Good day, fellow citizens! Larry's back with the fanfic. Took a bit longer due to school and stuff, but O am finally back. Off to the reviews!
LogicalWriter - Yes, this was in part inspired by GATE Thus The Frozen Wastes Consumed All. However, this had over ten re-writes until I settled with writing the current version, so yeah.
Ferno16 - The recoil would make aiming inefficient, and if a Naval Gun was bolted to the Automaton, I will take an educated guess and say that firing it once would destroy the Automaton. As for how they're going to war, well... find out when it comes to that point. Just know that a few people from New Manchester were in Zulu at one point.
Mecharic - Yeah, they still have guns. Not a whole lot of ammunition, but that can be fixed in a jiffy!
JoJo Guest - You and me, pal. We're both lonely. But yeah, thanks for the praise, I really don't think I deserve it just yet. Also, that's not Timothy's blood relative, that's George! George stole our last natural supply of renewable Toblerones. Authorities are still searching for him as we speak.
Lone Rebel - I agree, Frostpunk has such potential, it's sad to see this many crossovers only. But yeah, New Faith is around, but Mew Manchester opted for the New Order (thus the need for Foremen earlier) with only Neighbourhood Watch being signed (no Guards). Archibald is just a rogue element, but hey, he keeps Hope up, so he's welcomed.
Daggercloak000 - Patience is a virtue which we've spun to weave our cloaks, friend. I will say this ahain to avoid confusion: my release schedule will be erratic.
Darkwolf54326 - Heretic.
WarGlory - Well, now you know! And I'm glad you consider this a jewel, I'll add that one to the Archives right away!
Wombag1786 - Oh trust me, I am putting every other fanfic on hold to finish this due to it exploding in popularity overnight. And yeah, it sucks that writer's blocks exist. I try not to write forcefully so as to avoid dumb stuff.
And let me tell you the story or [REDACTED] the man who punched Zorzal. He was wise and he was strong, and he was extremely pissed. That's it. That's all I say.
Pina is as much an idiot as everyone on Falmart. Some people simply adapt to being hit in the head with knowledge. Or a wrench, whichever gets to them first.
And yeah, Count Formal lives, woop woop!
Now that that's out of the way, onto the next chapter! TIMOTHY DROP THAT HUNTING RIFLE THIS INSTANT-
EARTH: UNDISCOVERED CAVE SYSTEM, 12:13 PM
COUNT FORMAL P.O.V
Grim times these were, when foe had to ask for help from foe. But, thankfully for the otherworlders, Count Formal was one who saw reason when it was needed. And thankfully for him and his men, the otherworlders listened to their pleas of help. This was why he sat with a representative of the otherworlders, and conversed.
"As I understand it, our language has been practiced roughly a thousand years ago on this world? And has since stopped being a language commoners knew?"
"That would be the gist of it, Count Formal, yes. It had to be replaced eventually." The man said, adjusting himself so that he may feel as comfortable as one could get on a rock.
"I suppose so... but... it is still fascinating that it wasn't only us that spoke this language." Count Formal said, a small smile forming on his face, which was broken by a cough.
"That is true. On another subject, however... I simply don't have neither the men nor the medicine on hand to treat everyone here. At best, we have enough medicine to keep everyone alive for about two days. And if we use that medicine to actively treat people, we can treat only two hundred. At best." The man sighed. It was frustrating, trying to not make the soldiers live in a state of undeath. Damn the fools that forced Count Formal to be sent with the Expeditionary Forces. Separated from his friends, his most fervent of allies, but most importantly... from Myui. Gods forbid that something had happened to her in his absence. Gods forbid her reaction if he were to die in this land. He worried, like every father would. It's what kept him human in the Frostland.
"Whatever you do, you have already done far more than what was asked of you. But now that we have time, I wish to know what happened to this world? What made it so cold?" Count Formal asked, his coughing fit finally over for the next several hours. The man across him simply made a light chuckle.
