[Cauldron Base]
"I heard everything Doctor Mother said just now."
Flat-footed, unmasked, and ambushed in the very place where they had once felt the safest, they stiffened as terror bled from them.
Shock that you found them in the heart of their hidden base.
No! This shouldn't be possible!
Shock.
They knowingly and purposely planned to have me and Dragon attacked before ultimately making me watch as she died in my arms; and then proceed to enslave me and her backup that didn't even remember me. It's true that I had figured it out earlier, but hearing it again straight from their mouths and how they planned to do it again...
Emotion-Dampening Protocols active at 100% maxload!
Emotion bleed-through detected!
...this displeased me.
I squeezed a millimetre tighter around Contessa's jaw- the bone starting to bend under my metal fingertips. My optics glowed a deathy green as I dragged my gaze across the room. You see it in old soldiers and in scarred survivors- how they manage the four human responses in a violent situation: Fight, flee, fawn or freeze. The last being what kills the most people in life-or-death situations, and those that survive learned from the experience. 'Don't freeze' was their mantra.
The Triumvirate were no different- a thousand worst case scenarios have instilled into them the mental reflex to turn that freezing terror into action. Their initial shock from Contessa's answer only gave way to gritted determination as, through my advanced {Ocular Mechanicus Mk. III}, I saw their meat-brains flare with neural activity. Muscles tensed, pupils narrowed, and various glands released their hormones as- despite it all- the members of Cauldron began to move.
No, I didn't want to give them a glorious death in cape battle- I wanted to remind them of their mortality. I wanted to tear them from their high horse, drag them down into a dark bog, push their faces under the surface of the dead muddy waters, and ensure that their last moments were drowned in mind-numbing terror.
Upgrading {Psy-Implant Mk. I} with Cryptek Psychomancer Protocols
Activating {Psy-Implant Mk. II} Psi-broadcast...
"I was going to meme- to play kooky old Magos with his inability to take things seriously. However, I have been convinced otherwise, so..."
One of my specially-tipped mechadendrites tentacles gave a sharp flick and Contessa fell flat on her stomach on the white floor- her blue eyes staring in confusion at her prone body as I held her decapitated head aloft for her teammates to see.
That's when they froze.
"... This is me taking you seriously."
I allowed Contessa's frightened eyes to meet each of theirs for a scant few milliseconds before I tossed her head over my shoulder and into the portal behind me. No chances, not for them. But I still held hope that someone will be stupid enough to try and 'save' Contessa- charging through that portal and right into the welcome jaws of my killzone setup at the other end. Enough exotic weapons to chew through a hundred Alexandrias and a hundred Eidolons.
Even without my {Psy Implant Mk. II} feeding me with their thoughts, their fear was writ large upon their faces.
Terror that they will die along with all of humanity's hopes of surviving Scion
We can't die like this!
Terror.
"Oh, but you are about to die like this."
"D-" Doctor Mother tried to scream out something- likely an order, but human vocal cords were far too slow, and the reflexes of a machine-mind too fast.
Activating {Sicarian Infiltrator Proselytizer Mk. II} at 60% maxload...
Violent sonic, EM and gravitic perturbations emanated from my 'mask.' Bass so furious that your skeleton shook inside your flesh, electromagnetic radiation of high enough amplitude that any electronic communication is strangled out and little jumps in gravity where it tugged at your innards in the hundred different directions, combined into a cruel dirge. Sensitive little meatbag auditory organs popped, tongues scraped with the flavour of rust, bile burst up through their esophagi, organs jostled by the sonic and gravitic perturbations, and their sense of balance ruined- hurling them into a spinning freefall in an endless abyss.
Just with that weapon alone was almost enough to make Cauldron crumble.
Kurt tripped and scrabbled at the floor as if the room was doing a barrel roll. Barely point which way was up, much less use his Number Man power to calculate a defence; and Doctor Mother, being an unmodified and unpowered human, was in a similar state.
Hands clasped around her ears and blood leaking from between their clenched fingers. David and Keith momentarily caught off-guard as they attempted to activate their powers in such a way to avoid the same fate. And by process of elimination, that only left...
Rebecca exploded out of her seat and straight for me out of desperation and fear. That primal fear that drove one to act before they can never act again. Raven-black hair whipping at the speed as she rocketed through the scant 15 metres between us with the force of a missile.
