Motley Mutants: Post-Apocalyptia Ch. 9 - Newton's Sevenfold
+ After a surprisingly brief ride in The Spire's elevator, the group of five found themselves standing in the middle of a large circular room. Once the humming elevator sensed that all of them had vacated its cabin, it immediately slid its doors shut and shuttled back towards the ground allowing a metal cover to slide over the hole from which it came. With the elevator out of the way, the group could now see what looked like an abandoned meeting room, surrounded on all sides by padded metal chairs and colorful desks with skeletons in or beside them facing the center of the room. The walls, the ceilings, and the floors were all constructed using the same abys-black metal material as the elevator, rendering the room almost completely colorless. The only exceptions to the drab interior design were located on and behind each desk and chair where there were short hallways leading to doors with labels and bright colors. Without a word spoken, each member of the group wandered towards a specifically colored desk and began pondering the significance of it. As each of them wracked their brain for a conclusion, one suddenly came to all of them at once.
"Roy G. Biv." Everyone except for Agrippina thought.
"Doctors, Red and Orange.
Yellow and Green.
Blue, Indigo, and Violet." Three voices of ascending tone said in their heads.
"Uhh, guys. I think I'm hearing voices. Like a lot of them… In my head." Sweetheart said pressing his hands tightly against his ears.
"Me too… They're talking about…colors." Liona responded.
"What are you two talking about? I don't hear anything." Agrippina asked while tilting her ears forward like two radio antennae.
"More than just colors.
Newton's Sevenfold.
A rainbow." The voices, while they had not a physical vibration, sounded very different from one another nonetheless. The one who spoke first sounded cold and stern: authoritative. The second one to speak sounded sensitive and anxious: neurotic. The last one sounded warm and concerned: feminine.
"What the fuck is going on?" Sweety panicked slightly. "I haven't had so many voices in my head since the last time I overdosed on mentats and jet!"
"Calm yourself, waste-marauder.
We mean you no immediate harm." Two of the voices promised.
"Who or what are you? How are you speaking to us?" Liona demanded.
"We do not speak, girl.
Not anymore we don't.
Individual names are no longer relevant. You may refer to us as the Coalescence." The voices revealed. Those affected by the voices had yet to move since the beginning of the interaction, leaving Agrippina completely flabbergasted as she wandered from member to member waving her hands in an attempt to garner their attention.
"Is anybody going to tell me what's happening? You're starting to freak me out, you guys!" Aggie admitted.
"We communicate to you telepathically.
We don't have larynxes nor tongues.
Nor lungs, nor teeth. We are completely disincarnate."
"There are…voices…in our heads, Aggie. They're communicating to us via telepathy, somehow." Rocky explained to the synth.
"We were told that there were seven scientists here. I assume you're what's left of those scientists." Liona speculated.
"A story? It's been a very long time since we've told one.
We will tell you what you want to know, if you'll please excuse our verbosity.
We don't get visitors, hardly ever. Today is proving to be quite eventful for us."
"We were selected to come here, - not to save our world mind you, for it was surely doomed - but to create a new one.
A botanist, a mathematician, a neuroscientist, a zoologist, a biochemist, an engineer, and…a microbiologist, I think…yes.
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet. We were the overseers of this vault, all of us."
"With the Forced Evolutionary Virus at our disposal and as much lab equipment as any gentleman-scientist could dream of, we were tasked with developing a new, better life form to serve in humanities place atop the food-chain. A sentient race, more capable of surviving in the new world; a race capable of thriving in it.
We brought many different species of animals into the vault for our tests, and we cultivated The Garden for them to inhabit while we studied them."
"That explains the giant birds of prey. You surely outdid yourselves with those ones, I'll say." Montecrief complimented, his sarcasm eluding the Coalescence's detection.
"Hmm? The Bubos, you mean? Yes. We were once very proud of them.
Great Horned Owls, they were; Tiger Owls, if you like. The F.E.V. maximized their predatory skills making them very survivable indeed. In time, they even began to grow extra apposable digits!
Alas, they proved to be far too dull to satisfy our needs. If given a millennia to breed, never would they thrive as humanity once did." The Coalescence remarked.
"And what about the trees?" Sweetheart asked. "Those oaks were really fucking big. Like, too big."
"Our doing as well, just like all that you've seen since entering our dominion. The result of our efforts were physically immense beings, with the collective mental acuity of a single co-co-nut. Mentally insignificant things, trees.
They certainly were a challenge to us at first; they've not at all the same anatomy as owls, turtles, or…humans.
Eventually all bends to the will of the persistent scientist, however, and we had seven."
"Yes, indeed. You lock enough sexually deprived scientific geniuses into a world-class laboratory for long enough, and I assure you all of space and time will eventually become common knowledge to its inhabitants. Vault-Tec was so focused on prestige and credentials however, that they neglected to account for all of the corresponding egos." The first voice remembered.
"What exactly happened here?" Rocky redirected the voices, who had strayed from the topic.
"Science: that is what happened here, mutant. We spent over one hundred years trapped in this vault. During that time, the seven of us had found little success in our endeavors dealing with the F.E.V. The virus, while certainly potent, was astoundingly unrefined.
