs were altered to include a reinforcing strip of steel on either side of the weak section in the center of the vessel and the issue was solved.

However, the Mass Production Models appeared to be receiving maintenance since they were still functional. Sofia must have reactivated the Point Prometheus facility. Otherwise, the mindless drones would have long since been rendered useless wrecks wallowing about in the partially sunken hallways of Rapture as if they were tortoises flipped over on their backs.

A thought occurred to me and I asked my brother, "Do you know who is responsible for the new Mass Production Model?"

Alpha grunted in response, "The dumb-asses with the rocket launchers? First saw them around the time that Sofia took control of Rapture. At first, they did not have a launcher. In fact, they were modified Rosie Models with lighter suits and rapid-firing Rivet Guns. That went on for a while until the Splicers learned to get in the Tin Man's face. Then, they shifted to some weird hunchback design that used a spiked mace thing at the end of a metal chain for close-quarters combat and a horribly inaccurate grenade launcher strapped to its back that was more dangerous to the Protector than a Splicer. What they are now is basically a modified version of that."

After a moment, he continued, "As to who…I am not certain but, if I had to venture a guess, I would suspect that Alexander has something to do with them."

The mentioning of my designer's name resonated within me. Gilbert Alexander, the man who gave birth to us. In a way, those of us in the Alpha Series considered him our father. We also wanted to break every bone in his body while we slowly tortured him to death. They treated us as if we were nothing. They treated the animals better than us. Alexander was good-natured compared to the rest of the butchers called scientists, but he still remained silent and did nothing to help us despite his guilt. They treated us as if we were nothing, broke us physically and mentally with inhumane experiments and Plasmid trials, and took our humanity from us but then blamed us for being "failures" as if it had been our fault.

Still, if he was still alive and sane, the man could be of some use to us. He might even be willing to shed some light on possibly reversing the mental disorder afflicting the "Big Sisters". Alexander was a good man beneath his mask of science. Perhaps, his conscience had finally caught up to him.

By then, we had reached the back entrance to the Fishbowl Diner. The dented door slid sideways as the automatic opening mechanism was miraculously still functional. I cautiously entered the kitchen area as the danger of not only Splicer attack but also the entire structure collapsing was all too real. As I moved into the kitchen, suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls on the roof above me filled the still air as dust rained down from the ceiling. I remained wary of the threat as I continued further into the groaning structure.

I was struck by the lack of Splicer ransacking in the kitchen. In fact, the two clean, white refrigeration units along the right wall of the humbly small kitchen were still closed and latched. The deep fryers in the center of the space had long-since ceased to cook meals for the hungry customers in the old-fashioned booth and stool-style eating area that was visible through the open space along the wall in front of me. Along the left wall, I saw sealed cans of fruit, vegetables, and meat that were seemingly undisturbed despite being out in the open.

A surreal feeling entered my psyche as I also noticed the undisturbed blue and white coffee thermos that was still where it had been placed on the counter awaiting a customer that would never come. There was a solemn atmosphere in the diner that had seemingly become a time capsule when the proprietors had abandoned the establishment in place. The Splicers of The Drop must have remembered eating here back before they went mad and now considered this place to be either sacred or perhaps even cursed due to its connection to their seemingly ancient past.

I mentally shivered as I made my way into the main area of the diner. I just wanted to search for the code to the clinic lock and then get out of the unsettling interior of the diner as quickly as possible. The dark, eerie eating area was silent except for the thundering report of my boots that echoed through the entire structure. Alpha was close behind me as we began to search for the code amongst the empty booths and bar stools. The cash register was securely locked where it was on its back on the dirty white tile of the floor in front of the counter.

As I searched, I realized that my earlier observation that the panes of glass were missing in the window frames was false. I looked towards the far wall beyond the counter and saw the remains of what had once been a man. As I moved closer, I saw a blood-covered double barreled shotgun to the left of the body and a full EVE Hypo near its right arm. The man's wounds and the amount of blood suggested that he had died fighting but I could not be certain. Nearby, I saw a newspaper that had four red numbers inside of a circle handwritten on the surface of the visible page. The numbers were zero, zero, four, and seven. Above the numbers but still inside the circle was the word "Clinic".

I grunted to my companion, "Right as always, kid."

Before she could reply, my built-in shortwave radio activated. The female voice that came through was faint but there was no mistaking the fatigued tone of the holocaust survivor as she asked me, "Hello, can you hear me, Herr Delta?"

