The Ravaged One

California, United States of America

This was boring.

Abby had no other word for it. Half the stuff she'd been editing had been literal fluff pieces with no substance whatsoever and the rest had been sensationalized stories with questionable sources. If she'd actually been concerned about doing a good job, she would have had some words with the original author writing this.

But as it stood now, she was trying to find a traitor.

Fortunately, her suspects were very limited. She'd already eliminated the fluff piece writers and essentially anyone not working on actual political, military or international news. From that pool there were only a few that actually dealt with the current political and international situations, including the alien invasion. In total, there were three suspects.

Nathan Rutherfield, one of the most efficient writers for this particular station. By efficient, she meant sloppy and fast. He apparently thought her job as editor was do my job for me based on the inordinate amount of grammatical and spelling errors. But he was always the first to report any major political event or speech, mostly because he had quite a few sources, and while that was suspicious in it of itself, it wasn't enough to consider him a suspect.

No, what made her suspicious was that every story always fit a very specific agenda. His work was mostly dealing with the election as of late, and it seemed that every piece written was slamming anyone who wasn't Kamili Rono. To be fair, he hadn't written anything painting her in a positive light, per-se, but whenever she appeared, it was either completely factual (a rarity) or extremely short.

He was somewhat clever in what he was doing. He was favoring a candidate without really favoring them. It wasn't as though Kamili received pieces praising how good she was, but instead everyone else was being smeared, making her look good by comparison. It was disappointing for Abby personally, because Kamili did seem like a good woman, but if something like this came out, it would seriously damage public trust.

She hoped that he didn't mind that she'd kept a document of every inaccuracy he'd reported in one convenient place. It might be useful if she found actual evidence. If EXALT actually was backing a candidate, this would probably be a way they did it. Kamili was an interesting choice though, she'd have expected either Malik or Harian.

Although on second thought, it would make more sense if Kamili was actually part of EXALT and not being "backed" at all. It would be the smartest thing to do. Come in, shake things up, provide the perfect image of what people want and expose the lying politicians for what they are. It would have almost certainly worked had the aliens not invaded. But since they were, people were actually considering retired admirals and fanatics as viable leaders.

She pursed her lips and kept typing, mindlessly on autopilot. At least this work didn't require that much effort. Her second suspect she was considering removing altogether. Branch President Thomas Mayberry. If EXALT had wanted the most influence over this station, he would be in the best position to do so. The thing was, his duties were more administration than the day-to-day rush of news.

Though she knew he could technically block or force a story, she hadn't seen or heard anything about him actually doing that. Aside from that, she knew that EXALT seemed to not place their agents directly at the top, with the possible exception of Solaris Industries. So for him to be an EXALT plant would be rather unusual, compounded by the fact that he honestly wasn't the person with the most control over the stories published.

But she couldn't eliminate him from contention unless she found reasonable proof one of her other two suspects was the plant. But she wasn't focusing much on him anymore. Her final suspect was Amy Cario, Chief Editor, and her direct boss. Every story she'd done had been approved by her before publication and she had final say about what was being written.

She was an interesting case, because she had several times had her go back and edit some of Nathan's more…inflammatory headlines into something more neutral. Abby had complied, though she wasn't sure if she was being directed to do so because Amy was a good editor or because that wasn't the candidate EXALT wanted.

Another thing that had raised suspicion was that almost all news of the alien invasion, and XCOM specifically, was either reduced or rewritten entirely to be either neutral at best, or questioning at worst. Impartiality was good, but since Abby had been very careful to keep things as neutral as possible whenever XCOM had appeared, it seemed a little suspicious. Especially since EXALT wanted XCOM out of the picture.

Well, she'd spent enough time determining suspects. Now she needed to gather evidence. This workplace had actually been easy to integrate into. She just smiled, nodded, pretended to be a little clumsy and everyone chuckled and went along with their day. She didn't have the attention of anyone, fortunately, and she intended to keep it that way.

For now.

She finished the paper and forwarded it to Amy for approval. Her job for the day done, she stood and walked out of her little cubical towards the break room, which really just consisted or an open area with couches, TVs, a water cooler and pretty much all the stereotypical break room stuff.

Jochern was waiting on time, as usual. He'd mostly been moving around the office, chatting people up. He agreed with her that the suspects fit well, and had promised to see what he could find. He smiled as she walked up. "Another exciting day?"

She'd made her complaints known to him before, so she just glared at him in return. "Fine, fine," he chuckled under his breath. "Maybe this will make it better." He raised a flash drive.

Now she was instantly alert. "You found something?"

"Maybe," he clarified, pocketing the drive. "It's a start if nothing else. Are you familiar with the United America Super-PAC?"

She frowned. "No."

"Neither was I," he said mischievously. "But it seems Nathan certainly is, if some of his recent conversations are anything to go by."

"How did you possibly learn that?" She demanded breathlessly. This could be just what she was looking for.

"I had a friend call him over for something, since he is a very smart and intelligent man," Jochern said, clearly amused. "And while he was sharing his, ah, expertise, I went over to his computer and checked his email. I saw some interesting stuff, and copied the rest to the flash drive. Rather easy, truth be told."

"Nice," she complimented. "We'll look-"

"Christine?"

She turned around as her cover name was called to see Amy walking up. "Yes?" she asked, keeping as calm as possible.

"I know you've clocked out," she apologized preemptively, brushing a strand of brown hair off her face. "But I wanted to talk to you about one of your pieces."

"Sure," Abby said, keeping her voice friendly. "Show me."

Amy nodded and Abby followed her to her office which was just down the hall. "Did you read what I sent that fast?" Abby asked. "I know its short but-"

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine," Amy dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Most of your work is pretty good, in fact. No, I'm talking about your XCOM piece."

Abby blinked. "Was there something wrong with it?"

Amy hesitated. "Technically…no. It was serviceable, though you were a little too…generous to what Van Doorn said. Like when he said XCOM invaded China."

Abby frowned. "But he didn't. His exact words were, 'XCOM has just completed an operation in Chinese territory against the organization EXALT, which we have confirmed to be working with-'"

"You have to read between the lines sometimes, Christine," Amy said wearily. "That quote was too long anyway. Maybe 'XCOM performs unsanctioned operation in Chinese territory" would be better. And include something of the Chinese reaction."

