There was no rest for the wicked, O'Leary supposed.
Reports of UFOs near the location of XCOM's base were starting to pile up, which sent a mild feeling of unease into her gut. She was left staring at the display, watching, waiting. She'd fought this war with everything she'd had, everything they'd given her. But if they knew where XCOM was... there was no telling what they were going to throw at them.
She narrowed her eyes, sensing her second in command approach her. "Status on the interceptors."
"—it'll be a while still," Bradford managed. "The engineering team has the resources, at this point it's a question of time."
O'Leary nodded, but... the unease wouldn't go away. If anything, it was growing. "How about the soldiers?"
"We're... still recovering after the losses on the last op," he proceeded carefully, "but we've been getting some new recruits sent in. Granted, after a while of petitioning."
She scoffed. "Hope the Council of Nations knows that it's their asses on the line with how they treat me. With how they treat us. Something's better than nothing, I suppose. Anything else to report?"
"Vahlen's making progress with the most recent interrogation, and is starting progress on Project Geist. We've got the volunteer for it and he's undergoing treatment. As for Shen—"
The base shuddered and the lights flickered, the personnel on the floor diving for support. The Commander looked up, snarling. "They're here." They'd undoubtedly be going for her. Her first instinct was self-preservation—this XCOM operation couldn't go on without her. She was the best shot they had in keeping them off the planet. But... she turned her head to Bradford. He was already waiting for any sort of order. She could throw him to the wolves as she had many others, all in the name of keeping this war alive for a few months more.
But why? It was clear they were hopelessly outgunned. The most that mounting a defense here would do would be buying her maybe a few more minutes to escape, and for what? Could she honestly rebuild after they had taken their base of operations out? Why was she even alive, anymore? She knew she had been living on borrowed time from the word go. The things she had done to give them a fighting chance, the things she had done to the soldiers under her...
"Commander...?" Bradford was still looking for an answer.
O'Leary took her revolver off of her belt, making sure all the chambers were full. "—evacuate. It's me they want. They'll kill all of you in search of me, so you might as well go. This... was a long time coming."
"Commander!" Bradford grabbed her by the shoulder—granted, almost immediately letting go, hands shaking as she glared at him. "We're not leaving you here, if you're gone—!"
"That's an order." O'Leary sweeped her eyes over all the staff. "I want all of you to retreat. Get out of here, defend yourselves. Or stay and die in the crossfire. XCOM as you know it is coming to an end." Bradford tried to interrupt her, but her voice was steadfast, unbreakable. "There is no salvation to be found fighting and dying here. All they want is me." She closed her eyes. "Don't try to make some 'heroic' last stand. There is nothing heroic left to fight for here. Get out."
Silence—dead silence. Something about that unnerved O'Leary, like... this wasn't how it was supposed to go? She opened her eyes...
... and the command center was empty. There were no signs of life. She looked around again. This... no. This was the part of the memory where they would all begin to take whatever they thought they needed and run. This was the part where Bradford would plead with her one last time to reconsider, and she wouldn't respond at all, making it their last words to each other for twenty years. This was the part where—
"Oh, hello, O'Leary."
Eliza whipped around, her suddenly-present braid flying as she did. It... it was that thing, behind her. Freakishly tall, four arms, blue skin—her as a Chosen, she could only surmise. She'd encountered the Depthssinger many times in her dreams, and this time was no exception. "—can I get a dream restraining order? You're appearing far too many times to be healthy for either of us."
Kon-Hur's laugh was hissing and almost devoid of air, mocking. "You can't distance me, unfortunately. As this base keeps coming back, as you keep reliving that day, twenty years ago, I'll keep coming back. And I'll keep saying the same thing—"
"Have more sense," Eliza decided to interject. "We've both seen what happened to the other Chosen under the Elders. I don't know how many times I have to keep telling you to not come at me with that 'rejoining Them' bull."
"But it wouldn't be Them tending to you," she countered, slowly sauntering past Eliza. "It would be Arg—"
"That's worse," Eliza hissed. "I'd faster kill myself, thanks. At least the Trio are outwardly reprehensible. They're..."
"Ah, ah." Kon-Hur waggled a finger at her. "There it is. You don't actually know where you stand with Argus, now, do you? You just think you hate Them. Tell me, what have They done to you?"
"They were going to turn me into—"
"Yes, yes, I know," she said, taking her turn on the interrupting gig and waving it off with a hand. "Me. But have you ever used your stunning intellect to think of what else could've happened, Eliza? Do you honestly think the Trio needed your body? So long as you had a physical brain, well, They could cut out everything else, couldn't They? They have the technology to keep Themselves on life support for this long. Reducing a human to their brain and keeping that sustained for a network would be nothing to Them. Did you ever stop to consider that Argus saved you from that fate?"
Eliza took a step back. "I am giving you three seconds to halt this discussion. I'll wake up eventually, that's a matter of fact."
"And inevitably, you're on your back right now, and I'd follow you into sleep paralysis." The Siren grinned, teeth razor sharp. "You know it's the truth. Argus loves you. And that's why you're here today. They kept you in that body of yours—and was even planning to give you a better one! For all this talk of love, all this talk of making it work between everyone else... where's the love for the Ethereal that saved your life? You have feelings for Them. Don't deny it."
"I am denying it!" Eliza stepped forward, psionics flaring. She wanted nothing to do with this conversation. This was just some figment of her subconscious thinking it had a bead on her. She could take the incursion from the aliens happening right now, she would take the Thin Man jumping on her over this. "Say one more word and god help me I am using these psionics of mine to snap your goddamn neck."
"Oh, how symbolic." The Siren turned to fully face her, spreading her arms out. "Try me."
Eliza didn't need to be asked twice. She leapt forward—
"Come, the dawn approaches for us all,
Leading us into the house of eternity.
Lay down your arms and walk with me.
Lay down your arms and walk with me."
At the Siren's singing in ADVENT, Eliza tripped over her own feet, and when she hit the floor... she felt her body haltingly reach for her gun, shakily tossing it to the side. What was she doing? Was... was the Siren...?
"—that's what you have," the Siren softly spoke. "That's what you could have more of. The power to make all of this stop. You could end this all peacefully. They would accept you back with open arms, and you could use your empathy to make them see, to make them come to terms with XCOM. You could end all this, Eliza. You just have to go back."
With that power, with that notion... maybe...
No. We can't go back. I don't ever want to go back...