And our test subjects weren't proving to be very…viable. So we lured some of the waste marauders, like the ruffian one amongst you, down into the vault.
In secret of course. We couldn't allow the others to find out. There were self-imposed rules against testing on humans back then; as were there rules against contact with the outside world."
"Not my rules. Not ours. If it wasn't for the others… All four of them were working together - conspiring no doubt - to prevent us three more brilliant minds from achieving our goal.
Regardless, with the help of our colleagues at a place called the Institute, eventually we did develop a more refined version of the F.E.V. We called it, the Supplementary Psychoactive Virus.
We had planned to maximize our new virus' potential by using it on those already affected by the F.E.V. Super Mutants, I believe you call them."
"Yes, but the others discovered our plans eventually. I suppose it was rather easy for them considering they did nothing but laze about all day while we performed real science!
We were made aware that they had found us out when they ordered a…a meeting of the minds.
We all knew the penalty would be severe for our transgressions: death."
"Yes, and so we took the necessary precautions. We approached this very room, each with a syringe full of SPV in hand.
When they confronted us, we offered no mitigation.
When they voted, sentencing us to death, we made not pleas nor bargains."
"It was then that we injected our veins with the dripping needles hidden up our sleeves.
As the SPV took hold of our minds, it separated them from our anatomies.
Our former allied scientists stood up, withdrew their weapons, and fired them at our empty husks in vain."
"Then we held the world's first true battle of the minds. Our boundless consciousness was pitted against their glorified biological hard-drives. We won, of course." By the end of the story the members of the group found themselves leaning and sitting on the desks behind which the battle had occurred. Rocky looked at one of the skeletons, sitting at the green colored desk.
"So you killed them… Is that what you're saying?" Rocky queried tentatively.
"Egos, I remind you. Egos and jealous hearts are what killed them, mutant." The first voice spoke.
"So which three are you? Of the colored scientists, I mean." Liona asked.
"We've already told you, human.
We are the Coalescence." Spoke the first and third voices.
"No, I mean before you became…whatever you are." Liona specified.
"Before? It is hard to tell, truthfully. After we defeated the others, we soon began battling amongst ourselves. I forget to what end, exactly, but battle we did. We fought for so long, and so intimately, that as time progressed it became nearly impossible to tell which of us was which - to tell whose thoughts were whose. You see, then it became clear: Our minds had, effectively, coalesced." The first voice explained. Rocky looked over the desks in the room and saw three skeletons resting beside as many chairs. One was dressed in the color blue, the second one donned the color yellow, and the last wore a violet coat.
"Do the names, Dr. Blue, Dr. Yellow, and Dr. Violet sound familiar?" He asked.
"Why yes they do. They were colleagues. Dr. Blue was a name given to Dr. Hasburn: an excellent Biochemist.
Dr. Yellow… That was the pseudonym for Dr. Godfrey, the Neuroscientist, I think.
And of course we all remember Dr. Violet, also known as Dr. Medina. She was a wonderful Microbiologist…and a hell of a knitter too." The voices recalled one by one.
"It's difficult to be sure, but after looking at these skeletons, I think it's safe to assume that that's who you three were." Rocky explained. "They're the only ones left in their seats."
"Yes… I suppose you could be right… Yes! I am Dr. Blue! …Or was I Yellow?
No Dr. Blue, I think I was Dr. Yellow… Yes, I'm sure of it now!
And that would make me…Dr. Violet! Oh yes, how splendid!" The Voices celebrated their remembrance.
"I'm glad I could help. Maybe you three could help us out now." Rocky ventured.
"Of course, mutant! Anything!" Spoke the third voice, Dr. Violet.
"We need to find the two who came up here before us. There should've been a man and a super mutant. Have you seen them, or…felt them?" Rocky asked.
"No, we have not noticed anybody except for you all. Although, there was a slight…disturbance earlier.
Yes! I remember the disturbance, Dr. Blue! We sensed an energy presence but were blocked by something. A device maybe.
I've never heard of such a device, Dr. Yellow. But certainly something unnatural was preventing our telepathy from pervading throughout the Spire." Spoke the doctors.
"Which way did this disturbance go?" Liona asked.
"Up, I believe. Perhaps into – it…it went into the F.E.V. chambers!
I think… Oh, no! They must have come to steal the S.P.V.!
They must be stopped!" The doctor's presences grew so strong in the group's minds then that they began to apply excruciating pressure to their brains. Clutching their heads, everyone but Agrippina fell to their knees and screamed in pain.
"What's going on?!" Aggie yelled.
"Answer my question truthfully, for we will know if you don't! Did you come here to steal our lives work!? Our legacy?!" Dr. Blue interrogated.
"No! We came to stop that from happening!" Rocky forced through clenched teeth.
"I don't believe them, Dr. Blue! We should kill them! Eliminate them like we did the others!" said Dr. Violet. The pressure grew to be too immense then as those affected writhed around on the floor from the excruciating agony. Agrippina attempted to console her companions, all the while being completely unaware of what ailed them.
"Liona! Rocky! What on earth is happening to you?!" Agrippina worried.
"Wait doctors! I think there is another energy here. A non-human energy!" Dr. Yellow said.
"Stop this! Whatever is happening, stop!" Agrippina exclaimed. Suddenly the pain regressed to that of a dull headache for those affected.
