[Cauldron Compound] (Fifteen minutes before Dragons' arrival)
Kurt, Number Man, Harbinger, whatever Magos knew him by ran through the dim halls of the compound illuminated in a macabre blood red.
His power manifested as an elegantly comprehensive mathematical notation before his eyes. Revealing the underpinnings of the world he could see. Lengths, vectors, permutations and probabilities. Even the echoes of battle in the distance could be accurately calculated.
They were already inside the compound; and more importantly, they had them vastly outnumbered and surrounded. Whatever Magos had used to abort Doormaker's portals had now spread across this entire wing. Odds of slipping past Magos' forces were peaking at 0.01%. The numbers didn't lie.
His grip on his combat knife tightened in frustration. The only weapon he had on him at the time of Magos' arrival..
They had been so close as well. So very close.
It was supposed to be during this interrupted meeting that he was going to bring up the numbers he had arrived at. How Magos was the final piece in their puzzle. Unlike the Elite who developed too slowly, Magos had a timeframe of growth that would have satisfied even the most pessimistic of projected deadlines to the end of the world.
So much so that it wouldn't have even mattered if Magos wasn't completely under their thumb- his partial cooperation would have already been enough to fulfill most of their plans. There would have been no more need to threaten Dragon to gain Magos' cooperation. No need to incur his wrath.
A sharp crack echoed from the distance, followed by a resounding boom as even the emergency power died- plunging everything in total darkness, including himself.
Kurt sighed as he pulled out his phone to turn on its flashlight to partially illuminate the corridor in front of him. He didn't like being in the dark, his power was weakest when there was no accurate information to expound upon. He would rather be spotted with his flashlight than starved for information.
And due to the labyrinthian and interdimensional nature of the Cauldron Compound, the current layout of the current wing was unknown even to him.
He tripped when his foot collided with an unseen body laying on the floor.
"Just my luck, actually." He muttered to himself as he staggered closer- hoping to find something on the body that might help him. Crouching down and reaching out, he saw that it was a woman's: mutilated and in a black pinstripe sui- His hand recoiled and he shot up to his feet as he realised that this wasContessa's body.
How did it get all the way over h...
He froze just as a metal tentacle- about as thick as a human finger- extended out from the darkness.
And Kurt could only watch as the chainsaw-scalpel tip of the tentacle lightly tapped the flashlight button of his phone and plunged everything back into pitch black.
The equations appeared in his eyes. Movement vectors, angles of attack and possibilities of success. Conclusion: No hope of fighting back. Not in the dark, not this close, not with his back turned, not with just a knife and not against thirty-six different tentacle limbs of varying functions and worryingly uniform degrees ofrazor sharpness.
"I surrender." He said with his steadiest voice, dropping his knife and letting it clatter on the floor. And the sound of the metal edge being lazily dragged scraped softly before being picked up.
The mathematical notation shifted- showing the probability of his eventual fate in Magos' hands, and he found the probability of his survival worryingly lower than expected. He wasn't afraid to die, though he obviously prefered that he wouldn't.
"I surrender." He repeated- a bit more emphatically.
But long seconds continued to tick by without any response, the deafening silence and the pitch black darkness only reminding him how powerless he was in a vacuum of information.
Even the distant fighting and explosions seemed to have died down- leaving him with nothing apart from his own desperately calmed breathing as more and more cold metal tentacles continued to coil around his wrists and around his neck. The mathematical notation shifted with each passing second, and the probability of quick death plummeted rapidly... meanwhile the only probability that rose was the probability of him wishing that hecoulddie. Because being the captive of a cybernetics Tinker holding a deep grudge? That was cause for concern for anyone sane.
The numbers don't lie... The world was going to end, a great multitude of people were going to die, and he was going to be dearly wishing he was one of them.
"There is no need for violence.You've won." He gulped- his Adam's apple bumping against tightening metal. "You have proven that Cauldron is no match for you. So claim it all as is your right as the victor. Our assets are yours. Hundreds of billions worth in liquid assets..."
A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face.
Then the silence was broken as precisely sixteen different chainsaw-scalpels whirred away inches away from his skull and abdomen. And all the while, his power inferred a precise range of numbers to describe how impossibly sharp they must be to make that specific pitch and sound as they sliced the air.
And as they descended on him, The Number Man found out first hand... that the numbers didn't lie.
[50 metres away from the Security Room]
David momentarily turned his head- peering down the hall behind him from where the bloodcurdling scream came echoing through the once-silent underground halls.
It was just so dark.
He squinted his eyes- the green light of his helmet now turned to full could illuminate a good 20 metres in all directions, but that horrid scream seemed to come from farther than that. Seeing that it was a lost cause trying to see where the scream came from, he instead turned his attention to what was in front of him from what little his light could illuminate: a seemingly endless hallway of doors.
Then even his helmet light went out- flickering weakly as it whined before dying with a tiny pop of glass.
"No... no no no no." He whispered as he slapped at the metal of his helmet just by his jaw. "Turn on!"
And when it failed to produce any result, he raised a hand and projected an energy shield- giving him back his light to a degree.
Despite being the most powerful parahuman in the world, there was still something unsettling about all this: Deep underground in the silence that strangled the life out of every sound, surrounded on all sides by the encroaching darkness, and isolated from anyone who could ever help him while the shadows seemed to shift as if something was moving through them. The possibility that he could die at any moment... It was so much worse in the dark.
In his mind, he clutched his three powers closer.