"There are a lot of theories about what exactly happened. While we were transporting the Seedling Arks to the Generator Site, we encountered some men who simply refused to leave the observatory they were stationed in. Their leader explained that they had been observing the Sun, and came to the conclusion that the Sun might be dimming. However, he admitted to not having accurate results. The next theory was that two supervolcanoes, Krakatoa and Tambora, finally erupted, sending ash into the atmosphere, blotting out the Sun. That alone couldn't have caused the Great Winter, however..." The man explained, with him explaining things in detail when the need rose, due to Count Formal either not knowing what the words meant, or had insufficient knowledge. Yet... the one with the Sun dimming hit him hardest. Could it have been Flare finally giving up on this world?
"Another theory me and my colleagues have put up for debate was the magnetic poles of the planet taking a rapid shift, thus de-stabilizing the magnetic sphere, disturbing the ash and making it chaotic, erratic, and deadly. Yet none of it still explains the strength of the Storm... our Stereoscopic Lenses saw right through it, to its very heart, but there was too much ash, even for those two events to produce. Perhaps Tesla's theory on the Patagonia Meteor holds some credence, after all..."
While the man was still explaining things to the ever interested, and disturbed Count Formal, Delilah slowly creeped in, clutching the sheets of paper that she had found hours ago. Perhaps the man could shed some light on what the first pages said...? Count Formal must have noticed her, for he called her out by name, to come. Asking her why she had decided to come, Delilah explained the situation. The man, an academic, simply nodded.
"Well, let's see what this unfortunate fellow wrote..."
"It has been fourteen days since I received the last report from London: the Dreadnoughts, all four hundred of them, left port. Many more ships left port as well, each carrying well over a thousand people. I received a report from the Royal Navy, however, to be aware of a Norwegian ship that went ahead of the Dreadnoughts, trailing the Imperial Exploration Company's expedition to Generator Site One-Oh-Six, where the citizens from London would disembark. I also received a last minute report of having to watch out for two American Dreadnoughts, the USS Hephaestus and USS Prometheus, and guide them to Generator Site One-One-Two, just south of One-Oh-Six. I still can't believe how the United States cracked our intelligence and figured out what we were doing up north, but it doesn't matter now. All I and the mates have to do is wait for the Americans to pass, and then wait for extraction from the Manchester Dreadnought, inbound to Generator Site Two-One-Eight. This is gonna be a rough month. But, we've got supplies to last us that long. Now the boring part. I'll write again when something noteworthy happens."
There was a pause, as the academic skimmed through several pages, most of which were damaged, and unreadable. Eventually, he landed on the one that was readable, and continued.
"As I said last time, the two American Dreadnoughts did pass by, and we corrected them, since they were headed straight for a mountain. I even got to shake hands with Nikola Tesla. But, that was in the past. I just got troubling news... the fucking Storm that first appeared in the south finally started climbing up the Arctic. Worse yet, the Manchester Dreadnought still hadn't come, and it's been a month now. Where the hell could they be? I hope they weren't lost, otherwise we'd have to wait an additional month, somehow, to wait for the joint Oxford-Cambridge Dreadnought to arrive, with a grand total of over twenty Automatons they're bringing. Twenty Automatons all in one place... imagine it. I don't know why they would need so many, but if they have them, they must have something important to put them to work on."
"Oh dear..." The academic mumbled, having finally reached the next page. That was where the scribbles started, and the descent to madness begun. He took a pause each time, to allow Delilah and Count Formal, and anyone else who was within earshot, to process the information.
"My son... by baby boy... HOW FUCKING DARE THEY!? THEY TOLD ME THEY WOULD GET GUARANTEED SEATS DAYS BEFORE THE DREADNOUGHTS LEFT PORT! APPARENTLY THEY FORCED MY WIFE AND SON TO PAY UP, AND STILL HADN'T GOTTEN ENOUGH FOR ONE FUCKING TICKET! HOW DID I FIND THIS OUT!? THE IDIOTS FROM THE IEC WE FOUND ROAMING HOURS AGO TOLD ME SO! Fan-fucking-tastic. I just hope they made it onto the ships, at least. Tickets for those were very cheap, last time I heard."
