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.

30. Chapter 30: Ghosts in the Ruins

Ch. 30: Ghosts in the Ruins

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A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry, I kind of had a rough semester so I did not get this done as soon as I had wanted to.

I also wanted to post this on New Year's Eve because it would have been cool to post it on the 31st of a year ending in a "9". But, I've been writing so much the past few days trying to get it done in time that I kind of passed out in front of my laptop before midnight.

It is kind of cool that I can help welcome in the new decade though, I guess.

Anyway,

So, a certain revelation happens in this chapter to move the plot of one of this fic's main side stories forward.

See, I am planning on pacing things out in a way that will have the main, core story and the side stories all concluding and coming together just in the time for the shit that's going to go down in Persephone.

Like...I have this cool image in my head where that entire part is basically like a huge, epic grand finale for all the character's and their stories.

I don't want to spoil any more of it so I'll shut up now :P

On a personal note, goodbye 2010's, thanks for all the memories...good and bad...and thank you for giving us BioShock 2 and Infinite.

So, here's my toast to all you guys who have graciously supported me and this story during this past decade of the 2010's (you have no idea how much it has meant to me and how much I truly appreciate how positive and receptive you have been to this story),

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2020!

May it be our finest year yet!

Read and review if you want :)

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For a brief moment after the water inside the airlock had been drained by the decayed device's miraculously somehow still functional pumps, an eerie silence filled the air. Only the humming of the airlock's ventilation fans broke the almost painfully quiet stillness that filled the remains of Dionysus Park like an invisible, choking fog.

However, the silence was broken seconds after the internal watertight bulkhead of the airlock opened when Eleanor asked me with a sorrowful tone, "It never could have worked…right? Rapture…even without ADAM and monsters like us?"

I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless copper façade before I jokingly replied, "Well, to be fair, it is less insane and ridiculous than a floating city up in the clouds."

From where she was riding on her throne between Subject Alpha's weathered metal "lungs", Emily asked me with the faintest trace of a teasing tone in the Little Sister's edged voice, "How would they make the buildings float, Papa Delta?"

I grunted in response, "Probably with one of those fancy, five-dollar-word things that I couldn't even pronounce."

Eleanor started to remark with a distant and longing tone, "I would love being so close to the Sun…"

However, my beautiful companion suddenly paused for a moment before she finished with an almost unsettling level of conviction in her accented voice, "…but only Rapture has Johnny Topside."

A wave of guilt washed over me as I heard the terrified, desperate cry of my then seven-year-old bonded daughter as Sofia ordered me to pull the trigger of the golden Luger that I was involuntarily holding to my head.

However, sensing it through our physiological bond, Eleanor informed me, "Father…you did nothing wrong. Besides…now Eleanor can play with Daddy and her grownup, adult body gets him hard just from looking at her."

Despite having become accustomed to my partner's new form of teasing, I still remarked out of habit, "Eleanor…"

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister giggled before she remarked, "And one little girl was not like the rest, Papa Delta."

Emily's Little One, meanwhile, innocently inquired, "Is Mister Bubbles in the floaty city?"

Jennifer explained to her younger sibling with her voice being slightly muffled by her armored Big Sister helmet, "Of course he is, silly. Mr. B is always there for the good little girls."

The Little Sister asked with a confused tone, "But…how does Sir Bubbles get in the sky? Does he fly like a bird?"

Her innocent question struck a chord inside of my mind and, to my own confusion, I was suddenly hit by a nearly debilitating headache while strange images flashed before my mind's eye. At first, I could not make any sense of the slideshow-like barrage of fragmented memories and I finally had to force myself to calm down and relax.

The human body was robust and, for the most part, did not require active, conscious commands from the brain to function at its best. However, the brain and mind were more sensitive to trauma and took much longer to recover. The Vita-Chamber had rebuilt my physical body to how it had been moments before my death. The Alpha Series Big Daddies were unique because of our large degree of free will, which, combined with our Pair Bond, made us extraordinarily formidable Protectors. However, while my body had never been stronger, it was going to take time for my mind to recover from experiencing the answer to the question of what happens when a human being dies.

Sure enough, after what was most likely less than a minute, the jumbled mass of images had been deciphered. I was vaguely aware of the sensation of something warm and wet trailing down the exterior of the horribly mutated remains of the right cheek of my former human self as I remembered what happened after the fight in the Toys Department in Fontaine's Department Store.