"What is that…thing? Is it a robot? Some kind of Rob-Co monstrosity?" Dr. Blue asked.
"She's a synthetic… a synthetic human." Rocky answered between labored pants.
"An android? The work of the Institute, no doubt. I knew we should have enlisted a robotics expert! Knew it!
Never mind that, Dr. Blue. How are we going to stop her?
We cannot, Dr. Yellow. We are helpless against a being devoid of a natural biology."
"Hmm. A new strategy then. Humans: Since we cannot harm your synthetic friend, it seems we must come to an agreement.
Yes, we'll make a deal. She leaves, and we won't turn your brains into mush." Spoke doctors Blue and Violet.
"Is everything okay? What happened?" Agrippina asked, helping Liona to her feet as the pain in the scribe's head subsided.
"They're occupying our minds, Aggie. We're helpless against them, but you aren't. They can't hurt you because you're a synth." Liona explained. "They want you to leave in exchange for our lives."
"Leave? Okay, fine, whatever. But only if we can all leave together." Agrippina demanded.
"No." Rocky shouted, as he pounded a crater into a nearby desk. "We will not leave, doctors. We are not a threat to your S.P.V., but there is someone who is, and he may've already found it for all we know. You have to let us go, because we are the only ones who can stop him." Rocky bargained.
"I…I believe he's telling the truth.
Yes, his thoughts are clear. No contradictions. No discrepancies.
They truly have come to foil the defilers."
"Only if you show us the way." Pleaded Rocky.
"The way? The way will be of no use to you, mutant.
No use at all, I'm afraid. You've got to be a human. Not a ghoul or an android, or a mutant.
What about the female intruder, doctors."
"What do I have to do?" Liona asked.
"It will require blood - a small sample of D.N.A. from you, human.
A nasty prick of the thumb. I never did enjoy needles. Simply barbaric technology, that.
Put your thumb on the console near the shuttle, girl. Lay it over the tiny hole." The voices explained. Liona walked over to the strange white console and placed her thumb over the hole in the center of it. She waited anxiously for the needle to pierce her finger, until a nerve-wracking thirty seconds had passed.
"How long does it - Ow!" Liona yelled. "Never mind." The petite scribe consoled her sore thumb between her lips. Soon another elevator came flying down from the ceiling above and into the center of the room.
"Before you leave here there are some things that you all should know." Spoke Dr. Blue in their heads. "Firstly, you'll need to know about the virus' location. The S.P.V. is contained within a small briefcase located in the furthest room from the shuttle entrance. It too will require a human's D.N.A. to access. The Pinnacle was where we performed all of our tests on the viruses, and as such it is where we stored all of the F.E.V. as well.
Secondly, it's important to recognize that the S.P.V. was originally intended to be used on a subject who had already been introduced to the F.E.V., that is, until we realized just how powerful the two viruses combined could make a creature. If the mutant you referred to earlier is able to obtain and use the S.P.V. on himself, the effects on his biology could prove…immeasurable.
And lastly, you should know that as soon as the S.P.V. container is removed from its docking station, the entire vault will begin to explode. That is all. Be on your way."
"Wait, what?! Did she just say explode?" Sweetheart repeated.
"Yes. Don't worry though, waster. This is good news! The alarm is extremely obnoxious, and you would have heard it by now had they already found the S.P.V." Spoke Dr. Yellow.
"What happens if we hear the alarm? Is there an escape route of some kind?" Monte asked.
"Hmmm… No, ghoul. There isn't. The vault door will shut and everything inside will perish within minutes." Dr. Blue replied plainly.
"There has to be another way out." Liona thought aloud. "What about all of the mutants outside?"
"Like I said, human: Everything inside the vault will perish. The animals will not be spared.
The explosion's effects must be absolute, so as to prevent anything from leaving here with the S.P.V.
The virus is far too dangerous. We knew it was almost as soon as we created it." The doctors said in their usual order.
"What I meant was: how did you intend to release the mutants into the wastes so that they could 'repopulate the world'? Assuming you created a viable species here." Liona asked.
"It's quite simple actually. We decided that if somehow we created a species more intelligent and more survivable than us, we wouldn't need to create a way for them to get to the surface. If a species we created had surpassed the intellect of a human, they would have eventually done it by themselves. So if what you were hoping for were teleporters or some other kind of science-fiction mumbo-jumbo, I'm sorry to say that isn't the case.
It's not as if we didn't try, mind you. You can blame Dr. Violet for that failure.
It wasn't my fault, you misremembering imbecile! The Institute wasn't willing to trade that technology for anything less than the S.P.V. What was I to do, give our single most important piece of technology to them?" Spoke the Doctors.
"Fine. We'd better get moving." Rocky declared to everyone in the room, who all nodded in agreement. As the group entered the elevator they felt their brain-aches completely cease leaving them all with a strong sense of relief.
"Some kind of fucking day, huh Monte?" Sweetheart said, nudging the ghoul.
"You're telling me…" Monte grumbled as he massaged his forehead.