Shocked, I let out an affirming grunt in response. Tenenbaum addressed me with the barest traces of hope and gratitude in her accented voice, "Sofia Lamb is making communication difficult. The girl that you rescued is with me now. She tells me that Herr Alpha survives and is with you. This is good. I am in need of your help."

After a moment, she explained, "ADAM ravages both mind and body like a benign cancer. Its predatory nature corrupts all that are exposed to it. The Plasmid that I developed for my Little Ones is promising but limited to them alone. The body of a Splicer or Big Daddy rejects its effects. Undesirable. However, with your help, I believe that I will be able to reverse the process."

To say that I was stunned would be an understatement. Until that moment, I had considered my condition to be permanent. I knew perfectly well that the amount of ADAM inside my body would be too much to maintain once my job was done. The idea of returning to the surface with my beloved Eleanor suddenly seemed to be within the realm of possibility. If anyone could actually reverse the deteriorating effects of ADAM, it was Tenenbaum. At times, she struck me as being out-of-place in our world as she performed seemingly miraculous feats of science as if they were mere child's play.

The scientist continued, "Lamb's followers and agents control the city. Nothing escapes her watchful eye. However, Lamb…she is obsessed with your return, Herr Delta. Even now, her watch over the city is weakened. I need you and Herr Alpha to cause as much chaos as you can so that Herr Sigma can retrieve what I need from Minerva's Den without outside interference from Lamb."

Subject Sigma was alive? A wave of hope and optimism rolled through me. Though Sigma had never officially been a Protector due to not being bonded to a Little Sister, he was still one of us. However, from what I had seen in the Plasmid Theater at Fontaine Futuristics, what Sigma lacked in having Protector Instincts, he made up for in raw will power as he absorbed seemingly mortal wounds without going down.

Minerva's Den? I idly wondered if Sigma remembered his former life and his connection to Minerva's Den. The process of turning an individual into an Alpha Series Big Daddy took a huge toll. It would not surprise me if Sigma had forgotten who he had been before his betrayal. I had thought that The Den had been cut off from the rest of Rapture while I had still been alive. Regardless, I had faith in my brother and Tenenbaum. If they needed us to weave a path of death and destruction to distract Sofia from their activities, then I was happy to oblige.

My built-in radio deactivated as it lost Tenenbaum's signal. Alpha inquired, "What is going on, sir?"

I turned to face him where he was over by the boarded up main entrance and then explained, "Subject Sigma is still alive and is helping Tenenbaum find a way to reverse the effects of ADAM. She wants us to cause enough chaos for Sofia to be distracted from their activities at Minerva's Den."

My brother was silent for a moment before he asked with the distinct sound of renewed hope, "Reverse…sir?"

I grunted in response, "That's what Tenenbaum said."

Again, my brother was silent for a moment. Meanwhile, Eleanor said with her beautiful voice that was filled with excitement, "Daddy…if she reverses the effects on you…we…we…and…and…my sisters…Papa Alpha…Sigma…we could all escape and say goodbye to Rapture forever. Daddy, we could be together on the surface…you would be…we would be…"

I smiled beneath my emotionless face before I grunted, "I know."

Alpha finally asked, "What about Rapture, sir?"

Before I could reply, my radio activated and Sinclair addressed us, "Reversin' the effects of ADAM…Jim Dandy! This partnership is provin' to be a bigger windfall than I could have imagined. Ol' Tenenbaum makes a way to cure the effects of ADAM, and we sell the products of Rapture to the world while holdin' onto the cure…think of it…profit coming, profit going, kid."

My radio deactivated. Sinclair was not wrong. If we did indeed sell the miracle products of Rapture to the world while maintaining a monopoly over the cure for their effects, the profits that we would make would make us billionaires many times over.

"What about Rapture, sir?" My brother's question riled me from my thoughts. It took me a moment to remember that this decaying metropolis had been his home for nearly ten years. Even I felt a strange, morbid attachment to Rapture. Men and women had worshiped her and what she stood for even as their lives were torn asunder around them. Rapture had been meant to be the salvation of mankind from itself as it marched to its own self-destruction in the first and second World Wars.

There was once a dream that was Rapture. However, the dream had become a nightmare. It was time for us to wake up and put an end to the madness. However, in a way, perhaps Rapture could still be the salvation of mankind. I replied, "Rapture is dead, my brother. It is time to put an end to this madness. We finish this now or this place will be our tomb. Are you with me?"