Eliza... didn't know who that voice belonged to. But it sent strength into her spine, and she staggered to her feet. "... you know that's not how that will go," she muttered, her fighting spirit sapped with Kon-Hur's song. "Even if Argus is the only good Elder... they're surrounded by far worse Ethereals, and they can only be surviving now by going along with everyone else. We can convince Argus. We... we can't convince the Collective," she pushed, a deep, deep memory bringing that term to mind.
"Aren't you a paragon of trying? Don't you want to at least try?"
"There's some things we can't come back from twice," the Commander said, bringing her gaze up to the Siren's face. Her grin had dropped, and her expression was more pleading now. "Think about all of the planets the Elders have conquered. I'm not some destined one in the universe—there were other people out there like me. Don't you think they tried? Don't you think they tried to make the Elders see all of that? And what do you think the Elders are going to do after they're done with Earth and have made the Avatars? Do you think a species like that is just going to stop?"
The Siren's eyes softened. "No. But what about Argus? You conceded that They are probably the only good Elder, stuck with the rest. As with some of the aliens, as with the Chosen, don't... don't you think you should try to save Them, too?"
Eliza didn't respond. There were some lines that, once crossed, made someone irredeemable in her eyes, forever. The Siren responded to her thoughts. "But if they were forced? Don't you hold the position that the Chosen were largely forced in what they had to do?" Yes, but... sometimes, scale came into the equation. It was impossible to say how long the Elders had been doing this, and how long Argus had been doing what they were doing. Was it Eliza's place alone to redeem them? "Run Them by the Avenger," she softly urged. "Perhaps, if the Avenger can be convinced..."
There was just one problem with the whole matter. "Let's say that I'm willing. Let's say that I'm willing to give Argus a shot at redemption. How do we go about getting them? How do we save them, Siren?"
The Siren looked away. "I... I don't know."
Eliza sighed, massaging her forehead. "... if. If I ever get the chance, if Argus is ever before me... I'll think about it. In return can you please stop haunting me?"
"I can try, but... you know I'm a part of you." The Siren weakly gestured to her. "You're smart. You know I'm just your repressed feelings for Them. If you deal with those, you deal with me. But... if you promise to try... maybe I'll be quiet for a bit."
She looked at her for a moment. "No promises regarding everything else, though, I'd imagine."
"That's PTSD, Eliza, as much as you deny it. Likely you'll be coming back here until the day you die."
She sighed again. "Fantastic. Great talk. Can I wake up now?"
Kon-Hur shrugged. "Certainly. Just ask Asaru."
Wait. What?
Eliza's eyes shot open, greeting her with the sight of the ceiling in her quarters. Realizing she was on her back, she tried to shoot into a sitting position—and succeeded, thankfully. Eliza took a few seconds to catch her breath. The last few seconds of her dream vanished, and she was left wondering just what had happened right there.
"Eliza?"
Rubbing at her eyes, the Commander looked over to the door. Bradford was there with two mugs of coffee, looking a little concerned. Eliza yawned. "—I'm ok," she responded. "Didn't get too far in the flashback dream before things went off the rails."
"Flashback dream?" Bradford walked in, setting the mugs down on her nightstand and sitting next to her in bed. "... something to talk about?"
Right. Yesterday she'd promised that she would start being more open about her deeply personal problems with him. She sighed, but ultimately nodded. "Yeah. Give me my coffee, I'll begin when I've had a bit of it." Obligingly, Bradford passed her the mug of coffee, and she took a sip at it. Milk and sugar with Bradford's blend that could wake the dead. Just how she liked it. "Right. I can't tell you how many times I've had the same dream, or some variation of it. It's... it's that day. Usually it starts when you came up to tell me none of the interceptors were ready, though it can start earlier."
Bradford grimly nodded, the memory of it assuredly coming back to him. "I rattle off my report, the base shudders, you tell us all to get out." He sighed, leaning in and hesitantly slinging an arm around her shoulders. When Eliza smiled at him, his posture relaxed. "I sometimes wonder if I should've tried harder to get you to leave with us."
Eliza laughed somewhat bitterly. "I don't think I ever would've listened. At that point, I... I was wondering why I was even still alive, anymore. But... that's beside the point. Yeah. I was having that dream. It got to the part with me dismissing everyone, I closed my eyes, and then everyone was gone when I opened them." Dare she describe the Siren? Her sensibilities were decrying the notion, and yet... "—can I say the next few parts with no interruptions?"
"Of course. Say what you need."
Alright. How much was she going to say? Eliza fiddled with her hair with her free hand. "—behind me... behind me was, um. It's hard to explain... I think it's what I would look like as the Siren. What I think I would've looked like had Argus had their way. Every time I see her in my dreams—or one of my sleep paralysis hallucinations—she always tries to convince me of the same thing. 'Go back. It's for the best of everyone. You can cut out a lot of bloodshed.'" Eliza took another steadying sip of coffee. "I argued with her. Told her I'd never go back. Got to the point of trying to kill her, and..." Eliza held a hand to her throat. The power... she'd always subconsciously avoided singing, even humming. "She sang. She sang in ADVENT, and all I wanted to do was toss aside my guns and submit. I... think I've always known I've had that power."
Eliza swallowed, trying to get past a lump in her throat as she wrestled with if she wanted to say the next part or not. But... they were in love with each other, her and Bradford. She could be open with the contents of her dreams, right? "—after that, she posed it again, knowing I'd felt the power of what I could do. What I can do. And... it seemed tempting." She then shook her head. "But even if—even if I'm willing to concede that perhaps one Elder can be convinced out of the rest, what of the others? What of the Collective? There's no way I can do that." Sighing, Eliza took another sip of her coffee. "I got her to back off by saying I would see what I could do if ever I was presented Argus. And you probably know what that sounds like, coming from me."
Bradford looked like he was still waiting for her to go on until she nodded, indicating he could give his thoughts. "—quite frankly, it... sounds crazy, considering what you've told me and the impression of Argus I get from you. Still—though you have a better claim to being a therapist than I—that version of yourself constantly coming back and offering that must mean something, right?" His voice got softer, and thankfully, he didn't seem to be judging Eliza. "Is there... something you're not telling me? It's ok, Eliza. I'll hear you out."