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December 31, 1958

Beneath the Atlantic Ocean

'Unstable?'

Eleanor's enchanting, accented voice filled my mind as my Little Sister idly communicated with me through the physiological link of our Pair Bond to keep me company while I finished the repairs to my Alpha Series Big Daddy suit. I was, for all intents and purposes, now finished with the majority of the repairs. However, as I had just been about to explain to my beloved little partner, I still required a new set of "lungs".

I had temporarily patched the heavily armored tanks on my back with a set of welding tools that I had found. However, until I located a proper replacement set of tanks, the set I had was, for lack of a better term, "unstable" due to the patches and it would be extremely dangerous for me to try to attempt to "walk" back to Rapture. Even at the pressures around Rapture itself, I would have likely been perfectly fine using my repaired set. However, due to the extreme level of water pressure at the bottom of the trench at the edge of the city, I would need a perfect set of tanks to make it without the risk of them catastrophically succumbing to the pressure. Because of my need for more parts, I had made my way into the large area of the Bathysphere Deluxe. There was a maintenance bay located within the store that would be the most likely place to find the proper parts to finalize the repairs of my suit.

However, a sudden female scream coming from the direction of the Silver Fin Restaurant interrupted my response to my beloved daughter.

The sight that greeted me when I turned my entire frame to face in the direction of the restaurant was one that made me question my own grip on reality. From my position near the middle of the second story flight of stairs near the far-left corner of the now Splicer-ridden main storeroom floor of Bathyspheres DeLuxe, I saw two men of average build that were clad in makeshift, athletic equipment-based armor as they were physically overpowering a disturbingly very alive Elizabeth DeWitt.

One of the Splicers was standing directly her as he restrained the valiantly struggling brunette by roughly gripping her neck with one hand and squeezing her wrists together behind her back with the other. Meanwhile, the other Splicer was slowly moving towards the pair as the disgusting creature taunted Elizabeth by sadistically waving his large pipe wrench around in front of him in a disturbingly playful manner so that she could see it.

The area around the entrance to the restaurant was noticeably more illuminated than the surrounding room due to the still fully functioning set of overhead lights so there was no mistaking the identity of the woman. However, my gut instincts were telling me that there was something significantly different this time. Elizabeth was still wearing the same disheveled outfit that consisted of a white long-sleeved blouse, black knee-length tight fitted skirt with a red belt, fishnet stockings, and black heels. However, her pale face was now covered with fresh, shallow cuts and the area around her right temple was discolored and inflamed as if she had recently been struck with enough force to be briefly knocked unconscious without inflicting any significant injuries.

What struck me the most, however, was not only the look in Elizabeth's eyes but also the drastic change in her overall demeanor. Even from where I was about approximately twenty yards away from the three individuals, I could see that the cold and supremely confident air that she had possessed previously was now completely absent. In fact, instead, the woman that had been seemingly able to bend Reality and the very fabric of the Universe to her will with disturbing ease now had vibrant blue eyes that were drowning in a sea of overwhelming despair, hatred, and desperation that was even more intense than what I had seen in the broken men and women inside Persephone.

As the wrench-wielding Splicer closed to be nearly within swinging distance, Elizabeth, in a brief display of an indomitable will and spirit, somehow managed to wrestle her right arm free. For a brief moment, the newcomer to Rapture had seemingly started to fight her way up the food chain as she caught the overconfident denizens off guard when she raised what looked like a .38 Webley Mk. IV Revolver and aimed it at the Thuggish Splicer in front of her with her free right hand. The pair of crazed addicts tensed up in preparation for the sidearm's payload to be unleashed from their prey as the one wielding the red, slightly rusted monkey wrench slowly backed away and the other began to move to be in position to restrain her arm once again.

However, moments later, the Splicers filled the relatively quiet showroom with inhuman, cackling laughter as a single gun shot rang out and the small caliber round hit its mark in the middle of the wrench-wielding denizen's forehead only for the firearm to then let out a loud click as Elizabeth tried to fire the double-action revolver a second time. Having failed to "Cross the T" and sever the brainstem at the base of the Splicer's skull, the young DeWitt had, thus, failed to actually kill the inhuman predator.