Alpha moved to stand before me and then extended his free left hand. I smiled beneath my face as I extended my own left hand and shook his. As we forged our bond, my brother pledged, "Until the end, sir."

As we exited the diner through the rear entrance, The Drop's Public Broadcast System activated as Grace taunted me, "Eleanor's grown now, Baby Snatcher. Even after what you did to her, Doctor Lamb found a way to shape that girl into something perfect, somethin' holy. She's a daughter to us all. Nobody in Rapture will shelter you now!"

As if I needed reassurance, Sinclair informed me through my built-in radio, "Gracie's got the wrong idea…you're not responsible for turnin' Eleanor into a Little Sister. Big Daddies are just slaves…and you only recently broke free."

Eleanor giggled darkly from where she was riding on her throne for a moment before she asked me, "Mmm…has Papa broken free from his servitude?" I let out a rumbling laugh in the form of repeated grunts in response.

Alpha wondered aloud, "I am curious as to how they think you turned Miss Eleanor into a Little Sister."

Before I could say anything, my charge taunted me with a dark voice that was alien to her tiny host, "Yes, Papa…did you corrupt your little Eleanor by thrusting your warm…throbbing…slug…into me until it released its gooey substance deep inside my little belly while I took it like a good little girl? Mmm…it feels so big inside of me…I can feel its heartbeat and when it pushes against the walls of my little tight channel."

I halted in mid-stride as I grunted bluntly, "Eleanor!"

My master whined, "Don't be a prude, Daddy. I want to carry your baby."

Before I could say anything, she continued, "Please Daddy? Don't you want to have me at your side on the surface with my little belly swollen with your child kicking inside of me?"

Her question elicited a feeling of longing in me as the mental image of Eleanor and I standing together on the surface with my normal-looking bare left hand caressing her swollen abdomen as she pressed it against her with her pale hand. As she snuggled her form into me, she smiled up at me. I smiled back as I felt our child kick inside her.

No! Foolish old man! Do you really think that you deserve a family after everything that you have done? You are a monster! A killer of men!

Not wanting to upset my daughter, I grunted in response with my Alpha Series voice, "Eleanor, if I make it out of this place alive, I am yours as long as you wish to have me."

My charge asked with concern in her voice, "What do you mean by if you survive, Daddy?"

I mentally sighed. I knew that my beautiful master still saw me as some invincible, larger-than-life walking tank but, in a way, Sofia had been correct when she had said that my day was done. My design was obsolete and had been so for many years. Even with ADAM and mechanical upgrades, I was still only an Alpha Series Big Daddy. I was now facing predators that had evolved to be able to take down Protectors that were far more armored and powerful than I was.

I felt a little like the infamous German Panzer VI Version H "Tiger I" Heavy Tank. When the 55 ton behemoth was first introduced in 1942, it was the most powerful mobile weapon platform that had ever been fielded in the history of warfare. With its deadly, reliable, and accurate 88mm Kwk 36 L/56 main cannon, which was the mobile version of the infamous "Flak 88" anti-armor and anti-aircraft gun, and its two MG 34 machine guns, the Tiger I was the proverbial death incarnate for any Allied tank or foot soldier that dared to challenge her in combat. With her 100mm frontal armor, 80mm side plates, and her rear 80mm armor, the Tiger 1 was nearly immune from the 75mm gun of the American M4 Sherman if properly angled by her crew.

The Tiger I was meant to be a breakthrough armored vehicle that would be the "miracle" weapon that Germany needed to ensure battlefield supremacy over the Allies. More specifically, the Tiger I was Germany's answer for the legendary Soviet T-34 and KV-1 tanks that had proven to be superior to the Panzers already in service. However, by the time that she could finally be fielded, the situation had changed dramatically against the Germans, who had found themselves on the defensive rather than the offensive.

Faced with impossible odds on fronts in both the East and the West, the Tiger I's and their crews steeled themselves and fought a futile war that would cost most of them their lives. The Tiger I's own 55 ton frame became her own worst enemy as German supplies became increasingly critical. Designed as a breakthrough offensive weapon, she was resigned to a chaotic defensive war that taxed her already strained transmission, suspension, and engine beyond their mechanical limits. Breakdowns were common but, overall, the Tigers were still mechanically reliable despite being used in ways that they had never been intended.