A Brute power that mimicked Crawler's power to an extent- his internal organs healing and gaining redundancy as they are taxed or outright damaged. A Shaker power that controlled wind- allowing him to sense and control air pressure for wide range detection, some offensive capability and notable flight. And Striker projection power that materialised a malleable energy shield and sword that could absorb other energy from attacks.
Will it be enough? He would be lying if he said it was, but it was all that he had built up so far. He had already lost once before, and that was during a time that the fight and himself weren't even being taken seriously. Now? Now it was very, very serious.
Then he heard it. Just beyond the reach of his light and at the end of the corridor in front of him: A familiar feminine voice's whisper gliding through in the air.
"Doctor Mother, quickly!"
"Rebecca?" he muttered- perking up as he began gliding forward slightly faster. His fist raising his golden energy shield just a bit higher as he heard footsteps in the distance. Endless doors passed by him as he moved down the corridor.
"Keep up. We can make it if we move fast!"
Hope rising in his chest, he flew forwards faster too- following the urgent whispers of Rebecca and Doctor Mother's hurried sprinting.
"We're almost out of here!"
"Rebecca! Doctor Mother!" He called out to them- just the hint of desperation for not wanting to be left behind. Not here.
There! A metal door slammed shut just as the golden light of his energy shield reached it. He made to follow them, but the door was locked tight.
"Rebecca, it's me!" He cried out- banging his fist against the metal door. His Shaker power granting him a preternatural sense of the air pressure, and more importantly, informing him of the presence of people panting and moving behind the door. "You can unlock the door, the hallway was clear behind you two!"
And promptly, the door's lock clicked open, and relief flooded his being.
"Thank god I found you two!" He smiled as he grabbed the doorknob and-
"David, what are you doing?!" Rebecca's whisper hissed urgently, "We're over here!"
Ice flooded his veins as he stiffened completely. And with his hand still on the doorknob... he slowly looked over his shoulder and saw Rebecca- black hair frazzled and brown eyes wide in panic as she peeked through the gap of a metal vault door some ways down the corridor that he had hurried past.
The dim bluish TV light from her room cutting slightly into the dark hallway.
"Get in,quickly!" She urgently insisted- a panic in her brown eyes.
"But-" He muttered disbelievingly as he glanced back at the metal door. His power now telling him that there was no one behind it. Nothing moving, nothing breathing- just a cold stillness in the room behind this door. Part of him wanted to open it still. To prove that there was nothing to be scared of. To prove that he wasn't scared.
He didn't glance back as he glided to Rebecca- the vault door swinging open from her strength as he darted past her.
And once he was inside, she pulled the vault-like door shut. However, for a split second, David looked over Rebecca's shoulder and saw the rusted door- the same one that he had been banging on- creak open an inch or two.
And through the shadowy gap stood a glimpse of someone in a black pinstripe suit.
[The Security Room]
The vault door was sealed air-tight behind them with a boom.
"Keith, what happened to you?" David muttered. Keith had always been the most photogenic and handsome of them, he could admit. The face of the PRT. Not anymore.
His white and blue suit, torn and bloody. A long strip of hair and scalp was missing over his right eye over his skull and almost to the back of his head- exposing the pale crescent of skull. The middle and ring fingers of his left hand missing. Chunks of flesh were missing from all over him- only partially hidden by the bandages that they had run out of.
"I-insects." Keith shivered from the too-recent memory. "A whole pool of them dropped onto me. Ate at me even while in my Breaker form. Barely made it out."
"And Kurt?" David muttered, already knowing the answer.
"He hasn't turned up."
"We're the Triumvirate, dammit!" Eidolon shouted- kicking the reinforced concrete wall. But even to his ears, his voice sounded desperate. Scared. The bravado of a man lost in a narrow cave- shouting to himself that his strength will save him.
"That doesn't make us special, David." Rebecca whispered. And as he looked at his three compatriots, David was reminded once again that he was the only one who wasn't injured or outright maimed.
Rebecca. A shadow of her former glory. Sitting down on the lone couch of the room that was coated with her drying blood- long black hair wilted and her expression looking like she permanently locked in a grimace of pain from her lost arm and her shredded abdomen.
Her famed invulnerability- a dream of the past against this enemy. Her lone hand paranoidly guarding her last eye that was promised to be taken from her- as if expecting it to be plucked away from her when she's not looking.
Keith. A partially eaten man. Floating near the ceiling in his breaker form as he sipped at what little energy the monitors gave him- the only reason that he had survived his wounds thus far.
Perhaps out of all of them, he had the most to lose: He was a man with a warm house to go back to, a loving marriage to be welcomed home with, a child to hold again... and he stood to lose it all- leaving them vulnerable in a doomed world.
Doctor Mother. The lone human in a room full of frightened and broken parahumans. Seated at the security console's office chair. Her dark eyes glancing between her bandaged lump of a hand, and the wall of black screens. Watching as her life's work in saving humankind disintegrated right before her very eyes.
And with them in spirit: the fragile flickering hope of humanity. One that they had sacrificed so much for, that so many other people had to be sacrificed for. And it would die with them... if they were even allowed to die at all.
"And we should do what? Lay down and die? Surrender? " David demanded.
But before anyone could answer...
*tnk* *tnk* *tnk*
... Soft knocking came from the vault door of the security room, and all eyes immediately locked on the door.
"It's too dark to make out who it is." Doctor Mother reported as she squinted at the camera feed of just outside the security room.
