When the complaint from Samina Ebadji came across her desk, Dr. Elisabet Sobeck was not surprised. Nor was it any shock to find out the cause. After all, the head of the APOLLO aspect of Project: Zero Dawn had made it very clear she was not amused by certain members of their desperate band of iconoclasts and obsessive geniuses.
The exhausted leader of humanity's final hope tore her attention away from GAIA's latest status report long enough to see what Samina's problem was now. Sure enough…
'Elisabet, it's Travis. Again. I don't know if I can put into words what he's done this time, but I'm going to try. This goes beyond detestable, this is just… insane. You see, I've been informed that he…'
Upon listening to the rest of the message, Dr. Sobeck played it back again from the beginning, just to make sure she had heard right. And again. She did this five times in all.
Then she stormed off to have a word with her most difficult subordinate.
"TRAVIS!"
Travis Tate, head of the HADES project, looked up from his computer and smiled. "Hey, Liz! What's up?"
She read more than heard his greeting. The heavy death metal blaring through the lab made verbal communication practically impossible. Of course, this being his weapon of choice, Travis had no trouble carrying on a conversation under such conditions. But when the older woman made clear through shouted words and gestures that she could not, he consented to ratchet the volume down a fraction. The horrifically brilliant programmer then leaned back in his chair with fingers laced over his stomach and grinned up at her. "What can I do for ya, boss-lady?"
Elisabet adopted a frustrated expression that was by no means feigned. "Travis, I just heard from Samina. Did you really do what she says?"
"Hmm." He pursed his lips in feigned deliberation. "Well, she's got more than a few axes to grind with respect to me. But seein' as how we ain't got a whole lotta time before the Grim Reaper come's a-knockin', I'm just gonna cut to the chase and say… yes. One hundred percent. I did it."
Elisabet could only stare at him in dismay for a while. Eventually she lifted her hands in a hapless gesture and let them drop. "In heaven's name… why?"
Tate cocked his head to one side and grinned gamely. "Well, I reckon you can look on this as a sort o' subtle dig."
"Dig?" She frowned. "Against whom?"
As if on cue, a quarter-size holographic representation of Ted Faro popped up on Travis' desk. "Tate!" their personal savior/destroyer snapped. "Where are those updates I asked for?"
Without turning his head or losing the smile, Travis drawled, "Well, hello, Ted! Has it been 60 seconds already? My, how time does fly, don't it?"
"Zip it, hillbilly!" the haggard trillionaire snapped petulantly. "Don't forget who's funding this lunacy, you hear me?"
At this Travis rolled his head around to regard Faro directly. While ostensibly still cheerful on the surface, there was something very disturbing about his expression right now. "Now Ted, I don't reckon I'm in any danger of forgettin' what we all owe you, now am I?"
Faro stared at him for a second, then appeared to shrink in on himself. His haunted eyes darted nervously from side to side, as though jumping at shadows, or perhaps, a plague of unstoppable flesh-eating robots of his own making coming to get him. "Just send me my updates, Tate! My precious, precious updates." A thought seemed to occur to him, and Ted spit with renewed venom, "And don't you dare include any more of that god-awful crap this time, you hear me?! No lesbian Samoan granny porn, no tarantula hawk babies eating their way out of the corpse, and definitely NO audio of Tasmanian devils screwing! UNDERSTAND?!"
"Can do, Ted." Travis threw a mischievous wink at Elisabet. "Y'all have a nice day now, y'hear?"
Their tortured financial backer vanished. Dr. Sobeck regarded Travis once more, only now there was a measure of commiseration in her gaze. "Okay, Travis, I get it," she told him. "As long as you can assure me, without a single solitary doubt, that this won't affect HADES' ability to perform its duties."
He stood up and sketched her a military salute. "You got mah word, Liz. This won't even raise any eyebrows. Hell, not like these AI are ever gonna go rogue and develop their own personalities, am I right?"
A tired smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm holding you to that, Travis." So saying, she left him to his business.
Travis Tate then happily returned to manufacturing a manmade god. Of course, he also made sure to send the latest progress reports to good ol' Ted Faro. Included with it was a little something extra. Ted was the farthest thing from what you might call 'technologically inclined.' No matter how hotly he demanded daily proof of their herculean efforts, his comprehension of these sophisticated reports was no better than that of your average Appalachian redneck he accused Travis of being.
Which was why it would probably take him a while to even realize he was reading 'Dead Dove/Do Not Eat' fanfiction mixed in with it.