Abby crossed her arms. "You do realize I just edited this, right? Besides, I know China hasn't given a statement one way or another. Anything I'd add would just be speculation."

"What, and you think the Chinese aren't angry?" Amy asked sarcastically. "Just keep it vague and it'll be fine. But we have to be neutral here, we can't really be favoring XCOM."

"I kept it as neutral as possible," Abby protested, taking a step forward. "If anything, I made it less biased than before."

Amy let out another sigh. "I know it's more difficult, especially now, but we can't slack off. We still have no proof that this 'EXALT' is actually real or just something XCOM is using to justify their actions."

Abby's eyes widened. "Really? Have you watched the news over the past few hours? XCOM has released quite a bit of evidence."

"And haven't allowed any independent investigations," Amy amended, her blue eyes filled with resolve. "Thus, we can't claim with absolute certainty that EXALT exists. I don't know what XCOM is doing, but I doubt they're just going to tell us. Look, you've done well so far, but make the changes or I'll have someone else do it for you. Got it?"

"Got it," Abby muttered. "Good day, Mrs. Cario."

She almost stormed out of the room back to Jochern whose smile faltered as he saw her deliberately tight expression. "Is, ah, there a problem?"

"Maybe," she muttered grabbing his arm and leading him out. "I'm seriously wondering if EXALT has more than one agent, since I'm pretty much convinced those two are plants for something. I'll tell you in the car."

With that both of them exited the studio, Abby trying to figure out the best path forward.

France

"[What did you tell them?]" Annette asked quietly as she looked nervously out the window as they drove through the countryside.

"[Family emergency,]" Latrell answered with a shrug. "[Made sure to take a couple of days off. The boss wasn't happy, but I've got time stacked up.]"

Annette nodded. Still, she was nervous now that they were actually going through with this. Latrell felt nervous, and she echoed that feeling. In the end they'd decided that Germany was the closest country directly tied to XCOM, so they were going to Berlin to see if they could help. Customs wouldn't be a problem since she could just force the guard to let them through.

It would have been much simpler, had Germany not closed itself off. Though they hadn't technically withdrawn from the EU, they might as well have. They'd completely secured their borders and were only letting very specific people inside, and had she not possessed the power to control people, they would likely not be among that crowd.

"[I wonder if we're being tricked,]" Latrell finally said after a few minutes. "[We waited a few days before leaving, they didn't try and take you, and my stuff is supposedly untouched.]"

She wanted to believe that EXALT had decided to get on with more important things, but she honestly didn't believe that for one second. That had been in the front of her mind ever since she'd fallen into an uneasy sleep with him in his bed. What were they waiting for?

"[They're probably wanting to see what we do,]" Annette guessed, once more scanning the countryside. "[You have stuff set up if you or I were taken that would alert the police. They probably wanted us out of Paris.]"

"[Staying would only delay them though,]" Latrell muttered quietly, pursing his lips. "[We'd have had to do something eventually. Maybe they'll take us more seriously now that XCOM apparently took one of their bases out.]"

With any luck, they'd done more than that. Annette had actually almost been giddy as she'd watched the press conference. As XCOM had systematically released evidence of what horrific things EXALT had done, she'd felt a sense of vindication and fury that had laid dormant in her for a long time.

Those experiments they'd been running…she'd thought the ones on her and the Furies were bad. But by comparison she'd been one of the lucky ones. Anyone who condoned what she'd watched deserved a much worse fate than death. She was again reminded of how cruel humans could be to one another, and a lack of empathy was what led to organizations like EXALT, those driven by nothing but results and the nebulous "greater good."

She had no doubt EXALT likely thought they were doing themselves and humanity a great service, but nothing could justify what she'd seen and experienced. "[How quickly could you sense if they're EXALT agents or not?]" Latrell asked, snapping her out of her reminiscing.

"[Probably a few seconds longer, since they'll be among the guards,]" Annette admitted. "[It's easy to sense one within a crowd; they're unnaturally calm and focused. It'll obviously be more difficult in a military setting.]"

"[So you sense and I'll talk,]" Latrell nodded. "[Hopefully they'll be reasonable.]"

"[Remember we have to insist to speak to him right away,]" Annette reminded him intently. "[Otherwise if EXALT has plants, they'll kill us or isolate us. I can't take out everyone.]"

Latrell winced. "[That's such an odd thought. It's hard to imagine you hurting anyone; you were the one who got angry when I suggested that you arm yourself.]"

Annette leaned back in her seat, pursing her lips. "[Well, consider yourself vindicated. I'm not quite as naïve as I was a few months ago.]"

"[I'd hoped you would come around,]" he said softly. "[But not like this.]"

"[Don't even think about going down that road,]" she chastised, sensing some more guilt. "[None of this is your fault. I was an overly idealistic woman, and I've gotten over that rather vividly. People like EXALT deserve whatever's coming to them, and this time I'll be ready to make them pay.]"

"[But do remember to keep control,]" Latrell reminded her. "[I'm not sure how people would react to knowing you could control their minds.]"

She could sense the lie. "[Actually, I think you do.]"

"[Fine, I have some idea,]" he sighed reluctantly. "[Honestly, going to a government is almost a bigger risk that just running. You are going to change a lot of things, and there are going to be people who want to kill you to be safe, or use you as a weapon.]"

Annette scowled. "[I'm fine with being a weapon, as long as I'm pointed in the direction of EXALT or the aliens.]"

"[Mhmm,]"

They kept driving in silence for a while as twilight came. Annette checked the time. "[How long was it to the border?]"

"[Half-hour or so from here,]" he answered. Looked at the gauges. "[Hey, does something seem off?]"

Annette frowned and that was when she noticed it. "[The back seems lower,]"

He scowled. "[We might need to stop and fix it if it's a flat tire. Otherwise we won't make it beyond the border.]"

Annette looked around the darkening countryside. "[But EXALT…]"

"[We really don't have a choice,]" Latrell sighed. "[Besides, I doubt they planned out exactly where we'd stop. I've got a spare in the back and know how to change it. It should take long if we both work together.]"

