The all-encompassing disclaimer: for those who get the references, I do not own Bioshock or Half-Life 2 and of course not Assassin's Creed.
CH 10.5
Director Erinen Stence cursed silently as he walked briskly down the hallway. The door scanners sensed his intent to enter and started confirming various aspects of his identity before he came within five steps. As he neared the steely panels dematerialized before him, and he walked in without a break in his stride. The warmly toned office inside was dominated by a large curved table and several holographic projectors. Erinen Stence took his place in the black faux-leather chair, opposite six stern looking men and women. A scanner sent his likeness to a projector to each other other six's rooms.
"Chancellors." The Director nodded.
"Director, are you aware of the current situation?" The middle-aged balding man to his right said in a voice as sharp as surgical knife.
Stence coughed softly. "The tracker shorted out and I wasn't informed of much, other than SIDT working beautifully."
"Well, then, allow me to update you. A17 was attacked, both Sentinels were destroyed. She's not hurt, but you were supposed to monitor her surroundings, Director."
"Attacked!? Impossible! Not this close to the Citadel." The Director responded incredulously.
"But it happened. This group had some major funding and resources. They were able to bypass the Citadel's detection, rendering themselves invisible to it." Said the blond man from the far left.
"What?" Erinen gasped. He didn't believe such technologies existed. "Who in this world can bypass our defense system?"
The Asian woman to his immediate left spoke. "We managed to salvage a device that had failed to self-detonate. As we speak, other Developers are working on reverse-engineering it. This should, no, this will not happen again."
"Ok, let's not forget what really went on." Issued the brunette woman to his right, looking intensely irritated. "They were clearly going after A17. I'm sure you all remember what happened last time with A9. We're downplaying this too much, we need to keep them where it's safest. Indoors!"
Stence frowned, he liked the brunette the least. "Chancellor Richard, with all due respect, SIDT was invented so we can keep them safe should unforeseen circumstances occur," the Director countered, "they need to have some fresh air, and A17 is very particular about where she want to go. I think we should focus on other things. Had the Citadel not been compromised, this wouldn't have happened at all."
Eliza Richard's mouth frown into a thin line. It was an unwise move to retort a Chancellor so bluntly, but he believed in what he said.
"Well, bad news aside," The black man next to Richards spoke, trying to mediate the tension, "this drew out a core group of rebels who had eluded us for a while now. Your girl left their leader alive, albeit severely injured. We have him in custody right now. When he recovers he will tell us who funded them, and then he will be made into an example." He added an icy touch to his last words. A few years ago, The Six made it clear to the world that anyone who lays a finger on this country's assets shall suffer unimaginable consequences.
"The Citadel is not the main problem here. The problem is you were incompetent in protecting your assignment, and her being outside just made it worse." Richard snarled, not letting the matter rest.
The meeting then deteriorated into Richard pushing the main blame onto Stence, and Stence trying to push it onto the Citadel. The other five quickly became intolerant of such behaviors.
The imposing figure of the man sitting directly in front of Erinen spoke. "Ok, drop it you two. Director, both you and the defense system are to blame, but that's not the most important thing right now. A17 is popular, and the people are worried about her. You will issue a press release this afternoon stating that she is recovering swiftly. Tell them our soldiers took down the rebels. Mention nothing about SIDT. We cannot allow our enemies to know about it. For her own safety, A17 is to be kept inside the most secure area of the Miles Research Center until further notice. Two replacement Sentinels will be sent over this evening."
"Chancellor Haytham, I don't think it is in our best interest to lock her up. At least allow her to walk around the center. We can provide-"
"Director," Richard cut in, her hazel eyes colder than ice, "I'm sure you can find something of interest without letting our multi-billion-dollar asset wander the streets."
"Or just give her some time off," Haytham suggested lightly, "we still don't know what mental and physical effects, if any, SIDT might have. This is a great opportunity to study that." His words were greeted with consenting nods from his collegues.
The Director relented; he was on thin ice as is.
After some finishing sentences The Six concluded the meeting, their holographic ghosts disappearing as they stood up. Machines powered down quietly and Erinen made a beeline for the door, eager to see his charge before she regains consciousness.
A fog hung above me.
Fiery metal exploded in the distance. The fresh smell of ozone choked the air, along with the sickening sweet scent of gunpowder. Where the hell did they get such advanced weaponry?