"That's where the readable pages end. He must've broken the moment he found out his wife and son were dead on the next page, if the blood on it is anything to go by... dear God, this man suffered. And to think he was expecting us or the men and women of Manchester..." The academic stated, disappointment more so than sadness apparent in his voice. He got up, and groaned from not moving so much during the entire ordeal. "If you would excuse me, I have to bury a man. And see if the men I sent out are returning by chance."
FALMART: ALLIED KINGDOMS CAMP, 3:30 PM
EDWARD FORD P.O.V
"And... there. This should do it." Said Edward, getting off the ground, putting his tools away back into his backpack. For the past several hours, Edward, with supervision from one of the knights, Grey, if he remembered correctly, had been disinfecting the wound of a soldier, and carefully attached a prosthetic leg. The two men eyed him with some degree of suspicion, but suspicion quickly turned to awe. As the soldier attempted to get up, with Edward's help, his face spoke of confusion, bewilderment and joy. He could walk again. The man expected to never be able to walk without assistance again, and here he was, walking as if he had never lost a leg in the first place.
"I... I do not know what to say... you truly are blessed by the gods!" The soldier said in excitement, still checking out his prosthetic leg. He moved it like he would his real leg, the joints moving smoothly and cogs locking into place when not moving.
"It's the least I could do. And you should thank British Engineering for that leg. The former British Empire made those in bulk. Hell, they even made arms." Edward explained, doing nothing to persuade the soldier that this was all except divine intervention. Sighing, Edward put his backpack on his shoulders, and made a mental note to tell his colleagues to come at least twice a week to see how the soldier is adjusting to the leg, and if it would need any maintenance.
"Sir Edward. If you could wait a moment." Grey spoke, his figure towering over the soldier as he still looked at his new leg with awe. Edward's interest was piqued, and as such, stopped in his tracks and turned to the warrior. "We have treated you as an enemy, like all other otherworlders before you, yet you still do this. All I ask is to know why."
Edward hid a small smile that formed on his face, and gave his answer. "A lot of people died back on my world. A lot of those deaths couldn't be prevented. I think that the urge to preserve what life remains has been implanted deep inside our minds. I guess it extends to everyone we meet that's in need. Simple human nature when faced with extinction." He answered, leaving Grey and the soldier alone for the time being. Upon exiting the tent, he was met with a most peculiar sight: not one, but two Automatons. One was certainly The Honourable Liverpooler, but the other looked eerily like...
"Bloody hell, we forgot we even had The Dauntless Pioneer still roaming! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Edward shouted out in frustration, obviously not happy. He took his backpack from his shoulders and rummaged through it, finally getting out the big metal transmitter with a miniature accumulator powering it. Modelled after the Difference Engine, it was shaped like a box, with various buttons on it for sending short-burst messages via the antenna which could be retracted when need be. Putting it on the ground and sitting in front of it, Edward began typing on the typographical apparatus present on it.
"Automaton. Dauntless. Pioneer. Movement. Stop = True"
Edward typed out, seeing the desired effect immediately. The Dauntless Pioneer stood motionless, the Gate a solid two minutes away from it. Sighing, Edward typed out another command.
"Automaton. Dauntless. Pioneer. Descend. To. Height. Two = 1"
The Dauntless Pioneer obeyed, starting its descent to the ground. Princess Pina and her aide must have recovered from their shock, and slowly but surely approached Edward from behind. Alas, he was too busy: he needed to perform a maintenance check. Climbing onto the chasis of the Automaton, Edward took out the tools he would need.
"Sir Edward, was it?" Pina asked from behind, watching him climb the Automaton.
"Yes?"
"May I... observe, by chance?" It was a risky thing, but it could show her that Automatons weren't dangerous...
"Alright. Take my hand." He said, and Pina cautiously took it. Edward pulled her up onto the Automaton, the beast of metal as dormant as always. Edward sat on a beam of steel, and began unscrewing a panel. As he removed the panel, he was careful not to be hit by the wave of heat from the Steam Core, something he warned Pina of beforehand.
"So this is the heart of this beast?" The princess asked, in awe of the orange glow of the Steam Core and the power it held.