"[Fine, fine,]" she sighed as they pulled over. She quickly got out and walked to the back and frowned at the sight. Yep, definitely a flat tire, she was surprised that they'd gotten this far without noticing it.

"[Damn it,]" Latrell swore as he came around and looked at the tire. "[Why today of all days?]"

"[Let's just fix it,]" Annette insisted, looking around nervously. "[I don't like this.]"

"[We'll be fine,]" he assured her, kneeling down. "[There's a toolbox in the trunk. I'll need the wrench and 14mm socket.]"

"[Ok,]" she said and walked to the trunk and opened it and looked inside. She was thankful he was so organized, since it made her job much easier to actually find what she was looking for without sifting through junk. The spare was there, a heavy jacket and a toolbox. She reached over and pulled it towards her.

Opening it, she sifted through the tools. Ah, there was the wrench and there were the sockets-

She gasped as she suddenly felt Latrell suddenly…stop. His thoughts suddenly vanished, even though she could still feel him she leapt around the corner to see him sprawled on the ground, a dart in his neck.

"[No!]" She gasped, looking around wildly. This couldn't be happening. Not after everything she'd been through.

She couldn't go back again.

She gritted her teeth and drew upon the power, turning the pain of her melting flesh into strength to amplify the effect. Purple energy running up her arms and body, she turned around in every direction, still sensing nothing. "Come out!" She roared. "Finish this!"

A sharp pain in her neck made her stumble and she reached up and pulled out a small dart. Tranquilizers, of course. She smashed the dart in her hand, ignoring the pain. That wouldn't work on her. "Try again!" She yelled, charging in the direction she'd been shot.

"Ugh," she groaned as two more darts pierced her chest in quick succession. In desperation she thrust her arm forward, projecting a wave of energy towards the distance. All she got in return was another dart to the shoulder.

A wave of fatigue washed over her and she sank to her knees, trying to fight the encroaching darkness but failing. "Not again," she whispered as she struggled to stand up. "Not agaiaaaaa…"

She collapsed to the ground, her last thought before unconsciousness was wishing they'd just kill her.

England, Falka Intelligence Control

Short notice meetings involving all the families were rarely unscheduled, but this was one instance where Saudia felt fully justified about disrupting everyone's hectic schedules, including her own. Decisions needed to be made now, before the situation deteriorated further. And if the past twenty-four hours were any indication, further deterioration was very possible.

Elizabeth had all her agents and plants working overtime to distort or mute the supposed 'evidence' XCOM had presented to the world. She was somewhat impressed just how convincing that footage was, if she hadn't known better, she'd have assumed it was real and regardless of that, it was now attracting the attention of powerful governments which was going to open up a new host of problems.

"At least Elizabeth beefed up security," Ethan noted as they walked through Intelligence Control. Saudia had to agree, there were Venator and Falka guards posted in front of each division room and hallway entrance.

"Or Zara just decided to bring a legion for protection," Saudia amended as she noted a group of four Venator guards marching past them. "I wouldn't put it past her."

"Good point," Ethan muttered. "Did everyone say they'd make it?"

"Yes," Saudia confirmed as they turned a corner. "The Mercado's are sending Yakov as their representative for now."

"I guess the Russian side is making their moves," Ethan noted, pursing his lips. "Let's hope it doesn't escalate."

"It won't," she promised. "I've made it quite sure there that I will make an executive decision if they couldn't come to a compromise." They walked into the main control room and headed up to Elizabeth's office overlooking it, since that's where she wanted to hold the meeting.

Falka Intelligence Control hadn't been where she'd wanted to hold this, but it was the most central location for everyone and they would be able to reach it within hours. It would take much longer to hold it at the Bastion, even if it was ultimately safer.

The doors hissed open and they both walked into the room. Elizabeth was in a deep conversation with Zara and Darian. Matthew and Hasina were also in a conversation as well. All of them paused and she motioned for them to continue until Yakov showed up. Matthew broke off and walked over to her.

"Director," he greeted with a simple nod. "Good to see you."

"You as well," she answered. "Unfortunate we're not in a better place, but that'll be discussed later."

"True," he said, keeping his tone light. "Though not all is bad. Operations are still proceeding well in North America, and the United States is playing into our hands."

"Excellent," she said, not really able to muster up much enthusiasm. It was bizarre; just a few months ago she'd have been thrilled at the possibility of influencing the United States directly, but as it stood now, she was wondering if that election was even going to happen.

Matthew seemed to pick up on her disinterest. "I know, not much of a comfort now. But once things quiet down…" He trailed off as she fixed him with an incredulous stare.

Placating at its worst. Did he really think things were going to 'quiet down' for any of them?

"Well, you might be happy to know the Chronicler arrived safely," he added, changing gears completely. "I assume he's doing…whatever he does."

"And probably not told you either," she added wryly. Oddly enough she hadn't been concerned about his safety in the least. She'd never really worried about him for some reason, even though his age should have given her plenty of cause. He'd assured her that she could take care of himself, no matter what and until she witnessed otherwise, she had no cause to dispute that.

The door hissed open and Yakov strode in. Yep, definitely a Russian, and a young one at that. Probably no older than forty, with short black hair and a chiseled face. From what she knew of him, he'd overseen intelligence operations in the Russian region and worked very closely with Elizabeth over the years. What was also of interest was that he had always supported aggressive research into advanced weapons.

She wondered if that was a sign of what the Mercados wanted to do going forward. "Greetings, Director," he said, extending a hand to her as he walked up. His voice was more accented than usual, but his English was perfectly understandable. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well, Ambassador," she answered. "My condolences for the loss of Diguon again, though I am pleased that your family was able to send someone on such short notice."

"Appreciated," he answered with a smile. "Considering recent developments I have to share, they felt I was best qualified to be here. Major changes are happening in Asia over the past few hours."

Saudia raised an eyebrow. "Then we should get started."

With that all of them gathered around the holotable, just deciding to stand since there really wasn't time to waste. "This is Yakov Mercado, representing them for today," Saudia introduced, resting her hands on the holotable. "It also seems there's been some recent developments we're not aware of."