"One last thing, humans…synthetic or otherwise. If you would care for our aid, all you need do is destroy whatever device currently prevents us from finding the interlopers." Dr. Blue offered. "The S.P.V. is far too powerful to leave this vault. In the event that the virus is stolen, you must take every measure to destroy it. Our work will not be this world's salvation; that much is clear." Rocky grumbled a response along the lines of 'got it' as the elevator doors shut. Montecrief once again pressed the only available button lifting them to the very top of the Spire and to Boston and Cyrus.
+ Boston led Cyrus deeper into the Pinnacle's maze-like interior, passing room after room filled with spilt barrels of glowing F.E.V. and the deceased monsters it once created. The intertwining and dead-ending halls of the Pinnacle were paved with black tiles and lit by bright, blue ceiling lights perched atop metal beams just above head-level. The spotlights served just as well at illuminating their path forward, as they did at obscuring everything above them in darkness. Despite the Spire's dilapidated outer appearance, the inside of the pre-war construction had surprised Cyrus thus far by how well maintained it had seemed. The Pinnacle however, was not nearly as clinical or sterile as the Spire's lower portions. Blood smears covered the walls and shattered glass from the many subject observation windows crunched beneath their boots. Unexpectedly, Cyrus stopped walking, stood in front of the closest test room to himself and peered into it. Soon after, Boston stopped walking as well. He looked over his shoulder where he saw his human companion staring pensively at one of the failed subjects. Boston stepped to Cyrus' side and joined him in examining the room's interior through the cracked glass window. They stayed like that, watching the ungodly corpse together in silence for an entire minute, until Cyrus finally spoke.
"Harrowing thing, isn't it?" He muttered. "The poor creature… I can't even tell if it was a human or an animal before…all of this." Cyrus didn't look at Boston as he spoke; his gaze remained fixated on the mutated corpse.
"It is certainly a discomforting sight to behold." Boston replied quickly. "Trial and error: this is the way science has always progressed. It's the difference between this lump of rotted flesh, and a super mutant like myself." Boston studied Cyrus' face, finding that his words served to soothe the human little. "You are fearful, Cyrus. Why?"
"No offense Boston, but were my brain not slowly withering away, I would have preferred to remain just how I am." Cyrus finally looked up at Boston.
"I see. The human to super mutant metamorphosis is a tumultuous one, indeed. Some become ugly, disfigured creatures like the centaur, while more fortunate ones stand the chance of becoming super mutants. It is…unpredictable." Said Boston.
"Do you remember your transformation? Do you remember what it was like?" Cyrus asked, his interest piqued. Boston smiled faintly. He held out his hands as if he were attempting to study them for the first time.
"I'm afraid your situation is profoundly unique, Cyrus. Not many humans undergo the transformation willingly. Mine took place long ago, and I've never been able to fully recall how it came to be. The 'hows' of it can be surmised easily enough though; I was more interested in the 'whys'. Fortunately, I had a great leader who taught me everything I needed to know; a leader who showed me his plans for the future of this world. I intend to be that kind of leader for you now, Cyrus." Cyrus looked away from Boston for a moment. Curious, he held out his own hands to compare them to Boston's. They both chuckled at the ludicrous juxtaposition of their fingers and palms side-by-side.
"What do you think happened here? What with all of this broken glass and blood, I mean." Cyrus asked Boston.
"Nothing pleasant, that's for certain." Boston pointed out the obvious. "One could surmise, based on the direction of the blood splatter and the glass ejection angles, that the creatures attempted to escape their prisons at some point. The ones who did most likely resorted to cannibalizing the other inhabitants. A sort of exercise in survival of the fittest, you could say."
"Yes, except no one was 'fit' in this case. After a while, even the strongest of them must have eventually starved to death. Who knows how long they were left up here." Cyrus wondered.
"Come - we must be close now." Boston walked away, disappearing around the next corner, while Cyrus continued watching the dead mutant. Silently, and with a deep-breath, he took the time to solidify its image in his head, before pursuing Boston.
They walked for another few minutes, passing several more labs of varying size, before finally arriving at end of the Pinnacle. The unlikely duo scaled the brief staircase of the final laboratory, and halted before its steel door.
"There -" Boston pointed out the D.N.A. lock beside the door. "It's the final one. Inside this laboratory we will find what we're looking for." Cyrus nodded and placed his thumb over the scanner, which promptly pierced his skin and analyzed his blood. Suddenly the metal door audibly unsealed itself, swinging away from them and into the dark room. Boston pushed past Cyrus as he entered the room, which immediately sensed his presence and turned on its lights. Soon afterwards, Cyrus stepped into the room timidly, studying all of its pre-war instruments and furniture. He watched as Boston walked to the middle of the room, towards an aluminum briefcase perched on a metal stand.
"Is that it?" Cyrus asked, peeking around Boston's shoulder.
"It is." Replied the mutant.
"Alright. Then let's grab it and get the hell out of this dreadful place. I don't want to be in this vault any longer than I need to be." Cyrus hurried the mutant, while examining the room around himself.
"One moment." Boston noticed a peculiar blue wire protruding from the briefcase dock. With his finger, he traced it all the way back to a terminal on the other side of the room. He turned on the terminal, and immediately began searching through its systems and applications.
"What are you doing now?" Cyrus' curiosity finally prompted him to ask.
"These doctors… They'd sooner discover time travel than learn to properly rig an explosive device." Boston responded whilst typing away at the terminal.