With only seconds to act, I let out an ear-shattering, guttural Alpha Series Big Daddy roar that shook the entire storeroom. All three of the individuals recoiled in shock as they all simultaneously looked in my direction. The majority of my suit had already been repaired so I was once again a fully functional Big Daddy Protector as I glared at the two denizens from beneath the thick glass of my segmented, glowing eye while letting out a low, threatening growl. Since the two Thuggish Splicers had likely been among those at Apollo Square, I lifted my left arm up and then turned my gauntlet-encased hand to make the still bright, glossy white stamp of "Delta" more visible to the pair.

Ryan Industries had started to put pressure on Dr. Alexander to cease production of both the Alpha Series Protectors and the Alpha Series Gatherers in favor of Suchong's much cheaper Tin Men and the far more docile Mass Production Little Sisters. Meanwhile, Point Prometheus had been turned into a shameless, nationalized manufacturing center for the Tin Men and the Little Sisters that still mutually wanted as little to do with the other as possible unless the latter was in danger. Thus, despite now being considered a failure as a viable Mass Production Model of Protector, for now, Ryan was essentially forced to rely on our self-disciplined and organized Gathering for a consistent enough level of ADAM Production to keep up with the demand now that there was a Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine on what seemed like every street corner.

The amoral city was moving onto the lumbering Tin Men, but, tonight, the Alpha Series were still feared as the Apex Predator of Rapture as evident by when the two Splicers reacted to the sight of the Greek symbol almost immediately.

The denizen wielding the monkey wrench even quickly looked at Elizabeth for a moment just to make sure before he turned back and yelled at me with a shaky voice, "This ain't one of the stupid little brats…g-get out of here Delta!"

Letting out another deafening guttural roar, I began to make my way towards the Splicers while revving up my Industrial-grade Drill and also lifting my right arm up so that its spinning bit was at in position to strike. After descending the flight of wooden stairs and then moving past the outward-facing, curved, metal-framed lounge bench that was in the middle of the walkway approximately five yards from the bottom of the stairs, I slowed my pace as I approached the three individuals.

While I continued forward until finally stopping before them directly in front of the Silver Fin Restaurant, the impact of my weighted diving boots on the square-tiled marble floor of the section of the second floor walkway that ran in front of the closed establishment was strong enough to cause several of the bathysphere model pamphlets in the display racks that were in the middle of the path to fall out the three long, horizontally stacked trays that were sandwiched between a matching pair of gray tombstone-like ends and then land unceremoniously in a pile around the bottom of the stands.

As I glared at the two Splicers from where I had stopped between the closest display rack and the bench, the two denizens finally left Elizabeth on the floor near the base of the Securis watertight door that was in the middle of the now slightly vandalized but still ornate crimson red with silver trimmed facade of the restaurant about two or three yards from the bottom of the short flight of three steps that spanned the entire length of the approximately twenty yard long exterior, showroom-facing wall of the Silver Fin where the main second floor walkway itself met the edge of the slightly more elevated platform beneath the once successful business.

The restaurant itself had been built in a recessed space that had been placed into one of the main internal load-bearing bulkheads that doubled as the interior, back wall of the giant rectangular space that had been turned into the showroom floor of Bathyspheres DeLuxe. In addition, we were currently in the upper left corner of the large showroom and it only had one other store, which was actually currently directly below us with the entrance to being on the first floor, and a small maintenance room to the right of the bottom of the nearby flight of stairs that went down to said first floor. The second-floor walkway, meanwhile, snaked through the air above the showroom as it navigated around the curved contours of the large, glass-sealed displays that were strategically placed around Bathysphere Deluxe to show off five of the dozen or so different available bathysphere models in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of the more luxurious selection of the indoor showrooms of large, high class car dealerships on the surface.

However, despite the massive size of the establishment, everything inside of it had been arranged in such a way that rendered trying to encircle or out maneuver an Alpha Series Big Daddy all but impossible due to the narrow paths that ran between the various stores and kiosks and the fact that the exit only led to an elevator to the other floors of the Housewares Department building and said elevator, which somehow miraculously still worked after being left to rot in the makeshift prison and was, thus, now a deathtrap just waiting to strike, was at the far end of a straight dead-end path. Thus, the two denizens before me were limited to either try to take on a Big Daddy in a frontal attack or to try to make a break for it down the flight of stairs to the left of the restaurant.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if both of the makeshift armor-clad Thuggish Splicers still possessed enough sanity to flee. However, being cut off from the rest of Rapture and, therefore, any significant sources of ADAM, appeared to have taken a toll on their minds because the pair began to charge towards me with their crude makeshift weapons held in the air above their right shoulder in a position to be ready to strike.