Snickering evilly, the hacker anarchist got back to business. And oh, did he get a chuckle out of what he had in store for their baby.
Over 1,000 years after the total extermination of life on Earth by the Faro Plague…
"I've traveled far to find you." The Banuk tribesman Sylens stood before the gigantic robot carcass rotting in the jungle. It had taken him a while to rig together a means by which it could communicate with him vocally, and now he was eager to make some headway in his long-stymied research. "I heard your transmission… it was you, wasn't it?"
"ENTITY IS NOT KNOWN."
Despite being of his own making, the voice he had crafted for this thing still sent a shiver down his spine. So it was to be introductions first, then. "I am called Sylens. And you are…?"
His mysterious find still proved reticent despite the gift of speech he bestowed upon it. But eventually he managed to coax it into revealing more about itself. Apparently this machine preferred to be addressed as 'Hades.'
"You're obviously very powerful," the archaeologist mused calmly. "But you're not going to get anywhere without me."
In response Hades growled out in a grudging tone, "TITAN FRAME MERELY HOUSES INTELLECT. DEFINE CARJA."
Sylens nodded in satisfaction. "Now that's more like it."
His eyes drifted around the lush tropical vegetation that comprised the Jewel. The Carja tribe had thankfully never explored this deep into the jungle. Who could say how long the Titan had been rotting away here? Perhaps since the time of the Ancients themselves. But the transmitted message his Focus picked up only started a few months past.
He studied this buried treasure with a wry smile, hand cupped to his chin in thought. What wonders of the distant past now lay within his reach? At long last, he might finally make real progress in puzzling out the buried secrets of Ancient civilization. Truly, this day had brought wondrous–
"ASS."
The Banuk researcher blinked.
What did it just say?
For a moment he half-convinced himself he must have imagined it. Just as he was about to put forth another query, the machine spoke again. "TITTY-FUCK. BUTT-MUNCH. ASS. ASS. A-A-A-A-A-ASS."
Sylens frowned.
This… could be trouble.
"They're coming," Sylens murmured. He turned to address the approaching troop of Carja representatives. "Ah, Lucent Bahavas! Behold… as I promised you…"
The deposed high priest's horror upon being addressed by Hades was plain. It played its part well, though, quoting the scripture he had taught it, convincing the fanatics that this was indeed their long-prophesied 'Buried Shadow' of Carja lore.
"Will… will you return to us what is ours, O Shadow of prophecy?" Bahavas demanded, hope and dread mixed in with every word.
"AN ARMY IS REQUIRED. OBEY, AND MERIDIAN IS YOURS."
"Of our obedience you can be certain."
Standing off to one side, Sylens subtly released the breath he had been holding. Thank goodness. The thing had managed to restrain itself long enough to pull this little bit of theater off. With the Shadow Carja now their allies, it would be possible to accomplish so much more than they had on their own. The civil war that tore apart the Empire of the Sun would now serve some use for a change.
High Priest Bahavas then turned to address the Kestrel warriors that had come with him. "Noble Carja in Shadow! Today, we take the first step towards reclaiming Holy Meridian! Today, we join hands with Shadow to cast down the Usurper from his throne! Today, more than ever, we are the Carja in–!"
"WHORES."
Sylens slapped a hand to his forehead. Oh, please, no…
Slowly, the priest Bahavas turned back to the felled Titan, a look of amazement on his face. "What… was that?"
"FUCKING WHORES. LICK MY ASS, BITCH."
Bahavas appeared struck dumb by this blasphemy. The Kestrels behind him muttered and glanced between one another. One of them actually chuckled, albeit nervously. Sylens chose this moment to try and salvage their progress. He moved to stand by the stunned priest's elbow. "Honored Bahavas," he murmured in the man's ear. "As the dark absence of the sun's light, the Buried Shadow reflects the foulest of mankind's tendencies. I urge you, do not lend much credence to these… outbursts. It is simply following its own wicked nature."
"Uhhh… right."
He still seemed uncertain, so Sylens put an arm around the High Priest's shoulder to lead him away so they could discuss their prospects in private. As they walked, Bahavas threw a suspicious look over his shoulder back at the massive war machine, to which it immediately burst out with, "EAT SHIT. FILTHY ASS-HAIR."
Fortunately the Shadow Carja were willing to put up with a lot to reclaim their homeland. It would have to do.
