It was above the White Forest, weaving high above the trees where two of the larvae-like aliens flew.
Both hurried on, one injured and bleeding a mysterious green fluid, another flying ahead of it, as if running away in fear of its life.
Not many had witnessed them go, but those who did, well- it was easy to say that they met with a very unpleasant experience. An odd ringing sensation, the multiple cries of people feeling the foreign pain of having one's brain tampered with – followed in the creatures wake.
Some had tried fighting against them, machine guns and rocket launchers in hand.
But to kill them, none had succeeded, and the creatures – the Advisors, as they were called – quickly floated away from their reach, opting to flee rather than to fight.
The humans were angry. But then again, they always were.
To the Advisors, the supreme race as far as they were concerned, humans where small, stupid, insignificant creatures, only created for them to feed on and enslave. They didn't care about the humans. Their feelings, much less so.
But they were injured by them. And the feeling of pain, the shame of being (even momentarily) overpowered by a lesser race, had led them to go, each disgusted of their own situation.
They had had enough. They were leaving.
Over the frustrated yells of the people that had attempted to harm them, over the multiple sounds of gunshots and rockets being fired, they hadn't heard, nor did they care to hear, the silent cries of a woman weeping.
From inside the wrecked roof of a large warehouse – the place the Advisors had originally come from, the offending place they had been initially harmed in, a woman sobbed quietly, the lifeless body of her father hanging limply in her arms.
They didn't care for her mental agony and distress. Of course they didn't.
He was only their first victim, one of many others to come.
The humans had harmed them.
For that sin, they would compensate. Oh yes, they would compensate deeply.
Their revenge was barely beginning.
~oOo~
In the shattered wreck of what was once a clean warehouse, Alyx sobbed quietly, her face buried into her father- Eli Vance's inanimate body.
"Please, please don't leave me dad…" She cried hoarsely, her words falling desperately down on unhearing ears. "…Please don't leave me alone…"
On Eli's old leather vest, puddles of tears formed themselves, the back of his head slowly bleeding out what very little was left of his brains and blood. The only movement from his body came from the rustling of Alyx's own movements, still unable to believe that he was dead. After living for so long, after going through so much, he had gone. He had died a quick, undignified death.
He had died for her.
Towering above her, a large four legged robot, almost animal-like in appearance, stood faithfully by her side, its head bowed down as if ashamed, or maybe mourning of Eli's death.
If it could, Dog would have whimpered quietly.
For the first time in its life, it had failed to protect its master. For the first time it's life, it had come too late to defeat the enemy. Now, it had to face the consequences.
A tense, uncomfortable silence enveloped the area. Nobody dared say a thing, and the heavy, sickening feeling of death hung persistently on, only strengthened by the quiet, broken cries of Alyx, mourning over the loss of her father.
By the edge of the warehouses' wall, a man in a worn-down, tin orange suit stood, gaping silently at the scene before him. His legs weak and his body heavy, Gordon Freeman's knees buckled from beneath him, and he sank to the ground.
Only one thought, one voice echoed in his head.
"Prepare for unforeseen consequences."
Lost in his thoughts, Gordon failed to hear the faint roar of multiple footsteps that were headed his way.
"What's happened here?!" A man, one of the resistance members armed with an SMG ran in bellowing.
He didn't receive an answer.
But then again, he didn't need one.
The man's eyes widened in horrific shock as the scene met him; the eerie silence, the broken windows, Gordon Freeman on his knees, and Alyx Vance sobbing over a body- Her father, Eli Vance's body.
"…Oh my god." The man muttered to himself as several more of the resistance members barged in the room, each loaded with guns and a frantic look on their faces.
"Someone, go call a medic." The man said quietly as he turned to the newly arriving team, his face white with panic and shock.
"What? What happened?" One of them spoke up in reply, craning his neck to see what was going on.
"JUST GO CALL THE DAMN MEDIC!" The first man yelled back, causing the others flinch and eventually scuttle away.
"And you," He said, pointing at one of the men nearer to him, "Go call Dr. Magnusson and Dr. Kleiner."
"Dr. Eli Vance has fallen." He said quietly to the man, his face ashen.
"I repeat, Dr. Eli Vance is dead."