"I wouldn't call it a beast, but yes. Without the Steam Core, an Automaton cannot function." Edward stated, now letting Pina observe while he worked on taking hold of the Difference Engine's calculation manifest. However, he turned his head around after hearing a faint sound of perhaps a sword, and went wide-eyed. Before he could act, Pina, in her infinite wisdom, thrusted her sword directly into the Steam Core, managing to go through. The area which was struck was a heat control chamber, and now that it was damaged, the Steam Core's heat slowly built up.
"You idiot!" Shouted Edward, his worry skyrocketing tremendously. As Pina got her sword out, Edward had taken that time to throw a wrench aimed for her head, and it struck true. The princess of the Saderan Empire was thrown off balance, and fell from the Automaton, allowing Edward to assess the damage. It was bad.
"Archibald! We have a serious problem!" Edward shouted out, Archibald coming out of the command tent in a hurry, to see what the problem was.
"What sort of problem?" He inquired.
"No time, we have to patch up the Steam Core, now! I'll guide you through the process, just hurry here!" Understanding the severety of the issue at hand, Archibald hurried to The Dauntless Pioneer.
"Alright, first thing's first. The heat fried the receiver, so we can't command it anymore. I need you to get under the Automaton, and unscrew the third panel from the handles." Edward commanded, Archibald listening closely to his every word. Throwing the screwdriver down to Archibald, the two men went to work. The commotion attracted the leaders of the Allied Kingdoms, who saw the two otherworlders frantically perform duties around and on the Automaton, as well as Hamilton helping Pina off the ground.
"You dare!? I am the third princess of the Saderan Empire, yet you still dare attack me!?"
"Oh do shut the fuck up, princess! If you went three centimeters deeper with that rinky dink sword of yours, the heat wave would've killed you on the spot!" Edward yelled back at Pina, shutting her up. "What do you see, Archibald?"
"The heat is slowly melting the inner components. I don't know what it mean-"
"It means we're fucked if the Automaton doesn't burn through its coal supply, now. Get away from the Automaton, I have a contingency for this." Edward said after cutting off Archibald, the man doing as was instructed. Rule number one of Automaton Quality Control: if it can't burn through its coal supply quickly, consider the Automaton a failure. Rule number two of Automaton Quality Control: always have a way to bootleg rule number one.
Edward moved to where the Difference Engine was, attempting to locate a special panel which he needed to open. Upon taking notice of it at last, the engineer, using his trusty wrench, smacked open the panel, to reveal several different levers, each one meant for manual control of the Automaton. One stood out, and it was the one with a red handle, with a sign slightly above it.
Automaton Coal Combustion Accelerator: USE IN EMERGENCY OR QUALITY CONTROL
Good enough of an emergency, Edward thought, as he pulled it with all his might. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then, very quickly, black pumes of industrial smoke and uncontrolable fire rose out from the Automaton's Ventilation System, which looked similar to a chimney. For a short few seconds, everyone standing there was in awe: the leaders of the Allied Kingdoms for simply witnessing this spectacle, and Pina out of fear. Fear of perhaps seeing the beast rise back up after such a mortal wound, to end her life. But it never happened, and soon enough, the fire subsided. The Automaton was silent once more.
"Well... crisis averted." Edward sighed in relief, wiping a bit of sweat which formed on his forehead. The Automaton was going to have to be towed back to the Factory, but at least it would work again. As for the Steam Core, it would need to be properly inspected, but if his assessment was correct, it wouldn't need to be replaced. They couldn't afford to lose more. As Edward got off the Automaton, he made a beeline straight for Pina. And Pina, although ready for a fight, felt somewhat... intimidated, of the man. It was the wrong word, but out of the one-million-ten-thousand-three-hundred words in the English language, none could describe what she felt. It wasn't intense, that much was known.
"Your little stunt almost killed you, princess. Consider yourself lucky I was able to shut it down." He said, visibly restraining himself from doing something rash, before marching off away from her.
"Archibald, please take care of the two Automatons. I have to alert Robert of a downed Automaton in need of repairs."
