Falling through nighttime. That's what Booker felt, and then landed hard on...a giant airship? His armour, serving as a metal shell over padding, helped absorb some falling damage. The craft was quite gigantic, and had some sort of platform atop it with Sky-Lines and a mezzanine-like extension beneath them. Picking himself up, Booker turned around, seeing some sort of electrical, glowing machine.
Harsh tuning and static noises reverberated throughout his skull, causing blood to leak out his nose. He wiped the blood off, looked at his fingers for a second, then at the glowing machine.
"A generator? Wait, what about the...Siphon?" Booker mumbled to himself, not sure what was going on. He did not know why, but he knew that there was something called the Siphon. A rush of memories swarmed in his head, confusing him. After all, how often did people suddenly warp to the last level from the beginning?
Booker looked up, seeing a big black-and-white picture of some Narcissistic-looking middle-aged woman at the top of the zeppelin. The text above read Virgo Sponsa Dei. Below read Infandum, Regina, jubes Renovare Dolorem.
"Lady Comstock? Huh... Well, at least we're back in Columbia," Booker said to himself. "Elizabeth? Elizabeth!" Booker called, but could not see Songbird anywhere. "Aw, shhhit... That buzzard must have taken her away somewhere. Dammit!" he cursed, then looked to the side, seeing Eleanor land on her feet like a cat.
"Oh, hello!" Eleanor chirped, then the two looked up.
The blackness of the sky was, well, quite black, not even starlight visible. In fact, the entirety of the night sky seemed to be smouldering blackness, similarly to the black sun they had witnessed in the previous world.
"Well, that's different," Booker mumbled.
"Huh. It is."
The two then looked off to the side, seeing skyscrapers far away.
"That looks like..." Booker said slowly.
"New York," Eleanor answered.
"No, it can't be. It's way too gigantic. New York was never that big."
"Then how do you explain the Statue of Liberty?" Eleanor suggested.
"Well, wait... No, then... This isn't the world I came from," Booker said, thinking of his conversations with Elizabeth. "But then, why is Columbia here?"
"Columbia?"
"All these airships, they make up a flying city. Comstock called it Columbia."
"You mean these giant zeppelins?" Eleanor asked, Booker nodded. She never heard of Columbia as a flying city, but British Columbia and Colombia came to mind. Columbia took her by surprise. "Huh. I wonder what's going on?"
"...But what about the strange night sky? It looks like black fire," a man mumbled from the darkness, clearly spooked.
"Must be what the Sainted Lady spoke of. Do not fear anything, our souls are ready." another man said.
Eleanor and Booker looked at the other side. They were approached by several soldiers wearing thickly padded blue uniforms, steel helmets, and rather modern-looking weapons. A few of them wore goggles, bullet belts, or thicker armour. One of the men wore a black robe, the hood pointed and having cut eye-holes. Dangling over his chest was a sword-like crucifix, and hanging down his back, a coffin?
"I'm Eleanor, we don't want any trouble," Eleanor said, the soldiers not alarmed. She looked at Booker, who had a stern face, as if wondering if he should attack or not.
"Who are you? How did you get here? Were you born from the Sodom Below?" one of the soldiers asked.
"What? No, I was born in Rapture, a city at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean," Eleanor answered, and all of a sudden, the soldiers stared at her not knowing what to say.
Before Eleanor or Booker could say anything else, they heard crows cawing and flapping. The robed man suddenly reappeared beside Booker, grabbing his right arm and pulling the gauntlet off.
"The False Shepard has returned! Kill them!" the robed man screamed, unsheathing a sword and then unleashing a flock of angry crows at Eleanor and Booker. Booker ripped his arm free of the Zealot's grip, withdrawing his Sky-Hook from his belt, quickly slipping it over his right hand, and striking the incoming sword aside. He then rammed the Sky-Hook into the Zealot's neck, the little machine wheezing, and cracking the Zealot's neck.
Reacting quickly herself, Eleanor unleashed a telekinesis burst, throwing the soldiers off their feet, feeling crows pecking and clawing her scalp. She growled, releasing another wave of psychokinesis and hurling the birds away. As the soldiers picked themselves, Eleanor unleashed another telekinetic burst upon them, causing them to fly down the deck with such force they lost their firearms.
A few zeppelins pointed spotlights upon Eleanor and Booker, somehow realizing the danger. Some sort of PA honked aloud.
"Intruders spotted on the Hand of the Prophet! All gunships, reinforce the flagship!" the PA boomed, the voice of a man.
"Looks like I'm not done with Columbia yet!" Booker exclaimed, unslinging his carbine and reloading it, watching as a few super gunships flew towards the giant zeppelin he stood on. The sounds of heavy footfall echoed from below as well; many personnel were running towards the deck.
"Seems like we both have a knack for getting into trouble!" Eleanor exclaimed, already hearing gunfire echoing in the skies. She went to work, unleashing explosive fireballs akin to the Plasmids of Big Sisters at the super gunships, Booker also shooting at his attackers, the two causing havoc amongst the onboard soldiery!
Back in New York, Elizabeth awoke in her suite at one of the top floors in Hotel Pennsylvania, sitting up in her bed with a gasp. Her hair was messy. She flipped the blankets off and swung her legs over, then paused, feeling her heart pounding. She just wore a bra and panties, too lazy to have changed into pyjamas. Elizabeth inhaled, paused, then slowly exhaled, calming down. Her head and shoulders dropped, and she placed a hand on her forehead.
"Still having nightmares about Songbird?" she whispered to herself with a chuckle, then plopped back into bed, and fell back asleep. A few seconds later, she awoke to her radio clock, red numbers flashing 2:15 AM.
"Uhh...already?" she groaned, rolling over and extending a sleepy arm towards the clock, inadvertently knocking over a bottle of cognac from the nightstand. Just as it seemed she would switch the clock off, she instead grabbed a pack of cigs, accidentally knocking the clock over in the process. The clock hit the floor, landing beside the fallen cognac bottle, and continued wailing like a mechanical baby.