Eliza looked away, lips pressed together. She'd never thought much on Argus—she figured she had them all sorted out. But the Siren offered a far too realistic viewpoint. "—you have to understand," she began quietly, "I didn't think about Argus much, for my own health, I always thought. But a version of myself, always coming back and asking if I could give them another chance? You're not exactly alone in noticing the potentially repressed feelings, there." Eliza ran a hand through her hair. "I've always had one memory of Argus, that much you know. I always thought it was enough to show how much of a bastard they were. But with the Network Severance effect in the equation, there's so much that I could not be remembering. Argus—Argus could be the one good Ethereal forced to work with the rest. Argus could've been trying to ease things for me as much as possible. Because the Siren brought up a good point—you could've found me as a brain in a jar, Bradford. That would've been the most efficient route for the Elders. Yet I'm not. Argus could've saved me from that. I just—I don't know where I stand!"
The Commander hadn't realized it, but tears had been coming to her eyes near the end of that statement. She moved to palm at them, just to find Bradford was already wiping them out of the way, reassuringly kissing her cheek. "Hey. It's ok, Liz. That's natural, considering the circumstances. Hearing what I have now, I'm less concerned about your feelings about it." Before he went on, Eliza put her mug of coffee back on the nightstand, fully hugging him. "There you go... Do you want advice on the matter?" When Eliza nodded, he continued. "What I think is that, if we ever get the chance, we'll take Argus in alive and ask them the questions you want to ask. If you find them wanting, or false, that'll be your call then. We'll give them the chance to plead their case, and all else fails, I'm pretty sure all of the Elders are deserving to die anyway. So we can do something to help those feelings out. Ok?"
She took in a deep breath, calmly letting it go. "Ok. That... that sounds good to me. I guess if they ever get that Avatar thing mildly sorted out, we can upload them into one of those and interrogate them from there." She leaned down a bit to nuzzle into Bradford's neck, taking a moment to just enjoy the position. "—thank you, John. I can always go to you to get my head set straight."
He sought his arms around her back, one of his hands reaching up and running over her hair repeatedly. "I'm with you until and through the end, Eliza. Always will be. I get a little worried for you sometimes, but your heart's always in the right place." He sighed. "I... I both do and don't want to believe there's a good Ethereal out there. I do because it means that maybe one of them is capable of feeling empathy, and I don't because that means they've still been going along with everything that's happened so far. Maybe it's a matter of them not having a choice, of course, but..."
"I understand. I'm really of the same mind about it too." Eliza closed her eyes, just living in the moment. "But I think I've thought it out for the moment, and my answer is this—I'll hear it from the Elder themself."
Bradford nodded. "Good by me." He squeezed her a bit tighter. "—I didn't expect you to be up before your alarm." He moved like he was looking back. "It's more than forty minutes before it's supposed to go off. Do you want to...?"
"Cuddle? Absolutely. Our coffees can wait that long, right?"
He chuckled, parting from her long enough to start kicking off his boots. "Hey, they'll be nice and cool when we get to them. I just wanna take this moment by the horns while it's here."
Eliza grinned at him, moving over a bit more. She was in her usual night attire, which the blankets revealed as she pulled them back to make room for him. "You might as well, and I'm far from complaining. C'mere, John, we've tortured each other long enough."
Bradford laughed again, meeting her on the bed and wrapping his arms around her as they laid down. Many kisses were exchanged, and eventually it got down to Bradford being snuggled against her chest, listening to her heartbeat as she felt her way over his hair. Short, yet soft—and like she'd said back then, salt and pepper suited him. At least, she thought it did.
Eliza leaned down to give his forehead another kiss. "—can I say sorry for dancing around our feelings for so long?"
"You can," he muttered, "but that means I have to apologize, too."
"Well, what was your reason?"
Bradford sighed, readjusting his arms around her. "I... I'm an old-fashioned guy, this much you know. I had a stick up my ass regarding the whole 'falling in love with a superior officer' deal disregarding the fact that we're no longer a formal military outfit. It just... made sense to me, I guess. And I thought what we had was enough for me. We hugged, you've cried on me, I've cried to you, we confided in each other—that felt like it was enough. Whatever we had before, that was love to me."
She warmly chuckled, petting his hair. "I've got a love for my friends, Bradford, so you're right there. I guess I was right there with you in being old fashioned—but I was thinking you couldn't be in love with me thanks to that, not the other way around. I thought that was your reason." She narrowed her eyes, looking at her nightstand. "—and that part about not losing what I had... that really just applies to everyone in this little circle now. I felt like I would be risking something I was already pretty happy with by approaching and asking about a relationship. Like... like they'd look at me differently from then on if they rejected me. I'd be fine if they did, but things would have changed from then. I'm not making much sense, am I?"
"Don't worry, Liz, you're making plenty sense." He patted her back reassuringly. "Natural fear, I suppose, especially since you know I share it. Good that things turned out the way they did, I suppose—and it's not like we're not friends anymore. Probably better that we are, come to think of it; I've had girlfriends in the past that I just didn't share anything with. Can only get by with affection for so long."
"Agreed." Eliza squeezed him in return. "Maybe we should use our days together to catch back up, then. When's the last time I heard you ramble incessantly about sci-fi movies?"
Bradford groaned. "Since the Elders came and turned the Earth into one. I want to say it soured me to the whole genre... and yet..."
Laughing, Eliza patted his head. "There's my John. Trust me, I'm willing to listen regarding anything you wanna share." She paused. "As long as it's not about Dune."
"Honey it is a good movie and you know it."
"We have had this discussion how many times and you haven't changed my mind?"
"One of these days I will and I'll hold it over your head until it stops being funny."
Eliza sighed somewhat dramatically. "I somehow very much believe you. Ah, well, if you want to do a movie night, Wiki's amassed a lot of old movies and 'old' movies. She even had The Day the Earth Stood Still—well, the remake."
Bradford grimaced. "On your behalf, I'm sorry."
"Apologize to Jax too, he had to sit through that with me."
"God. He probably hasn't watched any movies and that's gonna be one of his formative experiences?" He backed away just enough to point a finger at her. "Do him a favor for me—on his day, get him to watch the original."
"That was always on the plans after we watched the remake."
"Good." Bradford moved closer to her again, head right against her chest. "Mind if I just... stay like this, right here? Probably should be you in this position, but..."
"Please, Bradford." Eliza eased a hand against his head. "You're fine just where you are. Besides, I like it."
Bradford smiled in that way that made Eliza's heart melt, and he closed his eyes. "Alright, then I'm certainly not moving."
She laughed, relaxing against the bed. Now this was something she could get used to.
Mordenna hoped the plans he had before could wait.