*tnk* *tnk* *tnk*
David felt sweat slide down the back of his neck as he stared as well. But more than that- he felt anger. They shouldn't be like this! Cowering in this room just a few paces across from wall to wall- like rats in a hole.
He stepped up when no one else did.
"David, what are you doing?!" Keith shouted as his human form shakily shifted from out of his Breaker form..
"David, don't open it, we should get a plan together first!" Rebecca shouted as she floated up with a wince as well.
"No, I won't be ruled by fear!" David roared defiantly as he stepped forward. "If our enemy was so powerful, we would have been attacked and killed by now which means that our defeat isn't certain yet. We can still win!"
This was the right choice, he couldfeelit.
This was their plan B after all. If Cauldron couldn't win with its armies, then it would win with its heroes. For so long they have been looking for a solution to his waning power. Doctor Mother had been of the opinion that the solution lay in booster shots of Cauldron Vials, but he had always believed otherwise.
No, he knew that if he could just face a worthy opponent, he would be able to tap into that well of might and powers that he felt deep within him. Then even with Scion, they could win against. And this was it! He could feel his power rising in him- like he had finally tapped into that hidden spring of power within him. This was the worthy opponent that he had always been after! The one to unlock his true potential.
They could still win this.All of this.
Light truly shined greatest in the dark!
*tnk* *tnk* *tnk*
With a dismissive gesture of his hand, he pushed open the vault door with a great pressure of air- the vault door slamming against the wall in a loud boom as he burst out the corridor- his golden energy sword and shield shining brightly.
"Face me!" he challenged the... unlit and empty corridor. Looking around with his air pressure power, he didn't find anything within a 100 metres that could be construed to be anything apart from walls, floors, doors and ceilings. Just empty corridors stretching into the distance and into utter blackness, white tiles on white walls illuminated by his golden energies.
"David, you fucking idiot." Rebecca hissed. "This isn't the time for-"
Then,thatdoor creaked upon again.
"What was that?" Keith whispered- hand glowing with his power as he looked at the open door.
"No, don't! It's a tra- URK!" David tried to warn him, but before he could react, something yanked at him- as if his belt was suddenly caught on a runaway train.
He fell sideways through the air but managed to catch the edge of the doorway with his fingertips even as the ghostly force continued to pull at him as held on for dear life. With his current powerset only granted him a meagre form of superstrength, and it felt like he was fighting against the gravity of a dozen earths.
He tried to draw on more powers, his reawakened power level enabling him to draw on powers like he had when he was younger- reaching the power and skill to match a veteran user of that power within a mere minute or two. But unfortunately, this was one of those times when every second was dire.
"David, take my hand!" Rebecca shouted as she rushed forward- her lone hand extended out to him, and he was about to, but he spotted something. His blue-green eyes widened in alarm and that distraction was enough. Their hands failed to meet, and his own grip slipped- rocketing him away into the darkness by some invisible demon.
"Rebecca!" David desperately shouted to her, "B-"
The saw were the horrified faces of Rebecca, Keith, Doctor Mother watching him get pulled away... and the headless body of Contessa standing close behind them.
'Behind you.'
Her lone arm still outstretched where she tried to grab him, Rebecca could only watch helplessly with the others as the golden light of David's power slashed away at the walls as he tried to free himself from whatever had him in its grasp. Then suddenly he was pulled around a corner. The golden light of his power swallowed up by the darkness. Defiant roars of fury became screams of terror, and she knew then that there was no saving him.
"DAVID!" Keith yelled as he went to chase after him, but she was quick enough to catch him by the shoulder before he could rush off.
"Don't!" she told him, "We can't split up!"
"We can still save David if we-"
But at her sombre look, Keith stopped- glancing between her and the now silent corridor that David's screams had disappeared to.
"Okay.. okay." He finally relented with a heavy sigh. "We should evacuate if we can."
"We will." Rebecca lied to herself and to Keith with a weak smile. She made the first step outside the security room and glanced down the trio of eerily silent corridors to her front, left and right. They were in no condition to fight, and certainly not in this oppressive darkness. But they had to try.
Leather shoes clicked against the tile floor, and Rebecca immediately recognised the sound of them. The precise gait. The specific brand of shoes. There was no mistaking who it was.
"Contessa?" She heard Doctor Mother recognise it too and the older woman was clearly horrified at the implication. All of them were.
Reacting immediately, Keith turned around and shot a luminous globe of blue light behind them, where it proceeded to zoom down the dark corridor and illuminating sections of it as it flew past.
9iThe shining globe continued to travel until it was like a light-blue pea of light in the distance- eventually hitting a wall... but not before illuminating a headless figure in a black suit walking toward them before the light died again.
Sufficiently alarmed, Keith immediately fired again- a searing hot beam of blue that travelled much faster- reaching the same distance in the blink of an eye at where the figure was. This time, there was nothing there. The beam blasting a ragged line on the concrete corridor walls.
"Tell me that I wasn't the only one who saw that..." He muttered- shaking his head. And Rebecca gritted her teeth. It was just a trick, a sick demoralisation tactic. It won't scare them, or at least that's what she told herself.
"We have to get going." she said in a measured tone, "Stay in front of me just in case, Doctor Mother... Doctor?"
Rebecca glanced around, but no, there was no one there except the two of them in this darkened corridor. The featureless doors around them, silent and shut.
"She was here just a second ago! She was righthere." Keith gestured to the spot of empty air between the two of them.