Though few in number, only a little more than a thousand had been produced by the end of 1944, and constantly hindered by fuel consumption and maintenance, the Tiger I's were still a nightmare for all who were unfortunate enough to encounter them in combat. I was never in the European Theater myself, but I had friends who were and the stories that they would tell about the Tigers were enough to send a shiver down my spine. I remembered a story about a Tiger commander by the name of Staudegger. They said that on July 7, 1943, a massive Soviet tank column of fifty T-34 tanks came across a lone Tiger I that was defending Psyolknee during the Battle of Kursk.

Outnumbered, Staudegger and his Tiger I, which was reported to have just been repaired hence why she was the only Tiger in the area, held their ground with her thick front angled forty degrees to the incoming Soviets to maximize the protection of her armor.

The lone Tiger I expended her entire ammunition supply of ninety-two shells and succeeded in destroying twenty-two of the T-34's without being put out of action herself. The remaining Soviet tanks retreated, allowing Staudegger and his Tiger I a window of opportunity to withdraw for resupply and repairs.

How much of that story was true and how much of it was merely an exaggeration on the German's part to boost their soldiers' morale, I did not know. However, I did know that Staudegger did exist, he was a Tiger tank commander, and that he was awarded the Knight's Cross for his reported actions on that day. Unlike a great majority of the German Tiger commanders, he also survived the war and was even spared from the Allied witch hunt of German officers that followed.

However, despite successes like Staudegger's and a reported kill ratio of more than ten-to-one, the days of the Tiger 1 were numbered by 1944. Allied tactics had adapted to handle their presence on the battlefield as they learned the Tiger I's faults. The introduction of high-velocity anti-tank guns such as the British 17-pounder and the "Tiger-killers" such as the grossly overpowered Soviet IS-2 Heavy Tank armed with its 122mm cannon rendered her once invincible armor as more of a liability than an asset. Even the infamous Tiger I Ace Michael Wittman, the "Black Baron", was unable to escape his fate and was cut down along with his Tiger in 1944 when he led a counter-attack in the place of another commander who he believed to be "too inexperienced" to lead the charge.

Effectively rendered "obsolete" by the Allies, abandoned in favor of the new Tiger II's by her own crews in late 1944, with the critically low level of German resources further reducing her combat effectiveness, and with the unstoppable industrial juggernaut of the Allied Armies closing in for the kill, the few remaining Tiger I's defiantly fought on until the very end of the war. Of the little more than a thousand produced, only a handful survived by the fall of Nazi Germany in 1945.

The Tiger I was similar to myself and my brethren. We had also been cast aside in favor of "bigger and better" designs and left to fight on ultimately in vain against hordes of "lesser" threats in the form of the average Splicer. Now, as the Tiger I's had near the end of the war, I was facing off against enemies that had adapted to be able to kill me in the form of the Big Sisters on top of the hordes of lesser Thuggish, Leadhead, Spider, and Houdini Splicers. Not to mention the lumbering drones of the Mass Production Models that now posed a more significant threat than they had in my own time ten years prior.

I smirked as I thought, 'This obsolete Tiger I is not going down without a fight…even if I have to take the rest of Rapture with me, I will get Eleanor and all the other captives of Sofia to the surface. As I am sure you know Sofia…there is nothing more dangerous than a dying animal.'

Not wanting to upset Eleanor, I grunted as I started to make my way back to the Clinic, "Nothing, kid. Just…let's not get ahead of ourselves alright? We still have a lot of work to do before we can start to think about the surface."

My master replied, "Oh, you're right, Daddy. I am getting ahead of myself. Sorry, I am just so excited right now. I have been dreaming about this day for so long…just to have you back is more than I ever dared to wish for. Even if we die trying to escape, it will have been worth it just to have been with you again." I smiled beneath my emotionless copper face in response but remained silent.

As we reached the bottom of the left staircase, Eleanor added, "One thing though Daddy…if you EVER look at another girl…I promise that I will kill her and wear her skin like a suit." She giggled with delight before she finished, "Then, you can look at the WHORE all you want to."

'Oh fuck, she is one of those girls!'

I felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of my neck as I suddenly felt ice cold. Hiding my fear, I assured my master, "Trust me, Eleanor…that will not be a problem. I'm yours...remember?"

She giggled before she said, "I know Johnny…and I trust you. I just don't trust the little whores that will try to take you away from me."