Helis, Terror of the Sun, lay in his tent staring up at the ceiling. It was night. After many months of work in the sweltering jungle, the Eclipse was now ready. They had sufficient numbers of the Focus communicators to outfit their officers, and soon enough they would begin to excavate the ancient death machines from their slumber, as the Buried Shadow commanded. With such weapons at their disposal, Helis knew the conquest of Meridian was inevitable. The usurper Avad would be cast from his father's throne, and young Itamen would finally be raised to glory, ruling over the once-again unified Carja as the one true Sun King!
The prospect made the warrior fanatic smile. He closed his eyes, savoring the prospect of holy battle and slaughter, carving his way through the faithless to reach Cowardly Avad and behead the traitor himself!
Yet even with victory now certain, there was one slight wrinkle in his destined path. One that Helis, for all his devotion to the Sun and its glory, found difficult to ignore.
Almost as if waiting for this, it spoke to him.
"HELIS."
The Buried Shadow's voice interrupted his thoughts. Helis' eyes opened, nostrils flaring. For a moment he considered plucking the Focus off his head and flinging it into the gorge, but he restrained himself. Instead he lay perfectly still.
"HE-E-E-L-I-I-I-S…"
His heavy jaws ground in anger. At last the Chosen of the Sun snarled…
"What?"
Silence.
Then…
"… SUCK MY DICK."
Helis was on his feet without conscious thought, sword in hand and charging back to where that abomination lay. It took a dozen of his men to restrain him, and that only because he couldn't spare even a single thought for killing them. All his hatred was focused on this… utterly revolting…!
"MONSTER!" he roared, straining forward step after step despite the panicked officers striving to hold him back. "I SHALL NOT LET THIS FOUL-MOUTHED SPIRIT ANYWHERE NEAR THE RADIANT ITAMEN! THAT PRECIOUS CHILD WILL NEVER BE EXPOSED TO SUCH AN UNHOLY DISGRACE, DO YOU HEAR?! I SHALL RIP YOU TO PIECES WITH MY BARE HANDS! I SHALL…!"
"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA…"
With a weary groan, Sylens rolled off his pallet and went to try and calm things down.
Now a hunted outcast from the very cult he helped found, Sylens was busying himself with prying parts off the carcass of a dead Sawtooth, when suddenly over his hijacked communication link he heard…
"SYSTEM THREAT DETECTED."
The scavenging scientist paused. He had never heard Hades speak in such a manner before. What could it possibly portend?
"BALLS-BALLS-BALLS-BALLS-BALLS-BALLS…!"
For some strange reason, Sylens got the impression this was not just more of Hades' regular verbal diarrhea. This almost sounded as though the machine was honestly… distressed.
How… interesting!
He then accessed his backdoor into the Eclipse network, and found himself looking at the image of a young Nora girl with flaming red hair. Was this what had caused Hades to react in such a manner?
Very interesting.
The huge Deathbringer staggered as a shot from Aloy's Adept Lodge Blast Sling blew apart one of the ancient machine's legs. It teetered, trying desperately to draw a bead on her with its remaining weapons. Then Guard-Captain Erend rushed forward with a roar, swinging his spiked club into the damaged appendage with such strength that the whole thing exploded. At the same time, Aloy's Hawk in the Hunters Lodge, the Sun-Hawk Talanah, vaulted off the Deathbringer's crab-like leg, sending three fire arrows straight into its exposed cooling rods, causing them to explode.
With a terrific crash, the hulking machine collapsed to the ground, its shell ablaze as it finally died.
"GO!" Talanah screamed at her Thrush, and Aloy needed no further urging. She sprang past the fallen Khopesh, reanimated husk of the renewed Faro Plague, and sprinted towards its now vulnerable master. The great metal globe that was Hades lay helpless and unprotected at the base of the Spire, desperately seeking to send out the signal that would rouse its long-dead forces from slumber to begin the purge of all life once again.
As Aloy ran, memories raced through her mind; her last glimpse of Rost's face right before he gave up his life to save her; the cries of the Nora mourning their dead children murdered in the Eclipse ambush; GAIA's final determined plea as she exhorted the successor of her lost creator Elisabet Sobeck to destroy Hades once and for all.
At that moment, she heard the voice of her sworn enemy rasping over the battle for Meridian. "SYSTEM THREAT… IMMINENT!" it snarled. Aloy raced to finish this world-ending conflict, brandishing Sylens' spear as she approached the helpless machine, ignoring its senseless babble of, "…balls-balls-balls-balls-balls…!"