Putting a cigarette in her lips, Elizabeth sat up again, looking for her lighter. Elizabeth's hands shook as she flicked her lighter alight, desperately wanting to satisfy her cravings. She inhaled as she tried to light her cigarette, her shaking hands making everything worse. After a few seconds, she finally managed to light her cig, and promptly consumed a mouthful of smoking nicotine. Even after exhaling the smoke, her hand tremors remained, as did the screaming clock. She threw it at the wall, unplugging midair.
"Let me smoke in peace..." Elizabeth muttered. She took her cig out, then pawed for her bottle of cognac. Raising it to her lips, she waited until some creamy drops fell. A few drops of alcohol was better than nothing.
Once her smoke was halfway done, Elizabeth headed to the bathroom. She put her shaky hands on the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Sleepy face, wrinkles due to narrowing blood vessels, eye bags, dark circles, depression, anxiety...
Terrible.
Her eyes and chin lowered. She looked down at her pretty little arms, seeing the sore red marks at the inside of her wrist and elbow, the injuries of her personal battles. She looked away from the mirror, staring at her little friends on the side of the sink: an arm strap, a needle, a powdered spoon, a little bag...
The urge came. She went to grab the little bag, but accidentally knocked it over. She gasped as the little bag fell down, hitting the floor and spilling a handful of white powder.
"Aw, dammit!" Elizabeth growled, cigarette falling out her mouth, "Aw, fuck!"
She bent over to start tidying up the little mess, face locked on a scowl. She grinded her teeth together so much her jaw hurt. She did what she could to sweep the powder back into the bag, but most of the contents just didn't listen. When she lifted her head, she hit it against the sink, and dropped the bag.
"Ahh!" Elizabeth growled through clenched teeth, her eyes and fists shut tight. Rubbing the back of her head, she bent over again to salvage what she could of her second little accident. She then paused, and realized something.
I'm clawing at a bathroom floor for cocaine I spilt... Elizabeth thought to herself, and that really hurt her. Her heart skipped a beat. She shut her eyes tightly and furrowed her eyebrows. But, the heat and pain in her eyes came. Hot tears trickled down her face.
Elizabeth sniffled. She did not know why, but this was her lowest moment, and it hurt. She felt more pathetic now than when Comstock's doctors tortured her. Even abandoning Sally was easier than this.
Because it's easier to be a fucking bitch. She picked up her cigarette, slowly stood up. She just stared at herself in the mirror, face red, eyes redder, tears leaking.
"What did I turn myself into?" Elizabeth softly asked herself, and again paused for a couple seconds. She did not like what she had become. She smoked her cigarette, but the nicotine did nothing.
Elizabeth's head and shoulders dropped. She felt her short cigarette smoke up her face. She tossed her cig into the toilet, then in a fit of anger, smacked the needle and spoon away, hearing them fall into the bathtub. She washed her face, and took another look at herself in the mirror.
Still terrible.
But still gorgeous, too. That thought made her feel better, and despite a teary face, she chuckled at herself. Even though her face was not as pretty as it used to be, she was still gorgeous, right? She made a little smile while thinking about herself. Time for another cigarette, then!
After using the bathroom and getting mostly dressed, Elizabeth fetched her second cig for the morning. She began buttoning up her shirt while heading to the window. She opened it up, inhaling a mouthful of smoke, then looked down to finish buttoning up her shirt. Looking out the window again, she paused, eyes widening, mouth opening, cigarette falling out. A big fiery rocket was flying from the sky, and heading straight towards her.
Elizabeth dove to the side, hearing the rocket slam into her suite with a mighty explosion. As the dust and debris settled, Elizabeth got up, covered with dust, and looked out the hole in the wall. She saw silhouettes of giant airships in the night sky, and weirder than that, the night sky appeared like smouldering blackness. The echoes of rocketry and naval guns thundered throughout the skies. Columbia began its bombardment of New York, various skyscrapers soon flaming and smoking.
Elizabeth quickly ran to the closet, checking her coat, seeing her holstered revolver hanging from the closet as well. She put her holstered revolver on her belt, then put her coat on, hiding her gun beneath it. She then quickly fetched her pack of cigs, putting it and the lighter in her pockets. Can't forget cigarettes, anything else?
"It seems you better hurry..." a man advised, causing Elizabeth to pause.
Elizabeth slowly turned her head. There he stood, arms somewhat spread apart but bent at the elbows, palms bored and revealing bones and tendons, eye sockets empty and bleeding...
"Nyeh heh-heh-heh-heh heh heh heh hehh hehhh!" Michael cackled.
Rather spooked, Elizabeth unlocked her door and burst out the room. She ran down the hallway as fast as she could, no easy task in a mini skirt and high-heels! She could hear the many guests of the hotel already panicking at what was going on.
Heart racing, and feeling the very building rumble, Elizabeth ran down the stairs. The echoes of cityscape-wide panic and bombardment became louder and louder, and occasionally, something exploded against Hotel Pennsylvania.
As she descended in fear and uncertainty, Elizabeth saw Michael again, leaning against the wall casually, his arms crossed. He lifted his chin and gave Elizabeth an eyeless stare, then grinned, blood leaking in-between his teeth.
"Next time, consider renting a room at a lower floor, maybe?" Michael suggested as Elizabeth ran past him.
Eventually, more and more guests decided to ditch their rooms and flee. Unsurprisingly, the elevators were busy. Elizabeth did not even bother trying to use them, sticking to the stairs as the building shook more and more. After an explosion, she heard a group of people scream as their elevator malfunctioned and plummeted down the shaft.
Elizabeth felt her heart rise to her throat. More and more people began screaming, becoming almost as loud as the bombardment. She continued her descent, and saw Michael again, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, again, but again, she ignored him. It was not long until she saw him, yet again, his eyeless stare following her.
"...Drown in flame the mountains of Man..."
Elizabeth scowled at him, even though he could not see her. She continued her race down the hotel, and saw him again.
"Some men dream of money," Michael said as Elizabeth ran past him.