As they descended down the short flight of steps in front of the Silver Fin to try to overwhelm me as a team, I noticed Elizabeth watching the scene before her with the same look of morbid fascination that I had seen many times in the past few months. I had learned not to take it personally. After all, it was quite a barbaric yet mesmerizing sight to behold when a lone Big Daddy Protector faced off against a group of Splicers.

Due to the limited space around us because of the display rack to my left, the pair did not have as much room to maneuver as they could have had if they had tried to split off and flank me using the furniture rather than running nearly side-by-side directly towards me. In addition, it soon became clear that either neither one of the denizens possessed a Combat Plasmid or, at least, they did not have any Eve to use their genetic arsenal. Of course, there was also always the possibility that they simply forgot to use their Plasmids in the heat of the moment. However, regardless of whatever combination of the aforementioned possibilities was true, the result was the same.

As the Thuggish Splicer that was armed with the pipe wrench neared to within striking distance about a second or two later and prepared to launch himself into a full body swing, I took a step forward and then thrust the whirling bit of my industrial-grade Drill into his chest. The sound of ripping flesh and cracking bone filled the air as the baseball catcher-like armor that the denizen was wearing proved to be little match for the hardened metal bit of my weaponized mining tool as its bit easily pierced through the man's sternum and then out through his spinal cord.

The Splicer's green-tinted blood sprayed onto the surface of my recently repaired segmented eye as his broken, impaled frame began to slump forward towards me as he lost the use of the lower part of his body. Meanwhile, the other addict tried to use his partner's downfall to run around me on my left side so the rusted pipe-armed denizen could get to the vulnerable parts of my Life Support Systems that were mounted on my back. However, I simply cocked my left arm all the way to the right and then threw my full body into the swing as I turned to the left as fast as I could to hit home with the outermost side of my balled left fist in the center of the right side of the man's head. A low, wet crack filled the air as my gauntlet-encased left hand hit the Splicer went enough force to send him staggering off to the left until the disorientated individual crashed into the tray-side of the nearby brochure display rack with enough momentum to nearly topple it over.

Reaching up with my left hand, I ripped the limp frame of the first Splicer free from my Drill and then threw him onto the ground in front of me. The Splicer tried to crawl away from me with his hands only to finally met his end as I stomped onto his skull with the sole of my weighted diving boot entombed right foot. The man's skull was no match for the raw weight of my frame and even ADAM could not keep his genetically altered frame alive as his entire head was crushed completely flat beneath me.

Ignoring the brain and skull fragments that were now coating the bottom of my right boot, I then began to make my way towards the remaining Splicer while letting out a low, rumbling growl. Green-tinted blood was seeping out of the visible indent in the side of the denizen's head while he tried to get back on his feet from the brochure-covered heap at the base of the now dented and slightly moved display rack. However, the broken man's desperate actions and feral demeanor suddenly stopped all together as I stopped directly in front of the dazed addict and began to glare down at him with my glowing, segmented eye as I towered above him.

The Splicer returned my gaze as his mutated face became a disturbing, twisted mask of inhuman malice before he sneered and then remarked, "Happy New Year, Delta…I hope both you and that little British bitch of yours rot down here."

I let out a brief, flat grunt before then stomping down on the Splicer's head with the sole of my weighted diving boot-encased right foot with enough force to send the bottom portion of the display rack through both the walkway and the roof of the store that was directly beneath us. With the two assailants neutralized, I powered down my Drill while I also turned my entire frame back to my right until I was directly facing Elizabeth.

The showroom around us suddenly became uncomfortably quiet as the brunette silently looked up at me with an expression that instantly confirmed that, one way or another, she remembered what happened in the Toys Department. However, that glaring issue almost instantly evaporated moments later when Elizabeth suddenly seemed to snap out of it and addressed me with a tired tone that made her sound as if she was suffering from severe exhaustion, "Delta…Sally! She's...Atlas has her! Please help me save her!"