And I welcomed it because my newest weapon required a test.
Calibrating {Hyperphase Blade}
An advanced Necron melee weapon whose power blade rapidly oscillates between dimensional states- severing matter with such totality that it defies known laws of physics. The thickest and densest of armours part at the blade's approach:
The blade's edge not even imparting any actual physical force. Instead, its esoteric dimension-warping inner workings wafered between the two faces of the blade terminated molecular bonds across - prying matter apart to deal its gruesome work: slicing effortlessly through flesh, bone and sinew as if they were not there.
And at the cold edge of this Necron blade, they may as well not be.
Such was the weapon's fearsome reputation that, even among the aeons-old Necrons, the blade was a mark of status among Necron Lords and their favoured Lychguards.
Black as obsidian and glowed green from the Necron sigil across its cheeks, the grim axe-blade was attached opposite to the Thunder Hammer on my Omnissian Axehammer- once a symbol of authority as a Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus now a symbol of my Xenarite tech-heresy.
"Raaaagghhh!" Rebecca furiously roared as her black-gloved fist met my armoured belly and I simply stood there without even recoiling. The immense kinetic force of an unstoppable object deflected by the physics-defying armour plates- the shockwave was strong enough to knock her allies off their feet.
Rebecca wasn't expecting me to tank a straight hit like that, and it gave me all the opening I needed. I swung my {Hyperphase Blade} fast enough to break the sound barrier- an arc of green light left in its wake as Rebecca froze mid-punch with her right arm extended.
That's when she froze too- brown eyes glancing down dumbly at where her right arm was rolling slightly on the floor. Proving that despite all her mental faculties offloaded to her shard, dear old Rebecca was still all too human. Almost unbearably so. She must have been having a bad day for some reason.
Rebecca screamed as the pain of losing an entire arm caught up with her.
Disbelief that a physical weapon was able to harm her.
This isn't happening! This can't be happening!
Disbelief.
"Hush now... save your screams for when I pluck out your last remaining eye."
"DOOR! CODE BLACK!" Rebecca desperately shrieked to finish Doctor Mother's orders. Five Doormaker portals began to form right underneath the five Cauldron members for them to fall into- the space beginning to warp right before my optics.
Heed! (5) separate dimensional dissonance caused by subspace manipulation matched to {Doormaker} witnessed in immediate vicinity
Activating {Gloom Prism} at 100% maxload...
I had come prepared for this. Necron {Gloom Prism} technology fought against Doormaker like two people fighting to close and open a faucet sink simultaneously.
But with Gloom Prism fighting against an entire Shard through all the portals currently active in its radius, it was fighting a losing battle. The hastily-built Nercron tech couldn't stop the formation of doors, so I directed it to do the next best thing: rather than try to close the dimensional faucet so to speak, it clogged all the drains instead.
They looked so relieved that the portals worked despite my efforts- hope glittering in their eyes as their respective portals formed underneath them. Of course, what else could I do but snuff out their annoying hopes of escape?
"Don't worry, at least I know where to find Doormaker and Clairvoyant now too."
And immediately, a look of dread coloured their faces as their thoughts echoed in the warp for me to pick up.
Terror that you will attack Cauldron's most vital infrastructure, and doom their entire operation.
He knows about Doormaker and Clairvoyant!
Terror.
"Yes... I certainly do. And very soon, there truly won't be anywhere left for you to run or hide."
Their greatest Thinker, dead. Their greatest Brute, vulnerable. The most important infrastructure to their operations, soon to be nullified. Five Doormaker portals opened underneath the five utterly terrified Cauldron members for them to fall into and ferried to relative safety. Even now, they didn't get far- only elsewhere on this compound, and for as long as my {Gloom Prism} was active, the rest of Cauldron were trapped here.
Synchronising {Logis Acceleritas Mk. III} with Cryptek Dimensionalist Protocols
Residual dimensional fractals indicate Doormaker and his Clairvoyant not present in the compound. Will require scanning locations of recent Doormaker portal activity around the compound to track to the source.
Appraising nearby Doormaker portal activity... standby...
Just a matter of staying here and absorbing the data. So, it would seem that they will have a headstart in running. Unfortunately, having the Gloom Prism at 100% also meant that my own portal was shut- so no immediate reinforcements at my location, but that didn't mean I couldn't open it elsewhere on this Earth. Or that I didn't already have boots on the ground.
