The Obsolete Protector

by M10m gas mask soldier

Upon being revived 10 years after being murdered by Sofia, Subject Delta has to fight his way back to his beloved master Eleanor. However, he is not alone. Upon being reunited, the two Alpha Series Big Daddies must get to their captured daughters before it is too late. Meanwhile, Eleanor wishes for Delta to be more than her father. Burial at Sea connections. AU BioShock 2.

23. Chapter 23: Exploited Souls

Ch. 23: Exploited Souls

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A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the wait!

In this chapter, Eleanor confronts several harsh realities and grows as a result of them.

Thank you for the feedback everyone! I appreciate it!

Read and review if you want.

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After the machine had verified that I had enough ADAM in my system to purchase the products held within its worn frame, I began to browse through the available genetic upgrades. There was another upgrade to how much physical punishment my body could withstand and also another upgrade to how much EVE my body could store within its blood stream at one time. In addition, I saw an upgrade for the Electro Bolt and Incinerate! Plasmids. As I continued to look through the available products, I saw the basic versions of the Winter Blast, Insect Swarm, and Cyclone Trap Plasmids.

Naturally, it was tempting to want to splice both new Plasmids and their improved variants to be able to possess even more god-like power. Human nature was such that one always preferred overt power over covert power. Indeed, in a perfect world, I would have been able to splice a wide variety of the powerful genetic weapons. Unfortunately, life was never a fairytale world.

My enemies had evolved to be far more effective killers than I was ever designed to combat and they were getting stronger by the minute. My supply of ADAM would be limited due to the method by which I was harvesting it. The Little Sisters were physically limited in their capability to produce the substance and, according to the information that Eleanor was sharing via our bond, former Gatherers such as Jennifer could not produce ADAM that would not be lethal to anyone other than their bonded Protector.

Sofia and Alexander had tried to use the Big Sisters to produce ADAM when the supply of girls that could be transformed into Little Sisters began to reach a critically low level in the city. However, they had found that the introduction of large quantities of estrogen and other growth hormones that naturally occurred during the part of a human being's life-cycle known as puberty had caused drastic and unexpected changes to the chemical makeup of the ADAM produced in their bodies. The changes in the ADAM rendered it literally corrosive to everyone except the young woman whose body produced it. Alexander had even gone so far as to liken the effects of introducing the Big Sister's ADAM into a human host to that of pumping pure industrial-grade hydrofluoric acid directly into the host's blood stream.

Normally, ADAM behaved as if it was a benign cancer. However, the Big Sister's ADAM behaved as if was a hyper aggressive cancer that rapidly consumed the cells of the host. For a while, Alexander and what remained of the partially sane population of scientists in Rapture believed that the only exception were the cells of the Big Sisters. That all changed the day that they found Subject Alpha and Emily in their hideout. Emily had been sharing her ADAM with her Alpha Series Big Daddy and my brother had suffered no ill effects from it.

Upon involuntary testing, Alexander and his team discovered that the unique physiological Father-Daughter Bond of the Alpha Series Protectors and Gatherers had been far stronger than previously believed. Just as the Gatherer had been imprinted upon the Protector to ensure that he would never leave her side, the Protector had, in turn, been imprinted upon the Gatherer. Her very body itself was bonded to her protector. When Emily underwent the changes during puberty, her ADAM did not become anymore corrosive to Alpha than it did to herself. Whether or not this was true for all Alpha Series Big Daddies was unknown due to the fact that Sofia had ordered for all of the remaining activate pairs to be hunted down so that she could eliminate the last remaining obstacle to her control over the city.

With only the ADAM from the Little Sisters that I would encounter on my journey to Fontaine Futuristics at my disposal, I would have to be strategic with my choices. One-on-one, there was not a Splicer in all of Rapture that I could not kill. One-on-one, not even an Elite Big Sister was a match for the monster Subject Delta. However, the use of raw power alone to win battles was a path of inevitable evolutionary failure. Instead of enhancing my offensive power, I would need to remain steadfast to the ideals by which we in the Alpha Series Protectors held upheld above all else. Versatility; adaptability; loyalty to no one except ourselves; death before dishonor, these were what defined us and they were the reason for our superiority over the Mass Production Models and the Splicers.

A memory flashed before my Mind's Eye. U.S.S. Torrey was anchored inside the hidden cove and we had completed our preparations for our solo assault on the Japanese Mainland. We were all in the galley (the cafeteria). Silently, we all stared at the highly questionable food before us as we all individually lamented on our impending demise. Ol' Torrey had survived the impossible before but this time we had an uneasy feeling that these would be our last few hours on this Earth. We knew that Command would never allow us to survive the war and it finally seemed as if they had found a way to be rid of us once and for all.

Suddenly, our captain walked into the room. The weathered veteran was wearing a standard enlisted sailor's uniform instead of his officer's attire as yet another way to insult what he called the "New Generation Navy that is more concerned about ranks and paperwork than their jobs as soldiers". We all simultaneously stood and then saluted our great leader. Captain McConnel walked to the center of the Mess Hall and then said, "At ease men. Let me ask you all a question."

We changed our postures so that we were standing at ease. Then, the old seadog asked us, "What defines power? Is it wealth? Is it influence? Is it steel and fire?" He looked around for a moment expectantly before he asked, "Anyone?"