"I am truly sorry, Alyx Vance, but there is nothing we can do to revive him." Uriah said as he looked on to the body spread across the table, his head hanging low and his face grim.
"He has gone far beyond our reach of salvation."
It was roughly one hour from the incident, and the most heavily concerned members of the resistance, Dr. Kleiner, Dr. Magnusson, Alyx, Uriah, Gordon, and another man was cramped up in a single room, huddled sparsely around a flat, white table which, on top, held the body of the now dead Eli Vance. Even Barney was there in the form of a television transmission, meeting up with them from a different resistance outpost in the outskirts of the white forest.
"There has to be a way." Alyx said quietly, her face leaning heavily on clasped hands, as if praying silently. "There has to be…"
"…We truly apologize, Vance. It is no longer in our power to resurrect him." Uriah replied solemnly.
A heavy silence subsided within the group, and Alyx sighed quietly, massaging her tired, red eyes. Everyone else looked down, each avoiding each other's gazes. Nobody knew what to say. It didn't feel right to break the silence, especially not with the body of Eli in the room. Not with the weakness that Alyx was showing now.
But things had to move on. She knew that. Everybody knew that.
Eventually, someone had to break the ice.
With all the subtlety and gentleness he could muster, Dr. Magnusson boomed in his typical, loud, commanding voice.
"-I understand your need to mourn over a lost relative, Miss Vance, but as for now, we have more pressing matters to focus on."
Alyx shot him a silent death-glare, her eyes venomous enough to stun most grown men. But he pointedly disregarded her gaze, focusing instead to continue his topic.
"Do not get me wrong, Miss Vance- I knew your father as well." Dr. Magnusson coughed politely "And he was a good man, very efficient in his work. I have long appreciated his partnership on my projects."
"But we cannot afford to waste our time here, mourning over his death, now that we are so close to the freedom we have been dreaming of for so long." He looked toward her. "Freedom that he had been dreaming for so long." He ended.
"You gotta agree- he's got a point there." Barney spoke thoughtfully over the intercom.
"Eli was a great guy. I knew him from the time I worked in Black Mesa. I'm sorry for his loss, we all are – but we can't let that get into the way of what we have to do." Barney paused, "…Eli wouldn't have wanted that."
"…" Alyx now covered one hand over her face, struggling again not to cry.
"I'm sorry Alyx, Gordon, I really am." Barney murmured soberly. "If only it was a different time, a different place…"
"Maybe then we could have properly mourned over Eli's death." He finished quietly.
Once again, silence reigned over the group, all the people looking unconditionally sad or uncomfortably way wards at the people who didn't. It was a silence, same as a moment ago, but then again it was a different silence.
This time, it was a silence with finality.
"Okay," Dr. Magnusson boomed, clapping his hands to catch the attention of the people. "Now that we have our personal matters over with, I suggest we quickly move on to business."
"Dr. Freeman," He said, looking pointedly at Gordon "I assume that you are all ready to go, and have been fully debriefed about the mission?"
Gordon nodded.
He had been assigned, as with Alyx, the rescue of Dr. Judith Mossman.
And once that had been done, they were told to find the 'Borealis', a ship created by their former company rival; Aperture Science. Apparently it contained some mysterious technology that had the power to annihilate the combine forces – or destroy themselves in the process.
Yes, he remembered it well. Eli had warned him about it previously before his death.
He had told him to destroy the ship, at all costs.
In any other case he would have followed the instructions of his passed friend without question, but times were different now, and he had not yet decided what to do with that knowledge.
This time, it wasn't only his life on the line.
This time, his shoulders carried thousands, maybe even millions of others, and to save them, he had to use the power of that ship. He couldn't destroy it.
…But then again, couldn't he?
Gordon shook his head, sighing warily as he did so.
This was not the time, nor place to be debating over such thoughts.
"And you," Magnusson said, pointing at a resistance member leaning by a desk situated in the far end of the room – he was the Engineer, as far as people knew him. "I assume the helicopter has been prepared and is ready for take-off?"
"That's the thing sir…" The Engineer trailed off.
"The helicopter has been destroyed."
A number of people looked up at that statement, their faces lighting up in alarm and surprise. Gordon looked to Alyx, as she did too, her face in doubt, and in shock.