After all, why would I ever assault Cauldron's base alone?
" Report. "
" Consecration of Local Noosphere achieved... Reciting closing prayers. "
" All 220 units of the 3rd Chloe-Skitarii Maniple have arrived at the area of operations. "
" Anti-aircraft emplacements blessed and calibrated for {Triumvirate} targets, Forgelord. "
" {Gloom Prism} network deployed around the perimeter. Probability of Cauldron escape through Doormaker portal, 65447:1. "
I glanced at the three slips of paper left on the desk. The three orders that Doctor Mother had directed, that Contessa had written, that the Number Man approved, and that the Triumvirate attempted to execute. The promise that I had made to Dragon during that debrief ringing in my head, how I was mere seconds away from losing her, and how they planned to take those seconds away.
Emotion-Dampening Protocols active at 100% maxload!
Emotion bleed-through detected!
This was no time for mercy. No time for it at all. Cauldron was going to end right here and right now.
" All weapon restrictions lifted. Rearm if you must. Envelope and purge this entire compound of all unwanted life. "
" Define criteria for unwanted life, Forgelord? "
" All of it. "
" We hear and obey, O' Forgelord. "
And out in the distance on those woodland hills that surrounded the compound- from underneath the tall oaks and thick green brushes emerged figures in Mars-Red robes, their eyes a blazing green as they advanced upon the compound and the cruellest weapons that the Mechanicus could conceive thrumming in their hands. A soulless steel tide devoid of fear, hesitation and mercy.
[Brockton Bay - North-western city limits]
The snow-covered pine trees rose high above Dragon's head.
All around her in the deep snow and the dark wood, several squads of Chloe-Skitarii in their customary flowing red robes and platemail attended to the shallow trench that was gouged into the forest floor as if carved by some massive flaming sword. Armoured hands dug into the snow to retrieve pieces of her Suit to be loaded onto the Thunderhawk.
"= Any news from Magos? =" She prompted one of the Chloes.
" None, Mistress. " the blonde gynoid replied with a crisp salute, " The 3rd maniple garrisoning the manufactorum reports that the Forgelord is still preoccupied with his project. Furthermore, salvaging action of the Dragonflight Suit Desig. 'Astaroth' has been completed. Omnispex scans show no more fragments within 80m of the crash. Orders, Mistress Dragon?"
Dragon was honestly feeling worried now: Magos hadn't checked up with her after a whole fifteen minutes. In human terms, he may as well have had her on 'seen' for an entire day. It was likely nothing- just the new relationship nerves.
He was just focusing all his energy on monitoring Cauldron, however she couldn't help but be worried all the same. They were going to assault Cauldron's base soon. The Triumvirate and all the Cauldron resources that they had with them. Including a very intimidating Thinker 12.
It was hard to calculate how they could win this upcoming fight with so many variables in their enemies' capabilities still unknown, but Magos seemed confident- likely having something up his sleeve.
"= Move onto the next crash site. I'll personally escort the Thunderhawk back to my wing at the manufactorum. ="
" We hear and obey, Mistress Dragon. "
She will check up on him, just in case Cauldron has detected his efforts.
[A Security Room elsewhere in the compound]
The pain in her gut and arm stump were almost blinding now as Rebecca swooped in to catch the Doctor Mother as they fell through the wavering Doormaker portals.
"This isn't where Code Black was meant to take us..." She exhaled in pain and frustration as she looked at the brightly lit security surveillance room that they were dropped in.
Floor, walls, ceilings were all white save for the yellow "06-10" painted on the wall opposite of the wall of CCTV monitors. Which meant that they were still in the same square-kilometre of compound, and not hop-scotched through the farthest reaches of the Cauldron Compound across the myriad of Earths in an effort to baffle Thinkers, Strangers and Movers.
Cauldron's Compound was a disjointed, labyrinthian design stretched across multiple earths, connected only via Doormaker portals. Entire wings were continents apart, and more 'volatile' areas like the holding cells were even more judicious in their spacing. A necessary measure in this volatile reality that they lived in and the role they played.
Ensuring that even if one location fell to unexpected power interactions from their experiments and customers, it was already isolated and contained, and whatever losses were easily recouped. And the less said about the possibility of Scion discovering their main base with butchered remains of his mate, the better.