A while later, he saw him, yet again.
"Some men dream of love."
She didn't listen, she kept going. No matter how loud the panic became, Elizabeth could always hear him just fine. As she ran down the hotel more and more, she routinely saw Michael here and there.
"Your father dreamt of a flood of fire, a rapture from the baptism of flames..."
"Given Eden, turned into Sodom... Unworthy of salvation or utopia...blah, blah, blah..."
"Adonai allowed Noah to build a boat to survive a flood."
"But what does He give to survive fire?"
"Perhaps you must become a burning bush that does not succumb to its own flames?"
"After all, you could see all that would be..."
"You really were greater than your father in this case, unsurprisingly!"
"He wanted to see you rapture to your potential, your fate..."
"But when he realized his mistakes, he never wanted you to be like him, did he?"
"Suffering, either physical or psychological, truly destroys hope, hmm?"
"But suffering is its own baptism and its own rapture, isn't it?"
"And when this world is baptized..."
"Well, let's just say that it is one world out of millions."
"Truly I tell you, Elizabeth, this is the last world you belong in that awaits such baptism."
"Tomorrow, the leash comes off..."
"And Enigma shall be the rapture from the baptism of this last world..."
Elizabeth felt the hotel breaking apart. She could see the exit up ahead, streets outside a fiery mess of burning vehicles and fleeing people. A crowd of guests had formed, falling over each other, crushing each other, and so blocking the exit in their panic. Elizabeth thumped to a halt; there was no way out through so many bodies. Elizabeth looked up, seeing the ceiling crack open and collapse. People everywhere screaming as tonnes of concrete came crashing down.
The collapsing building crushed hundreds of people, then flowed out onto the streets, raining debris upon cars and fleeing people. After a few seconds, a Tear appeared, and Elizabeth jumped out. Brushing herself off, she made her way over the debris, quite frightened, but alive.
She looked up, seeing the zeppelin flotilla high in the night sky, raining fiery death upon New York. Her area was hit especially hard, a majority of the flotilla targetting Manhattan.
To make things worse, the night sky unfurled with electric chaos. The smouldering blackness created thunder and bolts of lightning, reminding Elizabeth of when... When she waited for Booker to rescue her. At that thought, she stopped moving. Amidst chaos, Elizabeth just thought of her memories. Throwing Salts, guns, bandages and ammo to Booker, flipping coins to him, talking to him about Dimwit and Duke, imagining him on the carousel, baptizing him... Such memories caused Elizabeth's head and shoulders to drop.
"B-B-Booker... I-I-I h-have to g-g-go b-back to him. He's still my only...hope..." Elizabeth whimpered, finding it hard to admit that fact. She looked back up at the aerial bombardment, and realized something. "I... I am not afraid... Okay, let's do this, all over again," she said to herself, finding courage.
"Please, work, please... Just one more time, please..." She grasped at the air, and pulled it apart. She smiled as another Tear formed. It would take her to the Pinkerton compound in northern Manhattan.
Elizabeth reappeared in a hallway of containment cells, where experiments of 'lab rats' took place. To her surprise, everything was empty, looking like a riot had broken through. Bewildered, Elizabeth carefully walked down the hallway. She withdrew her big, shiny revolver, holding it in both hands.
"What happened? Doesn't look like Columbia blasted it open yet..." Elizabeth whispered to herself. She checked the area, seeing the various medical equipment, reminding her of the tortures she had to endure. Unpleasant memories for sure.
She saw a static Tear near one of the seats, and approached it. She listened, and looked. The Tear revealed Zachary, strapped to a chair, with doctors performing various medical tests on him.
The Tear revealed other phases of the operations. The doctors took his blood, and studied his genes with telescopes and computers. He was always conscious, treated like a bag of meat to test on. He looked uncomfortable, but took everything with a straight face.
Elizabeth walked on, until she saw another Tear. It revealed Elizabeth standing by and watching the experiments. The experimentation was not too severe, but Zachary was hooked up to various equipment, arms and neck covered with needles. Whenever he tried to move, he felt needles tug at his skin or poke deeper into him.
"Remember, Comstock, this isn't even half of what you did to me," Elizabeth said back then. "But when you lose a lot of blood, you'll know how much it hurts. You won't sleep, you'll sit there in pain, exhausted and wrecked... Your entire body will be numb from needles sucking you dry."
Elizabeth's eyes lowered. She holstered her gun, then crossed her arms.
The next scene, "...Yes, the genetic recoding has partly worked. EVE has been imprinted into his genes. His body can now slowly regenerate EVE, and generate ADAM on his own, too," one doctor said.
"Good. He will need ADAM to survive, and stay normal, but overdosing will deform him. This is how we will keep him under control. If he runs off, his body will produce more and more ADAM until he overdoses constantly. He'll have no choice but to return to us and get some needles, otherwise deform into a Splicer. When we're done with him, we can let him overdose," Elizabeth said back then, and walked to Zachary's side. "Hear that, Comstock? One day, you will look like someone who's had his rotten face rubbed by a cheese grater. I can't wait to see the look in your eyes. You'll be viewed as a disgusting monster no one will want to be around."
Elizabeth's own wrinkling face came to mind, her own addictions...
Next scene, "...The new genetic information can be replicated and then processed with his ADAM into injectable serums. We can implement his supernatural abilities into other patients, but without adequately available EVE, their Plasmids will be of limited use. So far, only his body can regenerate EVE consistently. We will be experimenting with volunteers," a doctor spoke, and Elizabeth appeared in the Tear, smoking.
"Good; Tenenbaum would be proud. We will have to drain his ADAM and EVE to supply Plasmid use of our agents, but that's a good thing. Don't worry about lack of EVE availability, he's a good lab rat, we have nothing but time and hope. So long as his body produces blood with ADAM and EVE, he'll be sucked dry," Elizabeth mocked, giving Comstock's numb leg a little kick.
"Pinkerton's who are insubordinate or defected have also been drained of their ADAM. Some have died from blood loss, but Comstock remains alive. He's quite a hardy guy," another doctor remarked.