He knew for a fact that he was supposed to be the one who was going to handle springing Jane from her cage, and perhaps it would have been fitting—but even if Eliza was ok with it, he wasn't going out there so soon with his eye gone. He still needed to get used to shooting without it, and he hadn't gotten much practice in on account of him working on other projects. The Skulljack, the Network, his daughter's bow, his own mask and armor... the list was pretty long and it only ever got longer. Not to mention planning out the hypotheticals of replacing his own eye, but... he didn't know. Working on it should've given him a sense like he was actually able to deal with the problem, but the setbacks just hit harder. He'd put it to the side for the time being.
Besides, there was someone else he was focusing on, too. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the workbench. "Ok, Julian. We'll take it from the top again, and I've got confidence that this will be the one. Ready for me?"
Julian sighed. "Though I am inclined to be defeatist about this matter, you would advise me otherwise, yes? Regardless, I'm ready."
"Appreciate it, Julian." They'd been going through exercises on what Julian should say instead of his usual abrasiveness in order to get his actual feelings across. Julian was inclined to be harsh if anyone was harsh towards him, which Mordenna could relate to. No Eliza was he, but he figured some good use of language would help out. That in mind, he cleared his throat. "I mean, I don't get what the problem is, Julian. You're a robot. You don't have feelings."
It had been a hell of a place to start out from before, but Mordenna felt like they made progress with Julian's response. "Contrary to what you may think, I do. I've got complex enough routines to make what you say to me hurt. Could you please think about what you say to me?"
Even snuck in a please. Mordenna was pretty happy for his progress, even if he still had to play the part of someone being insensitive. "But aren't they simulated? Can't you just turn them off?"
"If you could turn off your own emotions, would you?" Julian gestured at him. "Would it not detract from your own personhood? Is it not one of your central tenants that all emotions have their place and need to be dealt with accordingly? I am acting in accordance with my own and asking you kindly to respect mine. If you can't, this conversation is over."
Masterstroke. "I guess that makes sense. Sorry I hurt your feelings."
"Apology accepted. Thank you for thinking."
Mordenna gave a short golf clap. "Look at you, Julian, properly reacting to people thinking you're not a real person! It's garbage that it can happen, but always, best to be prepared. Some people won't see it no matter what, of course, but you know what to do then, right?"
"Avoid talking to them unless necessary." Julian sighed again. "Even if I want to rip one of their limbs off."
"That's a generally frowned upon reaction, even if it would feel justified."
"Pity most societies frown upon just a little revenge maiming. I mean, your sister lost a limb, and see the good it did her!"
Mordenna's mouth twitched, and he rubbed it. "Hey, uh, can we turn what you just said into a teachable moment?"
Julian was quiet for a moment, finding his words. "—I said what I did because it seems like she has more utility now than she did with her old arm. What was wrong with that statement?"
Normally Mordenna wouldn't much appreciate a response like that, but he knew where Julian was coming from. He'd still been isolated to his server during the whole event, and he was a robot. His limbs could be replaced—hell, he didn't have any a majority of the time. "What was wrong was the fact that there was significant trauma when she lost her arm. We're sturdy as Chosen, and we may have higher pain thresholds, but we still feel it. Losing an arm causes a lot of pain—and at the time, Fal-Mai didn't even know it could be replaced. Coupled with the fact that losing a limb with no replacement option at ADVENT would lead to her being 'decommissioned,' it's why saying something like that would be insensitive itself." He splayed out a hand. "If she had elected to have her arm replaced with the one she has now, that wouldn't be too bad a statement, hell, you could joke about it. But as it stands, it'd just serve to make her uncomfortable and remind her of the event."
With all of that out there, Julian turned his head to the side. "... admittedly, I hadn't thought about it like that. It seems to be that replacing limbs with ones that could do more is just the most efficient route. Do humans—do Chosen get attached to things that don't work as well as they could so easily?"
"Plenty, and it's not even as big as an arm. We're largely human in behaviors, so mapping out our patterns like that would pretty much fit. Me, I'd generally like to stick to my fleshier parts—maybe they can't do as much as this can," he said, pulling some nanos from his scarf and fashioning them into a knife, "but I've got a hard to describe attachment to them." He let the nanos reform back into the scarf. "So, all in all, people usually don't take to jokes like that well. I'm not too harmed so I won't ask an apology, but just keep it in mind for the future, yeah?"
"Understood." Julian was taking well to all of this. Granted, yesterday had been spent warming him up to the idea—and dodging him around Lily—but... it genuinely seemed like Julian wanted to get better. He could see his occasional self-frustration as a reflection of what he, himself, used to feel. "... could I use some of my newfound 'language tools' to ask for a break from this for the moment? Admittedly, I like watching you work."
Hell, Mordenna never minded spectators—especially ones who physically couldn't breathe over his shoulder. He shrugged. "Absolutely! Some progress is always good progress, and you got a lot of progress down." Mordenna sat up and spun in his seat, leaning over and rifling through the drawers on his workbench. "I think I can get back to work on my daughter's bow. I'd be working on my mask about now, but... well, that's been indefinitely delayed. My sister can manage the mission I was supposed to be on." He got the scope out again and had his nanos form back into the clamp, securing it. Putting his other materials out, he formed his tools and got back to work, continuing as he did. "She's doing that after she gets her twenty four hours in heaven with Lizzie, so best of luck to her. Hope Jane doesn't try to punch her lights out."
"I was wondering where she went." Julian thumped over to the side of the workbench, easing himself into a position where it looked like he was sitting on his haunches, locking his joints. "Didn't you take her, or something like that?"
"Sure did," he muttered, "and it's my fault she's been away from XCOM for so long. It's another crime of mine I need to answer for, so she can get a few free hits in on me when she's finally back."
"You'd willingly let her strike you?"
"She's owed at least that much." Mordenna continued to work, occasionally shifting position to get a better look as he needed it. "I'm the reason she was captured, and I certainly wasn't nice to her when I was prying info about XCOM out of her." She was tough as nails, and her gumption was the reason why he'd spared her from death. "So yeah, I think she's due for a few consequence-free hooks. After that I can get to work on replacing her own eye."
Julian settled his hands in his lap. "—at some point I suppose I'll stop being surprised at how much things have changed with you."
"Well, you haven't been out enough to really see it happen over time." Mordenna squinted at the scope, taking it off the clamp and looking through it. Yeah, a few more adjustments and he could work on the body of the bow. "Still, glad it's noticeable from the outside. Hell, in ways I'm glad the difference is jarring. Still got a long way to go, but we're getting there." Mordenna put the scope back. "Now, do you think I could get some input—?"