When no one said anything, I spoke up by stating, "Power is defined by strength, sir."

McConnel pointed at me as he replied, "Strength...yes, yes, yes. That's good." Looking around at everyone in the room, he continued, "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Power is no exception. We are about to rush straight into the lion's den. The Japs are superior to us in both numbers and equipment. However, that is why we will survive."

A wave of confusion rolled through us as we tried to understand what he meant by that. Our leader finally smiled and then explained, "None of our superiors believed that we would ever get within eye sight of the Japanese Mainland. Yet, here we are. You see? Tojo's chain is massive but it has a weak link. Our chain is small but it is indivisible. Our greatest enemy now is ourselves. Steel yourselves, men. Remain strong and there is no way that we can fail."

The memory faded away and I was left with my thoughts. McConnel was not exactly all there when it came to his mind. However, he did have a good point. No matter how strong I became, it would be my weaknesses that would be my downfall if I did nothing about them.

While I was a formidable juggernaut in a typical fight, there were flaws in my design. Among several issues was that my massive frame and suit limited my flexibility. While it was not inherently enough to affect me in combat, it could easily prove to be my Achilles's Heel if it was exploited by a group of enemies or one perceptive foe. As it had been demonstrated mere minutes prior, in the event that one or more Splicers managed to get past my strong offensive front, my options to dislodge them were extremely limited. Before upgrading my Plasmid arsenal, I would need to find efficient solutions to problems like that in order to ensure my place as the Apex Predator of Rapture.

Looking through the available Gene Tonics, I saw a possible solution. An otherwise unassuming Tonic named Electric Flesh could potentially be the difference between life and death if it was combined with a self-inflicted blast of the high-powered Electro Bolt Plasmid. As I recalled for my days as Fontaine Futuristics's involuntary guinea pig, Electric Flesh altered the skin cells of the individual by embedding a sequence in their DNA that caused the cells to produce a kind of organic armor that had a detectable electrical charge along its exterior. The organic armor resembled a kind of thin layer of naturally occurring oil on the surface of the individual's skin and the small electrical current could be seen occasionally arcing across his or her body.

The tonic had the effect of not only neutralizing any electric current that came into contact with the individual's body, it also had the effect of boosting the output of Plasmids such as Electro Bolt. I still had several weaknesses to address but, for now, the addition of increased Health and EVE combined with Electric Flesh would certainly put me on the evolutionary path that was worthy of my brethren's legacy of being the true Big Daddies of Rapture. After selecting the three upgrades with the tip of my drill and enduring the few moments of discomfort, I removed my arm from the slot in the Gatherer's Garden.

I remembered that there was a Circus of Values Vending Machine just up the street to my left and began to make my way towards it. My suit had been designed with extended combat in mind so it was built to maximize the longevity of stored Health and EVE resources. However, Jennifer had reported that the Splicers had transformed The Pearl into a death trap for Protectors so I would need as many resources as possible when I made my way through it.

As I made my way down the war-torn street, I heard Jennifer engaging what was most likely a Brute Splicer judging by the deep voice and sounds of a large mass moving around. I mentally sighed with a sad tone as I thought of the tragic young woman that had once looked at the world around her with an admittedly odd but still bright-eyed and hopeful manner. Her recent dialogue with Subject Delta had indicated that she was in a far worse place than I had originally thought. I would need to keep a close eye on her to prevent her from acting upon her threats.

Suddenly, as I reached the vending machine, Eleanor said through our bond, "That tramp…if she gets near you I will snap her neck."

Fighting to keep from losing my temper, I berated her, "Damn it Eleanor, would you think with your mind instead of your hormones!"

With a shocked tone, my daughter whimpered, "F-father?"

I continued, "Listen, kid. If you want to ever want to survive on the surface, you need to learn how to think with your mind and look at those around you!"

Now sounding much like the young girl that I had protected all those years ago, the beautiful young woman said timidly, "She…she…but…she said…with my father."

Irritated, I replied, "No. She. Did. Not. That is what I meant by thinking with your mind and not your hormones. As smart as you are, Eleanor, you can be very oblivious and ignorant sometimes."

Eleanor admitted, "I…I don't understand."

I explained, "Jennifer has a death wish. She is so lost without her Protector that she wants to die in order to be reunited with him. That is why Sofia had her become an assassin. If it is obvious to me, then Sofia surely knows about Jennifer's desire to die. That makes her a perfect killer…i.e. assassin. However, what she is and her body's hardwired instincts for self-preservation have prevented her from finding an enemy that is capable of killing her. That is…except one…Subject Delta. Understand now, kid? She wasn't flirting…she was asking for death."

Eleanor was silent for a moment before she replied, "I'm sorry, Father. I have just missed you so much…to think that I overlooked signs of my sister's suicidal desires…I will try to be more rational and objective in the future."

As I purchased several First Aid Kits and EVE Hypos from the vending machine, I remarked, "That's my girl. Don't worry, it is easy to overlook such harsh realities even if they are right in front of you. As much as you hate her, your mother did try to teach you how to recognize the weaknesses of others even if they are not consciously aware of them. You need to utilize that knowledge if you want to succeed on the surface."

My daughter replied, "I will, Johnny. When I fall, you will be there to grab me and help pull me back up."