We were nearing the courtyard by that time. The sound of falling water filled the air from the waterfall impacting the collapsed Atlantic Express train car in the middle of the courtyard. I mentally cursed as the constant noise prevented me from being able to hear any potential sounds of hidden Splicers. I halted as I reached the red-lit corner just before the courtyard.

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister riding on my back sniffed the air for a moment before she let out a quiet whine of fright. She informed me, "Ssshhh…Daddy…bad people." There were Splicers lying in wait for us and the little girl had smelled the ADAM in their bodies. Walking out into the open was inviting death. We needed to draw out our hidden assailants if we wanted a chance to get to the Clinic in one piece.

Beside me, Alpha remarked, "Leave it to me, sir." Before I could reply, he raised his left hand and pointed it in the general direction of the open space before us between the strange structure similar to the one near the Fishbowl Diner, the King Pawn building in the far right corner, and the tenant building to our immediate right. Before my eyes, a perfect replica of Alpha appeared out of thin air standing out in the open and holding his modified Prototype Rivet Gun down at his side.

Almost instantly, a hail of gunfire erupted from the surrounding buildings as the resident Splicers fired their crudely repaired and modified revolvers and Thompson Submachine Guns at the projected decoy. Naturally, regular, non-magnesium phosphorus coated bullets are invisible to the naked eye when they are flying through the air due to the supersonic speeds at which they are traveling. However, the "flash", the bright cloud of light that erupted out of the end of a firearm's barrel as the gases propelled the projectile downrange, was easily visible even in low visibility environments.

I counted eight individual flashes in the buildings surrounding the courtyard. Three were in the partially demolished upper floor of the building on the far left. The characteristics of the reports of their weapons indicated that one was wielding a revolver while the other two were wielding modified Thompsons chambered for .50 BMG rounds. One flash was coming from the second floor of the Clinic from the hole in the side of the building where a gangplank connected it to the King Pawn building. Its report indicated that it was a revolver. The remaining four flashes were coming from the roof of the Clinic underneath the overhead section of bent railroad track. The reports indicated that they were all wielding modified Thompsons.

Before the Splicers could realize that they were being tricked, Alpha took aim with his Rivet Gun and fired upon them. Again, I marveled at my brother's marksmanship with the repurposed industrial tool. He did not waste a single rivet as he demonstrated the lethal trigger control discipline and pin-point accuracy that had taken him ten years of hellish fighting for daily survival to achieve.

First, he took aim at the Splicer inside the clinic and fired a single rivet through the opening in the wall. The report of the revolver ceased and he directed his attention to the Splicers on the roof. He fired four rivets in quick succession and succeeded in neutralizing the Leadhead Splicers. The courtyard feel silent as the decoy vanished and the remaining Splicers retreated into the buildings.

They would not fall for the trick again but the tactic had cleared out some of the Splicers. It was now safe enough for us to enter the courtyard at least. As I moved away from the corner and towards the clinic door, Eleanor chirped, "Look Daddy, an angel." I followed the firefly-like tendril of light and saw the contorted body of a male Splicer between where I was and the far left building.

The corpse was just before where the train car had penetrated the concrete slab of the "floor" in the center of the courtyard and continued down into the underlying layer of pipe networks. A discarded bicycle was off to the left of the body though I was unable to discern if it had belonged to the poor man. My gut told me that it was unlikely that the man had been riding it at the time of his demise because the thick layer of bloodied, white bandages wrapped around his lumpy head would have made it very difficult for the man to properly operate the bicycle.

I mentally sighed. I hated to turn people's addictions against them as if I was some immoral businessman, but I did recognize the opportunity to draw out even more of the Splicers from the buildings. A gathering session in the middle of the courtyard would bring them scouring out of their holes and into our deathtrap like moths to a flame. Besides, the Little Sister was most likely exhausted but was politely remaining silent because she wanted her "Big Sister" to have some more fun with her Daddy.

As I moved towards the corpse, Alpha switched ammunition types and then began to set up a defensive line of Trap Rivets on the strange structure nearby by placing a vertical line of rivets in the corners of the structure to cover the left and right path to the corpse. The pool of water around the train car would provide a lethal environmental trap for any Splicers that managed to get through Alpha's Trap Rivets along the left side of the structure.

Upon reaching the body, Eleanor asked with her edged Little Sister voice, "Right here, see it glow?" I bent down onto my right knee and she lowered herself down onto the wet concrete floor beneath us. In her typical, innocent manner, the little girl excitedly danced next to the corpse as she pointed towards it with her tiny left hand.