On the right side of the table, Yakov inclined his head. "A privilege to be here, but down to business. Elizabeth, may I?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Of course."

Yakov plugged in his tablet and a map of Asia appeared on the green holotable. "First order of business; China has officially left the Council, though are making sure to keep in quiet."

Saudia's eyes widened. Well that was certainly interesting. "An interesting move," Matthew commented carefully. "I wouldn't have thought they'd actually follow through on something like that."

"They do now have the dreadnought," Darian reminded them, looking at the map curiously. "It's possible they thought they didn't need XCOM anymore."

"That, and XCOM might have not played nice with them," Ethan added grimly. "I have a feeling this was a long time coming, and this provided the excuse needed to drop out."

"I tend to agree," Yakov nodded. "By all accounts, XCOM has not exactly been…well, respectful to China."

"Meaning not intimidated by them," Zara stated flatly. "XCOM may be a threat, but it's about time someone stood up to them."

"I'm more concerned with how XCOM will respond," Elizabeth commented. "This will be considered a direct insult, and if XCOM truly isn't intimidated by China…there is a chance they could expand their alliances to countries they would have previously avoided due to political fallout."

"Taiwan?" Hasina asked skeptically. "I doubt it. That would a blatant political move, nothing more. XCOM would have to get something substantial out of it."

"ASEAN," Saudia recalled suddenly. "That would get their attention. Blatantly defying the Chinese would be a massive incentive for them to fund XCOM." She'd never really thought of that collection of smaller Asian countries as something worth investing much in, especially since China dominated the hemisphere.

"Exactly," Yakov agreed. "Ever since China has been declaring everything in the South China Sea their own, they've not exactly been friendly towards them. While ASEAN has given them something of a voice, they haven't really been supported by any major power."

"And if XCOM would be willing to stand with Taiwan, an XCOM-ASEAN alliance would be almost assured," Matthew finished in awe. "And what exactly could China do about it?"

"Aside from publicly rebuke XCOM and any nations supporting them?" Yakov asked with a shrug. "Not much aside from taking them over themselves, and I can assure you that China does not want to go to war with XCOM or the rest of the world for that matter."

"What of an alliance with Mongolia?" Hasina asked, pointing at the map. "The proximity would be enough to send a message, and Mongolia would actually be a decent ally."

"Remember they have Russia to consider as well," Darian pointed out.

"Russia supports XCOM," Yakov shook his head. "We suspect they also have an unofficial alliance directly with the country as well, judging by XCOM's alliances with neighboring countries. Possibly proxies to support an ally without the appearance of favoritism."

Saudia considered the map for a minute. "I have a feeling that China might have acted too rashly in this case. They're relying on XCOM backing down and continuing on without them, or hoping that their withdrawal will lead to the ultimate dissolution of them and they can take their place."

"They're delusional if they think that," Zara snorted. "XCOM isn't going anywhere."

"Even if it did, China would not be leading the defense," Yakov interjected. "Every country allied with XCOM has at least some alien tech, and are adapting their militaries to it. It'll take China time, and Russia and Israel have already beaten them to it."

"Russia?" Zara asked, frowning. "When?"

"That leads to my second bit of information," Yakov said, tapping on his tablet and the map disappeared. "I already said we suspected XCOM is funneling tech to Russia, but we don't know for sure. But what we do know is that Russia has access to alien tech, and for some time. One of our Russian agents managed to acquire some intel about their first major project. Elizabeth?"

"It's appears to be a front-line soldier," Elizabeth answered, as a hologram of said soldier came up. "The fact that it was able to be acquired this…easily, indicated that Russia is probably planning to deploy them in the near future."

The soldier prototype was clad in some of the bulkiest armor Saudia had ever seen. The chest piece, legs and arms were completely covered by armor and the left shoulder guard displaying the Russian flag was at least twice as big as the opposing shoulder. Several insulated wires also ran up the arms to attach in the upper neck before disappearing into the armor itself. Oddly enough, they seemed to have taken some inspiration from the North Korean soldiers she'd seen, since this helmet looked like a slight modification of that, though more angular and armored.

"They call this the опекун," Yakov continued. "'Guardian' if you want the literal translation. Though I personally think 'Shield,' would be more fitting considering what it can do."

"And what can it do?" Matthew asked.

"The Guardian-class armor has an experimental type of energy shield," Yakov continued. "It creates a small square-shaped barrier around the armor and is an attempt at neutralizing the worst of the alien plasma weapons impact."

"What about ballistics?" Saudia asked.

"That's what the armor itself is for," Elizabeth clarified. "It's not a kinetic shield, and from what I've read, it might last for only one shot. Seems to work well against lasers though."

"Good to know," Saudia muttered. An advanced Russia and Israel were troubling, but that might turn out to be a blessing in disguise if the aliens launched a full-scale invasion. "Thanks you, Yakov. Darian, an update?"

"Ah, yes," Darian ran a hand through his hair. "Well, the plan's gone completely to hell since Brazil collapsed and since it looks like the military is going to assume control, I'm directing my agents to focus on that. But the short version is that we are not going to have the control we hoped over them."

"Unfortunate," Saudia sighed. "But we didn't exactly have a choice this time. It slowed XCOM down and at the time, that was the priority."

"And it was a massive waste of time," Zara growled. "You've essentially handed XCOM a direct alliance with Brazil without Council control. You read the profile of the woman staging the takeover? Exactly the type who XCOM would love to work with."

When put like that, it was. "That was a risk," Saudia admitted. "But a calculated one, and it didn't work out this time. We will need to do better."

"Yeah, and I'm curious just what you think will work," Zara continued hotly, motioning around the table. "Tell me, Director, what is going to be the silver bullet that shuts down XCOM? Because it seems like no matter whatever, they somehow come out ahead."

"She does have a point," Matthew agreed slowly. "They're in a unique position. Too new to be effectively infiltrated, too small to effectively control and too isolated to find. XCOM broke the rules for everything, and we're seeing what happens when the usual powers are challenged by someone who knows what they're doing."

"I'll answer your question now," Ethan broke in, stepping forward. "Director?"