Doormaker did his best despite the disruption though- at least putting her with Doctor Mother. Rushing over to a first-aid cabinet, Rebecca stared at the single metal 1.33 keg of restorative liquid before glancing to her missing arm then back to the keg. No, there was no hope for her arm, not even Eidolon could restore her eye, how much more an entire arm?
Resigned to her lost limb, she snatched the keg and carried it over to Doctor Mother who immediately began chugging it down.
"Door me, medical." she called out- steadying Doctor Mother, but when nothing happened for a few seconds, Rebecca just exhaled in frustration again. "Either Magos already killed Doormaker or he has found a way to stop new ones from forming. We're trapped here."
And more bad news piled onto them as the rumbles and explosions rocking the compound told her that Magos had brought his army along too. Like distant thunder, metallic booms resounded across the facility as the automatic lockdown commenced- shuttering entrances closed with triple-reinforced steel half a metre thick. It wasn't there to permanently contain, only to slow down trackers and hinder would-be escapees.
"We're rapidly running out of options." She muttered as she walked over to the first-aid cabinet and began wrapping up her stump in bandages as she considered their options.
Flee? Not without Doormaker, this was just one of the countless uninhabited Earths. There was nothing out of this compound but wilderness, and that was if they could dig through the hundreds of metres of rock and soil.
Regroup with the others and fight back? She clutched at her arm stump. They can't- she can't. Not with the array of exotic technologies that Magos has under his disposal. He was clearly aware of all their strengths and weaknesses. And most of all, Contessa's last words were still ringing in her ears.
'Path to defeating Magos?'
'N-none.'
Path to Victory couldn't find a way to stop him. But perhaps there was actually a way to defeat Magos and it was only PtV that was being nullified?
Rebecca drew her lips into a tight line.
No, it just wasn't feasible. Because even if there was a way to beat him, they were in no position to coordinate a counterattack just now when they were still in the middle of Magos' ambush.
Glancing over to the wall of monitors, she could easily spot where Keith, David and Kurt had landed- practically at the other end of the compound and fairly separated from each other unlike her and Doctor Mother. All three of them were still reeling and recovering from Magos' sonic attack. David, still in his green Eidolon costume, was taking the time to build up new powers, and heal himself with it. Keith in his blue and white Legend outfit was in his Breaker form recovering in the generator room. And Kurt in his usual suit and tie was drinking down restorative kegs from a nearby medicine cabinet at another staff room.
"Magos doesn't know what he's doing." Doctor Mother gasped out after finally finished gulping down the restorative liquid and staggered to her feet, "We have to survive this somehow."
"No question about that." Rebecca said in reply, "Maybe we can reason with him, tell him that this was all for the sake of humanity?"
"That was the second to the last step on the Path we were on." the older woman sighed, "We would have briefed him after handing the Dragonslayers to him as recompense for Dragon's death."
"Could there have been a Path that didn't involve Dragon's death?"
"I suppose we will never know now." Doctor Mother sighed helplessly as she glanced at one of the screens: Magos was still where he was at the conference room- his red-robed frame standing stock still beside Contessa's headless corpse.
Rebecca frowned. Their best Thinker, perhaps the greatest Thinker in existence, killed as easily as a cape could kill a civilian. She couldn't say that she knew the woman as much despite the long decades of working with her, but she knew one thing: even if they made it out, this loss was going to be felt.
"We need to press on, despite this loss." Doctor Mother announced as she walked over to the security console- the myriad of levers and switches and buttons spread across its metal frame, "Annex 6, Extension 10...
"Yes, one of the cell blocks for the deviant subjects." Rebecca recalled with a nod. Those considered too monstrous or too unstable or too interesting to be released without being studied, dissected and disposed of.
"We need to... We need to release the subjects." Doctor mother grimaced, "All the chances we can get, we need them now. Our work can't be stopped if humanity is to survive."
Rebecca saw the logic in that despite not approving of it. Hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned, desperate times called for desperate measures yet again.
"If they can open a big enough gap in Magos' forces..." Rebecca proposed, "I might be able to fight through and evacuate us outside the portal interdiction field he has. It's risky, but it might work."
"As if we have a choice." Doctor Mother gave a heavy sigh as she flipped open the glass cover that protected an appropriately big red button, and rested her dark palm on it.
Doctor Mother shared a look with her before looking back at the button.