A masked man cried, said he hated and despised us. He pointed his rifle at me and pulled the trigger.
I've never seen such unyielding hate.
I also can't recall anything beyond that.
A machine beeped rhythmically in the background, in time to my heart. I'm in a hospital?
The first thing to greet me was the dim, soft white diffused light. It's a hospital room alright. Various machines and scanners littered the room but otherwise it's pretty quiet. A tall man studied the readings on one of the machines.
"Director?" My voice was far raspier than I thought. My mentor turned around.
"Hey kid." He said softly, sitting on a chair beside my bed. I tried to turn to face him.
Holy God I must've pulled every muscle in my body!
"Wha? How did I get here?"
"Don't move. Don't worry, you're fine, you're safe. You've been out for the past few hours."
I contemplated his words. A few hours?
"SIDT?"
"It saved your life."
I suddenly blanched. "What have I done?"
"SIDT does nothing bad, remember that," he reassured. "It keeps you safe."
Whatever the cost.
Director Stence spoke again, but his words were lost on me. The vivid chaos would not stop replaying itself in my head.
Othello was trapped, half-flattened, beneath the freight hovertruck they managed to dump on him. Even so, his arm would not let go of me. The men surrounding us produced a contained explosive unit. Wires and hydraulics disconnected and flew everywhere in a shower of sparks.
The colossal needle-like structure in the distance watched on silently, an apathetic witness to treason. It had a 30-mile radius in which it could blast anything without high enough clearance to smoldering bits, ground or air.
But if someone told it not to…
"The Citadel."
"We're already working on it." My Director smiled and ruffled my hair.
I felt a sudden rush of glee. "Can I help? I can totally sort through the data."
"No." My face fell in response to his firm answer. "The Chancellors chose to give you some time off instead." Disappointment quickly gave way to anger.
"What!?" I shouted. "Time off? What're they thinking?"
"They feel it's the best course of action right now," my Director said calmly, "and I second their choice."
"No! You can't do that to me! Appeal it! Change their minds."
"No young lady, I will not appeal. You will take time off." He looked dead serious. I turned away from him, pouting.
His facial expression softened as he tried to move a stray stand of hair out of my face. I pulled away. My Director sighed in exasperation.
"The doctors will do some final tests, then you can come home." When I didn't respond, he got up to leave.
"Director." He turned around.
"Othello and Darek, are they there already?"
"No. They were destroyed in the fight." My Director looked away, as if in regret.
I said nothing. I couldn't say anything. I stared at my bedsheets.
"I'll wait for you at the MRC." He spoke softly, and then left the room.
After a while of staring, a strange emptiness filled me.
A few hours and too many tests later, I was transported to my home by two platoons of trained killers. In the streets the common citizens stared up at my tinted, heavily armored vehicle. They smiled and waved, and some held up huge well wishing posters; the colorful words and drawings danced across the thin fibers. I waved back to some of them.
The facility loomed forth like a huge ice cube. My Director waited in front, as he said he would. He helped me into a wheelchair. Six uniformed guards followed us all the way to my underground room. The bed was covered with new white sheets.
I frowned in disdain. Why can't they get black sheets, or some other color? At least the bed itself was comfortable.
My Director excused himself as soon as I got settled. The doors slid shut behind him with a light pneumonic hiss. Since the lights were on they were slightly translucent; just enough for the shadows of the soldiers' black uniforms to show through. Some minutes later the shadows left. My double doors slid apart, and my new guardians strode through the opening.
They were impressive feats of engineering, mostly designed by three Developers in the Defense department. I had a small hand in creating the optical and visual interface. They towered over me at seven foot six, protected by the black hybrid composite armor that gave no reflection. The black armor and the color of their status lights were deliberately chosen to instill doubt in those harboring dark intentions. They stood straight now, the lights between the gaps in their black armor shown in a friendly green. After this first meeting, it will never be green again.
"Call me Diora. What are your names?" I asked.
"Theo." The one to my left answered in a deep, human-like voice.
"Gunther." Said his identical twin. Gunther bowed to me, an action of his own choosing. I like him.
Suddenly both their lights transitioned to an angry red. A shadow fell across my door, followed by light, timid knocks.
"Come in."
A young woman walked through the entrance. She held a small black cube gingerly with both hands.
My life! She returned with it!