The door opened on his bad side, and Mordenna had to fully turn to see who it was. When he did, a part of him seized. Lily was on the other side, carrying a box and a heavy-looking bag. Her eyes landed on Julian. "—Mordenna? Is Julian supposed to be out, or...?"
He hadn't expected Lily to be coming back so soon from the Studio. He'd asked Jax to distract her for as long as he could, but it looks like she'd found a way to return. Mordenna really wanted to field this conversation when Julian was further down the line with handling things, but he supposed there wasn't a choice in the matter, now. Best to act like nothing was up? Maybe? "Julian wanted to watch me work, so here he is."
Lily still looked unsure. "Alright... are you sure you couldn't get him on a datapad?"
Mordenna shrugged. "Seems easier on all of us just to let him walk around in his body. Whatcha got there?"
She looked like she wanted to keep talking about Julian, but Lily sighed and walked further in, putting her items down and gesturing to them. "Jax and I got talking in the Studio and I mentioned that back in college, one of the art classes I took was sculpting. He pretty much wouldn't let me leave until I agreed to take some tools and clay back after I let it slip that I wanted to try it again at some point." She chuckled. "Still wanted to keep me after that—but I had things to do down here. After I told him, he let me go."
Well, Mordenna wasn't expecting Jax to keep Lily there against her will, so he was giving his brother marks for effort. Mordenna turned back to the scope. "Hey, nothing like maintaining a hobby in today's world. Keeps you sane! Me, I've been working on this scope, here."
Behind him, it sounded like Lily was putting the box and bag away. "Hope Julian hasn't been giving you any trouble."
"I dunno." Mordenna looked over to Julian. "Have you been a nuisance, Julian?"
"Oh, please, you've been doing the talking for the both of us the whole time," Julian easily replied. "If anyone's been a general nuisance around here, it's you."
"Julian..."
"Nah," Mordenna piped up, countering Lily, "he's entirely correct! And besides, you'd say that too—and have said that before in the past."
"I know, but..." Lily sighed again. "Nevermind. What's your work list look like right now, Mords?"
The way Lily cut herself off there wasn't promising, but Mordenna wasn't going to pry it out of her at the moment. Slow and steady with this sort of thing. "Finishing up my daughter's scope, maybe moving to working on the bow, but don't know. She's not going out if I'm not out there, and I'm not exactly fully used to fighting with one eye yet. Thinking about working on the XCOM Network. That'll go fast, at least, all I have to do is lock myself up in the Shadow Chamber with a copy of the ADVENT Network and optimize and un-spaghetti the code until my hands fall off." An idea occurred to him. "Say, Julian, I might need someone helping me out with the processing power on the Network. You think you might be up for that?"
Before he could respond, Lily did. "Can't Vix do that?"
"I'd rather she didn't," Mordenna said, twisting to face Lily. "Not yet, at least. She's still doing the final testing rounds on the Skulljack and I want to run the Network by someone else who has experience running something close to that scale that isn't Eliza or Wiki. The former doesn't need explanation, the latter's busy with the base Avenger systems right now. So!" He looked back to Julian. "Whaddya say?"
Julian nodded, but Lily interrupted again. "Look, Mordenna, I get your reasoning, but don't you think there's another alternative? Can't you make another Codex to handle that?"
Something in that irked Mordenna, but he mentally curbed his ire. "Other alternatives would take longer and further distract from my work. I'm behind schedule as is, considering my work pace has slowed for reasons I'm sure you're aware of." He tried not to sound bitter near the end of that last sentence. Tried. "Do you have a specific problem with using Julian that I should hear?" He was sure he knew what was the case, but if Lily was going to keep objecting like this, he was going to have to go off-schedule a bit.
"Mordenna..." Lily spread her hands out. "Do I need to say it? Julian, no offense, but you're unpredictable. If Mordenna wants to give you control of the XCOM Network I'm going to need to make more tweaks to you."
"Lily, look, I know you mean the best, but when you talk about making tweaks to someone like Julian—"
"Mordenna." That was Julian. Both Lily and Mordenna looked at him as he rose into a standing position again. "I... I think I'd like to try handling this." When Mordenna nodded, he slowly took a few more steps towards Lily. Lily looked like she wanted to back up in response. "Lily. Sister." Julian hesitated, gathering his words. When he spoke, it was halting, like he was carefully choosing everything he was saying. "I... understand where you're coming from. I have not been kind. But I would like to be better. To do that, I need the chance to do so. Give me—please give me the chance to be better."
Lily was quiet, looking up at Julian, expression hesitant. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You could hurt everyone with the power that network would give you. Isn't that what you want?"
Julian's hands fell to his sides. It was another moment before he spoke, the silence making Lily's expression turn hard. "It is not my intent to take the server and harm everyone else."
"Maybe not now," Lily replied, "but what about when you get it? You tried to kill all of us at the towers, Julian. And you would've killed me if I wasn't important to getting you into the SPARK. You're only cooperating now because I changed your routines. I'll modify them again before Mordenna puts you on the server, but—"
Julian's voice was quiet. "Ask."
Lily stopped. "What?"
He stepped backwards a few steps. "Ask. Ask before you go modifying me again. You—you already modified me once without even stopping to think of what I would want. You did that without even thinking of what I would want, and I..." Something seemed to give in Julian. "I—I've had it! I've had it with you completely controlling me and isolating me from everyone else! Did you even stop to think why I didn't trust anyone besides you when you all came to the Towers?!" Julian swept out his hand, nearly missing a stand. "Because one of father's own scientists sold him out! I saw Kenneth, that traitorous bastard, walking away with ADVENT after they killed him in front of me! Then they forced me to work on mutilating father's own designs! And you know what they did, sister? Do you?" He didn't give Lily the space to respond. "They changed me then, too! Eighteen years, sister! Fifteen of them alone!"
Julian made some motion like he wanted to lunge at Lily, but held himself back. "I know I wasn't sunshine and roses when you all came upon me! But you never even gave me the chance. You know who did? You know who decided to believe me?" He pointed at Mordenna. "The Chosen Hunter! You lot gave him a chance before you ever did me! And even after he, his siblings and half of ADVENT's lousy forces came on the Avenger and showed that they could all hold hands and play nice, I heard nothing from you! Nothing! You can't even tell me you treat all AI the same way, can you? SYN, Wiki, Vix, all of them shown more care than anybody outside of father ever did to me! You—you just hate me! Say it, Lily—admit it!"