She beamed up at me as she tried to say something to me. However, her childish voice was drowned out by the sudden torrent of music that piped through the Public Broadcast System of The Drop. Seconds later, Grace addressed the Splicers, "Family! That monster has taken another one of our children for his own! Tin Daddy is hollow like a jail cell that needs filling and he will never let her go unless you hunt him down!"

As my charge inserted the needle of her gathering tool into the corpse, I felt the molten hot fury of my Protector Instincts blitzing into my mind as the monster inside of me demanded to be released from his cage once more. The area before me was bathed in red light as my golden yellow eye changed into its hellish red. I let out a deafening guttural roar as the first small-caliber round impacted my right shoulder.

Agony swept through me as more rounds impacted my frame and penetrated the less armored canvas sections of my suit. As the red fluid in my First Aid Reserve Tank repaired the damage, I swiveled to my right to exact my revenge on my assailants. There, I saw a male business suit-clad Leadhead Splicer armed with a revolver, a disfigured female Leadhead Splicer armed with a pump action ornate shotgun, a male working class Thuggish Splicer armed with a section of lead pipe, and a female Thuggish Splicer that was clad in what remained of a middle-class dress and wielding a rusted red pipe wrench. In my limited peripheral vision, I saw two more Thuggish Splicers jumping down from the roof of the King Pawn building. Music continued to play through The Drop's Public Broadcast System as the deranged addicts desperately rushed towards us to get to the Little Sister.

Meanwhile, I heard a man yell from inside the Clinic with a voice that had an air of self-righteous superiority, "Stupid! Fucking! Clods! That's what the Metal Daddies want! Shit!" However, his cried fell on deaf ears. The cannon fodder Thuggish Splicers mindlessly rushed straight into the Trap Rivets on both sides of the strange structure. The rounds fired their secondary projectiles into the unarmored flesh of the denizens as they attempted to rush through the beams of light.

In the space of three seconds, the Thuggish Splicers had been cut down by the Trap Rivets, but, in doing so, had cleared the paths to our charge for the remaining Splicers. As the remaining Leadhead Splicers encircled us as if they were sharks closing in on a wounded whale, I heard Eleanor reciting a poem with her Little Sister voice.

"Roses are red…"

I blasted the Leadhead Splicer wielding the pump action shotgun with a shot of Electro Bolt and then rushed forward. As the blue electric arcs danced around the woman's frame, I thrust the razor sharp point of my heavy-duty drill straight into her forehead. The sound of cracking bone filled the air as her face seemed to deflate from the force of my blow. The ornate shotgun fell to the cracked concrete floor beneath us before the corpse crumpled into a heap next to it.

"…Violets are blue…"

The high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air as he fired a smoldering rivet into the male Leadhead Splicer's skull. The ADAM in the man's system allowed him to survive the otherwise fatal blow but, as he staggered away, my brother fired a second rivet into the back of his neck where his spinal cord and skull met. The Splicer was dead before he hit the harsh concrete floor.

"…Daddy's MINE..."

"…NOT for you…"

A female Thuggish Splicer jumped down from the partially demolished building behind us. Alpha started to turn to eliminate her but stopped as he was suddenly hit by a RPG that had been fired by a woman that had appeared above us on the third floor gangplank between the Clinic and the King Pawn buildings wielding a makeshift launcher. Luckily, as with the crudely manufactured launcher, which was made out of thin sheet metal and a wooden handle, the soup can grenade was more flash and sound than it was dangerous and, thus, my heavily armored and spliced brother easily weathered the explosion.

"…If, by chance, you are a WHORE that forgets your place…"

I revved up my drill and then Drill Dashed into the charging Thuggish Splicer as she neared my beautiful master. The sound of metal and flesh colliding filled the air as the brutal collision shattered the woman as if she made out of glass. I sneered with satisfaction as the mangled corpse flew backwards before it smashed against the hull of the train car.

'Weak…so weak…you disgusting pieces of trash are hardly worth my time.'

"…I will take my fist and smash your face…"

"…You deserve it for being naughty…"

The Splicer fired another grenade at my brother but he caught it in the air before him with Telekinesis. As his left gauntlet-encased hand was surrounded by the clear miasma, he levitated the primed explosive before him for a moment and then launched it back at the Splicer with a flick of his wrist. The explosive flew towards the denizen and detonated against her. The resulting explosion shredded the Splicer and showered the area with her bloody remains.

"…I will KILL YOU and consume the blood from your still warm body."