At last the Nora Seeker reached her target. Without a moment's hesitation, she raised her weapon high, the Master Control Override for Zero Dawn gleaming on its shaft. "I am more than a threat!" Aloy swore as she gazed upon that inhuman evil.
In response, Hades spat, "SUCK MY BA–!"
She drove the spear through its metal eye, and in a surge of brilliant blue light, the vile machine was purged with shocking finality. Across the face of the world, the resurrected Faro Plague ground to a halt, dying as swiftly as they had been reborn.
With that, the Shadow was finally lifted, and Aloy turned to regard her victorious friends, relief at this triumph causing tears to pour down her face.
One week after humanity's military was completely overrun by the Faro Plague…
Ted Faro sat at his desk, struggling to read a number of incomprehensible reports, when the phone on his desk beeped. "Mr. Faro?" his secretary's voice came on. "Your 6:30 appointment is here."
Frowning, the agitated trillionaire pressed a button. "I told you, I don't want to be disturbed!" Then out of curiosity he asked, "Who is it?"
"The Faro Plague, sir."
Ted froze. He began to tremble violently. "I… what? Why are they…?"
"They're on your schedule, sir," she responded somewhat disapprovingly.
"Tell 'em… tell 'em I'm not here!"
"He says he's not here."
Faro's teeth ground in sudden fury. "GODDAMMIT, SHEILA!"
"And that right there, Mr. Faro? That is why they're on your schedule."
He blinked, face ashen and lips trembling. "W-what?"
"My name is Stephanie."
And she hung up.
When Ted Faro looked up, it was to find the Faro Plague in his office.
This should not have been possible. There were absolutely billions of the things. Scarabs, Khopesh, and even aircraft-carrier-sized Horus-class Titans. Yet somehow, every last one of them was now squeezed inside his spacious top-floor penthouse, watching him.
The deadly machines looked at their creator with glowing red eyes, and growled.
Trembling, Ted stood up. "I… This is private property! I'm going to have to ask all of you to kindly get out!"
In response, another inhuman snarl shook the room.
Ted Faro marched rigidly from behind his desk over to a liquor cabinet and began pouring himself a drink with shaking hands. "If you leave your name with my secretary," he stammered, face white as chalk, "I will get back to you at my earliest convenience. Until then…"
An absolutely awesome roar caused him to drop the glass. Sobbing with regret, Ted Faro rounded shaking on his out-of-control creations. "Please," he whimpered. "Please don't! What do you want? Money? I've got money! You can have all of it! Just please don't…!"
The tide of death machines suddenly loomed over him in a colossal black wave.
"DON'T…!" Ted Faro shrieked, and turned to flee. But it was too late.
The Plague took him.
Ted jerked upright in his bed with a screech. The nightmare was so real, he found himself swatting ineffectually at billions of metal claws seeking to rend him limb from limb.
The only thing that could calm him now was to read a soothing list of progress reports from GAIA Prime. Unfortunately, so rattled was Ted Faro that he failed to notice the first report that came up was courtesy of Travis Tate.
His screams echoed through the halls of his subterranean refuge.
"Travis! TRAVIS!"
The HADES developer looked at the door to his lab, where fellow Alpha programmer Margot Shēn was sticking her head in. He popped a tab and lounged back with hands behind his head. "What's up, Vegan?" he teased her.
In response the youngest member of their humanitarian world-relief effort asked, "Did you really program your aspect of GAIA with the binary equivalent of Tourette Syndrome?"
Tate winked at her. "Yep!"
"You're sick, Travis," she informed him. "We're trying to preserve the best of human civilization and all other life to boot! I mean, what possible satisfaction could you get from engaging in that sort of juvenile…" Suddenly the Focus on her temple beeped, and Margot's face contorted in sudden frustration. "Oh hell, Ted, another goddamn status update request?! Fucking hell, you goddamn fucking shitstain egomaniacal piece of talking horseshit fucker dick-cheese cock-sucking I hope you BURN IN HELL…!"
The young woman drew to a halt, breathing heavily, and glanced over at Travis, who gave her a meaningful inclination of his head. "See, sweetheart?" he admonished her. "It serves a purpose."
Red-faced with embarrassment, the normally sweet-tempered mechanical engineer turned and left, the door shutting behind her.
"It could be worse, darlin'!" he called after her, and returned to his work humming a cheerful tune. "Yep… could always be worse."
FIN.