"'Explosive device'? Is this thing booby-trapped?" Cyrus started backing away slowly. Boston finished typing then, and returned to the briefcase.
"Fret not, Cyrus. It has been de-boobied." The mutant opened the case so that he could study the three syringes left within it beneath the laboratory lights. "Hmm. I thought it would be…greener." Boston mumbled in a near judgmental tone towards the purple vials of S.P.V.
"Is that it? It's just a shot? Well, here I was half expecting to be taking a bath in a barrel of goop." Cyrus joked.
"You can take all the goop baths you want, Cyrus, just don't touch these syringes. There's plenty of F.E.V. to go around now." The mutant said without turning to face the human. He simply continued studying the contents within the glass syringes in the light.
"Sure, right. And I thought you didn't have a sense of humor, Boston. So how're we going to do this? Should I inject it myself, or do you -"
"Neither." Boston stated humorlessly. "Like I said: go find a barrel of F.E.V., and crawl into it."
"Wait, you…you aren't serious, right? What about the radiation I've sustained? The ordinary F.E.V. would just turn me into one of those mindless freaks!" Cyrus' voice quivered slightly.
"Yes, most likely. But isn't that better than the alternative, Cyrus?" Boston replied plainly.
"I should have known... Working with a mutant... What was I thinking? There was only one way this was ever going to end. After everything I've done, you're going to betray me like this? We made a deal!"
"'Betray'? Our only deal was that you would help me gain access to this vault, and in return I would show you a cure for your disease. The F.E.V. is a cure, just not the one you were expecting. I've done you no wrong, Cyrus." Boston insisted as he sealed the briefcase of syringes.
"Green-Devil!" Cyrus was overflowing with fury. His ordinarily pale face creased and burned a hot red. "I did everything you asked! The LEO data, the Pip-Boy - everything! And for what?! To be discarded like some broken trinket!?" Boston faced the Elder, and lowered his head so that their faces were level with one another.
"Listen to me, Cyrus, for there is truth in my words. I could not have done this without you, this is true. But the S.P.V. is not intended for the likes of you. Use the F.E.V., and become a super mutant. With the LEO data you've given me, I will someday be able to convert these east-coast abominations into truly superior beings both physically and mentally - including you. Eventually you all will become like me, just as the Master had intended: perfect beings. But using the S.P.V. within these syringes, I will be able to evolve myself beyond what even the Master could have hoped to accomplish. You helped me, not to be discarded like a 'broken trinket', but to aid in the progress of human evolution. The mutants will inherit this world, and you played no small role in making that so." Their glares lingered on each other for a while longer, until at last Boston returned to his normal posture and began walking towards the door, briefcase in hand. Cyrus, fueled by both hatred and vengeance, leaped onto the green mutants back, and jabbed his combat knife's blade several inches deep into his shoulder. Boston roared and jolted backwards into the center of the room, where he tripped on a stool forcing him to drop the briefcase as he fell to the floor. As soon as they landed, Cyrus pushed off of the mutant and towards the now open syringe case. Extending his body as far as he could, the Elder was able to grab one of the syringes and inject it into his chest before Boston could react. He stood up awkwardly, stared at the needle in his chest, and awaited whatever fate he had earned.
"Fool…" Boston whispered. "You have only managed your own doom."
"I had to do... No choice…" Cyrus whispered, his eyes staring vacantly into Boston's. A moment later his limp body dropped to the floor with an inglorious thud, completely absent of vitality. Boston rose up from the floor and retrieved the briefcase, which now held only two syringes. He sealed the container shut, before removing Cyrus' dagger from his shoulder. Boston was holding the bloody blade in front of himself and watching his own blood drip from it, when to his bewilderment, he noticed a series of footsteps ascending the laboratory staircase rapidly. After turning hastily to face the doorway, Boston's eyes nearly doubled in size once he saw Rocky amongst the intruders.
"Roc…is that really you?" Boston asked, tilting his head slightly.
"Boston, it's -" Rocky began, before noticing the slumped over body of the Elder laying on the floor beside the mutant holding a bloody knife. "The Elder - What did you do to him, Boston?"
"Roc, your voice… Clearly you've changed. Cyrus had told me about the LEO procedure, but hearing and seeing are two very different things." Boston remained beside Cyrus' body while he spoke to Rocky, the briefcase loosely dangling in his hand. "I did nothing to the Elder, despite the obvious implications of the unfortunate image before you. This knife - he stuck it into my back just before injecting a syringe full of S.P.V. into his own arm. He was a very desperate man you see, Roc."
"My name isn't Roc anymore, Boston. It's Rocky."
"Fitting. A new name, for a new man. But you aren't really a man at all, are you Rocky? No. You're a super mutant, just like me. Just like Chop and the others. Regardless of what they've told you, and no matter what they've promised you, they will never see you as an equal, Roc." Boston stated in a soft tone.
"As usual, you're wrong, Boston. Look around me. There are many people who have already chosen to accept me despite our kind's cruel history." Rocky stood sideways so that Boston could see the faces of his followers. Boston's eyes switched from one to the other, until he came across Agrippina's face. He lingered on the synth for a moment longer than he did on anyone else, before returning his gaze to Rocky.