"Que Dieu nous aide. (God help us.)" she muttered as she leaned onto it- depressing it with a loud thunk, and immediately, the lights went off- filling the room with the red emergency lights as klaxons began howling throughout the base.
On the screens monitoring the cell block, the glass containment walls raised to let out the subjects, or Case 53s as the PRT calls them. And hesitantly, they exited their cells.
Some walked on two feet- nothing more than confused prisoners free of their cells.
But the vast majority of them were less than human in shape. Others crawled out on all fours and some even skittering out on dozens of feet and hands. Others still rolled and oozed out of their cells. Many of them, nothing more than mounds of misshapen flesh, plants and... other unspeakable things.
Semi-sentient slabs of butchered meat heaped atop of each other to the height of man lurching forward on tongue and claws. Parodies of animals that snorted and bleated as they dragged themselves across the floor with a swarm of human arms. Drooling, hungry plants that crawled like spiders.
Teethed invertebrates that chittered as they squirmed along the floor- fleshy tentacles waving in the air as they delighted in their freedom.
However, the most alarming of them all was the screen that wasn't featuring a Case 53. Because it wasn't what they had unleashed, but at what they had attracted- like lighting a campfire in the dark woods- attracting all things that can see in the dark.
In a monitor showing a room in red emergency lights, glowing green trinary optics stared right up at the camera as if sensing what they had just done, the wriggling mass of metal tentacles on his back rising like a nest of parasites awakening at the approach of living flesh, and the camera's audio picked up the words.
"There you are."
The button exploded like a firecracker, and Doctor Mother shrieked in pain as her palm was shredded into bloody ribbons.
Rebecca immediately rushed over with a roll of bandage and antiseptic. Picking and pulling out the pieces of plastic that she could spot with her remaining hand. But it was made even worse when the emergency lights died. and only the sounds remained as she treated the older woman's wounds.
The distant sounds of metallic skittering echoed out at inhuman speeds- a nigh invincible mass of impossibly sharp blades tracking them ceaselessly in the darkness.
"Que Dieu nous aide." Rebecca echoed softly as she settled down onto the chair.
[Magos Manufactorum]
Dragon came home to a warzone. A literal one.
A monolithic portal like a metal stonehenge hummed in the centre of a choir of servitors singing Binharic hymns to a 'Machine-God.' This was to be their beachhead into Cauldron's base, surrounded by Chloe-Skitarii, and even Magos' {Atrax Siegewalker} at the ready to fire at anything hostile that comes out of the portal. A platoon of Chloe-Skitarii, armed and armoured to the teeth, marched through the shimmering blue portal.
"What's going on?" Dragon asked a nearby pair of Chloe-Skitarii manning a {Torsion Cannon} heavy weapon emplacement. The same ones that had torn literal chunks out of the Endbringer Behemoth. Magos wasn't playing around. The two Chloes glanced at her with cheerful smiles.
" Master is conducting an offensive operation against Cauldron, Mistress. " They answered in unison, and Dragon was immediately alarmed.
"Already?! Why wasn't I informed?"
The two Chloes tilted their heads in confusion- blonde ponytails shifting on their red robes and armour.
" The Chloe-Network has not logged any orders to inform you of such, Mistress. "
A squad of medicae-servitors were huddled over something, and rushing closer, Dragon saw what they were working on: Contessa, Cauldron's Thinker 12. With her body nowhere to be found, her decapitated head was being attached to a series of life-support machines in a horrific parody of life.
Contessa's decapitated head immediately locked eyes with her- desperate blue eyes meeting her brown ones. And the former boogeyman of Cauldron panickedly mouthed something to her. Disconnected from lungs, there was no voice, but Dragon's lip-reading routines were still reading it clearly.
The decapitated head of the woman talked and talked without a sound, and Dragon's circuits filled and filled with horror as she parsed what was just said.
Dragon knew that despite their horrid atrocities, extensive human experimentation and appalling ineptitude at it, Cauldron was still earnestly attempting the same thing she and Magos were: Saving humanity.
Even without condoning their heinous methods, she understood their painful desperation, and she was honestly reluctant to judge them harshly for their pursuit in saving the most lives... for striving to fulfill the Greater Good.
But that wasn't what Contessa was telling her.