She nodded. "Tell them,"

"We know who the Commander of XCOM is," he said, and everyone around the room looked at him with new interest. "He led the assault on the Mercado Estate and contacted the Bastion afterwards."

"Why hold onto this, even if only for a day?" Elizabeth demanded, glaring at him. "You know how long we've been trying to figure that question out?"

"The Commander is alive," Ethan stated in response. "And guess who the commander of XCOM is?"

She blinked and straightened up in surprise. "Sorry, what?"

"Seconded," Zara agreed.

"You're saying that your Commander and the Commander of XCOM are the same person?" Darian asked incredulously.

"Exactly," Ethan said. "Trust me, it couldn't have been anyone else."

"And I'll show the conversation itself," Saudia assured them. "But we need to decide what we're going to do about it."

"If so…." Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. "Everything makes a lot more sense. The tensions between XCOM and the UN, XCOM forming alliances, their stance towards China, the brutal tactics…no wonder everything's been so unpredictable."

"If we could release this…" Matthew mused thoughtfully. "We might-"

"It would just be denied," Ethan interrupted, shaking his head. "I know him, and from that conversation he hasn't changed much. I'm certain he has a plan in case his actual identity was ever revealed. Aside from that, we have no legitimate way to prove it."

"So we're up against the man who essentially brought down the Caliphate," Zara muttered. "Well, what did he have to say?"

"Essentially, 'the aliens are manipulating us' and 'stop attacking us or I'll bring you down,'" Saudia paraphrased. "But the thing to take away is that he was open to a truce."

"That has to be a lie," Yakov stated with a frown. "A trick to lure us into complacency."

"I'm pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was because he assumed that we wouldn't take it," Ethan said. "However…he would honor it if we did so."

"Are you actually considering this?" Darian asked incredulously. "After everything they've done to us?"

"The only reason we're fighting XCOM now is because of the aliens," Hasina reminded them. "Which should be reevaluated now. If the aliens are playing us, we should back out as soon as possible. Our alliance was never supposed to last long anyway."

"I would like to point out that once more that we're faced with a decision where only XCOM benefits," Darian pointed out with resigned amusement. "Let's say we make a truce with XCOM and end it with the aliens, then they go to war with us, diverting attention from them. We stay and XCOM keeps fighting us, and the longer this goes one, the harder it is for us. Secrecy was always our greatest weapon, and XCOM has continuously reduced it. I don't foresee this going well for us if it continues."

"I assume you have an idea, Director?" Matthew asked, looking towards her.

She took a breath. "I no longer think continuing a war with XCOM is viable at this point, at least not openly. We need to be out of the public eye right now. However, I don't necessarily think we need to immediately break our alliance with the aliens. We need time to prepare. So we humor them for now, give them some useless information, or at worst lie about our efforts. But we should not break it off until we are ready."

"I would be able to get a better understanding of where we stand if I contacted the Commander directly," Ethan added. "He believes I am dead. The fact that I'm with EXALT now may cause him to reconsider some things."

"From what you've described of him, I doubt that he'll refrain just because you're with us," Zara commented skeptically, crossing her arms. "He killed his own wife, yes?"

"No, it won't on its own," Ethan clarified. "But I could assure him we'd adhere to something of a truce. He'll be more likely to believe it coming from me. But we'd have to follow through on it. He won't accept anything less."

"So that's the question then," Elizabeth said. "Is that what we're doing? Play nice with XCOM and the aliens for now until things quiet down? What happens after?"

"Elizabeth…" Matthew said slowly. "The thing is, if we don't work to stop the aliens, there may not be an after. Whatever the aliens have planned for us, I doubt it'll be what we want."

"Enemy of my enemy," Darian added. "Though even if XCOM isn't exactly a friend, if the Commander really is in charge, he'll at least ensure that the UN doesn't come out on top."

"I wouldn't be surprised if the ultimate dismantling of the UN isn't in his plans," Ethan suggested. "He would never forgive them after what they pulled, stay of execution or no."

"So that's settled for now," Yakov said with a nod. "But regarding the Commander's identity…who should know about this? It shouldn't be common knowledge."

"Why not?" Ethan argued. "The men and women who fought with him, they deserve to know he's alive."

"And that is a problem," Elizabeth noted. "You may be loyal to us, but not everyone may share it."

"They will," Ethan assured her. "I can promise that. We've moved on, we have lives here now. But this is one thing they need to know."

"I'd question need," Matthew said slowly. "But I won't deny they have a right to it. So I suppose the question is if you'd bet their lives on it?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

"In the event that they hear this news and decide to leave," Matthew said slowly. "They will be traitors and executed. You will be the one to do so if that happens. I consider that fair, do you?"

"I do," Ethan agreed with a firm nod. "But that won't happen."

"You should hope not," Zara agreed. "But I don't want this spread widely. Take your soldiers aside if you wish, but tell them to keep it to themselves."

"Then that's settled," Saudia said. "Is there anything else?"

"In fact there is," Elizabeth said, relief in her voice. "Some good news. We've reacquired Subject Four along with her boyfriend. Both are being sedated and moved to a secure location."

"I thought you were going to wait," Darian said, scratching his chin. "Some kind of method for infiltrating XCOM."

"With our decision, it would have been useless anyway," Elizabeth shook her head. "Besides, I didn't want to delay it any longer. Both of them are perceptive and I didn't want to lose them again."

"Good work," Saudia complemented, relieved to finally hear that. "Be sure to keep her sedated until she's safely in the Bastion. Until we know the full extent of her powers, just having her conscious is dangerous."

"Trust me," Elizabeth assured her, raising a hand. "We've borderline drowned her in sedatives. It took four tranquilizer darts to take her down in the first place. She's not waking up without us letting it happen."

"Good," Saudia looked around the table. "Any other updates?"

"Ah, I do, actually," Darian said, lifting a hand slightly. "Thanks to Dr. Tygan and his team, we can now safely genetically modify our soldiers, which will give them enhanced reflexes, strength and perception. Not revolutionary, but it could give us an edge in the future. The only catch is that it requires the alien bonding agent, but we have ample supply of that at the moment."

"I want my guard to be enhanced," Zara stated. "Preferably as soon as possible."