"What-" Magnusson stammered, "Exactly how did that happen?"
"We ourselves are not entirely sure, Dr. Magnusson," The Engineer murmured, "But we presume that when those Advisors broke through the roof, they had also inertly jumbled up the motors that controlled the helicopter. Some of our other machines had been jumbled up too- The few computers and the security cameras we had there, completely and utterly crashed the moment they came in. That was why we were able to react to the situation so fast." The Engineer paused, his head low. "We believe those creatures have the power to control things without touching or seeing them."
"Whether that be their targets physical bodies, the inside of their machinery, or possibly even their mind." At that he looked up. "They must be called 'Advisors' for a reason."
Magnusson scowled at the Engineer, his brow furrowing deeply in displeasure.
"Is this a fixable problem?"
"Luckily, yes." The Engineer promptly replied.
"But the process itself will take us at least three days."
Another small silence broke out in the room, everyone gazing nervously around to one another.
"Three days? Three days?!" Magnusson bellowed, slamming his fist on the table. "We don't have three days, you dimwit!"
"Now, calm down here Dr. Magnusson-" Dr. Kleiner stood as Lamarr, who he had been uncomfortably stroking for the duration of the meeting, jumped off of his lap.
"You, shut up!" Magnusson yelled, pointing a finger at a surprised Dr. Kleiner.
"And get your damn insectoid pet off me before I finally stamp on its goddamn cranium area and kill it!" He yelled loudly as he shook his leg, on to which an irritated Lamarr had clung tightly on to.
Shaken and taken aback by Magnusson's harsh words, Kleiner slowly picked off Lamarr from the bottom of his right leg, hushing and hugging it as if he were comforting it, or attempting to keep it silent.
"I'm sorry Dr. Magnusson."
"There is really no other way to go about this. We are doing all that we can." The Engineer apologized, voice low.
To this Dr. Magnusson raised his clenched hand from the table, massaging his head and sighing in frustration as he did so.
"…So there is no other way." Magnusson muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
"No sir." The Engineer replied timidly. "That is the only helicopter we have on this base, and the direct coordinates of the transmission from Dr. Mossman have been confirmed impossible to go on by foot. All tunnels, roads, and pathways leading to the area have been destroyed by the combine – it is most likely that they anticipated our arrival – and there is literally no way we can go there, faster and safer than by our helicopter."
"…Well then, I suppose that's that."
Magnusson sighed irritably, massaging his head as if it were about to explode.
"Mr. Barney Calhoun, you continue managing your post at your designated sector. Though the destruction of City 17 has come and gone, there is still the possibility of wandering survivors near that area. I also need you to connect any other resistance outpost to the White Forest base. The more news from the other cities, the better. Dr. Klenier, Uriah, you two come with me. We still have much to research on if we dare attempt to take the outrageous technology of Aperture in our hands. And you," Magnusson said, looking with a hint of disgust at the Engineer, "-You do what you must to fix that helicopter."
"Gordon, Alyx," Magnusson said as he stood, finally turning to face the two. "You two stay idle until further instructions are given. That is all. Meeting dismissed."
And with those last words, Dr. Magnusson gathered his papers and marched angrily out the room, a faithful Uriah trailing right behind him.
As he passed the surprised faces of Gordon and Kleiner, the still mournful figure of Alyx holding on to her father's cold hands, and the sound of a television monitor cutting off, Dr. Magnusson muttered one last curse under his breath.
"This day cannot be getting any worse."
~oOo~
In the meeting room with Eli's body, only Gordon, Alyx, and the Engineer remained.
Dr. Kleiner had left rather hurriedly, apologizing to the both of them and making some comments on an announcement- a speech that he had to now conduct to the rest of the resistance.
Alyx nodded understandingly.
The people needed him, even though he was to be the harbinger of bad news.
Now she sat by Eli's body, her hands covering his as he lay there quietly, his face almost serenely peaceful – an odd sight to witness, especially after seeing the violent scene of his death.
Gordon sighed.
Of the many deaths he had seen from the fall of Black Mesa, of the many deaths of innocents he witnessed, of the many lives he knew he couldn't have saved – this was the worst. Eli was a friend. A close friend of his that died – a close friend of his that he helplessly witnessed dying.