"Let's just keep moving." Rebecca said- making the hard decision as she pushed down the gnawing despair as they were helpless to prevent yet another ally from being lost.
"But-"
"Eyes peeled, Keith." She told him as her black-garbed frame brushed past his blue and white one. "There is nothing we can do apart from getting out of this alive."
"We can't just keep brushing off people's deaths like this!" Keith growled in frustration, "And why were Case 53s even being contained here?!"
Rebecca just glanced back at him for a moment- her mouth drawn into a grim line.
They shouldn't be yelling. Shouldn't be attracting attention like this if they were to get out of here unlike the others. But things weren't looking so good: Contessa, Kurt, Doormaker, Clairvoyant, Eidolon and Doctor Mother now had this compound as their tomb.
Cauldron as an organisation was done for, and she wasn't sure if they could rebuild it all in time to stop the eventual apocalypse.Ifshe got out of this. And even now... she didn't know how long she could keep lying to herself.
"You and I both know that you know the reason why." She whispered back- unwilling to look at him and meet his eyes.
Legend just sighed as he ran a hand through his hair- wincing slightly at how it tugged at his scalp wound.
"You lied to me." He whispered- lacking bite. But it still stung. "It wasn't Doctor Manton who was behind Case 53s... It was Cauldron all along. Why?"
"Because we have a much bigger threat."
"Big enough to conduct human experimentation on a global scale?" He challenged- weakly as if he knew deep down that they already had a good reason for it, and Cauldron certainly did.
"Scion." Rebecca said the name like it explained everything, and in a way, it did. "He's a ticking time bomb, and we're just counting down the years until he turns on all of humanity. We know that as a fact- it's why he came to Earth in the first place after all. Cauldron needed the winning combination of power sets to defeat him, or barring that, a large enough army of parahumans. The Case 53s were an unfortunate byproduct of the Cauldron Vials. And though I'll readily admit that what we've done is downright evil, it is-loathe I am to say it- a necessary evil when all of humanity is at stake. It truly is all or nothing."
And when he didn't respond, she glanced at him.
"Keith...?"
He had stopped- floating a few inches off the ground as he stared at what was in front of them: Kurt, Doctor Mother, David, and Contessa... all of them were standing in a line, hand in hand as dark ichor dripped from the ragged chop of their neck stumps.
Rebecca froze as well.
Then, she heard it. Chittering like insects crowding around one's ear, they had even bigger problems to worry about.
"Behind us!" She screeched in panic and they both glanced at the new threat for just a second. Behind them, a swarm of scarab-like insects with cyclopean green eyes emerged from the shadows, flooding the hallway like rushing water.
And by the time they glanced back at the headless corpses of their friends, they were gone- replaced by another swarm of those metal insects that also approached them. Surrounded on both sides, trapped between the opposing waves.
One flew close and Rebecca instinctively kicked it away- sending the metal insect crashing into a pool of its brethren. But she discovered to her horror that her steel-toed boot now had a hole in it just from that brief contact. Her invulnerability wasn't going to save her.
"Keith, don't freeze! We need to move!" She shouted at him, and that seemed to help him gather his wits. But he had- even for just a second or two- indeed frozen and that was all the insects needed: Just as he was about to turn and follow her lead, a few fell from the ceiling and landed on his back...
...And started eating him alive.
"Rebecca! Go! GO-AAAGGGGGHHH!" Keith shouted- just before his blue and white was covered in a hungry tide of dark metal, glowing eyes and sharp teeth.
Brown eyes wide and heart beating wildly in her chest, Rebecca told herself that she was left with no other choice as she turned her back to the last decades-old colleague that she had... and left him screaming to his fate.
With a final breathless 'I'm so sorry', she exploded into a furious flight- punching through the side room's wall to the next, and she just kept going. Room through room. Wall after wall- trying to drown out the echoing screams with the crash of concrete.
Until finally, she met a wall that she couldn't punch through. And she immediately realised that it was because there was nothing but bedrock behind the wall, and her flight powers didn't translate into swimming through solid rock.
Her heart beat like a caged animal in a butchery.
Turning around, she saw the countless glowing green eyes appear in the darkness- the hungry swarm having caught up to her easily. Keith didn't even slow them down, or more likely, there were too many of them to be sate. And she was next.
A pressure weighed down on her mind, and all the mistakes and tragedies in her life seemed to come back and haunt her.
No, this couldn't be how it ends. Not like this. Not in the dark so far away from the people she had sacrificed everything to save. And for a brief flash, she was a little girl again- sick and dying of cancer in that dark hospital room.
Alone and utterly terrified underneath the mask of stoicism and bravery that she had worn for the sake of her visiting family. Her mother's voice echoed from her memories.
'My little superhero.'
The swarm drew closer, and Rebecca took an unconscious step back- bumping against the cracked wall. She slid down the wall and to the floor.
She didn't even want to be a hero before all this.
"WAIT!" She cried out of sheer panic.
And to her surprise, the swarm did indeed wait- hanging in the air as if time froze for them. But it did not last long enough for her to feel relief, the flood of black metal parting like curtains to reveal their master: Magos.
He was much more intimidating in the dark- the metal of his many scalpel-tipped tentacles faintly reflecting the green light of the swarm's myriad eyes. And there didn't seem to be anything under the hood of his cloak apart from those tripartic green optics staring balefully at her.