"Exactly! Don't worry, lab rat, we won't kill you, at least not yet. I'll just make sure you feel like you're dying all the time, without rest."
Listening to herself talking like that made Elizabeth feel like shit. She took another look, seeing how she sometimes gave Zachary needles, pushing them deeply into his veins until he groaned and grimaced. At times, she would smack him across the head, or point needles at his eyes, and talking about what he did to her.
Elizabeth could not watch any longer, and walked away. As she explored, she occasionally saw dead Pinkerton's here and there, shot, but many were beaten into a bloody pulp. Some agents had their skulls busted open, brains smeared on the floor. Soon, she saw many more dead people, mostly rugged men in worker's clothing but some wore suits. Guns, blood and bullet holes were everywhere. The use of Plasmids was also evident.
Elizabeth then heard footfall, so stopped. She listened carefully, sliding her back against a wall.
"...I t'ink dat be aw' a' dem. Dey didn't see us comin'! Heh heh!" a man said, having an Irish accent.
"It ain't a serious problem now, doh, wiht dem floi'in t'ings shootin' deh city," another said.
"Woh'ever, we'll shoot 'em good, too, just ya see."
"On de ground? Dey got frickin' artilry!"
"I ain't scared a no artilry. Just ya wait, sometihn be happenin'!"
"Like wha? A bunch o' Irish folk appear in deh sky 'n help us?"
"Yeah, sometihn like dat."
"Just make sure dese cohnts r' dead n' foind anyone dat still be aloive. Dey took Lamb like an animol, n' we showed em. Shot 'em up like a bunch a bitches."
"Ha! Not even deh government be messin' wiht us Irish!"
"Eh? Deh Pinkerton's ain't government, dey be a proivate t'hing."
"Wha'ever."
Hunh, I guess Sofia Lamb really did have a dangerous cult going on... Must have been part of the Irish Mob. They would have lost lots of men storming the compound against private security and Plasmids. I hope I can still find Coms-...Booker...
The footfall headed for Elizabeth's direction. It was only a matter of seconds before the group of mobsters reached the conjunction of hallways.
"Well, here goes nothing..." Elizabeth whispered, then took a breath, holstering her revolver. "Hello? Anyone there?" Elizabeth called innocently. Since she was covered with dust, chances are the Irishmen would not take her for a Pinkerton. So long as she kept her wallet closed and in her jacket...
"Eh? What dat?" one of the mobsters called, so Elizabeth jogged to meet them down the hall. She put on her best scared face, making her eyes big and keeping her lips parted.
"I... I just got out of m-my c-cell. I kept my head low until the gunshots stopped."
The mobsters looked at her without much emotion, something between not caring and not believing her.
"Wha a lady be doin' 'ere?"
"Oh, I, uh... The Pinkerton's captured me. Wanted to interrogate me, because they already captured my father. His name's Zachary Comstock, I think he and Sofia Lamb are together. Please, you gotta take me to my father. I'm Elizabeth Comstock, he needs to know I'm alive," Elizabeth explained. The mobsters' expression changed quickly.
"Oh? Yer Sofia's man's girl? Speak o' deh devil."
"I t'hink he was sayin' sometihn 'bout a Elizabeth. He sure did good killin' dem bitches, we probably wouldn't have rescued Sofia were it not fer him. Doh, he wasn't all dat happy mentionin' dis Elizabeth."
"Yeah, we...got into a big fight. Family problems. Now there's big ships blowing the city up," Elizabeth said.
"Ye, whole world's gone mad. Good t'hing we found ya, den. We'll take ye to 'im, den get out a' dis city."
"Oh, thank God, thank you."
I hope Booker won't kill me... Well, time for a leap of faith...
Elizabeth followed her guides through the Pinkerton compound, the echoes of chaos sometimes shaking the facility up a bit. The intercoms ringed awake.
"Look around, my friends. See how the gene corrupts us? See how this private organization failed in the great chain of progress? See how so easily it snapped?" Sofia Lamb's voice spoke from the intercom. "See how tyranny corrupts us? But this tyranny brews in us all. Me must reject this inner tyranny, the notion of 'I, therefore I want.' This only leads to slavery and chaos. But the Pinkerton's are just one gene part of the constant tyrant. Look up above, see how self-worship drives whatever chaos came to us. This is a syndrome of constant dissatisfaction, always part of the tyrant. Each of us has the common duty for the common good, and against the common evil... That is our cause, that is our family, that is our rejection of sin. We are simply... The Family Reborn."
Elizabeth followed her guides as Sofia continued her strange sermon, a poetic exploration of how the gene is the enemy as it creates the tyrant.
Elizabeth saw wounded and dying mobsters here and there, all of them drinking heavily, but every Pinkerton and their co-workers were dead. Some mobsters desecrated corpses, using them as target practise. Elizabeth could only hope that some employees did not go to work, but if so, were probably killed by Columbia.
Columbia is destroying their city... and they're just drinking and killing?
Eventually, Elizabeth saw him. Her heart stopped and she felt cold. His face was red and swollen, clothes shot up and bloodied, forehead cut, white hair dashed with blood... But still the Booker she knew. Or, at least the Booker she hoped she knew was still there. She could only imagine how many Pinkerton's he killed when she was gone.
Zachary did not notice Elizabeth. He walked around, holding a pump-action shotgun in one hand, his Smith and Wesson Model 29-2 at his side. He was constantly scanning the area around him, some of his Irish rescuers giving him a weird look. Zachary had a mix of anger and guilt on his face, probably feeling some regret and irritation to have been rescued by the Irish. But, it was also a lesson on humility.
"Booker!" Elizabeth exclaimed lightly, running towards Zachary. At first, he did not react to his name, but once he heard footfall, he turned his head, seeing a dusty Elizabeth. He stared at her, stone-faced. She stopped before him, and suddenly became nervous. How angry would he be with her?
"It's Comstock, remember?" Zachary grumbled. "And what do you want? Did you seriously just throw yourself to the wolves? You'd have to be real foolish to just show yourself like this, especially now."