"What is this? Are you referring to the ragtag crew of misfits behind you? Do these few biological aberrations serve as your only evidence of acceptance? Roc, you belong with your own kind. With your restored intellect, you truly have achieved supremacy over humankind, just as I have. With an army of mutants like us at our side, there would be no force in the wastes strong enough to keep us from creating a new world." Boston envisioned.
"I know who you are." Spoke a voice from behind Rocky. "I've never forgotten that face, even after all of this time." Agrippina continued, stepping forward.
"What do you mean you remember him, Agrippina?" Liona asked.
"I remember him from back at the Institute. He was the reason I was created." Aggie explained.
"You were created by a super mutant?" Asked Sweetheart scratching his shaved head.
"No, silly raider. A doctor named Madison Li created me. She was the one who developed my Furtive Synth Component. She made me so that I could help her spy on the other scientists in the Institute, and specifically on Dr. Maron." Aggie told the group.
"Who was Doctor Maron?" Rocky asked.
"I am Doctor Maron. Or rather, I was Dr. Maron." Boston admitted. "Psychiatrist Maron, more precisely."
"A super mutant in the Institute? How is that even possible?" Liona asked incredulously.
"It isn't common for the Institute to recruit from the surface, and it's especially uncommon for them to recruit a super mutant, but Father saw something special in my abilities." Boston began. "Long ago, the Institute attempted to infiltrate a town I was living in: a settlement comprised of all sorts of beings named Sojourn. I had been working there as a medical doctor for a while and as such I had come to learn quite a bit about its multifarious inhabitants. One night the Institute abducted the town's eldest leader in secret, a ghoul, and replaced him with a synthetic copy of himself. Using my knowledge of his prior behavior however, I quickly discerned the synth's true identity and destroyed it. The Institute of course found out about this, but instead of sending more androids to kill me they sent a Courser, an elite synth soldier, to recruit me. They gave me the position of head Psychiatrist and put me in charge of refining the synthetic personalities so that they could better emulate biological beings. Furthermore, I also played a role in recreating the personalities of any abducted wasters using our synthetic copies. The Institute - so that's where I remember you from, synthetic."
"Madison Li, I remember that name. My mother used to tell me about a Madison Li who aided in the development of Project Purity, up in the Capitol Wasteland." Said Liona.
"That's the one. She was my creator, and she was a brilliant woman." Agrippina said. "Using some of my recorded data she was able to gather that Dr. Maron was working with Dr. Syverson, the head of F.E.V. research, in order to develop a widespread delivery device for the F.E.V. The device would have been capable of spreading the virus in its airborne form all across the wastes. She brought the evidence to our leader, Father, and they decided to confront the doctors."
"Your surveillance was quite blatant, however. I was long gone by the time Father stepped in." Boston said.
"Yes you were, but Dr. Syverson wasn't. We found him dead in his laboratory." Agrippina stated. "He had been murdered by Dr. Maron - by him." Aggie erected an accusatory finger at Boston, who dismissed her ire with a subtle chuckle.
"Obviously, synthetic. I couldn't allow him to live while knowing the full extent of my plans." Boston steered into the accusation. "It is regrettable that the old man had to die though. He was one of the few humans who understood the full capabilities of our race, Roc."
"He's the reason I was sent away from my home. Dr. Li thought it best I pursue Dr. Maron into the wastes, and that I kill him before he hatches another plan against humanity." Aggie said.
"You wouldn't be the first synth to try. The Institute has sent many coursers after me over the years. There's been considerably less as of late, though. Perhaps they finally got what was coming to them for engineering such abhorrent beings like yourself, synthetic. The answer to the wastelands struggles lies not within synthetic humans, but in evolved humans." Boston said with his arms spread out as if he were attempting to display himself. "If you've gotten this far, then that means that you've met the doctors, no doubt. I'm not sure how you all were able to survive an encounter with them without a psychic-nullifier, -" Boston pointed to his rusty crown. "- but it will take much more than that if you intend to oppose me." Boston opened the briefcase and showed its contents to Rocky. "There are two more doses left of the S.P.V., Roc. One for you, and one for me. This is the final step in our ascendance. No longer will the Brotherhood, the Enclave, the Institute or any other pathetic group of humans dictate the destiny of the Earth. This world has been burnt to its roots and nearly destroyed in their hands. In ours it could be rebuilt even stronger than it was before the Great War." Rocky lifted one of the syringes from the container, and held it high in his hand.
"You speak to me as kin, Boston." Rocky began in a deep, low voice. "You say we can change the world for the better, and that all I need to do in order for that to happen, is to change who I am once again; to become even more of a monster, so that I am further separated from the man I once was. And for what? To rule the wastes with you? Even to you that must sound…lonely. Look behind me, Boston. Look at this group of mutants, of humans, and of aberrations. We've been able to defeat every obstacle presented to us today, whether it be an army of raiders, or a flock of raptorial man-eating owls, or even a trio of ethereal and homicidal doctors all due to the fact that we are superficially different, and yet, fundamentally similar." Rocky glanced back at the group, and smiled briefly. "If after looking at us you can't see why your plans for Super Mutant supremacy are flawed, then you truly are hopelessly deluded, Boston." Rocky crushed the syringe in his hand and let the fluids drip to the floor. Boston watched as the precious S.P.V. spotted the floor of the Spire, utterly wasted. With a deep sigh, Rocky's former clan leader reached into the briefcase himself and removed the final syringe. He tossed the briefcase to the ground before plunging the final needle into his green arm.