A wave of silent dread washed over me briefly before I replied, "Yeah kid…sure I will."

Eleanor then asked me, "What do we do about Jennifer?"

I asked in response, "You tell me, El. What can we do considering the circumstances?"

After a moment, she replied, "Well, we cannot directly confront her without risking opening ourselves up to attack from Splicers nor do we have the time for an intervention. Considering that we would be causing her great emotional distress, it would probably be best for everyone if we simply monitor her without interfering unless it is absolutely necessary. She is a strong-willed individual and she may not even be willing to allow herself to be saved so monitoring is the only course of action that we can take for now. Ultimately, it is going to be her decision whether or not she can be saved."

Sensing her falling heart, I assured the blossoming beauty, "It is not your fault, kid. That is one lesson that you need to learn. Somethings cannot be saved…some people too. Ultimately, it is their decision. All you can do is your best to help them. However, some people just cannot be saved."

Having resupplied, I began to cut through the path between the building to my left and the abandoned restaurant and bar to my right. Just ahead was the entrance to The Pink Pearl and I saw the slain Brute Splicer lying in a bloody heap on the ground to the right of it. As I neared it, my built-in radio crackled to life before Tenenbaum addressed me with her thick accent, "Herr Delta, can you hear me?" I let out a deep grunt in response. She continued, "I have heard about the continued kindness that you have shown the Little Ones. The path of the righteous is not always easy, yes? Eleanor and I have been working together to prepare several gifts for you to demonstrate our appreciation. Subject Sigma's work continues and we will require more time. Please, continue putting pressure on Sofia Lamb."

My radio deactivated and I found myself standing before the entrance to the brothel. To my left, I noticed another strange mural that must have been created by Father Wales. It consisted of a Little Sister's Gathering Tool that was locked inside of a long glass case that was sitting on top of a steel stand that was against the far wall. Around the stand were multiple lit white candles that had been burning for quite some time. Above the case was a large painting of a man that had his back to the viewer.

The man was clad in a Rapture Surgeon's suit. The "ЯR" in a white circle that was also present on the back of a Rapture Security Officer's uniform was visible on the back of the surgeon's uniform. The man had his arms raised up and out to the side in the air in what appeared to be a declaration of triumph over the grisly sight of three horribly disfigured women suspended in the air before him from where they were chained to what resembled the cross-shaped surgical tables that members of the Alpha Series were converted into Protectors on. While I could not see the man's face, the red color of his surgeon's suit made it clear who was being depicted.

Dr. Steinman a.k.a. The Mad Surgeon of Rapture was infamous for being just as crazy as he was gifted when it came to his "field". He was a regular Michelangelo who was either a babbling madman or the greatest mind that the world had ever seen depending upon who you asked. What the connection between this painting and the others that I had encountered so far was escaped my understanding. Perhaps the meaning behind them would be revealed to me as I continued further into the ruins of Siren Alley.

Jennifer jumped down from where she had been waiting for us on the second floor walkway of the buildings behind me to be standing to my right. As I mentally prepared myself for the coming struggle, I heard Jennifer ask my temporary charge, "Is something wrong, Sister Eleanor?"

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister replied with her edged tone, "No, why do you ask?"

Jennifer explained, "You were looking at me with concern."

With noticeable guilt present in her voice, my bonded partner said, "I am sorry that I snapped at you, Sister Jennifer."

The heavily-armored young woman assured her, "It is quite alright. It was wrong of me to make such a request to my favorite Sister's Protector. I assure you that I do not desire to come between you and Papa Delta or cause either of you any further pain. I was temporarily overwhelmed by my memories of Papa Lambda. It will not happen again."

With time running short, I forced myself through the pair of ornate wooden doors and entered the building. I was met by the sight of a fallen Rumbler Mass Production Model lying against the wall of the island that stood between the entrance and the main lobby of The Pearl. The Tin Man's massive frame had multiple harpoon bolts sticking in it and there were also multiple harpoons sticking in the wall around it. In addition, there was a significant amount of bullet holes riddling the blood-soaked wall as well. Finally, there was a corpse of a woman that had been pinned to the wall by the numerous bolts that had penetrated her body.

At the feet of the fallen Rumbler was a harpoon gun. Upon examination, I found that the weapon was nonfunctional. The frame was cracked to the point of structural failure and the spring-loaded mechanism that fired the massive bolts was beyond the point of being restored as its worn out parts would put the operator in jeopardy if someone tried to use the weapon. However, the sight of the spring-loaded mechanism gave me an idea for a possible modification to my already highly-customized drill that I would have to attempt to build if I could locate the parts that I would need to make it work.

Near the corpse of the Mass Production Model, I saw a dirty brown canvas bag with a shoulder strap. The flap that normally contained the contents of the bag was up and I could see three or four metal balls the size of volleyballs. After a moment, I was able to identify them as inactive Mini-Turrets. However, they would be useless unless someone had a controller unit. Subject Alpha moved to be standing to my left. Then, to my surprise, he slowly laid his highly modified Prototype Rivet Gun up against the wall before us.

Intrigued, I silently watched as my brother slowly bent down onto his right knee before the Rumbler and then leaned in. The Alpha Series' most gifted and ruthless tactician then began to remove a small device from the top of the fallen Tin Man's left hand. It was no bigger than a memo pad and had two curved metal wires that formed a hollow horseshoe shape above the device's small cigarette package-shaped base.