He fumbled with his gloved fingers that he had unconsciously folded atop the table.
Underneath the thick layer of rubber and metal, they were shaking.
He was taking it pretty bad.
Timidly, he looked to his right.
However bad he was having it, he knew Alyx was dealing with it worse.
"…I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Vance." The Engineer murmured softly, startling Gordon out of his thoughts.
"If I may be of assistance, me and my men could help you in burying your Father's body."
Alyx smiled faintly, replying to the Engineer with a quiet nod of her head.
"Thank you."
"It is my pleasure." The Engineer said as he rose calmly from his leaning position by a desk near the wall, dusting himself off.
"Well then, I best get going." He chuckled quietly. "You don't know what Dr. Magnusson's going to say if he finds out that I'd been standing here for an inexplicably long and unproductive duration of approximately ten minutes."
Alyx chuckled as well, and Gordon, in a deep part of his mind, momentarily resented the fact that he couldn't find it in him to say anything witty (Or anything at all, to be honest).
"If you want to spend some time with the body, this will be your last chance. The burial process will start first thing tomorrow, when the sun comes up." He paused, momentarily looking around for a window that wasn't there. "…Though you can't see it, it's actually pretty late into the evening."
"I know." Alyx said quietly. "…I saw the sun set from the hole in the roof as the Advisors escaped."
The Engineer sighed, shaking his head.
"…I know how you feel, Ms. Vance. I have lost my family in this war, as well. But please, whatever you do, don't let it get to you." He said as he walked slowly toward the door.
"There is nothing worse than meaningless regret."
And with those last words the Engineer closed the door and walked away, leaving the two to themselves in a quiet, uncomfortable silence.
Once again, Gordon looked down at his empty hands.
He wanted, as much as anyone, to comfort her.
But unlike the others, he had never really been able to find the words to say it.
Raising his right arm from the table, Gordon made an awkward attempt to pat Alyx on the back.
His worried green eyes met hers as his hand made contact on her shoulder.
She smiled thinly, the only sign to show that she understood.
For long minutes they stayed like that, the air slowing and stilling around them as if they were in a trance.
"…Thank you Gordon." She said quietly, resting one hand over his.
"I'm sorry, but I would like to be alone now."
His hand slipped off her shoulder as she gently pushed it down, smiling sadly as she did so. Silently, subtly, she gave his hand one last reassuring grip, then let go.
"Good night, Gordon." She murmured with a smile.
~oOo~
On top of a bunk bed in the sleeping quarters, Gordon lay silently, reflecting on what little of a life he had left.
Without his coat of iron, (They had made him change out of it and into a normal citizen's attire; saying that it must have not been comfortable, nor hygienic, to wear the same damn thing both day and night) without his glasses or even his crowbar, Gordon felt uneasily vulnerable, as if he had not only been stripped out of his clothes- but his identity as well.
But since when was he anything other than a man in a tin suit?
Gordon sighed quietly to himself. This negative track of thought wasn't doing anything good for his mentality. But though he knew it, he couldn't stop.
Suddenly he felt very, very tired.
Within moments, Gordon fell quickly down the road to unconsciousness, his dreams riddled with darkness, nightmares, and the apparitions of his friends long gone.
But even during his battles against darkness, his desperate fight to retain his own life, he knew he wasn't alone. Somehow, deep within the crevices of his unconscious mind, Gordon still thought about Alyx.
And even in his deep slumber, he worried for her. He worried for her sanity.
Even in his dreams, he saw the crisp blue suit and briefcase of a shadow that haunted them both.
And vaguely, quietly, he hoped that they had not just become the puppets in a play.
"Great day to be on night patrol huh?"
"Shut up."
In the midst of an unnamed forest in a place once known as Upper Michigan, somewhere in the 1 kilometer radius of a certain resistance outpost bordering the territory of City 26, two resistance members- a soldier and a medic, walked along, each equipped with a flashlight and an Overwatch Standard Issue Pulse Rifle in hand.
"Our great leader is dead, some ass-wipe called Gordon Freeman's been put in charge, hunters haven't stopped terrorizing the base for days, and I have a feeling it's about to rain." The woman complained.