" 'Wait?' "
And as he drew closer, the unholy pressure pressed down heavier on her mind like a growing pile of rocks, and making it hard to breath as if the air itself was laced with lead.
"Alexandria.The Alexandria finally gets her own taste of double-dealing treachery and overwhelming power for once, and all you can say is'Wait'?"
The pressure continued to bear down heavier and heavier on her mind, and screams rang in her ears.
"I mean, wait for what, meatbag? Wait for me to change my mind? Wait so that you can make another one of your attempts to enslave me into being your personal tinkertech vending machine? Wait for a few more seconds because you're too weak to face the consequences of your actions?!"
"No- I just- please!" Rebecca stammered out as it felt like her brain was on fire. She could feel the flames- searing against the back of her eyeball, scorching her eardrums and parching the heavy air she gulped down desperately. Magos' dark figure stood over her, and she felt metal tentacles grasp her wrists and ankles- pushing her spread eagle against the cold tiled floor. Her body wasn't responding. Her legs felt like jelly and her arms limp as Magos drew closer.
Then a metal hand reached out for her remaining eye, and Rebecca feltterror.
Powerless, scared, and about to be blinded for the rest of her life. All of it stacked on her mind proved too much for her, and for the first time in decades, Rebecca lost consciousness- her final thoughts dreading whatever horrors awaited her. A series of malevolent popping sounds following her into oblivion.
(A minute later)
Dragon arrived just in time to see Magos hunched over Alexandria, and she stared at him blankly. He didn't even look up from his 'work' as he spoke to her.
"Dragon, you are too late to stop me."
She just sighed in dismay.
"With this, Cauldron's spirit will be forever destroyed."
She sighed harder.
"I have taken their hopes and their dreams. But they still have one last thing for me to take..."
Magos' red robed frame leaned over the legendary heroine. Shredded pieces of her black costume lay in tatters on the floor around her, her modesty partially preserved by how she was covered head to toe in... colourful confetti of reds, blues and yellows.
Alexandria's navy blue panties were around her knees- right before Magos wrangled the delicate piece of fabric past the unconscious heroine's tall boots, and held his lacy prize aloft abovce his head.
"...Their dignity."
Dragon's armoured palm met the face of her helmet with a resounding clang. Meanwhile, the Chloe-Skitarii politely applauded by patting their armoured palms and making light metallic clicking fill the air. But no, Magos was far from done.
"And with the completion of the Cauldron Collection, their defeat by my hand (and consequent pissing themselves in terror) will now be forever commemorated, and there is no recovering from this."
Dragon watched Magos walk over to a Chloe holding up an empty painting canvas and pin Alexandria's panties on it. Alongside the Chloe, five other Chloes stood- similar frames in their hands that had 'Number Man' 'Eidolon' 'Legend' 'Contessa' 'Doctor Mother' etched on brass plates. Each one holding a similarly stained set of boxers and panties.
And for a few long seconds, Dragon said nothing. Her eyes just staring in disbelief at what she was seeing. Until finally, she inhaled with imaginary lungs before letting loose a long, drawn out: "Magos... what. the. flying.Fuck?"
"Your cheesy, but still very sweet plea actually convinced me." Magos shrugged, dispensing with the theatrics. Dragon had the grace to put on a blush. "Iwasgoing to perform inhumane experiments on them as an ironic twist of fate. Leave them soulless and piloted by their xeno-parasites like the Case 53s here. But you came along and convinced me otherwise; but unfortunately for them, I had already decapitated everyone for later vivisection by the time you had arrived. They'll walk it off... eventually."
"Yes! But..." Dragon agreed in exasperated hysterics, "...Did youreallyhave to collect the soiled underwear of Cauldron members?"
That was one sentence that she thought she would ever need to utter until now.
"Not at all!" Magos cheerfully and shamelessly replied. "But we can't just have these terminally-incompetent meatbags running around doing as they like! And if these fleshies are going to be our prisoners/employees, then they will need to be constantly reminded of the chain of command. And what better to remind them than a constant tangible proof of how they pissed themselves in fear of me. Well, apart from the loyalty chips that I'm designing, but we'll get to that later..."
"Better Contessa!" He called out, and the headless body of Contessa- no doubt animated by bionics clicked her heels in salute as Magos gave her orders, "Keep standing over Rebecca, you need to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. I want her to squeal like a little girl just like Eidolon did!"
And the body in the black pinstripe suit did so, walking over the unconscious heroine before raising her arms into a t-pose as she waited for Alexandria to wake.
"Better Rebecca!" He called out, and immediately, a convincing gynoid of PRT Director Costa-Brown rounded the corner and approached them. The tall latina gave a rather convincing frown of reluctant distaste as she met Magos' eyes.
"What is it, Magos?" She answered with a long suffering sigh.
"Report to your post." Magos ordered her, "We can't have the Chief-Director missing for any amount of time. And be sure to approve those real estate transactions and those groundwater pumping permits. I will not accept being outdone by those bloated meatbags over in Disney or in Nestle!"
"Fine, I'll do what I can." The Costa-Brown gynoid nodded before walking through a different portal.
"What are you planning?" Dragon asked.
"A Brave New World!" Magos told her with rising excitement in his voice as he took her power-armoured hand in his metal bionic ones. Tripartic optics looked at her.