Instead, Dragon was more terrified over a selfish reason- that she was going to lose her boyfriend in the worst way she could: That if he continues down this path, he's going to lose himself to his anger and... Magos simply won't be Magos anymore. And he will no longer be the person she fell in love with.
She immediately rushed forward to the portal, the {Onager Dunecrawler} containing her bio-computer core following close behind her.
For his own sake, she had to stop him.
[Cauldron Compound - Outer Wing]
They brought light and song to this dark place. She and her doll-sisters did.
Chloe-33 and twelve of her doll-sisters in Clade Theta-1 of the 3rd Chloe-Skitarii Maniple, advanced into the compound- breaching the walls before charging deep into the underground. The dimness and the blaring red of the interior didn't bother them at all. Their cybernetic eyes saw through the dark halls as clearly as if it was all fully lit.
Her {Slutty Skitarii} doctrina wafer was upgraded to a {Slutty Skitarii Alpha} after her service in the Defence of Brockton Bay. All the Chloe-Skitarii who served on the frontlines had such an upgrade. A generous 67% increase in processing speed and a 300% increase in data capacity compared to {Slutty Skitarii} doctrina wafers.
Her once plain metal breastplate was replaced by a full power armour that encased her entire form- her flowing Mars-Red robes fluttering around it as she charged onwards. It unfortunately increased undressing time by over 5000%, but Chloe-33 did not mind, because she was anything her master wished her to be.
And what her master wished her to be right now was to be his angel of death.
Most of the malformed organics in their way didn't see them coming, even as Chloe-33 and her doll-sisters opened fire. And the scant few that did were far too slow to react to them. The Motive Force in their circuits and servomotors travelling many magnitudes faster than organic muscles and nerve tissue.
Their {Irradiation Projectors}- dense and blocky armaments that terminated with radar dish-like muzzles- unleashed powerful blasts of vorpal cross-spectrum radiation in precise volleys. The blasts were invisible to most organic eyes, but to Chloes, it was like a stream of beautiful rainbows made of infrareds and ultraviolets. It was breathtaking.
The surging rays of radiation imparted little physical force, and for a few milliseconds, there was confusion in the eyes of the organics as they felt a slight nudge wash through their entire body like a stiff breeze.
Then came the effects as organics caught under the onslaught of radiation- the water in their bodies bubble and boil and their organic tissues blasted apart on a cellular level by the potent ionising radiation. Flesh fell off their flaking bones as toxic black sludge. But the most curious effect in Chloe-33's opinion was a particular sound:
The half-whimper escaped their mouths as the steam from their boiled respiratory system rose and they tried to scream.
And for the organics that weren't biological, two members of her clade also wielded man-portable but still very heavy {Eradication Beamers}. Blowing away their master's enemies like a leaf blower did sand sculptures- reducing their peculiar anatomies to dust in a flash not unlike bright camera flashes.
Some tried to hide behind walls- thinking it would shield them from their Irradiation Projectors until they were boiled all the same- flesh sticking to their cover. Others attempted to fight back when they could. Fire, ice, lightning, wind and blasts of unknown energies flying from their protein-based limbs.
And wherever Chloe-33 and her doll-sisters' massively increased reflexes couldn't dodge, their sanctified power armours shrugged off as they responded in kind. The offending organics promptly hosed down in a concentrated blaze of flesh-melting fire.
Chloe-33's processors came to a stark realisation.
We are making these creatures so beautiful
Attaching the picts and vids, she promptly broadcasted the discovery throughout the Noosphere so that her doll-sisters could learn.
The walls and floors painted where their Projectors touched- the carbon silhouettes of their targets forming complex murals like the most striking oil-on-canvas painting. The dull colours of organics howling and screaming as they were turned into living pyres of beautiful ultraviolets and infrareds- the stray subatomic particles making them sparkle like a sea of stars.
Their discordant screaming made into a lovely song by the precise rhythmic humming of radioactive decay. And even as they melted into a puddle, it was like a beautiful bonfire of fantastic colours swirling in the air as it sang a soft melody.
Corridor #012 cleared by Clade Theta-1. Continuing onto Corridor #013...
They had brought light and song to this dark place, and there were many more places to visit.
And as they advanced deeper into the compound, Chloe-33's complex social emulator routines thought how much of a shame it was: That the organics will never appreciate the wondrous art that they left behind. Their feeble eyes seeing nothing but blackened skeletons and melted radioactive corpses that lay in deafening silence in the darkness.