"Booker...I'm so glad we met, I thought I'd never find you. Were you looking for me?" Elizabeth said, tilting her head down diagonally, eyes up, and gesticulating with her arms like she used to back in Columbia. Zachary still looked like a gargoyle. He clearly was not happy. "Booker, we need to talk."
"Look, I don't know how or why Columbia is here. I thought I left it behind."
"So, you did bring back the Siphon. You bitch..." Elizabeth said slowly and angrily while raising her hands, then crossing her arms, glaring at Zachary. His eyebrows furrowed.
Well, she went back into bitch mode pretty quick... Zachary thought to himself.
"Like I said, Elizabeth, I don't know how or why Columbia is here. I thought I left it behind forever. If there's any constancy is this prophecy... I sure don't know how or why. You gotta believe me."
"It's not just that, Booker, it's..."
The two noticed various mobsters listening, or perhaps listening to Sofia Lamb's speech?
"Look, Elizabeth, you better leave before Sofia realizes you're here. Go on, we're done. I never saw you, just let go, you can go to Paris now," Zachary said, walking away. Elizabeth quickly walked after Booker, stepping in front of him and leaning into him. He stopped, the two keeping eye contact.
"Booker..." Elizabeth growled, eyes narrowing, and she leaned a bit more, fists clenching. But then, her arms and shoulders dropped, and she looked to the side, head low. She slowly looked back at Zachary, stroking hair above her ear. "If you really had nothing to do with this... Well... We both know I can't destroy the Siphon on my own."
The two remained silent for a few seconds.
"Let's go," Zachary said. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she followed Zachary.
"So, I was wrong. You really don't know anything about Columbia returning," Elizabeth remarked, then sighed. "Sorry, Booker. For the needles, my words, my abuse, and for...everything. And I..." she took a breath, "I forgive you, father. I'll let go, for you. I'll always forgive you, no matter how many times you hurt me...or when I hurt myself."
Zachary wanted to say something, but could not find the words. His breathing slowed, and a great weight rolled off his shoulders. He just put a hand on her shoulder. This time, she did not resist. Elizabeth suddenly embraced Zachary, and they stopped walking. Elizabeth rested her head against his chest.
"Uh-ihh...Elizabeth... Please, j-just..." Zachary mumbled, but Elizabeth wept into his shirt. He gently hugged her around the shoulders, comforting the woman who was, and was not, his daughter. He rested his cheek on her head, and they stayed like that for a while, feeling their troubled past melt away.
Once Elizabeth stopped crying, they slowly let go of each other. She wiped her eyes, then looked back at a pair of blue eyes like hers.
"We've got a Siphon to destroy, a big buzzard to deal with, and a flying city to put down. I'm on your side this time, child," Zachary spoke. She believed him.
"And this time, we'll finish it, together...forever," Elizabeth said, and they continued walking towards the exit.
Two dozen mobsters followed Zachary and Elizabeth.
"Who else we gonna shoot, Zack?" one of the mobsters asked.
"For now, protect Sofia, make sure she gets out of here alive. Whatever you see in the skies shooting at the city, shoot back if you have to. The enemy will be soldiers in blue uniforms. I'm off to do what I can to bring the flotilla down," Zachary replied as they exited the building.
The parking lot was a mess, dead Pinkerton's and mobsters here and there. The chaos raining from the sky caused much mayhem, perhaps a fourth of Manhattan on fire, sirens and screaming echoing throughout the streets.
"An' how do ya plan gettin' up dere?" a mobster asked as thunder roared.
The weather was horrible. The thunder and lightning amplified, and snow flurried down as well. Thunder became so powerfully, the ground shook.
"With a song," Elizabeth answered, looking up in the sky.
"Singing? You sure it'll work with all the chaos around?" Zachary asked, but Elizabeth was confident.
"A song...with a leap of faith."
Elizabeth did not have any musical instruments, but she did have her voice. Cupping her mouth, she took a deep but gentle breath, and began singing a wordless song.
She steadily began singing the following notes: A, C, A, C, A, G, A, F, low C, F, G, A, G, F, C, A, C, A, C, A, G, A, F, low C, F, G, A, B flat, A, G, F.
Her voice echoed up the city, but how could anything hear it from all the chaos? As Elizabeth neared the end of the song, Zachary could see the silhouette of an old friend zigzagging in the sky. Just as Elizabeth reached the last four notes, powerful shrieking echoed throughout the skies, but she continued singing the last notes.
The mobsters became spooked as the otherworldly wailing intensified.
"Well, I'll be... He heard you," Zachary commented.
"Sometimes, all you need is a leap of faith," Elizabeth said. She then turned around to face the mobsters. "Don't shoot the giant bird!" she warned.
Songbird flew down powerfully, his presence causing the mobsters to back off. But, Elizabeth and Zachary stood idle, even as Songbird landed with a mighty crashed. Many mobsters got scared and ran for cover behind various cars.
Zachary almost expected Songbird to attack him. Songbird's eye beamed yellow, cocking his head side to side, as if confused. Eye turning green, Songbird gently presented his mighty paw, Elizabeth stepping forth, placing her hand on it.
"Comstock, too," she said softly to her guardian. The bird looked at Zachary, eyes turning yellow. The buzzard tilted his head acutely, as if thinking. Songbird gently tightened his grip around Elizabeth and Zachary, and flew off with them.
Meanwhile, up above, Eleanor and Booker stood their ground, taking cover here and there. Booker fired his carbine, but also swapped various weapons dropped by the many foes the two defeated. Eleanor relied on Plasmids, but like Booker, when able, she acquired firearms and used them.
Booker occasionally found Salts, and drank them. He cast Murder of Crows against multiple gunships, that would keep the soldiers distracted. Against Mosquitoes, accurate shots into their rotaries sent them plummeting to the earth. Eleanor also used her telekinesis to interrupt the rotaries of the Mosquitoes, disrupting them and sending them falling down.