After removing the strange device from the corpse of the Rumbler, Alpha held it up in the air before him and appeared to be examining it to determine if it was still functional. The device was indeed in working condition and my brother began to attach it to the top of his left gauntlet-encased left hand. Then, upon securing the small object to his hand, he gathered the dirty canvas bag and stood back upright. He secured the bag down by the right side of his waist by placing the strap over his left shoulder and underneath the ropes that held the heavy diving weight to his chest. It would have been more efficient if he had placed the bag so that it was by the left side of his waist but then he would not have been able to easily access his diving knife.

Upon retrieving his Rivet Gun, he picked up one of the Mini-Turrets and held it in my direction. Then, he commented with his Alpha Series voice, "I have always wanted one of these. The controller unit is so fragile that it rarely survives the killing of the Rumbler. The turrets are useless without the signal transmitted from the unit. Not only can this little beauty control the turrets but the controller unit is also a short-wave transmitter and scanner. I can scan and then hijack any radio signal in Rapture. Will not do anything to help us with the Security Systems because they are all either self-contained or are hardwired. However, I can hijack Lamb's remote signal jammer and then turn it against her. We and anyone who contacts us via our built-in radios will effectively be ghosts to her."

As impressed as I was by the ingenuity of my loyal brother, I still taunted him, "Never realized you were one of those college-educated egghead types."

He let out a series of grunt-like laughs as he placed the turret back into the bag before he replied, "Who me? No, sir. The university suits design things but guys like us know how to build them."

I let out my own series of grunt-like laughs before I began to make my way around the left path to the main lobby. Along the wall to my left was a Gene Bank, several harpoon bolts, and the body of a man that had been pinned to the wall by the multiple bolts penetrating his corpse. I continued forward to find an advertisement for Eve's Garden at Fort Frolic along the wall to my right. The scandalous red-haired woman could still be seen holding the large red apple that had the words "Come bite the Apple!" along its surface. As I made my further down the left path, I saw a water-damaged advertisement for the ReJuvena Skin-Tightening Tonic along the left wall. The advertisement had been so badly damaged that only the ghostly image of a woman and the large text could still be seen along its moldy surface.

At my feet, cracks in the surrounding plumbing had allowed a river of water to flow along the once pristine ornate wooden flooring. An invading mass of vines had begun to take root as a result of the supply of water. Considering that most plant species could not stand salt water, the source must have been fresh. The vines were similar to the ones that I had seen in Arcadia all those years ago. I was not aware of any cross contamination between the sections of Rapture but these vines seemed to be evidence in support of that notion. Of course, the plants could have had a local source that I had yet to encounter.

Finally, I reached the entrance to the main lobby. I grimaced beneath my copper and glass façade as I saw the unimaginable deterioration that had taken place in the building. From my vantage point, I could see that all three floors were on the verge of structural collapse. In the main lobby alone almost all of the supporting columns had fallen to the ground. One of the key metal support beams had fallen to embed itself into the wooden floor in a vertical position. Multiple fires were either visible or their telltale crackling could be heard from the interior of the floors. Several of the walkways of the upper floors had collapsed and had been replaced by haphazardly constructed bridges of pieces of boards.

It was on the haphazardly constructed walkway directly before me on the second floor that I saw what was once a young man dressed in casual street clothes and a young woman that was clad in a torn, mildew-covered lacy red dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Somewhat ironically, the two Splicers were standing in front of an advertisement for Ryan's mistress Jasmine Jolene.

Upon entering the lobby, I heard the female denizen address her potential male customer, "Well hey there handsome."

The man responded, "Hey there…umm…how much?"

The working girl replied, "Twenty bills and I'm all yours, sailor."

With a dead pan tone, the man said, "Oh great…twenty bucks…for anything I want, right?"

The prostitute giggled and then answered, "Anything is fine by me, sugar. So long as…" Her voice became a whisper and I could not make out the rest of what she said.

Though twenty bucks was cheap considering that a single First Aid Kit was twenty eight dollars at a vending machine, the potential John tried to lower the price by asking, "Can we negotiate the price…huh?"

Before the working girl could reply, Alpha threw one of his Mini-Turrets towards them. The volleyball-sized metal object smashed into the wall just behind the female Splicer, causing them both to cry out in surprise and shock, and then fell to the ground. The sound of the turret's mechanisms springing into action filled the air for a few seconds. Then, as the two denizens were still bringing their modified Thompson Submachine Guns to bear, the turret began to pelt them with small caliber rounds.

The rapid fire of the turret's interior firearm quickly cut down the prostitute as dozens of the small caliber rounds ripped into her unarmored frame within seconds. Without having ever even fired a round from her Thompson, the bloodied, bullet-riddled Splicer collapsed backwards onto the floor. Meanwhile, the man had managed to open fire upon the turret and several of the .50 caliber rounds had hit home but the robust little automaton continued to fire its entire supply of ammunition into him. Finally, second later, the bullet-riddled male Splicer cried out and turned towards us before, in one final bid for salvation, he hurled himself over the side of the walkway.