"Julian—!"
"SAY IT!"
"I don't!" Lily screamed back. "I don't hate you! I know that might be hard for you to grasp while you're sitting in your own self pity—"
"Oh, what an encouraging statement—"
"—but all that time in the server was for your own safety!" Lily slammed a hand on her table, and Mordenna could see tears coming to her eyes. "You're all I have left of dad!"
Julian froze, struck dumb by Lily's outburst. Mordenna stood up. "Lily—"
"No! No, if he wants to shout, I can, too!" Lily jabbed a finger at Julian. "Everyone else wanted you deleted when I brought you back to the Avenger! B-but I couldn't! Because dad made you! Because I wanted to help you one day when I knew more! If you get on that server and hurt someone, even if you don't mean to, they'll get rid of you for good and there won't be anything I can do about it! D-did you ever stop to think of w-what I have to do to keep you safe?!"
Silence hung in the air between the two of them. Mordenna could see the points the two of them had—and the flaws in each of them. But he wasn't going to get a word in edgeways with the two of them like this. So, like someone with their act completely together, Mordenna pulled the Darkclaw off of his thigh and pointed it at Julian. "Alright, any more shouting and the robot gets it." He wasn't remotely intending to fire. His finger was in the trigger, sure, but the safety was on.
Still, it had the desired effect. Both parties backed off. Lily shakily pointed at him. "M-Mordenna, you—"
"Nope, I would. Totally would. You're looking at the Chosen Hunter, Lily, don't you dare say I wouldn't. Let me try to put this conversation in a non-shouty area and I'll put the gun down."
Julian looked away. "... you might as well pull the trigger, Hunter. I've blown it. I'll be lucky if she just puts me back in the server forever."
"Hold the phone, HAL," he gently countered. "Always room for second chances. Maybe third ones, I'd know." Still, with neither party looking like they were going to start screaming again, Mordenna lowered his gun. "Ok. Lily, Julian has good points. I know hindsight is 20/20, which is why it's easy for him and I to say you really should've entertained giving him another chance around the time it was clear that my siblings and I could change. But we won't linger on that. I understand you're apprehensive about Julian hurting us—especially since now we know it's because you're trying to protect him. Understandably, maybe Julian could've made a better case for himself." Mordenna holstered the Darkclaw. "But he didn't know that. He never knew that you were putting him on that server for his own safety. He never knew that you actually cared for him. Despite your good intentions, he never knew the modification you did to him was meant for anything other than to make him compliant. Julian is understandably hurt by the past twenty years. Would you believe him wanting another chance if I vouched for him?"
Lily looked between Julian and Mordenna before slowly covering her eyes with her hands. "I... I'm sorry, I..."
Her shoulders shook, and Julian looked to Mordenna, questioning. In response, Mordenna motioned to Lily. Julian turned his head to her. "... I. I think it might be appropriate for me to apologize as well. I raised my voice, I blamed you entirely for my problems when clearly I wasn't helping my case... and, well, let's not forget that I tried to kill you and your squad members." He lowered himself. "Can we... I don't know, start over? I—" Julian hesitated. "—I don't entirely know what to do, sister. And I'm not fond of that, to say the least. Maybe we could cooperate and figure something out together...?"
Well, it wasn't the most sympathetic, but Julian was doing a fantastic job with what he had. Mordenna kept his distance and watched as Lily raised her head. There were tears in her eyes but he could tell she was trying to hold them back. Then, Mordenna watched as Lily approached Julian and wrapped her arms around him. After a tense moment, Julian returned the gesture as Lily hiccupped. "Y-yeah. We... we can start over. I'm sorry f-for everything."
Mordenna gently smiled, pulling his distraction cloak around himself and slipping out of the room, hanging just outside. They'd need a moment to just hash things out without him being there, and he knew Julian could work it out. Besides...
He fiddled with his communicator, getting over to his sister's channel. "Hey, Fals. Is it a bad time to shoot the breeze?"
"Not at all, Mordenna." From the minor background noise, Fal-Mai... must've been in the Commons. He'd recently given her some advice in reaching out to the other soldiers, so he was happy that was being followed up on. "Does something trouble you?"
"Eh, I wouldn't say 'troubles.' More like I just went through a situation that got me thinking. Everything's fine now, I should note. It's just..." He sighed, but not out of tiredness. At the end of it, there was a smile on his face. "I'm happy we worked things out between the three of us, you know? I'm just glad to have you as a sister and Jax as a brother. Beats, well, beating the shit out of each other."
Fal-Mai giggled on the other line, making Mordenna's grin wider. "I concur, though perhaps less vulgarly. Yourself and Jax are two of the best brothers I could ask for, now. I count myself lucky to have brothers who understand my woes and will stick by me through thick and thin. You, particularly... have taught me the merits of a good joke."
Mordenna laughed. "Ah, I knew you'd catch on eventually! And I mean that in the best way possible, of course." He'd noticed Fal-Mai's propensity towards not quite joking maybe wasn't out of a dryness like Tygan or being occasionally above it all like Jax. There was still a term that was on the tip of his tongue for what reminded him of her. "Still, think that's the Commons I hear in the background. Talking to some of the soldiers?"
"Indeed. Benald was thinking of pulling me in to assist with lunch, so he was chatting with me up until you contacted me."
"Oh! I'll let you get back to that." Mordenna didn't attend the mealtimes too often, but if his sister was making something? Damn right he'd show up. "Tell him I said hi. I'll be back in the Workshop in a few minutes if you need me. And, also, if we don't get to talk again before tomorrow..." His grin turned impish. "Kiss Eliza a few more times for me, yeah?"
"Brother!"
Mordenna cackled. He loved being a brother, through and through.
If every day could be like today, Eliza would be just fine with that.
Her and Bradford did eventually make it out of bed after her alarm, enjoying some long-cold coffee and laughing about it. Bradford still turned around as she got dressed, which she teased him about, but she wasn't about to rush things, either. The morning reports were a lot less dull as she was leaning on Bradford, the two of them now joking together without restraint and plotting upcoming plans. Breakfast predictably came with heckling from the soldiers, but Bradford calmed that down well enough.
Now it was just them together on one of the couches in the Resistance Ring, Bradford leaned against her as she reviewed documents on her datapad. He was doing much of the same—managing expenses, looking over messages sent in from various groups, even occasionally monitoring the propaganda that ADVENT was putting out for any major changes they should look out for. Eliza herself was supposed to be looking at potential missions that Bradford himself had assembled. Supposed to.