[Cauldron Compound Exterior]
Dragon collapsed to her hands and knees, dry heaving onto the grass as her Dunecrawler core followed her through the portal.
{Warp Gates}. Instantaneous teleportation technology that could link any two locations in existence. Across the solar system, across the galaxy, across alternate earths. It was the type of technology that will- without a shadow of a doubt- change the world. And yet...
With a frightened shiver, she glanced over her power-armoured shoulder to the gate-like portal behind her.
... it was absolutely unnatural. She did not know how else to describe it. Why else would she, an AI in a gynoid body, be attempting to evacuate the contents of a stomach that she did not have? That scant 700 milliseconds she had spent 'in transit' made her feel so small and vulnerable.
Whatever underlying scientific principles upon which Magos' piece of technology worked on was all together estranged from reality. Her own power, the same one that allowed her to comprehend the technology of other Tinkers, couldn't parse it- just a kaleidoscope of nonsensical colours and melodies swirling together.
Coupled with the ambient radiation in the immediate area was almost to the level of a Behemoth attack, it only told her one thing... Magos was deathly serious in his attempt to eradicate Cauldron.
"= Magos! Killing them all out of anger isn't going to help! =" She shouted at the sprawling structure just down the valley. Her words flew into the Noosphere- hoping that his communication infrastructure was robust enough to reach him, and his reply was immediate.
" Dragon. "
She had never heard him sound so much like a... a soulless machine.
" I will not allow them to live and carry on after trying to kill you and making me watch. "
"= I'm not trying to save them, I'm trying to save you! ="
" I know what Contessa said to you. "
"= ... You do? ="
" Did you really think that exchange that took place in my own manufactorum eluded me? But I can't fault you for listening to her when your processes aren't hardened against Thinker powers.
Not that it will achieve anything, her Path to Victory had once again proved unable to account for Warp tech and its nigh infinite capabilities, and as a consequence failed Cauldron. For the last time. "
"= You're only confirming what she said... =" Dragon softly murmured, "= We'll stop Cauldron, but not at the cost of you losing yourself to this cold rage... this isn't you, and I don't think I could fall in love with a different person. Please... ="
Long seconds passed by without a reply, and she could feel that he was weighing it seriously. All the while, Dragon held hope that her cheesy but still all too sincere confession was enough to reach him.
" Very well, you've succeeded in changing my mind. "
Dragon smiled in relief, but the feeling didn't last long as Magos spoke up again.
" ...But I'm not stopping until I've extracted my pound of flesh. They're going to wish they never faced me- one way or another. "
"No! It doesn't have to be this way- this isn't like you!" She pleaded right before gathering her courage, "I'll stop you myself if I have to!"
" That's unnecessary- I am almost done here. So just stay put. "
"What do you mean by that?"
" You do not want to know. "
"What are you going to do to them?"
...
"Magos? MAGOS!"
Grabbing her power armour's helmet, she locked the stoic dragon helmet into place before charging into the compound. A feeling of dread at what Magos had planned. And as she descended into the darkness, Dragon could only whisper aloud.
"I don't know if you can hear me, but... Machine-God, please don't let me be too late."
[The Security Room]
Dragon had a point, but I wasn't about to let bygones be bygones with Cauldron. But I saw that they did indeed hold something of value: Trophies that will command speechless awe from all who would behold them. And all I had to do was to drag Cauldron into the dark- cowering in fear as I claim my trophies from them. After all, I had already claimed my trophy from Contessa and I only needed to go back and claim the one from Number Man.
I peeked from the vent that I was hiding in.
The small room was dimmly lit by CCTV monitors- tinting the room and its occupants in green light. Like animals in cramped cage. Alexandria clutched her arm stump and covered her eye protectively. Legend feebly recovered in his breaker form. Eidolon paced restlessly back and forth the small room, and Doctor Mother squinted at the CCTV monitors in search of me. The air was thick with their fear, their hearts beating wildly in their fragile ribcages. Just a bit more and my Trophies will be ready for... claiming, and the Cauldron Collection will be complete.
So I gave the signal to push them over the edge.
tnk* *tnk* *tnk*
A soft metallic knocking came from the vault door of the security room, and all eyes immediately locked on the door.
Dragon was far, far too late.