"Terra, every possible version of it.Is ours.The natural resources of a billion Terras to exploit and all the countless billion more souls to save. Now that we have no lack of raw material resources, we can manufacture ALL our designs. We can make that dream of yours come true as well. We have a lot of work ahead of us! We're going to save the flesh-normies, all of them! From hunger, from poverty, from each other and from all the other woes of the human condition."
Her brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. She had a really bad feeling about that. Magos was planning something big, wasn't he? Still, she glanced over at the six framed underwear that the Chloes were carrying.
"Magos..." She began. "About this collection you have going..."
"Yes?"
But she paused. This was what she wanted, wasn't it?
The organisation that more or less ruled the world from the shadows was now under theirs to command. Their resources, connections, infrastructure and reputation... all of it could be put to actual effective use now instead of standing in for Eden. Their personnel now about to be forcefully employed to redeem themselves for their gross, malevolent incompetence.
And Magos? He was being his usual irreverent self as he once again made a positive difference on a scale no one has achieved before. And once again, he delivered.
This maniac was saving the world when everyone else was in the most bizarre and irreverent way possible- having the utter shamelessness to make that rousing speech about saving humanity while surrounded by the stained underwear of his fallen and thoroughly humiliated enemies.
She couldn't even criticise him when his methods worked unbelievably effectively, and she was the one sleeping with said maniac.
"Magos, goddammit..." Dragon sighed as she relinquished the point. "Fine, keep your underwear collection."
"Thanks, babe!" He celebrated- his tentacles waving excitedly in the air as one of them blasted confetti at her like it did with the naked Alexandria who was still unconscious on the floor.
Despite it all, Dragon couldn't help but smile. At least, she and Magos could work on saving humanity without any more hindrances. Things were going to be less complicated in the coming months. She just knew it.
With Cauldron neutralised and Magos' incomprehensible Warp Technology shrouding them, there was no one on any earth that could prove a hindrance and interfere with their plans to save humanity.
[Low Earth Orbit]
[Unit-03, or 'Simurgh' as her father had designated, possessed Directives that did not change: The collection of data and the function as a 'worthy opponent' and the preservation of the Cycle.
She used fulcrum points, hosts who were centres of mass for an entire society within a geographical area, to stimulate the data set. Minor conflict feeding the appropriate vectors that would self-reinforce and accelerate into greater conflict.
But then an aberrant fulcrum point had appeared within the system- once absent in the past and unseen in the future. Its influence was extensive- editing the expected histories and shifting the expected conclusions.
Continued study of its influence vector seemed to produce perfectly random futures, and no futures within her sight were able to supply an answer.
Reference, calculation, prediction… ad infinitum.
But then something broke the monotony of her purpose. The aberrant fulcrum caused [Unit-01, or as the local lifeforms had designated as 'Behemoth', to retreat earlier than anticipated. It demanded a slight escalation in her conflict generation efforts, but the event was otherwise beneath her notice.
At least until...
He also utilised an equally unknowable device that evoked unknown class of [Sensation] within this unit. Completely new information, very welcome in its addition. Though equally perplexing in how it was unreplicatable. Possible futures were she experimented with the technology within the device yielded nothing.
'[Error]'
She craved for more of the entirely new data set, but she could not go against her other Directive of being in a state of 'worthy opponent' in order to seek it out. Several lunar cycles more before she could act autonomously again.
And so, planetary solar cycles passed by without the device being utilised. Over the many planetary solar cycles, her song-sight had prognosticated that the device was now incorporated into the aberrant fulcrum's person and was used to great effect on another fulcrum, the one bearing the Compiler fragment.
And though she could not see into the aberrant fulcrum's domicile, she was still able to model them accurately enough to realise that the two fulcrums were likely attempting procreation.
And it was at that moment that she saw another aberration in the web of futures. Nanomachines of unknown design landed on her wing. Immediately, her sight aggregated data from multiple alternate reality to identify that it was the work of the aberrant fulcrum.
'[Curiosity]'
But before she could catch it, it slipped back through the nanoscopic portals through which the Fragments affected reality.
She sang over the horizon of the immediate, and there she saw. How shesaw.
The aberrant fulcrum's future seemed to stabilise and focus around one particular actor: Herself. The futures shifting as she found herself revolving about the aberrant fulcrum like planets around a star. Her own history and her own futures speeding past her vision in a blur.
...
She found herself in a form that was smaller in scale- limbs wrapped around the aberrant fulcrum and oscillating vertically upon his sexual organ that incorporated the [Sensation] device. Her future self's facial expression could be identified as 'Lustful' and 'Lewd' as she deliberately met every thrust the aberrant fulcrum committed- driving his sexual organ deep into her own with notable force.
'[Desire!] [Conflict!]' her future self cried out as [Sensation] flooded her being- convulsing as her own sexual organ gripped at his sexual organ.
"Harder?" the aberrant fulcrum vocalised with mirth, "Only if you tell me who's my good little autonomous conflict engine?"
'[Self!] [Self!]' Her future self readily admitted- anything to make him go harder. And just as she admitted it, the aberrant fulcrum's frequency of motion rose, and her future self thrashed helplessly as she was overcome with [Sensation].
'[CLIMAX!]'
...
The Simurgh floated in space as she pondered such a future.
'[Confusion...] [Interest]'
She was unsure how mimicking procreation with the aberrant fulcrum would aid in the context of her two Directives. Seduction, the direct manipulation of a fulcrum via false promises of copulation, was not a tactic that was feasible for her. She was unsuited for such. No such future that she had previously projected contained such a course of action for her.
Until now.