To his credit, had it not been for a nearly invisible piece of metal rebar that was sticking out of a piece of concrete on the floor of the main lobby, the badly wounded denizen would have likely survived the landing. However, lady luck was just not on his side and, when his right clubbed foot made contact with the water-covered wooden floor, he slipped and fell forward to have his skull impaled by the piece of rebar. I watched with morbid curiosity as the body continued to twitch for a few moments until it finally ceased movement altogether.

A few seconds later, the Mini-Turret's self-destruction charge activated and it destroyed itself in one final bid to assist its master in a cloud of fire and shrapnel. The turrets were essentially wind-up toys that only had enough stored up energy to operate for a minute at the most until its internal gears ceased movement. When the gears stopped moving, the on-board explosive charge was activated and the entire device was destroyed.

Moving into the center of the lobby, I remarked, "Successful test."

Behind me, my heavily-armored brother stated in agreement, "Yes, sir."

From where she was riding on her throne on my back, the beautiful, seemingly innocent princess said, "They say that unsafe sex can be a potential threat to your health but I doubt that this is what they had in mind."

Realizing that I had taken my daughter into a brothel, I let out a self-loathing groan as a wave of shame rolled through my mind. I began to consider exiting The Pearl and taking my temporary charge to a nearby Little Sister Vent before returning. However, sensing my train of thought, the Eleanor-controlled young girl informed me, "I watched my father's head explode when I was a child. Do you really think that there is any innocence left in my heart to save?"

There was little point in trying to argue with her and she did have a valid argument. After watching her Big Daddy Protector die in an unimaginably brutal and violent manner right before her eyes when she was but a mere child, any innocence that Rapture had not yet taken from her before that moment was gone forever. Considering what she would encounter on the surface, it was probably for the best that she experienced the human cost of the World's Oldest Profession first hand while in the company of her Protector. After all, it was still my job to prepare her for the world. I needed for her to understand that only fools believed in the word "evil". Evil was just a word that masked the true identity of the cost of humanity's less noble desires and traits.

Turning to my left, I began to make my way to the flight of stairs that allowed access to the second floor. However, I had only taken four steps before I was suddenly overcome with the instinctive feeling of being watched. I wheeled around just in time to see two strange individuals looking down at me from the third floor. In the brief amount of time that I saw them, I could make out that it was a man and a woman that were similar, practically twins, in appearance. They were wearing identical attire of what looking like an early twentieth century light tan suit with darker pants/an ankle-length skirt, a golden or light brown vest, and a white collared shirt with a green tie. Their expressions were both of mild interest as if they were observing a scientific experiment rather than a life or death struggle for survival.

Something about them caused a feeling of nostalgia to stir within me. I was certain that I had never seen the strange pair before but at the same time I could not help but feel as if I knew them somehow. However, I blinked once and they were gone. Standing next to me, Subject Alpha inquired, "What is it, sir?"

Shaking off the experience, I turned back as I replied with the language that those of us in the Alpha Series had created, "Nothing. I thought that I saw something but I was mistaken."

I began to make my way to the stairs. As I did, Eleanor informed me through our bond, "I saw them too, Father. It is not the first time that I have seen them either."

Intrigued but also concerned about what malicious intent the pair might have, I asked with my gruff human voice, "Who are they?"

My beautiful daughter admitted, "I do not know but I do not believe that they are from our universe. Like that lying bitch, I think that they too are spread across the fabric of time and space."

I remarked, "I stopped questioning and trying to understand things a long time ago. As long as they keep their distance and do not try to interfere, I do not care who or what they are."

Eleanor purred with a teasing tone before she said, "Oh my…Daddy is so violent. Do you really think that even Subject Delta could kill something like them?"

I assured her, "If it bleeds, Delta can kill it."

By then, I had reached the stairs. The cracked wooden panels looked questionable but I had no choice but to ascend them. As I did, my radio powered to life and then, moments later, Sinclair addressed me with his southern accented voice, "The Pearl was among the ritziest lodgings in Rapture. But durin' the war, the residents put themselves up for sale…Daniel's office is on the top floor, I believe."

My radio had no sooner deactivated before I heard insane laughter and the telltale sound of sharp metal hooks being driven into wooden panels. Before I could react, a Spider Splicer scurried across the ceiling from right to left and then disappeared into the darkness of the area to the left of the second floor landing. A heavy metal security gate prevented me from being able to give chase so I had no choice but to continue forward.

Turning to my right, I exited the stairwell and entered the second floor. The clam shell lamps mounted to the walls flickered almost continuously as if they were seconds away from giving out altogether. Therefore, the real source of light came from the various open fires that had somehow not engulfed the entire structure yet. The green with red diamond-patterned carpet that had once graced the floor of the housing complex had been worn down into near nonexistence and various pieces of destroyed furniture, including a full-sized desk, dotted the area. From my vantage point, there was a set of double doors directly to my left, a path that lead to the left just beyond them, the walkway where the prostitute and the male Splicer had been standing beyond it that lead to the far end of the second floor where there was another path that lead to the left, and a path that went to the right where the next flight of stairs would be just before the walkway.