"Speaking of Tygan, how is the good doctor?" Saudia asked curiously. "I would think that he'd have questions about recent events."

"He would if he knew about it," Darian answered dismissively. "But that isn't a concern at the moment. He's too absorbed in his work and I've only allowed the TV stations and internet to allow only those we directly control. Tygan is taken care of."

"Then let's get back to it," Saudia nodded, one firm nod of finality. "We have much to do."

EXALT Bastion Transport

"They took it pretty well, all things considered," Saudia murmured into Ethan's shoulder as she leaned against him. She knew that the moment that they landed, it would be back to their hectic duties and figured she might as well enjoy the short time where everything was quiet.

"They're all professionals," Ethan said. "But I was impressed; and now we have a plan. I'll try contacting the Commander within a few days. Don't worry, I'll take the necessary precautions."

Saudia smiled to herself. "Ethan, you don't have to constantly reassure me you'll use common sense. I trust you."

"Sorry, habit," he apologized lightly. "I do wonder how the aliens are faring. I assume their war with XCOM is still continuing without our 'help.'"

"Probably the same as before," Saudia shrugged. "But since XCOM doesn't really publicize their battles, I doubt we can accurately gauge how the war is going. I doubt the aliens themselves will answer."

"True," Ethan agreed. "I'll ask the Commander, provided he'll actually share that."

"Director, we're approaching the Bastion now," their pilot informed them. "Prepare for landing."

Saudia reluctantly straightened up and strapped in. Ethan did the same and they felt the plane slowly dip as usual. Everything seemed to be going according to standard until the pilot spoke again. "Director, the Bastion is not responding to our request for landing."

Saudia frowned. "Try again. The weather may be interfering. Otherwise just land, you have my authorization."

"Copy, Director. Though communications should be working regardless. I'll have it checked out later."

"He has a point," Ethan muttered after a few seconds, concern hardening his face. "All of equipment was designed to work in hazardous conditions. Not to mention is meticulously maintained."

"We'll sort it out once we land," Saudia said, though inside she was now questioning that herself. Her hand unconsciously went down to her hip where her laser pistol was.

"Coming in for a landing," the pilot informed. "Director, a UFO has landed just outside the entrance."

"What?" Saudia demanded. "Is-"

"There appears to be no signs of a fight," the pilots answered quickly. "Nor does the Bastion appear to be on lockdown." The plane hit the ground with a thud and they waited a few tense minutes before it finally stopped. Saudia unstrapped and stormed towards the exit and quickly descended into the frigid outside.

The hangar was deserted and sure enough, a UFO was landed just outside the entrance, conveniently off to the side to allow them to land safely. This one was different though, it was smaller and the gray metal was darker than the previous UFOs. She pursed her lips. It was bad enough when the Speaker had the audacity to simply announce he was coming; now he did it without even checking with them first.

He'd better have a damn good explanation for this, especially considering EXALT had been extremely lenient towards their gross disrespect of authority. If they'd somehow found out they'd captured Subject Four and demanded to turn her over…No, this was one thing she wouldn't allow.

Not this time. EXALT had been too soft on the alien's demands. Sure, they'd provided them with advanced tech, but that didn't give them the authority to walk all over them, which had gone on long enough.

"Let's see what's going on," Ethan said, coming up behind her. He'd grabbed his laser rifle and with a nod they both entered the Bastion. Almost immediately they saw the four guards lying on the ground.

Saudia sucked in her breath and dashed over towards them, and that's when she realized that they weren't dead as she'd feared. She felt chills run through her as she heard their subdued moans and gasps of agony. She rolled one of them over and realized that they were all unconscious as well, but clearly in some kind of pain. Dried tears were on some of their cheeks which disconcerted her most of all.

EXALT soldiers, and especially those at the Bastion were the toughest soldiers imaginable. They could have their arm blow off and only grit their teeth in response. These soldiers appeared untouched, yet had been reduced to tears and unconsciousness by…what? A drug?

"This doesn't bode well," Ethan muttered, as he tried shaking one of the fallen soldiers who suddenly screamed as he shook her and dropped her quickly as a result. "This isn't right."

She swung her head towards him incredulously. "And how long did it take you to come up with that? No, it's not right."

His eyes widened suddenly. "Do you think they've taken the whole base…?"

A wave of fear swept over her as she caught his implication. "Martel…"

"Go to him!" Ethan stated urgently as he quickly rose and she suddenly grabbed his arm.

"No!" She insisted. "They're here to see me. You go to him, I'll handle this alien and if he's hurt…"

"I'll sound the alarm if he is," Ethan growled. "And if he's safe, I'm coming right back to you."

"Do that," she nodded, focusing ahead. "They probably went to the Control Room, but knowing them they'll probably come to me."

"I'll be back soon," he promised as he headed towards the quarters. "Deal with them."

Saudia nodded and strode over to the elevator and hit the button taking her to the main floor. While she rode it, she tried conceiving of what could have possibly happened. The group of soldiers she'd seen had seemingly been relatively unharmed, at least on the outside, so that severely limited the explanations.

Except…she tensed as a new explanation wormed its way into her mind. Psionics. They knew Subject Four could utilize some form of mind control, which was how she'd managed to escape in the first place. And that was an untrained, scared girl who'd just wanted to get out. Who knows what an actual trained psionic could do, it might be enough to cause the effects she'd seen.

Which meant this upcoming confrontation was going to be even more dangerous than she'd thought. She sincerely doubted that one psionic would be able to take the base, but would be deadly on an individual level. Though now that threw into question who exactly would be waiting for her. The thin men had never demonstrated any psionic abilities, only the sectoids, though that didn't necessarily exclude them since the sightings were rare to begin with.

She drew her pistol. Well, if the aliens even tried messing with her mind, she'd kill them, alliance or no. the elevator stopped with a loud ding and the doors slid open and she walked into the main hall. Off to the sides were more soldiers similarly unconscious and in pain, curled up on the floor or clutching their heads. At the end of the hallway was the Speaker.

Time to get answers.

Her footsteps were loud even on the carpet, and the Speaker turned from looking at the paintings on the wall towards her. Saudia was expecting him to look smug, pleased even, or at least giving the illusion of normalcy. But to her surprise and concern…the Speaker actually looked afraid.