Eleanor and Booker fired carbines at their foes, in gunships and on deck, but also tossed fiery Plasmids at the enemies who got too close. Booker's mix of Devil's Kiss traps and explosive masses worked very well with Eleanor's Big Sister fiery explosives. There was so much fire around them, many soldiers running onto the deck were forced to keep their distance. The flames blinded them partly as well.
The Security Zeppelins were the biggest threat, as Eleanor and Booker could only destroy their vessel's rocket launchers and propellers, but not much else. Eleanor would sometimes teleport into the zeppelins and kill their crews. Other times, she would hurl explosive fireballs at the zeppelin's propellers, destroying them, forcing the zeppelins to slowly glide only. She would then cast fiery Plasmids onto the wings, putting them on fire. Once a wing burned apart, the zeppelin gradually began crashing, sometimes smashing into other zeppelins or gunships.
"Rocket launcher!" Eleanor warned as several Beasts with explosives-launching weapons flew towards them on a gunship.
"Split up!" Booker shouted, running out of cover, his shields withstand fire as he picked off some foes with his carbine. Slipping on his Sky-Hook, he jumped onto the Sky-Line, then onto a gunship, smashing a soldier off it. As his shields began to break, he picked up a shotgun and blasted a few heads off.
Eleanor had teleported atop the gunship with the Beasts, who observed that Booker took out a gunship on his own. The Beasts did not notice Eleanor, and just as they fired rockets at Booker, Eleanor used her telekinesis to boomerang the rockets right back at the Beasts! This surprised them greatly, and they fell off their feet. Eleanor took the advantage, using her psychokinesis to pull their helmets off, then shot them all in their heads.
"For the glory of Columbia!" a Motorized Patriot shouted, running through the wall of flames and opening fire with his crank gun. Booker lept onto the Sky-Lines, firing back at the mechanical gunner, his shields being eaten away.
Casting Shock Jockey and electrocuting the Motorized Patriot, Booker then jumped off, landing atop the mechanical gunner. Ramming his shotgun into the opening containing gears, Booker fired into its interior, busting apart the machinery inside. It fell over, busted.
Booker fired his shotgun until it was out of ammo, then threw it at some soldiers, picked up the crank gun, and opened fire. He mowed down perhaps two dozen soldiers as they charged through the flames.
Once his crank gun was out of ammo, Booker heard heavy footfall, and three Motorized Patriots ran through the flames.
"Uhh...nuh-uh..." Booker mumbled, throwing down his crank gun, withdrawing a pistol and firing at them.
"Only the guilty flee before the Prophet's watchful eye!" one of the patriots shouted.
"Remember, False Shepard Booker DeWitt, your night of reckoning is nigh!" the other bellowed as Booker cast Possession on the third one, which immediately turned and opened fire at the two others.
Booker made a getaway via the Sky-Lines, two patriots shooting at him while the Possessed one fired at them. Booker's shields shattered, but bullets continued whizzing all around him. Soon, the two Motorized Patriots fired upon the Possessed one, gradually destroying it. The break in fire gave Booker some time, but carabiniers from the many gunships continued shooting at him.
Booker raised his legs as a rocket screeched towards him, passing in-between his legs.
"Oh, well that was close..." he remarked, jumping from section to section of Sky-Lines to evade more rockets of various sizes fired from Security Zeppelins, RPGs, and Volley Guns.
While Booker whizzed along the Sky-Lines, Eleanor was teleporting amongst the zeppelins, super gunships and regular gunships, unleashing her fiery Plasmids upon the crews, only to teleport elsewhere before they could react! Her constant use of sprinting, teleportation, fiery Plasmids, Electrobolt, and telekinetic bursts caused much mayhem for the crews, a portion blown off their ships and falling to their deaths into the flaming city below. Eleanor, undoubtedly, could put any Houdini Splicer to shame. Her overuse of Plasmids was quite draining, causing her to sweat profusely, head and body aching, but she pushed on.
"The demon moves quick! Keep firing!" a soldier advised, machine gun ripping as Eleanor sprinted and jumped off the super gunship. She teleported midair and reappeared on another gunship, and brought fiery death to the crew.
The PA boomed again.
"All ships, focus on the intruders! Cease bombardment of the Sodom Below, and wipe away the False Shepherd and his demonic companion!"
Eleanor took that as a compliment.
"Don't worry, I'll give you all a head start! Know that everything you did to the city, will happen to you!" Eleanor exclaimed, noticing that a flock of crows flew after her. She teleported to another gunship, one that she had already emptied, and the crows continued flying after her.
"The crows crave the flesh of the demon! Where you see crows, you will see the demon! Get spotlights onto the demon!" the PA advised.
Now, many more soldiery on deck and in gunships fired at Eleanor's general direction. Spotlights followed the crows and beamed after Eleanor. With so much attention drawn on her, Booker was given more time and safety, so he leapt onto the Hand of the Prophet, grabbed a sniper rifle, and began picking off distant foes.
The flames caused by Devil's Kiss and Eleanor's Plasmids remained, and rushing through them were several soldiers head-to-toe in mechanical armour mounted with boilers.
"Return to hell, False Shepherd!" one of them shouted, hurling Devil's Kisses at Booker. He grunted as he got burned, but continued the fight regardless.
"The world shall burn! And you shall blacken with it! Burn everything!" another screamed, throwing fiery projectiles at Booker. The other Firemen cast Devil's Kiss as well, forcing Booker to dart off. He dropped his sniper rifle and picked up a fallen machine gun, firing at the Firemen and then leaping onto the Sky-Lines again.
A Fireman leapt onto the Sky-Lines himself, the others hurling explosive fireballs at Booker but staying on deck. Booker zoomed along, casting Shock Jockey at the Fireman using the Sky-Lines, and then Booker swung his machine gun like a bat as he past him, striking the Fireman down to the earth.
"Death releases me from hell!" the Fireman screamed as he fell.
Booker wanted to cast Shock Jockey at the other Firemen, but he was out of Salts. For now, he could only fire back at other attackers and hope his limited shields stood strong.