"Your cellular device, ma'am." She stopped about five feet short of me, bending over to hand me the cube. Young recruits are often too scared to approach me, afraid of angering my two leviathans.
"Thank you." I accepted the black mass. Upon touching my skin, the cube melted into a black rectangular block. A faint purplish sheen shone beneath the black.
"We've cleaned it thoroughly."
My eyes flickered up. "Why would you need to clean it?"
"Uh..." She gaped, blue eyes wide, "It...it was dirty."
I didn't believe her; my smartphone literally repelled dust. My skeptism must've showed, because she soon turned red with embarrassment.
"I...I need to go." She turned and almost ran out of my room.
I studied my trusted device. Revert back to your last active state.
The smartphone contorted in my palm, morphing into a hard, curved object. The first four inches resembled a rough handle, the next six inches had sharp edges, and the tip finished into a piercing black point.
A knife.
No. Not just a knife. This offensive weapon has a stun function incorporated; anyone it contacts would be sliced and electrocuted at the same time.
"Holy shit." I muttered; I didn't know the basics of wielding a knife.
The form lasted for only a minute, after which the black mass shifted back into a purplish-black brick. I shook my head, deciding to rest on my curiosity for now. There must be a good reason for Director to not tell me what happened. I set the block down on my bed, sliding a finger across the top. Immediately, thin purple lines glowed brightly on the body of my cell. A colorful display popped up; small icons dancing in the air above the device. I poked at the air, making a few more icons appear as buds off of the main bubble. I was tired, but I figured it's only polite to reply to a few messages sent by my concerned colleagues. After I finished, I laid down on my bed and turned off the display.
I smiled as the music started; it was a beautiful piece saved from the voids of history. Whoever composed it must've been a genius of his or her time.
"Theo, go guard the door. Gunther stay here, but turn off your light."
Theo obediently about-faced and marched out of the translucent double doors. I must admit, the black and red contrast does make him look sinister. At my command the room lights turned off, which also made the doors darken. Gunther was invisible in the blackness. The notes of Clair de Lune surrounded me as I drifted off into sleep.
Large glass window panels stretched from floor to ceiling. Outside, the sun was setting, coloring the sky a blood red.
Déjà vu. I've seen this before. Many, many years ago.
On my left wrist there's a small pink and white charm bracelet and the floor felt pleasantly warm on my bare feet.
City lights blazed from below, from the bottom of the Citadel all the way out to the horizon. The edges of the horizon glowed.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Skylea finally said. Our juvenile reflections stared back at us. She, like me, was also barefoot.
"Beautiful?"
"Until you realize why it's glowing so brightly."
I stared at her. Her dark brown eyes reflecting the sunset.
"It grows bigger every year, and the wind brings it dangerously close. It makes me sad." She murmured.
"We'll have to fix it, all of us. I hear it'll be our first assignment."
I had no idea how we're going to fix it. Nothing in my sea of information helped.
No, a thought occurred to me even in my dream-laden state, not then.
Skylea sighed. "Come on. Chancellors want us."
She grabbed my hand, pulling me. Behind me the sun had gone down, leaving only the glowing horizon.
The glow grew menacingly bright, closing in on us, swallowing the city lights in its radioactive fury.
I screamed, terrified.
I opened my eyes, feeling like I can't breathe. A familiar feeling washed over me.
It's been almost two years since my miraculous C6 discovery. The days pass and I feel I am no closer to the end than the day I set foot in here.
"Are you alright? I detect high levels of stress." Gunther's voice emanated softly from the darkness.
I sat up, "go get me some water."
For a machine as big as he, Gunther moved amazingly quiet. The doors opened again and blurred light poured in from the hallway. He went around the vigilant Theo and the doors slid shut with a soft hiss.
Oh no, don't cry.
I put the covers to my eyes and tried to not make a sound. Still, it was too late. The doctors are going to pick me apart tomorrow.
God I missed her.
Note: Yes, Diora is very sad.
On another note, I can't wait for Nov! I hope they'll make Ezio a tad more emotional than Altair. They're both amazingly sexy though. And I must admit it's kinda weird to see all these AC2 fanfics running around when we don't even know Ezio's personality. Ah well, whatever makes ya happy I guess.
If you're puzzled about this future pizzazz don't worry, it'll all make sense later. And as always, your readership and reviews are very welcomed :)