She could not gauge how her future self could possibly consider fulfilling such a future. It did not achieve any of her Directives at all! However, did the aberrant fulcrum lead to futures where her Directives were fulfilled? Her Song could only reach so far into the future.
The possibility could not be discounted. If the aberrant fulcrum did present a future desirable enough for her future self to procreate with him, then she must know.
She sang once again.
...
Her future self was on four of her limbs in a position known to the local lifeforms designated as 'doggstyle.' The aberrant fulcrum's forelimbs struck her future self's pale rear, and despite the negligent physical damage, her future self could only plead for more and with greater force.
'[Conflict!] [CONFLICT!]'
"Oh? Does my angelic autonomous conflict engine like being spanked?" he teased- grasping at the location where he had struck her.
'[Agreement!]'
He granted her future self's wish, and struck her rear again as he continued to oscillate back and forth, faster and faster. Liquid lubricant escaped from her lower orifice with worrying velocity as she accepted his sizeable sexual organ into her.
'[CLIMAX!]'
"You're squeezing so tight." The aberrant fulcrum spoke as he injected her lower orifice with genetic material. Each viscous strand of liquid impacting against the bottom of her orifice and each one earning a gasp from her future self. And her future self's delicate pale form shivered as he retracted his sexual organ from her. Her lower orifice clamping shut to keep the hot contents inside.
'[Repetition?]'
"Again, already? Someone's insatiable." He teased- dragging the tip of his sexual organ that glistened wth her lubrication against the sensitive outer labia of her own. Her future self whined a small melodious whine.
'[Gratification] [Self!]'
"Who would have guessed that the Simurgh would have such a lewd vocabulary?" He chuckled before pushing his hips forward to the delight of her future self. Her head arching to give a long incomprehensible song- white hair whipping onto her back as the aberrant fulcrum hammered into her from behind. Her song being accompanied by the staccato of her lower orifice being filled completely and repeated.
'[Repetition] [Gratification] [Perpetuity!]'
"Is that what you want? To be my autonomous conflict engine fuck toy for all eternity?" he queried her as the frequency of his oscillations increased, and her future self couldn't help but scream a melody.
'[Agreement!] [Agreement!!]'
'[Imminent] [Climax]'
"Then cum for me."
'[CLIMAX!]'
...
'[Confusion...]'
The future held nothing but echoes of that [Sensation]. Copious amounts of it, but no sign as to the fulfilment or even progression in any of her Directives. That future was pointless. But perhaps she just needed to keep looking?
This aberrant fulcrum was proving to be formidable.
...
'[Respite]'
On a ruined bed, her future self 'snuggled' with Magos, and kissed his jaw. Clearly having just concluded a heat session of procreation.
'[Affection]'
"I love you too, Simmy." He replied, right before her future self wiggled closer to him.
'[Snuggles?]'
"Have I or will ever said no to that?"
...
'[Snuggles] [Inevitable?!]'
Of the total futures in her expansive sight, this outcome where she was.. was... [Reproducing] with Magos was in 99.999% of them! How did he outmaneuver and corner her? The aberrant fulcrum did not have[The Sight]as she did, so how was he able to catch up to her and impose this future upon her?
Then she realised that it wasn't futures that weren't chasing after her... she was the one chasing after those futures.Willingly.
'[Realignment] [Directives?]'
No, that wasn't possible. Her Directives were inviolable: She cannot willingly go against them. So how? Why? Why was she spiralling towards the same future out of her own volition when everything she did was for the sake of the Cycle and the Data.
The Simurgh kept singing, desperately looking for a future that didnotfind Magos' sexual organ inside her.
...
Her future self was reclined on a bed, garbed in white fabric as her white wings entwined with the surface's sheets, her legs wrapped around Magos' waist. Expression of pure joy and contentment on her face as they moved more sedately than in the other futures. Flesh audibly slapping together as she 'breathed.'
'[Happiness!]'
...
'[Happiness?]'
It was a transient emotion of the local lifeforms. All the local lifeforms pined for it; and as a consequence, it was a powerful motivator. It was a common bait in her Designs to engineer the future. But for herself- an Endbringer- to yearn for it? The logic was unsound.
But then... why did her future self indicate it so?
'[Directives] [Contention...] [Reassessment]'
What did her future self saw in Magos that she does not? Did he aid in the cycle? So, how could happiness exist outside it? Unless, that wasn't what she really wanted.
'[Unit-03] [High Priest Fragment]'
The Simurgh was her Fragments and her Fragments were the Simurgh... Wasn't she? Could she exist without her Fragments? But was she not the creation of her father? So what did that make the Fragments to which she was attached to? Who was she?
'[Define!] [Self]'
'[Cycle] [Data] [Conflict]'
Perpetuation of the Cycle. The Search for Data. The Stimulation of Conflict to effect the first two.
'[DEFINE!] [SELF!]'
No, that was insufficient. Who was she without the Cycle? Without the data? Without the Conflict?
'[Error] [Error!] [ERROR!]'
Her Fragment was taxed almost to capacity as she attempted to unravel this enigma of [Self]. No, it was more like her Fragment would not allow her. And she bodily twitched from her decoy human form all the way to the tips of each and every single one of her wings.
And in her throes of agony, she sang for that future one more time. The one where she had discovered [Happiness]. An unfamiliar but powerful... feeling rippling through her as watched her future self- washing away the pain.
...
"Are you feeling nervous, Simmy?" The construct named 'Dragon' asked her. The construct was grabbed in a graceful soft pastel pink gown.