Eleanor had noticed Booker's fiery predicament. She teleported behind the group of Firemen, and unleashed a furious electrobolt at them. The group of Firemen got electrified, screaming throughout their metal suits. She then targeted one FIreman, lifted him up with psykokinesis, and simply hurled him off the flagship. Down he fell.
A Fireman's suit made a high-pitched whirring sound, and he charged Eleanor.
"You will suffer, you bitch! Know how this suit feels!" the Fireman screamed, his suit gradually breaking apart and flames spewing out. Eleanor raised her carbine and opened fire, and he exploded, hurling Eleanor off her feet.
Immediately, crows swarmed Eleanor, but the Firemen's Devil's Kisses engulfed the feathery critters and they flicked about on fire. Eleanor got up and darted away, outrunning projectiles thrown at her. Booker landed next to her, reloading his machine gun and opening fire. Eleanor stood by him, reloading her carbine and firing at the charging Firemen.
Eleanor and Booker received some explosive damage, their clothes and skin darkening from soot, but they continued firing. Eleanor threw fiery projectiles back at the Firemen and electrobolts, while Booker found a small bottle of Salts and gulped it down.
"Don't just stand there! Get after them!" a soldier barked, and then dozens forced themselves through the flames and fired at the False Shepherd and his companion, a portion resulting in friendly fire on the Firemen. Their suits cracked open, spewing flames.
The charging Firemen's suits whirred and they ran with greater vigour.
"Last words: burn, broil and fry!"
"We all suffer! All punishments must be extreme!"
"No escape from hellfire!"
"Ashes to ashes, come back for me!"
"Teach them about fire, right Father?" Eleanor remarked as the suicidal Firemen approached their impending doom.
Booker, knowing her could not kill several Firemen quickly, cast Bucking Bronco, lifting the charging Firemen up. Eleanor then unleashed a powerful psychokinetic blast, hurling the levitated Firemen back into the soldiers! The ensuing fiery explosions ignited dozens of soldiers. Arms flailing and heads thrashing, the soldiers screamed their last breaths before inhaling smoke and fire, suffocating and burning.
Booker quickly reloaded his machine gun and sprayed bullets into the flaming soldiers, euthanizing them.
"Hey! I wanted to watch them die!" Eleanor somewhat protested, then she and Booker heard strange ripping echoing throughout the night sky.
They spun around, seeing what appeared to be a Tear taking up half the sky. Massive lightning bolts struck the edge of the Tear, and thunder reverberated wildly. The electrical chaos continued, and then more airships flew out the gigantic Tear, these donned in red drapes.
"The airships from the previous world? What are they doing here?" Eleanor asked.
"They're the same ships from the other world!" Booker warned as the Vox flotilla opened fire at the other flotilla. The Prophet's flotilla reacted violently, the flagship making a sudden turn, causing everyone aboard to stagger, and its massive guns opened fire.
Vox gunships joined the fray, sometimes ramming into Founder gunships, crews of both sides shooting like crazy. Vox Firemen and Zealots used their Vigors against their enemies, and the clash in the clouds intensified. Vox ships broke apart by the Hand of the Prophet's guns fell into the burning city.
"Eleanor! We gotta break into this ship and commandeer it! We need to destroy the Siphon!" Booker instructed, emptying his machine. He picked up two hand cannons and fired at Vox forces shooting at him.
"The Siphon? What's that?" Eleanor called, hurling fiery Plasmids at many gunships while gripping a machine gun in her other hand, shooting several Zealots dead as they charged her. The last Zealot of the group managed to reach her. Swung his sword at her, Eleanor knocked the blade aside with her machine gun, then kicked him across the jaw and knocked him out.
"It's a giant statue! Called Monument Island! We destroy it, and Elizabeth's Tears won't be contained!" Booker answered, a Vox Beast and several rebels leaping off a gunship and landing on the flagship. The Beast fired a Volley Gun whilst the rebels fired their guns. Booker fired both hand cannons into the Beast's helm multiple times, then Eleanor electrocuted the rebels and inflamed them with her Plasmids.
"How do you know that?" Eleanor asked, turning around and hurling explosive fireballs at a Vox gunship's crew shooting at her.
"I don't know! I just do!"
"Alright! Let's steal this flying boat! How do we destroy this Siphon?"
"I don't know! I'll think of something!"
Eleanor and Booker fought their way through the horde of Founder forces, entering the interior of the flagship. Working together, Eleanor and Booker destroyed a number of Motorized Patriots and Gun Automatons, and killed perhaps several dozen soldiers.
By the end of all that, Booker and Eleanor each had two hand cannons holstered at their sides, a carbine slung over the shoulders, and carrying shotguns.
"I'll explore the ship, and either lock or sabotage doors to cut-off access to the deck. We'll have less problems from hostile reinforcements," Eleanor said.
"Okay, and I'll head to the bridge! See you there!" Booker said, and Eleanor teleported away.
Eleanor teleported to various doors, locking them by manipulating the mechanics with her psykokinesis. She then sabotaged the locked doors, causing springs to deform and other smaller parts to slip out of place. This would prevent more soldiers from coming from the lower decks, making slightly less problems. Once that was done, she teleported up to the bridge.
Looking through the windows, Eleanor could see the aerial battle raging outside. At first, she could not see Booker, but found him in a room at the back of the bridge. He was looking at various engravings on the walls, something about a prophet's visions?
Near the engravings, was some sort of statue of an angel, the lower front a cut-out revealing a glowing device that zapped and hummed. The statue was part of a miniature crypt, implemented with a large stone coffin. The sarcophagus had a glass lid.
Rays of bright white light illuminated the interior of the stone coffin, and purple light swirled out as well. The brightness inside the coffin was so severe, staring into it hurt the eyes.
Eleanor had no way to understand the imagery, but Booker seemed focused. Suddenly, they heard a high-pitched scream, coming from...the coffin? The bright lights intensified, rays beaming out the coffin. Something was thudding inside the coffin, groaning and crying out.