I had no sooner exited the stairwell before another working girl wielding a Thompson Submachine Gun appeared as she casually walked around the corner of the first path that led to the left. Upon seeing me, she cried out with a disgusted tone, "Send your daughter home, freak!" As she opened fire with her modified weapon, I revved up my industrial-grade drill and began to charge towards her as the electromagnetic dynamo upgrade deflected the incoming rounds back towards her. I easily smashed through and trampled the furniture that got in my way as I quickly closed the distance between us. Then, filling the air with the sickening sound of cracking bones, I slammed into her unarmored frame.

The raw power behind the impact was enough to send the Splicer flying back through the air about a foot. Continuing my charge, I trampled the denizen beneath my heavy weighted diving boots. After running a few more steps, I stopped and then turned back with my drill deactivated. The denizen was trying to crawl away but Jennifer simply walked up and then stomped on the back of the woman's head with the armored sole of her boot-clad right foot.

The sound of a Browning Light Machine Gun filled the air and I looked beyond the armored goddess to see Alpha firing a Hack Rivet at a sentry that was out of my line of sight down the first path. With Daniel's exact location within the brothel unknown, I decided that it would be worth trying to flush him out before storming the office on the top floor. I made my way back to the set of double doors. As I did so, I became aware of a woman singing "Ten Cents a Dance" somewhere either on the second or third floor.

As I neared my brother, I instructed him, "Guard this location. Make sure no one gets past you."

Unable to nod, the Protector gave a slight change in posture before replying, "Yes, sir."

I then walked past him and continued until I was facing the doors. Despite the rundown appearance of the brothel, the doors slid open to reveal what looked like a regular living room. Despite the lack of furnishing save for a small desk with a television set on top of it and a piano and refrigerator unit along the far back wall and the hole in the right wall, there was an air of normalcy about the apartment. Even the still functional television set suggested that there was nothing sinister happening within the residence's walls. However, I knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving.

I made my way into the apartment and soon found an eerily long hallway between the television set and the piano. The hallway continued back to another set of double doors. I instructed my accompanying Elite Big Sister, "Stay here and watch my back, Jen."

The armored assassin replied, "Yes, Papa Delta."

My caution was rewarded after only a few steps down the long hallway when the sounds of a Spider Splicer's insane laughter and hooks came from behind me. The shadow of the assailant appeared before me due to the light source behind me but I continued forward undeterred as the shadow of a far more dangerous predator consumed that of the Spider Splicer. Ignoring the numerous books that were scattered about on the floor, I continued towards the doors.

When I reached them, the automated doors slid open to reveal a bedroom. There were two Splicers, one man and one woman, in the room itself and then there was a third Splicer, a man, who was looking into the room from an opening in the wall which revealed a side room that was accessible via a set of doors. Upon seeing me, the third individual bolted for the doors and was gone before I could stop him. However, the remaining two denizens were trapped.

The man fired his Thompson Submachine Gun at me while the red dress and ripped black fish net stocking-clad woman began to cower in the far right corner. I revved up my drill while I simultaneously willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand into the male denizen. He cried out in agony as the high powered electrical arcs surrounded his frame until I rushed forward and neutralized him with a powerful thrust of my drill into the side of his skull.

As he crumpled to the ground in a heap, the sound of sections of metal chain hitting the wooden floor drew my attention back to the woman. It would have taken a much colder soul than mine to have not felt sympathy for the Splicer as I saw her desperately trying to run past me only to be stopped by the link of chain and shackles that held her to bed against her will. I powered down my drill as she began to frantically claw at both the shackle around her right ankle and the flesh of her lower right leg as if she was an animal trying to chew off its own trapped leg.

Finally, as I towered before her, the unarmed working girl ceased her desperate attempts to save her life and looked up at me with an expression of silent acceptance of her fate. I let out a series of grunts that were loud enough for my other companions to hear them and Eleanor translated for the Splicer, "You get a ten second head start. Run and never come back." Before the woman could reply, I swung my drill into a link of the chain that was near her ankle. The strength of my attack broke the metal link, freeing the Splicer. Not needing to be told twice, the freed working girl bolted for the exit of the apartment without ever looking back.

Looking back at the bed, I noticed that the man had also been chained to the heavy metal frame of the piece of furniture. The chains had been just long enough to allow the two individuals to reach the metal soup pot that was filled with slimy water, the frying pan that was filled with maggot infested food, the jukebox, and cruelly close to the unlocked doors.

Eleanor muttered in disgust, "They treat the animals in zoos with more respect."

I explained, "Because, there, the entertainment value comes from seeing the animals happy and healthy. Here, the entertainment value comes from making yourself happy while seeing the animals. Besides, zoo animals are very expensive and hard to come by so there is more incentive to take care of them."

I paused and then continued, "This is how this business works, kid. You are either the exploited or you are the exploiter. Death is usually the only way out but that choice is usually taken away from the exploited by the exploiter. Everything is taken away by the exploiter. The exploited are the exploiter's property…nothing more. Male…female…young…old…upper class…lower class…black…white...all means nothing in this business. You are either the spider or you are the fly. You either eat or you are consumed. It is the world's oldest profession and all it has been and all it ever will be is simple exploitation and pain."

After a moment, my daughter replied, "I see…thank you, Father. I will remember this."

With Daniel nowhere to be found, I exited the room and made my way back towards the exit. Upon exiting the apartment with Jennifer following close behind me, I found Alpha still ensuring that no one escaped the second floor. As I approached, my brother informed me, "Nothing to report, sir."