"You've made your choice then, Roc." Boston calmly stated. "Now I want you to watch carefully, Rocky; the last thing your unworthy eyes will see is what you could have been." From the point of injection outward, Boston's skin began to darken into an unnatural purple color. The group led by Rocky backed up towards the doorway and watched as the being known as Boston transformed into something much less human, and something far more powerful. Reaching up to his head, he removed his psychic-nullifier, allowing his newfound psionic abilities to be accessed. In an attempt to harness the overwhelming power of the S.P.V., the mutant willed his power into tangible form. Boston watched curiously as a swirling purple energy struggled to take shape around his forearm. It flickered periodically, once nearly completely going out like a woodsman's fire consuming its final piece of lumber. Desperately, Boston played the role of such a survivor; swapping oxygen for focus and scarlet flames for lavender. The energy responded accordingly, amassing into an executioner's blade comprised entirely of the unknown forces he commanded. He spread his limbs outward and hovered into the air, releasing a force which blasted the group back into the surrounding walls. "It would seem that you're not the only one in need of a change of identity, Roc. Long ago there was the Master, who created and guided the super mutants, until the day he was destroyed. Today, the mutants will follow a new voice. The Voice." The purple mutant raised his free hand and pulled it toward himself, bringing with it Rocky's body.
"Rocky, no!" Liona exclaimed. She and the others attempted to save Rocky from the invisible grasp which pulled him into the air, when their minds were once again infiltrated by another presence. Helplessly, they watched as Rocky drew near to the strangely powerful purple mutant.
"Dammit! Not this shit again!" Sweetheart yelled.
"Oh no, is it happening again? W-what do I do?" Aggie stammered.
"Agrippina…grab the psychic-nullifier! Grab the crown!" Liona willed herself to say, while pointing in the general direction of Boston's discarded headwear. Agrippina activated her Furtive Synth Component, and dashed over to the fallen crown beside the purple mutant, newly named The Voice. After the sneaky synth retrieved the crown, she began running as fast as she could back to Liona. From the corner of his F.E.V. enhanced eye, The Voice spotted the crown disappear suddenly from where it laid.
"Not so fast, android." He whispered. "M7-42, initiate prototype standby, authorization code: Theta, 5, 5, Sigma." Agrippina's body reacted instantly to The Voices words, deactivating her stealth field and suspending her functionality. As the synth toppled over mid-stride, she dropped the psychic nullifier which took a convenient roll towards Sweetheart.
"Aggie?!" Sweetheart called to the unconscious synth.
"Sweetheart, the crown - put it on!" Liona screamed. Sweetheart obeyed the scribe's words, and placed the rusty crown onto his head. As soon as its cold metal met his bald scalp, the effects of The Voices powers dissipated.
"It worked!" Sweetheart said delightedly. To his right he placed a tattooed hand on Montecrief's arm, who then also felt the pain in his head dissipate suddenly.
Monte recognized Sweetheart's touch as the catalyst for the spread of the psychic nullification. With faint hope and loose theory guiding him, the ghoul then laid his mangled paw on Liona's back, allowing her to be protected by the strange piece of metal headwear too.
"What's happening?" Liona mumbled as she stood up.
"I think physical contact transfers the protection from person to person. We just have to stay together." Montecrief explained.
"Ah, very clever, humans. Using my own tools against me." The Voice noted.
"Liona, you guys have to get out of here!" Rocky yelled from the center of the lab, where he was floating in front of The Voice.
"Fuck that, man. Not after what he did to Agrippina. I'm not done with this asshole yet!" Sweetheart aimed his rifle at the purple mutant and fired three times, after which Monte and Liona followed suit with barrages of their own. With his free hand, The Voice focused his telekinetic powers to lift a nearby countertop to shield himself from the volley of projectiles. After the counter had absorbed the entirety of the blow, he sent it hurtling towards Monte, Liona, and Sweety. The gargantuan counter slammed them into the laboratory wall, trapping them behind its immense weight.
"To you lot, I offer a few words, same as I did the Elder: You've done well to get to this point, but what happens next doesn't concern you, humans." The Voice explained, before turning his gaze to Rocky. "This is how it should be, Roc. Just you and -" The mutant once known as Boston released Rocky suddenly. "What — what's happening?" He squeezed his own head and began fidgeting uncontrollably in pain. The blade of energy evaporated from his arm, as he consoled his aching cranium.
"You haven't met the Doctors yet, have you Boston?" Rocky cracked a small smile as he spoke. "As you can tell, they're not the most hospitable of hosts."
"Get out! Get out of my brain, you damnable phantoms!" The Voice demanded of his intruders, while he wrestled with them for control over his mind. They did not heed his commands however, and instead pressed even harder in their attempt to turn his brain to 'mush'. Fortunately, the Doctor's arrival had provided Rocky with enough time to save his allies. He sprinted to their aid and hoisted the steel counter above his head, leaving them room to crawl out from behind it.