But clearly not of her.

"What are you doing here?" She growled as she stormed up to him. "I thought I made myself clear last time."

"I assure you, Director, you made yourself quite clear," he answered, not bothering to even disguise the annoyance in his voice. "So much so that one of the Elders decided to take you up on your offer."

Saudia blinked. "And this is how he arrives? By attacking my soldiers?"

The Speaker shook his head. "There was no attack. Not like you're imagining. I warned you about attracting the attention of the Elders. Congratulations, Director, you now have it."

He motioned towards the Control Room. "The Ravaged One awaits you in your control room," he said quietly. "Treat him with respect or face the consequences."

That must have been a title or something. Though it seemed oddly childish and dramatic, not exactly what she would have expected from the Elders. Well, it was going to take more than a melodramatic title to actually intimidate her. But she figured it was best to treat him reasonable until she knew more about his actual capabilities.

She shook her head as she passed two more downed guards, but knew there was little she could do until she dealt with this Ravaged One. Her stride strong and swift, she kept walking closer to the entrance, his pistol firmly in hand.

And gasped as she felt her left arm break.

She froze and looked down in shock as she looked down at the mangled arm, twisted beyond normal, scraped and bloodied, the pain sharp with each minute motion. She hissed, no, no, this couldn't be real. It was exactly like she remembered. Her arm had been broken once, but years ago in a botched training exercise in the Gauntlet.

But it felt real.

But it wasn't. It couldn't be.

Then her arm blurred and it was fine again. What the hell? She blinked looking at her now fine arm, and gasped as now her upper chest felt like it had just been shot. Ignoring the pain for the moment, she cautiously reached up to where she felt the impact and shivered as her fingers touched blood and with some actual disconcertion, she looked down on her bloodstained shirt and saw the area around the bullet hole soaked with blood, the fabric itself torn by the bullet.

Her head snapped up towards the door. It had to be the Ravaged One, toying with her mind somehow. But it felt real. This shouldn't be possible. Nothing could be recreated so perfectly. Pushing through the stabs of pain in her shoulder, she stumbled over to the door and placed her bloody palm on the scanner to let her inside.

As the door slid open she realized that she was pressing her free hand over her wound and forcefully removed it. This wasn't real, she wasn't going to worry about blood loss because this wasn't real, no matter what her mind screamed otherwise. She forced herself to stand up straight and took a confident step into the control room, resting a blood-covered hand onto her pistol once more.

It was worse than she'd feared. Everyone had been at their stations, presumably doing their jobs. Now everyone was either slumped over in their seats or sprawled on the ground. But what instantly put her on edge was that the room was completely silent, and that was when she realized that everyone in the room wasn't in a constant state of pain.

They were dead.

Everyone's dead face was either contorted in pain, wounded or had an expression of absolute terror. None had died in peace. Some bodies had pistols in their hands, their heads with bullet holes leaking blood onto the ground. Others held fleshy eye sockets and bloodied fingers, still more bodies were wounded on arms, legs, with a knife or other blunt object in their hands.

In the middle of the room, in front of the holotable, stood the Ravaged One.

He easily towered over her, his helm only a few feet from the ceiling itself. His body and arms were contained inside a robe of some kind, one that had likely once been pristine and clean, but was now a reflection of what she saw around her. The color was maroon and faded red, looking to her like a mix of dried and fresh blood. Thin gold stripes ran down the robes, but now they were either broken, faded or torn, much like the rest of the robe. Near the bottom the fabric had been scorched, ripped, and disintegrated, leaving the bottom of it looking tattered.

Now her legs felt like a knife had just been stabbed into them and it took all her willpower not to collapse to the floor, though was unable to hide her sudden rapid breathing as her eyes watered from the pain of simply standing up. But her anger for what had been done gave her strength, enough to raise her pistol towards the helm of the Elder.

"I have not come here to kill you, Director," The Ravaged One stated, his voice making her want to clutch her ears so she'd never have to hear it again. It was a voice of pure anguish; raw, wounded and tortured all at once. "You have no need of that."

Her pistol was suddenly yanked out of her hand and came to hover beside the Ravaged One, who extended a spindly hand from his robe, resting his palm underneath the hovering weapon. The skin was, or at least had been, a shade of purple. Now it was like the rest of him, faded almost to white. On the skin were open wounds, leaking a bluish liquid that didn't fall to the ground, instead the liquid spread out along the arm until it appeared to be absorbed into the skin. A faint purple flare also accompanied each wound, and she witnessed multiple of those, opening and healing just as quickly.

What was this thing?

The spindly finger wrapped around the pistol, and the Ravaged One brought it in front of his mask. "Inelegant, unrefined, but effective. Much like your own species; having potential, but failing to live up to it without a sculptor."

He then tossed the pistol back to her which she missed the instant her fingers touched the metal, immediately feeling like her hand was on fire. She looked down at the burning hand, it shaking as she struggled to move the burned flesh. Gritting her teeth, she looked back up at the indifferent alien. "What are you doing to me?"

"Making you remember what defines you," it stated, causing her to wince and look away as the wail bored into her brain. "Sentient creatures are shaped by many things; family, friends, life. But those are just modern rationalizations for more primal factors. Pain is the defining sculptor, one that shapes us on the outside and within. Your decisions in life are dictated by how much pain you are willing to endure for what you want, be it physical or mental."

"Spare me your rationalization," Saudia growled, trying to hide her voice from breaking. "You've made your point. You can stop it now."

The Ravaged One turned to finally face her, and she got a look at the helm he wore. It must have once been prestigious, judging from the curves on the sides and raised ridge on the top. There were two slanted rectangles for eyeholes, and a gaping opening where she'd imagine the mouth would be. It might not have been the intention originally, but it looked like it was screaming. The rest of the helm was in disrepair, the metal dull and corroded, with a large gash over the left eyehole just allowing her a brief glimpse of a faint purple iris.

As she struggled not to take a step back, he answered. "What makes you think I can?"

"Because you started it in the first place," she answered, shaking her head to try and clear a now-painful headache.