EARTH: OXBRIDGE GENERATOR SITE, 2:12 PM
"LEGACY" TEAM P.O.V
Not all was as it seemed. Not only did the three legions likely suffer immense casualties from the unrelenting winter, they had also split off into smaller groups, some of only ten, others of hundreds of people. 'Legacy' Scout Team had made a return to the Oxbridge Generator Site, with three guests of honour, no less. The team consisted of four workers from New Manchester, each one with a background in predominantly manual labour, but with some degree of higher education, whilst the fifth member was a professor at Oxford University. On three of the five sleds, three women were situated, each one with bunny ears, bizzarely enough. Questions were asked, with only the academic, Marcus Whittaker, asking questions to himself on how exactly had evolution taken them to develop animalistic traits. The women were passed out, but were slowly waking up, prompting them to hurry up, so as to have them checked by Marcus inside the Infirmary, and then treated by an Automaton if need be. He also wondered how the three hadn't died by the time they were found, seeing as they had little clothes to speak of. Perhaps their more animalistic traits kept them at least partially warm. It was only -30C...
Eventually, they had arrived, and the four workers were awed. A grand total of twelve Automatons were working tirelessly inside of the city. One operating the Factory, four at the Workshops, one at the Infirmary, one at the Wall Drill, two at the Steelworks, one at the Hothouse and two at the Coal Mines. This truly was the very definition of an Autonomous City. As they dismounted the sleds after arriving at the Beacon, Marcus wasted no time.
"Alright, I'll need help carrying these three to the Infirmary. Once you're done, I guess you could head to the Cookhouse. Grab something proper to eat."
The workers nodded, helping Marcus out by hoisting the women onto their shoulders. Marcus noted that, while they were waking up, they were also slipping back into unconsciousness. Nothing a few hours of proper rest and warmth wouldn't help with. As soon as the women were brought into the Infirmary, Marcus instructed the workers to put them into the first free beds, and then let him take over. They did exactly that, and then went to eat: prepare for the next trip to find more people. Marcus simply sighed, and watched as the Automaton's handles, which went into the building through small openings in the roof of the Infirmary which were designed for Automatons specifically, start managing the medical tools. It was programmed with knowledge of where to put what, how to treat illnesses, and treat deep Frostbite. Not that it would be doing any of that, since these women only needed rest.
And as half an hour passed, and Marcus returned from the Cookhouse himself, he was met with a... scene, per se. One of the women had finally woken up, and was currently holding a scalpel, attempting to perform a stand-off with the Automaton's handles, which merely continued to organize medicine into cabinets in alphabetical order. But now, now he had to interrupt her, for she tried attacking one of the handles holding valuable medicine: a vial of iloprost.
"Hey, stop that! That's holding highly valuable medicine!" He shouted, and it worked. It caught her attention. But it had also earned him the priviledge of seeing the scalpel miss him by a mere two centimeters. How in the bloody hell did she turn that fast...?
"Where am I!?" She commanded, Marcus raising his arms in surrender, so as to show he would be complacent. For now.
"Easy now... you're safe, if that's what you want to know. Warm, too. Warmth is a pretty big thing here." Marcus said, trying to get the woman to calm down. She did, but still kept the man in her sight. "What was the last thing you remember? That sounds like a good place to start." He could see the woman sighing. That was a good sign, she was at least partially ready to talk.
"I do not trust you, you are too weak to stop me, but if what you say is true..." She paused, before continuing. "The last I remember was that I was travelling with my sisters and some ignoble soldiers from the Empire towards... somewhere, when we got separated from the main forces. The Saderans were consumed by the snow, and only the three of us remained..." The woman said, finally taking the time to look around. Next to the bed she was in, she could see her two comrades: asleep, and alive.
"You must've fell unconscious shortly after. That's when we found you and brought you back here. If we wanted to kill you, we would've done so already." He said. His words made sense: if the enemy was defenseless, any sane person would attack.
"Then... where are we?" She asked, still weary, yet out of her combat stance. If this was but a ploy to make her lower her guard, then these people never faced a Bunny Warrior.
"Oxbridge Generator Site. On the other side of the Gate."