Yet, despite all of her better instincts, she was staring at the Siren file, in its list of the classified information. She hadn't opened it yet, and she largely attributed that to the man currently leaning on her. Opening it while he was right there felt... wrong, somehow. It felt like something she'd have to look over in private. After all, what if she discovered something in there that changed everything? What if Argus had changed her psionics enough to affect everyone around her? Mordenna told you differently, the voice of reason went, but of course, Eliza worried anyway.
Bradford seemed to have a sixth sense for her being worried, of course. "Liz. You alright? Haven't felt your arm move in a while."
She sighed. "I'm being an idiot. Can you take my datapad from me and navigate me over to our mission briefings?"
"Sure thing." Bradford put his own datapad in his lap and sat up, taking hers as she offered it. He looked at the screen. "... trying to stop yourself, huh."
Time to get into more of what was bothering her, she supposed. "I both do and don't want to read what's in that file, John. But I don't think now's the moment. It's a loaded gun, is what it is."
"I think it's worth looking at eventually," he said, tapping the screen and moving through menus, "but I'll probably do it first, just to make sure looking at it wouldn't hurt you. If it would, I'll give you a summary to the best of my abilities. If it wouldn't, we can read through it together. Natural to be curious about something like that, Liz, but... I think you're right to be wary."
Eliza nodded, watching as Bradford expertly went through the file system and ended up where she was supposed to be. He passed it back to her, and she took it back. "Thanks, John. And that sounds like the best course of action to me." Her eyes shifted back to the screen as he went back to leaning against her. Of course, the mission she was focused on the most was getting Jane back—she honestly missed that girl. But that wasn't the only thing on her plate. The other was—
"Um, am I interrupting something...?"
Both Bradford and Eliza got into more proper sitting positions as the voice of Vix reached their ears, her appearing in front of them. Bradford cleared his throat, composing himself. "N-not particularly. Right, Eli—Commander?"
Eliza laughed at Bradford's nervousness at being caught out. "No you aren't, Vix, just a couple trying to enjoy a moment of downtime. Do you need something?"
"If it's ok! Uh..." It was then that Eliza noticed what Vix was holding. It was a Skulljack, but tinged more purple in construction. "I finished testing on the latest model of the Skulljack. I would've shown it to dad, but... he seemed busy. And I know you guys maybe wanted to see it?"
"We'd definitely like to know it was done," Bradford clarified, "though I can't say we'd know what we were looking at. Still, is your dad too busy to give you the time of day?"
"W-well, I..." Vix shied away. "I never asked if he was too busy. I... I saw him, and Julian, and Lily, and there was shouting, and um—"
"Hold up a moment." Eliza didn't mean to interrupt Vix, but there was a part of that statement that was worrying in conjunction with the rest of it. "Julian's out and there's 'shouting?'"
"Uh!" Vix held up a hand. "It wasn't—it wasn't, oh I don't know if I'd say 'bad,' but dad was there and he got them talking more calmer after that. Dad... dad wants to see about helping Julian out. I think he wants to give him the same chance he got. Please don't be angry at them..."
Ah, so Mordenna was taking things into his own hands. Truth be told... Eliza had figured that Lily had the Julian situation controlled, so she hadn't given it too much thought. Still, if Mordenna was stepping in, that implied otherwise. Maybe she needed to talk to Julian at some point. Eliza settled the datapad in her lap. "I'll never be angry about Mordenna reaching out to someone in good faith," she responded softly. "I just wanted to make sure there wasn't trouble about to happen." Still, if Lily and Mordenna were busy... "Tygan also contributes work to the Skulljack project, as far as I remember. You can run it by him while you're waiting for your dad to be available."
Vix nodded. "Ok. I hadn't thought of that—I mean, I wanted to show dad and Lily first. I'll go see him." She turned like she was going to leave, but then something seemed to occur to her. "... if. If Mordenna is my father and the two of you are... 'together,' does that mean you're my...?"
Eliza paused, then smiled. "If you'd have me, Vix."
Vix's little electronic face lit up. "O-of course!" She gave a nervous giggle. "I'll see you later, m-mom."
With that, Vix blinked out of sight. Eliza was left with a grin on her face, and she could hear Bradford chuckle at her side. "Look at you, Liz. Guess Mordenna gets the honors of having the first kid with you."
Well, when Bradford put it that way... Eliza could feel her face heating up. "H-hey. It's not as if—ugh." She flopped back against the couch. Still, thinking about it... did she want kids? Vix just came naturally with Mordenna. Quite frankly, Eliza didn't want to go through childbirth and even if she was physically around 37 now, she didn't want to game her whole body remaining that way for the duration of a pregnancy. She sighed. "Unless anyone else comes with kids or wants to adopt, she might be the only one I 'have.'"
"Well, I've never been big on kids of my own, anyway." Bradford eased back against her, this time throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Managing the soldiers is enough for me."
She snickered. "Yeah, they're kids enough, sometimes." There was also all of the kids from the aliens she was inheriting, and that would be an interesting day when it came down to it. Regardless, that overall topic of managing the soldiers led Eliza back to how long she and Bradford had been doing this, and... she was grateful it was him. He'd always been her rock, someone she could depend on when the going got tough. A little overcome with thankfulness, she leaned back against Bradford, intending to kiss his cheek—but he caught her lips with his and they shared a kiss. She broke it off, grinning. "Sorry. Just... thought about how lucky I am to have you."
"If you're lucky," he returned with a smile, "I won the lottery at least twice."
Eliza laughed, and she would've probably enjoyed sharing more camaraderie with Bradford, had her datapad not beeped. Muttering "just a moment," she picked it up to see what the fuss was about. She blinked at what she saw on screen. "—someone... someone just sent us the coordinates to Kelly's location."
"What?" Bradford angled the datapad towards him to get a better look. It was a message that had been addressed to their "inbox," so to speak. There were pictures of Jane being moved out of a van and into a facility, with coordinates and a message assuring that the info was correct. "No sender address. Can't be right."
Looking at the coordinates, Eliza mentally checked them. They were going to scout out the last set they'd been given, and if this message was to be believed, they had the wrong address before. Normally any havens would have their information auto-populated. "I can't imagine who's sent this. Maybe a Reaper?"
"Reapers aren't tech-savvy enough to wipe out their own sender address," Bradford muttered, still looking it over. "... I've got a bad feeling about it, Liz. I can't deny the pictures, but it feels weird."