I replied, "Copy that. Continue holding this location."

The Alpha Series Big Daddy responded, "Yes, sir. No one will get past me."

Moving past him, I began to make my way down the first path that went to the left. At the end of the hallway, I saw the hacked Sentry Turret. Just to the left of the turret, I saw a yellow hydraulic jack that had been placed there to keep the ceiling from collapsing. However, upon reaching the far end of the hallway, I found that the jack had been a futile gesture because there was an enormous hole in the ceiling just to the right of the turret. Water trickled down through the hole and I could see the far back wall of the third floor through it. Just past the turret, I saw an exterior window that allowed a scenic view of the surrounding seafloor including coral, kelp, and several species of fish.

The sound of a man muttering himself drew my attention to the set of doors of an apartment that was just beyond the turret. With my drill at the ready, I approached the doors. When they opened, I found a badly damaged apartment that was barely the size of half a tennis court. Just beyond the entrance was a ruined couch where the corpse of a young woman with dirty black hair was slouched forward. Her arms were frozen stiff from rigor mortis and their positions suggested that she had been injecting herself with a Hypo. However, the object itself was missing and I realized, with a sickening feeling, that another individual had come along and taken it from the corpse. The extent that addicts were willing to go for a fix was often just as fascinating as it was revolting.

As I entered the small apartment, I noted the small bathroom to my left. The sound of footsteps drew my attention to my right where there was a sharp turn to what was likely the bedroom. Seconds later, a middle-aged man dressed in a dirty, torn business suit appeared with a disturbing satisfied expression on his horribly disfigured face. The man turned and saw me. The brief shock quickly disappeared as he demanded with an angry tone in reference to the Little Sister, "Hand her over!" The denizen had barely raised his modified pump-action shotgun before I had grabbed him by his neck with my left hand and then crushed his neck vertebrae. I dropped the corpse onto the floor and then inspected the bedroom area of the apartment.

There, I found the corpse of a man and a woman. The man was on the floor slumped against the foot of the bed and the woman was sprawled out in a prostrate position on the bed. Several bottles of cheap beer were on the floor around the bed and the male corpse had a partially emptied EVE Hypo stuck into his upper right thigh. Meanwhile, the female corpse had a fully emptied EVE Hypo stuck into her right arm.

The dried foam around her lips and her bloodshot eyes told the story all too well. Much like autoerotic asphyxiation, the dangerous act of splicing during intercourse caused a heightened state of sensitivity when the individual reached release but often provided to be lethal. On this occasion, the woman had overdosed. However, this had not been an accident judging by the bruising around her wrists where her assailant had held her down and how deep the Hypo had been driven into her arm, indicating that there had been absolutely no hesitation and a brutal amount of strength behind the thrust.

The woman was the only individual that had been chained to the bed and unless the assailant had an extra arm, the man at the foot of the bed was the killer's accomplice. Upon closer examination, I noted that the contents of the partially emptied Hypo were spilling out of the insertion site, which indicated that the man had been dead when the Hypo had been inserted into him. Why the other individual had tried to make it look as if the man was involved in the "accident" was beyond the scope of what I could observe in the room.

As for the disgusting expression of satisfaction of the Splicer that had just left the room, I noted that there a fresh pool of fluid on the back of the female corpse. Granted, due to the ravaging effects of years of ADAM withdrawal, there was a minute amount of fluid but there was still enough to make it clear what had occurred. With nothing else to see in the apartment, I began to exit the residence.

As I reached the exit, I suddenly heard Subject Alpha call out, "Sir! I have a visual on Daniel!"

Jennifer and I rushed out of the apartment and made it to the corner of the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of a man running back up the flight of stairs that went to the third floor. As I charged forward as fast as my massive frame would allow, I grunted, "Alpha, remain where you are and ensure that Daniel does not get past you in case he doubles back! Jennifer, try to cut him off!"

My two companions gave their respective confirmation. Within seconds, I had reached the second floor landing of the stairs. Above me on the third floor landing, I saw a man wearing a dirty yellow business suit with torn red pants and a bent top hat. Upon seeing me, the Splicer called out with an Irish accent, "Are you Simon?" He then tossed two Molotov Cocktails down onto the stairs as two electrified harpoon bolts appeared on the landing before him. He taunted, "Here's me peace offerin'!"

Weathering the assault, I ascended the stairs in pursuit of the wayward Wale brother. Daniel ran further into the third floor as he cried out, "Welcome to The Pink fucking Pearl, sweetheart!" Unaffected by the electrified harpoon bolts due to the recent addition of Electric Flesh, I pushed past them and continued to chase the Splicer. I exited the stairwell and turned to my right just in time to see a Spider Splicer flying towards me.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gloved left hand and then powered up my drill. As the temporarily paralyzed denizen was impaled by the whirling bit of my drill, I reached up and grabbed him by his scrawny neck. Before the man could even recover, I snapped the thin column of vertebrae and then ripped my still whirling drill out of him. I did not have time to waste on such distractions so I unceremoniously threw the twitching corpse into the nearby wall and then continued forward in pursuit of Daniel.