"Shut up, Cindy." Her male counterpart growled quietly in reply.
It had been barely 20 minutes since their march began, and the man- Igor, had already begun regretting his decision to choose 'Machine-gun' Cindy as his partner.
As trustworthy a partner she was, she wasn't exactly the quietest type.
"Let me complain, will you?! Seriously, you're the only one in the base who listens to me." She pouted, showing no hint of stopping.
"I swear, those fogeys at the base are deaf-"
Snap.
From behind the two, a small, but sharp noise resonated throughout the forest.
Not unlike the explosive sound of firecrackers, the small sound resonated throughout the forest a second time. And then a third.
Snap.
Snap. Snap.
"…Did you hear that?" Igor asked as he crouched quickly for cover, voice low.
"Yup." Cindy replied, her gun leveled to her face a second before him. "What is it?"
"I think it's a Hunter."
Slowly, cautiously, the two crept toward the source of the sound, both keeping as quiet as they could.
It was then, over the bushes, they saw the scene.
The alien, mechanical voice of the Hunter yapped quietly, firing around at its unseen target. Flashing blue streaks of light flew at all directions, as if it had trouble deciding where it wanted to shoot.
And beside the hunter, a soft, unnatural pink light pulsed quietly.
It came from a battered metal cube, with small pink hearts adorned at every side.
Suddenly, they heard the tree behind them rustle.
The man, cursed ungracefully as he tripped, trying, and failing, to catch on the trunk to stop his clumsy fall.
"Ah shit." Cindy muttered as the Hunter spotted them.
Without a hitch, the Hunter ran toward the two, yapping loudly and picking up speed as he charged to kill.
In panic, Igor fumbled with his gun, his mind completely blank as he raised his pulse rifle to shoot.
Fwop.
Beside him, a brilliant white light emerged through the entrance of Cindy's gun, flying past Igor as if in slow motion.
The Hunter screamed violently as it disintegrated, soon dissolving into the white burst of light which consumed it.
Igor lowered his gun, his hands shaking slightly as he sighed a deep breath of relief.
"…This is the third time you've saved me today." He said breathlessly.
"Yeah, gotcha on that Mr. Medic." She chuckled in reply. "You men of medicine really aren't any good with weapons are you? Don't you remember that lecture Mark once held where he explained that the pulse rifle-"
"Is the man alright?" Igor interrupted her.
Cindy pouted at him, giving him a brief, disappointed glance before they both walked toward the survivor initially chased by the Hunter.
Though it was hard to see him well in the dark, he was a man, presumably a scientist in a dirty (And somehow colourful?) lab coat, with a sling on his back and black, messy hair that hid the most of his face.
"Hello-o?"
Cindy tilted her head as she cautiously poked the man with the end of her gun.
"Are you dead?" She asked with innocent curiosity.
"Oh, and are you for the resistance? That's important too. Do please tell us. Because if you don't, I'll have to poke you to see if you're still alive, shoot you for extra measure, then dispose of your inanimate body before you can be infected by a headcrab and begin ravaging the area-"
"…I'm…not…dead." The man muttered weakly.
"Really?" Cindy frowned, momentarily showing her disappointment.
"I-I mean, that's great!" She grinned widely. "Oh, and you are for the resistance, right? The last time we tried to save an unidentified person, he went running back to the authorities, and I personally had to shoot him in the head. Haha, ungrateful bastard of a man, really-"
"Cindy, be quiet." Igor said quietly, narrowing his eyes at her. "He doesn't need to hear this. The man's seriously hurt. Whether or not he'll become one of us, we have to save him, even if it's only for the moment."
Crouching towards the man, Igor offered his hand.
"…Thank you." The man said gratefully as he took it.
"...I'm sorry…I can't exactly tell you if I'm for this 'Resistance' or not…" He muttered quietly to Igor.
Igor shook his head. "Don't worry yourself over that."
"I-I don't…exactly know what's been going on here. I'm not really sure how long it's been." The man said, sighing. "…I feel as if I'd been underground for a thousand years."
At that, Igor crooked an eyebrow in confusion.
"…I am Doug Rattmann."
"I am the last surviving employee of Aperture Science."