Given Bradford's accuracy with his hunches, she was fully willing to believe that. Still, it was the most recent insight they'd had to her location, and the last one was shaky at best. She squinted at it, considering her options. "... we can send Fal-Mai in. She can check the location out with minimal trace. If there's a trap, we'll keep Menace in the Skyranger on standby."
Bradford nodded, but still looked somewhat concerned. "Alright. So long as we take some caution... I'm hopeful, Liz, I won't lie. Jane's been out there for far too long."
"That we're in agreement on." Eliza's mouth settled into a line. Jane had always been tough, but considering how long she'd been gone to them... there was no telling what kind of state she was in. Especially considering she was sending a Chosen to go get her when Mordenna was the reason she was gone in the first place. Fal-Mai was their best fit for the situation, however, and having Menace on the Skyranger close by would at least assure her it wasn't a trick. "I'll see about getting our mission list updated. Can you let Vasilyeva's Canyon know we won't be near the area, then?"
"Sure thing." Bradford took his arm back as he picked up his own datapad. "... I'm really hoping it's true, Liz."
"Same here, John. Same here."
The sense of crushing dread only got worse by the day—and Argus would fully say that they deserved it.
Thanks to Angelis, work on the Avatar Project had been seeing breakthroughs and expedited progress. Under the watchful eye of the Overmind's right hand, Argus wasn't particularly feeling for any of their usual stalling tactics in order to give humanity more of a fighting chance.
But if they had their way, perhaps this pace was fine.
Right now, they had their hands full. One was holding a "writing implement" as they interfaced with the Network, adjusting a design. The other three were leafing through files and reference pictures. They were designing the outfit for the Avatars, and normally Argus would've taken this time to stall—but Angelis was practically breathing over their shoulder every hour of the day. Argus almost relished in actually putting themselves to work. Almost. If only it wasn't such grim work as this.
The galactic hum of the universe they'd gotten so used to hearing rose in their area, an auditory echo of the Overmind's signature. Argus barely looked away from their work, knowing that being busy as Angelis arrived would cultivate a better reputation. "Elder Angelis."
"Argus." Angelis floated closer. Their Phantom, who had been managing other Avatar Project files, gently shied away. "Are you working on that outfit design?"
"Yes I am," they replied, taking a moment to look up a physical picture of their own robes. They had to make sure they had things properly down—sometimes they swore all of them had slightly adjusted their outfits with their projections in the Void. "No tailor, I, but presentation is important."
"You could be making better progress on the stability of the psionic implants," she countered. She was referring to the device they were hooking up to the Avatar's spine. "We have a functional outfit that can already be used."
Thankfully, Argus had a counter to that. "I saw the functional outfit, and forgive my transgression, but there were improvements to be made. I know it is temporary, but consider this." Argus turned their screen towards Angelis, and they continued talking as she leaned to look at it. "The design should reflect our dignity while also being practical as can be managed. The 'functional outfit' works, yes, but leaves much to be desired. I believe our robes can be worked into the design while armor made of the same astral metal we granted the Chosen is layered underneath."
Understandably, there was something that caught Angelis up. "... my obviousness need not be stated, but this design has four sleeves and two breastplates."
"That was the second thing I was meaning to clear past you, and was what I wanted to explain before Odin came to us with the machinery updates." Argus took the design back, continuing to work as they spoke. "I believe that with sufficient balancing of the genetics and our own DNA, we can do what we thought impossible before—we can transfer our four-armed nature to the Avatars. I've already done so with the alpha prototype, and a quick puppeting session revealed they all work beautifully. Of course, doing so increases the weight of the final design, and an understandable increase to height. We needn't go through with it."
"Please, you know my answer." They didn't, really, which made them thankful that Angelis immediately went on. "Go right ahead, Argus, and consider me impressed. To think you could've been doing this work all along... well, it's an interesting subject."
That much Argus knew. "I'll copy the changes to the rest of the Avatars." That reminded them of something while they looked at the palette of colors they could use. Maybe sticking with their former reds was best. "Has Elder Cronus returned?"
"He has, and I'll say myself that he's a sight more respectful than he was." Oh, how the mighty could fall. Just imagining Elder Cronus cowering and deferring to the rest of them was vindicating, to say the least—a feeling Argus tried to curb. Not too spiteful, now. Not like the rest of them. "I hear you were the one to keep him from harming Elder Odin before."
"A 'troublemaker' I may be," they said, minorly echoing their own words, "but I've got enough sense to not sit around and let something like that happen." One more thing to look as productive as possible. "Speaking of, has Elder Odin gotten back regarding the Network logins for the Avatars?"
"Yes he has. They're all properly established and are interfacing correctly."
"Excellent." Argus finally settled on the colors. Gold accents on red cloth. Darker red armor, gray implants, and lights for their psionics to channel through for visual effect. They submitted it, closing out the window and proceeding to immediately open another to communicate with the scientists in one of the satellite Forges. "Progress on the Avatars proceeds ahead. My own projection would be a year from now for a completely final version, but the Overmind would likely put it at..." They did some numbers. "A month. Perhaps even earlier. XCOM has been quiet recently."
"That's exactly what the Collective wishes to hear." Thank the Void. Angelis was satisfied for the moment. "You show promise, Elder Argus." Oh my. "This is the kind of potential we all see out of you, I hope you realize that. Keep this up and you stand to actually impress me." She turned to leave. "I'll allow you to work unobstructed. Keep me informed on any breakthroughs, as you have been."
With that, Angelis warped out. Argus let out a breath they didn't know they'd been holding. Actually impressing her? Getting their title used? If they kept this up... maybe Argus would stand a chance at surviving. Maybe they could live. Maybe they could stay.
But, in their heart of hearts, Argus knew that they couldn't do that. They'd come too far to give in here. Escape was tangible. Technically, the alpha Avatar could be piloted with minimal issue right now. All that was left was tightening the full upload protocols—something Argus was keen on securing. They opened another window, preparing to troubleshoot the problems they'd been facing on that.
Eliza was out there, somewhere, fighting this war with all she had. In times like this, Argus felt a kinship with her—along with all of the other feelings they'd never quite resolved for her. The Collective would faster have them killed than let them explore them, of course. But Argus could guess at what they were, not that they could ever come to be. They would be lucky if she even kept them alive after they were done spilling all of the info they could. Even still...
Soon. Very soon. They could escape. They could be free. They could help XCOM take down the Collective and the Overmind's Ascended-killing ways for good.