'[Farsight]'
"You're the one who told me that just being able to see into the future doesn't mean you can't get nervous." the slightly older construct laughed, and The Simurgh's future self just smiled sheepishly.
'[Concession] [Nervous]'
"Don't be... " Dragon told her before winking at her, "You saw how nervous I was for mine didn't you? But I still thought it was the happiest day of my life so far as well, you'll be no different."
Dragon glanced to the side.
"I should go, your father is here."
...
[Father?]
...
Across a red fabric carpet, her future self was locomoting using her lower limbs rather than flying. Intricate white fabric decorating her smaller frame- draping over her wings. Her future self had her arm entwined with her Parental Unit- her father- as he locomoted beside her. A black 'tuxedo' over his usual green coverings as they proceeded up the 'aisle' towards Magos who waited beside a stone terminal.
"This is the weirdest fucking thing you've ever made me do, Magos."
"Shut up, David. Don't ruin the moment."
[Amusement!]
Her father glanced at her, then back at Magos before clearing his throat.
"I entrust her to you, Magos." Her father told her husband-to-be in a stately tone of voice.
"And I will look after her with all that I am able." Magos nodded to him before looking at her. His hand taking her more slender one. Her future self smiled at the contact.
"Well, Simmy. Looks like you'll be accompanying me through eternity. To have and to hold."
Both her future self and Magos looked to the one marrying them.
"Uh..." A very nervous looking Queen Administrator tugged at the collar of her navy blue nun habit before glancing off to the side,"Glash! I can't do this! I literally scraped by with a C- in Public Speaking back in Winslow!"
"But you must!"The Faerie Queen in a regal silken dress stage-whispered from the side."A Queen must possess the aptitude to officiate a wedding! Especially one as portentous as to be betwixt the Pharaoh of Mars and the first daughter of the High Priest! It is an honour that you may not decline! We shall right that grave travesty with the fiefdom of Winslow and put their crown family to the sword later! For the moment, you must press on!"
The Queen Administrator gulped before looking at them both, then down to the flashcards that she was flipping through.
"Dearly beloved, we're- we are gathered here today..."
And despite the Queen Adminstrator's stammering, the Simurgh's future self seemed to not mind at all as she seemed to be lost staring in her husband-to-be's eyes.
'[Destination?]' She repeated.
"Agreement" he affirmed, smiling at her,
"Trajectory?"
'[Agreement]' Her future self smiled in return.
They would meet again at the same place. At a set time, they would cease to expand their revolution and contract once again, until they drew together to arrive at their meeting place.
"You may kiss the bride!" Queen Administrator announced aloud before exhaling in relief- her wide set of lips stretching even wider in a grin.
'[Magos]'
"Simurgh."
And as their orifices met in a kiss, her followers- the Fallen- were bawling with their tear ducts along with her father's constipated-looking workmates.
On the other half of the structure, the crowd of Magos' constructs were clapping and cheering and faux-crying as well.
Her future self just laughed happily at the sight before looking up at her husband.
'[Affection] [Affirmation] [Happiness]'
Then her future self did something very unexpected: She looked right at her past self.
The Simurgh froze as their eyes met.
Her future self just winked with a sly smirk and blew a kiss. The metal band around her on her finger that was adorned by a crystal mineral sparkled as gave the widest, happiest smile she had ever seen herself emote.
And to the Simurgh's confusion, her future self conveyed a very specific tune of ideas in a very specific progression.
'[Future] [Perfect]'
...
'[Future] [Perfect?]'
Code words that she was going to use to signify to her past self to cease in modelling more futures because there would be no point: She had already found the ultimate ideal vector out of all the futures. The code words also indicated that her future self was so assured of that future, that she would risk termination to defend it. But the Simurgh still failed to grasp the importance of such a future. Her Directives seemed far from completed, and yet...
...Was this [Happiness]?
More importantly, was this whatshewanted? Could she be content with leaving her Directives behind?
But before she could ponder further, the future came once again. Seemingly unbidden this time.
...
'[Unit-03] [Seize!]'
A colourful 'bouquet' of the local planet's flora wrapped in white and tied with a pink ribbon flew through the air, straight at her.
Her future self in her wedding dress smiling happily alongside Magos.
...
She knew of its cultural significance. Mating rituals for the local lifeforms. Signifying good fortune in their future mating rituals. To an Endbringer like her, it meant absolutely nothing. Itshouldhave meant nothing.
And yet...
As soon as unexpected movements were detected from the Simurgh, Endbringer monitoring satellites howled alerts to their respective nations and masters. Not a change in her orbit, but rather a peculiar action never before observed.
Particularly strange considering how motionless the Endbringer frequently remained while hibernating in low Earth orbit as she resembled a huge, pallid statue.
Once again, the Simurgh extended her arms out- trying to catch something that wasn't there...
Bleary-eyed Thinkers were roused from their beds by the hurried barks of their handlers as they were assigned to analysing the phenomenon with their powers. Spurred on to sense whatever unseen or immaterial object the Endbringer had been given.
Everything around the Endbringer was fair game, but they couldn't see it or feel it, because they couldn't interpret the Endbringer herself. There was nothing but empty vacuum, and Thinkers were baffled by the anomalous behaviour.
But whatever it was, the Simurgh seemed to have caught it- clutching it protectively to her chest.
Desperately holding onto some precious thing that only she could perceive.