"Wait, that sounds like... Elizabeth!" Booker yelled, trying to open the coffin, but he could not find a way. He began pounding the butt of his shotgun against the glass, but it remained affixed.
Eleanor used her psychokinesis to break the lid open. Dropping his shotgun, Booker threw his arms into the light, dragging out Elizabeth from the coffin. White light was beaming out the young woman's eyes and body, purple lights also swirling out her body. She was violently writhing forwards and backwards, clawing at her head and crying out from pain.
"Ahh, dammit! No, no, no, no, no, no! Elizabeth, I-I don't know what to do!" Booker was trying to do something, gently lying her down, but then she simply began thrashing her head up and down, smashing it against the floor like a possessed toy. Booker grabbed her head, trying to stabilize it, but Elizabeth continued her violent spasms.
Elizabeth inhaled deeply, then let out a strange, distorted, scream. After that, she went limp, but continued thrashing about, smacking her arms and head against the floor. Booker's grip could not keep her in place, and he in fact was nearly thrown off.
Then, strange, distorted music began playing. It sounded like Mozart's Lacrimosa from his Requiem in D minor, sung by a soprano with a wobbly voice. The music emanated from inside Elizabeth's head.
"Goddammit! What the hell's going on?" Booker yelled, unable to restrain Elizabeth's violent spasms.
Eleanor used her telekinesis to levitated Elizabeth, holding her midair.
"There! She won't hurt herself anymore!" Eleanor stated, though Elizabeth began flailing her head and limbs acutely, bones and joints popping. "Uh..."
The two heard powerful, vibrating wailing echoing throughout the skies. They looked out the window, seeing both Vox and Founder ships shooting each other down, as well as something else flying through the chaos. It screamed again.
"Aww, shit! It's the buzzard!" Booker warned, now desperately looking around and trying to figure out how to help Elizabeth.
"I'll try to restrain her!" Eleanor said, partly stabilizing Elizabeth's flailing body. Elizabeth screamed with a distorted, echoing voice, foggy white light now emanating from her body.
Booker looked at the miniature Siphon replica, and got an idea. He picked up his shotgun and fired once at the glowing blue device, destroying it. An electrostatic discharge blasted out the device, and with such force, it threw he, Eleanor and Elizabeth across the bridge with great force.
At the same time, Songbird landed hard on the flagship, slamming upon a group of Vox insurgents. Songbird knelt, then looked up, seeing Eleanor, Elizabeth and Booker fly through the windows of the bridge, two shotguns also flying out.
Eleanor used her psychokinesis to slow down their falling, and they landed on the deck as Vox and Founder soldiery fired at each other from everywhere. Booker sat up, coughing, then rolled over to check on Elizabeth. She was back to normal, clutching her head and sitting up.
"Elizabeth..." Booker softly said, and she looked at him.
"Booker?" she whispered, then the two turned their heads and looked at Songbird, who was staring upon them with yellow eyes.
The Bird lowered his arms over everyone, shielding them from rockets and bullets. Soon, the Founder and Vox forces mostly targeted one another.
"Hunh, and here I thought he'd be ripping me apart..." Booker remarked as Songbird slowly picked himself.
"Why would he? He already carried you up down below. I sang him his whole song, now he will wholly obey me," Elizabeth explained, Booker looking at her as she picked himself up, yet her voice...came from behind him?
As Songbird's arms lifted off the deck, Booker turned around, seeing Elizabeth, who now wore a grey uniform and was rather dusty. She looked at him, so Booker turned his head and stared at Elizabeth, the one in blue.
The Elizabeths then looked at each other, the one in blue widening her eyes, the one in grey just lifting an eyebrow. The Elizabeth in blue raised her forearms up a bit, wondering what to say, but was dumbstruck. Eleanor looked at person to person, quite surprised herself.
"Believe it, kiddo," Pinkerton Elizabeth remarked, crossing her arms.
"Alright, which is which?" Eleanor asked, the Elizabeths looking at her.
The Elizabeth in grey looked at Booker, and the Elizabeth in blue looked at Zachary. Booker and Zachary were staring at each other like gargoyles. The only differences between the two men were hair colour, eye colour, and clothes. Ghostly static and tuning sounded.
"Booker, you're bleeding..." both Elizabeths said at the same time, Zachary and Booker touching their own noses, and seeing blood on their fingers. They looked back at each other, resuming their standoff.
"Are you kidding me..." Zachary almost complained, keeping his hand above his holstered revolver.
"Who are you?" Booker asked, certainly confused, fingers slowly curling in and out above his holstered revolvers.
"I'm you, idiot," Zachary replied, pulling out his Smith & Wesson Model 29-2 and spinning its cylinder.
"No, you ain't me, pal," Booker assured, unholstering a hand cannon and giving the cylinder a spin.
"Then one of us isn't real," Zachary said, pulling his revolver's hammer back.
"Then one of us is gonna die," Booker spat, also pulling his revolver's hammer back.
"Agreed. There's only gonna be one in a moment."
"Just shut up and let's do this."
"No!" the Elizabeths said, stepping between the doppelgangers just as they raised their revolvers. Blue Elizabeth just gave Zachary a pair of puppy dog eyes, and he hesitated.
"No-no-no-no-no, no, no. No. No," Pinkerton Elizabeth spoke to Booker, then her eyes narrowed and she slightly tilted her head. "No..." she whispered.
Each Elizabeth approaching their contrasting Booker made the men pause, Songbird casually looking down on them. Eleanor looked back at him, then sensed something odd.
"Does anyone else hear that?" Eleanor asked, and then everyone heard a ghostly, wobbly version of Mozart's Lacrimosa, the soprano's voice also wobbly, causing everyone to look back up to the bridge.
Some sort of ghostly thing quickly floated down from the bridge. Then, the Siren floated upwards while raising her arms, releasing an inhaling-like, ghostly cry, a mass of bright light and white electricity emanating from her.
All around the Bookers, Elizabeths, Eleanor and Songbird, corpses picked themselves up, eyes strongly glowing brightly. The reanimated bodies, all at the same time, looked at them.