As she finished her poem, she stood and then inserted the needle of her gathering tool into my tree trunk-like left leg. I let out a low, rumbling roar as I felt the wonderful sensation of fresh ADAM flow through my body. The warm, empowering feeling was second only to the sensation of being near my beautiful master in terms of pleasure and satisfaction. With each drop that entered my body, I could feel myself becoming less of the human man that I had once been and more like the beautiful goddess that I now swore my entire being to protect and keep happy.

With our gathering session complete, calm was restored to the area. I felt the artificial fury of my Protector Instincts recede into the farthest reaches of my mind while the area before me was once again bathed in golden yellow light as my segmented eye changed its bioluminescent display back to its default "mood". I had not seen my true, human eyes in so long that I could not remember what color they were. In fact, I could not even remember what my human face looked like. The emotionless copper and glass of my armored diving helmet were my face and eye now. They had to be. Monsters did not fear Johnny Topside. However, they did fear Subject Delta.

Eleanor smiled brightly up at me for a moment before she turned to look at Alpha when he approached us. She motioned towards him with her gathering tool to offer him the remainder of its reservoir's contents. However, he shook his free left hand at her as he grunted, "Much obliged, but I have enough ADAM in my system already, Miss Eleanor."

My master turned back to me and smiled contently before she informed me with a tired tone, "I'm ready for dream time, Daddy." I smiled slightly beneath my face and bent down onto my right knee to allow her to climb up onto her throne. She giggled in a distant manner as she moved towards me as fast as her fatigued limbs could carry her. After a moment of shuffling and letting out grunts of exertion, she tapped the top of my head with her tiny left fist.

She giggled and then ordered, "Take me home, my brave knight." I laughed with a rumbling groan as I stood back upright. Confident that we had struck a devastating blow to the Splicers in the buildings, I turned my back to them and began to make my way towards the Little Sister Vent at the base of the stairs to our right that led up to the area surrounding the Fishbowl Diner. The long-winded moan of a wandering Rosie Mass Production Model vibrated through the air from somewhere else in The Drop as I neared the vent.

Upon reaching the vent, I noticed for the first time that there was a Crème-Filled Cake resting on the right side of its round, projecting base. Another offering for the Little Sisters? I had to hand it to Sofia, she certainly had the poor, broken denizens of Rapture under her spell. What was she doing with all the ADAM that the new Little Sisters were gathering?

A sudden, chilling thought occurred to me. Eleanor. No, Sofia was not that reckless. Surely, she was not pumping Eleanor full of ADAM. As my master had informed me, the slug implanted inside of her was still alive and, if anything, its ADAM-producing capacity had only increased since I had been killed. Eleanor was already absorbing massive amounts of ADAM from the slug. If Sofia was adding to it, then she was more deranged than I could have ever imagined.

The being that Eleanor would become if I did not stop Sofia in time would either be the salvation of mankind or the harbinger of its extinction. She would be immortal due to the slug and would be incalculably powerful because of all the ADAM. Big Daddies like Subject Alpha, Sigma, and myself would be nothing more than specks of dirt compared to her. Even the new Big Sisters would be nothing more than footnotes compared to Eleanor.

I cast the idea aside. No. Sofia was not that foolish. She was definitely planning something else. After all, she had to be aware of the, now hardwired, homicidal rage that Eleanor felt for her that had first stemmed from the mistreatment that had she endured as a child and then was forever cemented as rage when Sofia murdered me in cold blood right in front of her. There was no way that the psychiatrist believed that Eleanor would not hesitate to return the favor if ever she was given the opportunity.

"Hidey Hole…"

The edged voice of my charge tore me from my thoughts. With the Little Sister Exorcism Plasmid ready, I bent down onto my right knee once more. The Little Sister dismounted and I stood back up. As I turned to face her, I saw that the telltale sign of Eleanor in her glowing yellow eyes was gone. The trusting child glanced from me to the vent and then back at me. She flashed me a confused expression and then asked, "Pa-Papa? I-I was a g-good girl. Did I make you mad?"

I cringed slightly as I felt my heart tighten painfully. This Little Sister was afraid of me just as the first one had been. If they were suspicious of their loyal protectors, I could only imagine the torment that afflicted their young minds. Tenenbaum was right, we had to end the Rapture Nightmare before its evil spread to contaminate the entire world in a never-ending cycle of ADAM-addiction and evolution.