"Thank you, Rocky." Liona began to say something more, when she noticed Rocky grimace harshly. "Rocky? What's wrong?" She asked. Rocky ignored Liona and instead listened to the creeping presence in his mind.
"We cannot hold him much longer, mutant.
It's the S.P.V. — it's made him far too powerful!
The intruder has deactivated the explosives. You must reactivate them, and destroy this place!" The doctors said to Rocky.
"I can't do it. If I do that, I'll kill everyone! We can defeat him without them!" Rocky insisted.
"Fool, you cannot! Go to the terminal, now! Enter the code: 'Newton's Sevenfold'!
You must not let him escape, mutant! Were he to do so, I'd fear for the whole of mankind.
Selfish! What good are your lives compared to that of the rest of the world?" The Doctors argued vehemently. Rocky stared into Liona's green eyes one last time. He could see her confusion, her fear, and her hope displayed clearly within them. It was in that moment that he wished for the first time since his reawakening that he had never met her, and that he had remained as a mindless 'meat man' for Boston's clan. Monte and Sweety stood closely behind Liona. They joined her in looking to Rocky for a solution - for a way out of this unforeseeable mess.
"I know what I need to do. Forgive me, my friends." Rocky tore his eyes away from them, and sprinted for the Lab terminal. He booted it up, clicked on the box provided, and without another thought he entered the overseer's code. Immediately a cacophony of alarms blared and flashed throughout the Pinnacle. The Coalescence seemed to have fled The Voice by then, as he returned, more or less, to his usual demeanor. Once he had fully re-acclimated to an internal population of one, the first things The Voice noticed were the Spire's deafening alarms and Rocky standing near the terminal.
"Humph... Truthfully, I didn't see that coming." The Voice mumbled to himself. "You do realize, Roc, that we could have transformed the entire wasteland with the amount of evolutionary virus in this vault. A world of mutants, just like us."
"Perhaps like you, Boston. But now, we all die together - and the rest of the F.E.V. dies with us." Stated Rocky, not proudly or heroically as would befit such a statement, but sorrowfully.
"You and your companions will indeed die today, Roc. But I'll not be thwarted so easily." With a swiping hand motion, the purple mutant tore open a black portal out of reality itself. "Goodbye, Roc. You've chosen your people. Have them…for whatever time you have left." He growled before stepping into the portal.
"Oh, no you don't!" Said Liona, firing her Puppeteer sleeves tertiary mode for only the second time. The blue beam connected with Boston before he completely entered the portal, yanking him out of it as Liona now gained temporary control over his body and mind. "You are not leaving unless we do, asshole!" She said - not verbally - but from inside the mutants conscious mind.
"Is that so?" The purple mutant asked in return. "This toy of yours is not an adequate adversary for my psychic abilities, human; and neither are you."
"Liona, what's going on?" Rocky asked, to no response. Liona's body remained standing straight up and still as if she remained within it, when in truth she couldn't have been further away. Suddenly Liona gasped for air as if she had just surfaced from the bottom of a lake. Rocky and Monte caught her as she came to and held her until she seemed lucid and present. The Puppeteer sleeve on her arm began to sizzle and pop from overuse, and so she removed the broken otherworldly weapon with haste. Shivering and sweating profusely, Liona gawked at the sleeve fearfully as she held on tight to her allies' arms. The whole Spire began to shake then from the many explosions going off in the vault.
"Come on, you guys! Quick!" Sweetheart grabbed Agrippina's limp body and attempted to make a run for the portal, just missing it as it vanished, taking The Voice with it. "Fuckin', shit! What do we do now?" He began to worry as the explosions outside grew louder.
"Now I will guide you, raider." Spoke a voice quite unlike anything anyone present had ever heard. It was like Montecrief's voice, in that it seemed to resonate profoundly. Yet unlike Montecrief, the anonymous voice had a bassy rumble similar to a hungry Yao Guai's stomach. The entire group looked near where the Elder had been laying, presumably deceased, and towards where they heard the voice emanate from. There, they witnessed an ever-growing mass of grey matter hovering in his place. The faceless hunk of brain spoke to them once again, whilst wriggling its tentacle-like limbs around on the floor aimlessly. "Please, hold onto one another; it will make the task simpler."
"E-Elder Cyrus? Is that you?" Liona asked the unrecognizable mass.
"Who cares, just do as it says!" Sweetheart demanded.
"Sweetheart, just hold on a damn minute. We don't even know who or what this thing is." Montecrief backed Liona.
"Sweethearts right, we don't have a choice." Said Rocky, who then huddled next to the rest of the group and held Liona's diminutive, lightly-freckled hand. The scribe looked up at him timidly with her eyes wide and wet. His touch slowed her shivering to a slight vibration.
"I am Grey Matter. Nothing but Grey Matter." Said the grotesque mass, through some unseen orifice.
A long moment passed while the group held onto one another, just as the talking brain had requested, unsure of exactly what was about to occur. Then, before any of them had a chance to perceive it, it happened. It started on their skin, and worked its way into their bones: a feeling unlike any other found on earth. It vibrated like a humming bird, and fluctuated between cold and warm like a week's worth of days and nights in a desert, sped up to last only a moment, and by the end of that moment, they were gone.