I turned the corner to find a seemingly deserted hallway. Most of the apartments had been sealed up and there was an abandoned refrigerator to the right of the path. Further down the hallway, I saw Jennifer engaging a Spider Splicer on the walkway. As I made my way towards her, I heard another one in the ventilation duct above my head. I had taken a few more steps before the denizen jumped down out of the open duct and landed on the floor before me.

The Spider Splicer had barely recovered from the landing before I jumped on top of him. The sound of cracking bones filled the air as the man was crushed by the weight of my frame. I withdrew from the Splicer before, letting out an irritated roar, I picked him up by his skinny neck and then threw him into the nearby collapsed metal support beam. The force of the impact jarred the metal beam loose and, letting out a loud screech, it toppled over to land against the wall above the entrance of the main lobby in a cloud of dust and flying concrete.

By then, Jennifer had dispatched her assailant and she informed me, "Daniel ran back into his office." The armored goddess and I gave chase and ran towards the end of the hallway. When we turned the corner, we found the entrance to his office. It was guarded by two female Splicers wielding Thompson Submachine Guns and a Security Camera that was mounted to the far wall. As she jumped onto the wall to my left, the Elite Big Sister informed me, "I'll deal with them. Go get Daniel or find the code." I rushed towards the doors while the young woman launched herself towards the Splicers and Security Camera.

Upon entering the apartment, I found that it was on the verge of collapsing. The floor was cracked in multiple places and the window mounted into the wall facing the entrance was compromised and ocean water was spraying into the room. A destroyed piano had been placed up against the window to stem the tide of the water but it was proving to be only partially successful in holding back the invading liquid. A large section of wall paneling was missing from the left wall and the corpse of a Spider Splicer was lying prostrate on the floor.

As I continued forward, I found a side path that went to the right. I entered the hallway to find that it led to the bedroom at the far end of the apartment. Daniel was standing there, seemingly cornered. However, as I approached, he yelled, "My brother sends you now?! A metal freakin' handy man?!" The wayward Wale brother then jumped down through yet another hole in the floor as two more electrified harpoon bolts appeared in the hallway to impede my advance. I pushed past the flimsy obstacles and entered the bedroom.

The bed itself was a destroyed, burned out frame that had been pushed up against the right wall. Upon realizing that I had not found what could actually be referred to as an "office", I turned to my left and found what I was looking for in a room just to the left of the bedroom. As I made my way towards the room, I heard yet another Spider Splicer and turned back to see it jumping out of the hole in the floor.

Growing tired of the constant interference, I growled and then electrocuted the denizen with my Electro Bolt Plasmid. Before the horribly twisted man could recover, I charged forward and slammed into his frame. The Splicer's death rattle briefly filled the air as he fell back into the hole. With the last annoyance dealt with, I turned back and then entered the office.

Upon entering the room, I found a desk covered with empty whiskey and beer bottles to the right with a locked wall safe behind it. Along the other walls were racks of unopened bottles of whiskey, wine, and beer. I stood in the center of the office and glanced around. Simon had mentioned leaving a gift to his brother in his office so there had to be a clue in the room that would give some hint about the code that would allow access into the other area of Siren Alley.

My frustration grew as I initially failed to see anything out of the ordinary. I ripped the door of the safe off its hinges and then tossed it aside. However, after rummaging through the safe's contents, I again failed to find anything that seemed to yield some kind of clue about the code. Given the dialogue from Daniel, I doubted that he would have considered Simon's offer and, thus, would not have bothered to keep the clue on his person. The code had to be in the room somewhere.

What would Simon have left for his brother? What would some religious fanatic have that could possibly entice or even catch the attention of some alcoholic low-life? Suddenly, it dawned on me. Looking back at the desk, I finally found what I was looking for. There among the empty bottles was one that did not belong. It was a sacramental wine bottle that had not been opened. Upon closer examination, I saw that there was a note attached to the neck of the bottle.

With as much care as I could manage with my massive left hand, I picked up the bottle and then lifted it up to the little girl that was riding on my back. Eleanor giggled before taking the fragile object from my grasp. As I lowered my arm, I asked, "See anything that could be a clue, kid?"

Jennifer appeared in the doorway as the Little Sister read the note, "To the only man that I ever loved, the year of his blood shall be your salvation. Simon." Eleanor paused and then asked in confusion, "The year of his blood shall be your salvation? What does that mean?"

I admit that I was stumped for a moment. However, I soon realized how incredibly simple the clue was and asked, "What is the vintage date of the wine?"

After examining the bottle, Eleanor informed me, "1919. Why?"

I explained, "That is the code to the door." Turning towards the exit, I remarked, "Okay, we got what we came for. Let's get out of this dump before the whole thing collapses."

I began to exit the apartment but, dropping the bottle of wine onto the floor, my daughter inquired, "But, Father...what about Daniel?"

I replied, "What about him? He can rot for all I care."

The stubborn young woman countered, "What about the exploited? What about their pain? Are you really just going to look the other way? Is that the kind of man that you are?"

I stopped in mid-step. Then, after letting out a grunt-like sigh, I replied, "Fine. As you wish…" I turned and then jumped down through the hole in the floor to continue my pursuit of Daniel. Eleanor had a point. Two wrongs did not make a right. Those that inflicted pain upon others were guilty but those that witnessed said pain and did nothing were just as guilty as the perpetrators themselves. Rivers of blood did not solve a problem such as prostitution but they did give justice to the victims.