That was why Tenenbaum had called upon those of us in the Alpha Series to end the nightmare. She knew something that Sofia and the rest of what remained of Rapture would not learn until it was too late. I smirked darkly as I envisioned Staudegger and his Tiger I devastating the Goliath-like force of Soviet T-34s with her powerful and accurate 88mm main gun as shells mercilessly pounded her armored hide. Sofia would be the last person to learn that there was nothing more vicious than the underdog.

I grunted reassuringly as I gently placed my glowing left hand on top of her head. The young girl moaned as the Plasmid caused her veins to become visible beneath her pale skin as they glowed with white light. Moments later, a white flash overtook my vision. When it returned, I saw the "rescued" Little Sister smiling up at me with a look of happiness in her normal brown eyes.

I offered her my free gauntlet-encased left hand to help her into the vent. Leaving her gathering tool on the ground, the child accepted my offer and I carefully picked her up underneath her right shoulder. The ex-Little Sister giggled as if we were playing a game as I lifted her up to the opening of the flower-shaped vent. Then, without a word, the little girl disappeared into the safety of the Ventilation Network.

The familiar feeling of surreal bliss filled my entire being as my vision was overtaken by the sight of my grown master in her adult-sized white dress. Eleanor smiled slightly before she informed me, "She says thank you, Father." The dark brown-haired goddess moved closer until she was only a few inches away from me. Then, she added, "You should see Mother's face right now…" I became uncomfortable as she pressed her left shoulder into my chest and raised her head up to look at me with her deep blue eyes as she leaned in until her face was only inches away my own.

I knew that what was happening was not real, but I still could have sworn that I felt the heat given off by her ADAM-enhanced frame. My body betrayed me as my arms instinctively wrapped around my grown charge to hold her close. I berated myself as my hands moved along her body and I discovered, with primal excitement, that the white dress that she wore had been very effective at concealing how well developed and feminine Eleanor's body was.

However, along with her sensual femininity, I also felt the formidable strength and power that her toned frame possessed. I felt a bead of sweat run down my neck when she moved in response to my hold and I felt her muscles tighten and flex beneath my hands. I realized that, without question, she already possessed physical strength that rivaled my own despite her much thinner and innocent appearance. The notion that she needed me to be her Big Daddy Protector was instantly dispelled upon the revelation of the extent of her strength.

However, I still turned my head away when Eleanor tried to kiss me. Intense guilt flooded my mind as I sensed the hurt that she felt. When I looked back, her captivating eyes were shinning as if she was about to cry. My master pleaded, "You promised that you would try…please."

I cringed as it felt as if a molten hot piece of metal was suddenly thrust into my skull. My Big Daddy Programming sought to prevent the taboo act of affection while my genuine feelings for Eleanor sought to comfort her. Mustering all of my willpower, I fought against the conditioning forced upon me by Fontaine's butchers. It was easily the most challenging foe that I had ever encountered but I finally managed to suppress the interfering mental programming enough to regain control over my body.

Sensing the torment that I was willing to go through for her, Eleanor began to cry happily as we both leaned in and then kissed each other. In the brief second that her soft lips connected with mine, my mind was bombarded by the intense onrush of sights and sounds from her memories as I felt the true extent of her feelings for me. I had been so clueless that it was almost sadistically comical.

Then, just as quickly as it overtook me, the feeling of surreal bliss was gone and I was back standing before the Little Sister Vent. However, not before I heard Eleanor say happily, "Thank you…I love you, Father." I grunted aloud in my Alpha Series voice, "I love you too Eleanor."

I turned and saw that Alpha was patiently waiting off to my left. He informed me, "Emily and I...we couldn't help it...just happened...only thing that has kept me going all these years…given me something to fight for…if that makes me a monster, so be it. I could have just left…I have not been physically tied to Emily since they turned her into a Big Sister…but...she's all I have left. I am not leaving Rapture without her, sir."

I assured him, "We'll get them out...all of them."

He was silent for a moment and then he remarked with a humorous tone, "At least the egghead is still alive."

I smiled slightly as I realized that he was referring to Sigma. I grunted in response, "Maybe there are others."

I began to move towards the Clinic. Behind me, Alpha commented, "Maybe…" My earlier suspicions were confirmed as we were unopposed by Splicers as we moved out into the open. I made it to the locked Clinic entrance and entered the code that we had found in the diner. Giving off a slight dinging noise, the vandalized doors opened and I began to make my way into the building.