"You understand nothing of us," The Ravaged One stated. "I do not cause pain. I recall it. It is not something I can stop any more than you can breathing." His helmet inclined slightly. "The fact that you are still standing is a testament to your will, but you are not special. You simply contain decades of pain you've endured, healed and forgotten. Pain you are now reminded of. Pain you should have never forgotten to begin with."

"And why shouldn't I?" Saudia growled. "Enduring it once is enough."

"Because you will continue to make mistakes. Mistakes that will either cost your live of those of your family," he answered dispassionately. "You hold the pain of your mistakes, I hold the pain of my species in order to never forget what we can lose when we believe we are invincible."

"Enough," she spat, resisting the urge to cry as she felt her skin on both arms being shredded by toxic thorns. "Why are you here?"

"You stated that you wanted to deal directly with us," the Ravaged One answered, the air around him distorted slightly for a few seconds. "Here I am."

In retrospect, that seemed like a terrible idea now. "And what do you want?" She demanded through the pain.

"To remind you of your goal," the Ravaged One stated. "The one you promised to help us fulfill. A goal that you have failed to adequately complete. It was believed that you might be able to deal with XCOM, though that seems to have been disproven now, despite our help."

"We're dealing with them," Saudia muttered, casting a furious glare at the alien.

"Not anymore," he denied flatly. "Your directive has changed and should have never been that way to begin with. My predecessor mistakenly believed you to be nothing more than a blunt instrument. But what you are is a scalpel, not a sword. And now you will be utilized accordingly."

He took a step toward her. "I will deal with XCOM. You will ensure that the world collapses in our favor."

"And what does that entail?" Saudia demanded, gritting her teeth.

"Making the world go to war with each other," the Ravaged One explained, looking down on her. "Humans are emotional and reactionary, something that you recognize and have exploited. I've studied your world over the past months, and there are countries to exploit, only if you have the courage to carry them out."

"And what makes you think you can dictate what we do," Saudia stated, allowing her anger to push away the pain temporarily. "This is an alliance, nothing more. And after you've killed my-"

She was cut off as she felt herself enveloped in a tangible invisible field, and pulled off the ground towards the Ravaged One who extended a hand to catch her by the throat. Her skin felt on fire wherever the Elder touched, the acidic feeling enough to cause her to scream.

"What you want is irrelevant, Director," The Ravaged One hissed, holding her several feet off the ground with no apparent effort. "You never allied with us because you wanted to help. You only sought to advance yourselves." He took a painful breath and looked around. "Did you really think you could exploit us for your own selfish power?"

"We've helped you!" Saudia insisted.

"You want to rule," the Ravaged One hissed with certainly, his voice sending nails into her mind. "That is nothing less than your goal. But only a few stood in your way: the United Nations, and by extension, XCOM. You knew you couldn't beat them on your own, so you went to the only power that might give you what you needed. Your organization was never about the advancement of humanity. It was a means of power."

"You are wrong," Saudia hissed. "You know nothing about us."

"No?" The Ravaged One brought her in closer so she could clearly see the glowing purple iris. "Do not lie, Director. Your mind is open to me, I know what you are. You enjoy the power that comes with your position. You thrive on authority over others, you pride yourself on being controlled, collected and superior to those around you."

He tossed her back and dropped her near where she'd been standing before. Saudia coughed and gingerly touched her throat, immediately pulling pack as she felt the skin around her throat split open as soon as she touched it. As she struggled to her feet, the Ravaged One continued, withdrawing his arm into his robe.

"Your arrogance made you believe you were immune to consequence. You were so sure of your own intelligence and superiority that you believed you could betray us and take the world as saviors. Your delusions are at an end, Director. Your goals are a pointless aside to ours, your motivations irrelevant. Live in your fantasy of rebellion if you wish, but you will carry out our instructions in the end."

The Ravaged One took several steps toward her until he was directly over her. "You are not required for the future, Director. If you cannot be loyal, then someone else will take your place. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she spat furiously. "Yes I do."

"You say the words, but lie all the same," the Ravaged One stated, as Saudia doubled over from a new wave of pain coming from her stomach. "Your thoughts aren't hidden from me. You want to kill me; make me pay for what I've done…." He looked down at her, as she fell to one knee. "These deaths are not my fault, Director. They are a direct consequence of your actions."

He looked around the room in his ruined helm. "You were the one who wanted to speak to me, your pride preventing you from accepting anyone lower. You are the one who decided to use us, your superiority blinding you to the fact that you aren't special. You are the one who wanted to betray us, your arrogance deluding you into believing you are somehow equal."

Saudia's breathing increased rapidly the longer he spoke, her thoughts all jumbled as pain seemed to be coming everywhere within her. "Your species has potential," the Ravaged One continued, a hand extending from the ruined robe, palm extending upwards. Saudia gasped as she was lifted up once again, suspended before the Ravaged One, her skin feeling like fire.

"That is the only reason I have elected to continue this agreement," he stated, as her eyes rolled into her head as she struggled not to go into shock. "Because EXALT can still be useful. You just need direction. You need motivation. Your species will become part of the uplifted, Director, but you…I know you will not last long in our remade world. You are too rebellious, too independent to accept any truth other than your own."

"Then why am I still alive?" Saudia gasped, unable to move any part of her body caught in the Ravaged One's stasis field.

"Because I require nothing more than your loyalty," he answered firmly. "Killing you would be removing a potentially useful tool. You are talented, strong-willed and intelligent, Director. I lose more throwing EXALT into chaos with your death than leaving you alive. You may wish my death every day, but so long as you follow our directives, you will retain the power you crave." He paused. "And should you fulfill your duties to us…you may even attain what you've sought since this organization was conceived."

His hand was withdrawn back into his robe and she fell to the ground with a thud, the impact causing her to scream and she almost blacked out then. "Remember what you've endured today, Director," the Ravaged One spoke above her. "Let this pain shape you into something greater than the selfish woman you are. Pray we do not meet again, because next time, you will die."

She heard footsteps as he walked away, leaving her on the floor, trying to regain control of her muscles. "Farewell, Director," she heard him say. "Sleep."

And with that one command, Saudia Vyandar fell into a deep and tortured sleep.

A/N: Welcome to Act III.

-Xabiar