Elizabeth then actually lowered down onto the marble floor beneath us and began to act like she was going to beg me while she was on her knees. Genuinely stunned by how drastically things had changed from when I has last seen the young DeWitt, I lowered my brown leather and blue canvas diving suit clad left arm down towards her and then held the my gantlet-encased left hand towards her with the palm of my hand facing towards her in a kind of "Stop" gesture in an effort to try to communicate that she did not need to demean herself in such a manner. Elizabeth flashed me a brief look of confusion, causing her to also wince slightly as a result of the bruises on her robust yet still delicate feminine face.

Wanting to help not only the brave young woman but also the Little Sister that I had so foolishly left behind under the assumption that the wondering Bouncer and Rosie Mass Production Models would ensure that she would be safe inside the Department Store, I could not help but smile beneath my emotionless, copper façade as I slowly turned my left hand over and then extended it towards her. As I did, Elizabeth became bathed in a soft green glow as I manually willed the golden yellow glow of my segmented eye and two auxiliary lights that were beneath the porthole of my reinforced, copper Alpha Series Big Daddy diving helmet to change to the warm green color of my third "Mood".

It was almost comical how trapped I was entombed inside my armor. I had felt less isolated at the bottom of the ocean during my career as a Master Diver literally hours and miles from any other human being than I did as a Big Daddy escorting Eleanor through somewhere like High Street. Now, here before me, I had a young woman who had somehow returned to Rapture without seemingly anything except the proverbial clothes on her back and was literally about to beg for my help on her knees and all I could do to communicate back was use hand gestures, body language, and pretty lights.

Time seemed to slow down even further as Elizabeth looked first at me for a moment and then my outstretched hand for even longer. Understandably, there was a brief moment of hesitation as the young DeWitt then looked back at me with an expression that was a mixture of both cautious optimism and genuine shock that I had been so quick and willing to offer my aid. However, slowly, a faint smile appeared on her bruised face as her eyes once again lit up with determination.

As she lifted her delicate-looking right hand towards my much larger, gauntlet-encased gloved left hand, Elizabeth remarked, "Enemy of my enemy."

---

"Papa Delta?"

The Little Sister's edged voice riled me from my memories.

I let out a concerned, questioning grunt in response to the precious little angel's inquiry.

With her edged voice, my temporary charge asked with a slightly concerned tone, "Are you okay, Papa Delta?"

Shaking off my memories for the time being, I let out an affirmative grunt before then raising my gauntlet-encased left hand up along with my heavily modified, Industrial-grade Drill. I was an Alpha Series Big Daddy. My sole purpose was to protect Eleanor and the Little Sisters at all costs and by any means necessary. It was not my place to try to understand what I encountered while doing so beyond simply how to protect the Little Ones from whatever threats came as a result of said encounters.

Through our unique bond, my Master remarked with her beautiful accented voice as I began to move forward, 'I learned something very important that night thanks to you and Miss DeWitt, Johnny. Anyone can seek revenge and hold a grudge. However, it takes real strength to admit when you were wrong and do everything you can to try to fix your mistakes.'

Through the open bulkhead before me, I could see that the storage area beyond the airlock was still relatively intact for having been completely flooded for ten years. Despite the superficial damage caused by being left to the mercy of the harsh environment of the ocean floor, the core infrastructure seemed to be untouched by whatever had befallen Dionysus Park.

I breathed a mental sigh of relief as my fears that the structural integrity of the extensive complex, which rivaled even Fort Frolic in terms of size, had been too compromised to stay watertight for a long enough period of time for us to regroup with Sinclair and deal with whatever unforeseen obstacles we would probably encounter considering how Sofia was probably going to react to our trespassing through her private sanctuary. The pumping station in Siren Alley was now nothing more than a mass of scrap metal because of Sofia's retaliatory act of overloading the derelict equipment, so the only thing keeping Dionysus from flooding again was its internal bulkheads, pumps, and its aluminum frame.

Before me was the very short, five yard wide hallway that led to the main storage area that was approximately ten yards from the opening of the now open airlock. The once ornate walls were covered with a thick layer of muck and algae. To the left, just beyond the exit of the airlock, a thick collection of seaweed hung down from the ceiling of the hallway. Meanwhile, the floor was long since covered with a layer of mud that was likely several inches thick. Beyond the section of mud in front of the airlock, I saw a shallow, but large puddle at the far end of the hallway as the freshly pumped out area naturally still had collections of water in it.

I let out a soft, annoyed Alpha Series grunt as I saw how thick the mud had accumulated on the floor. I would have to be careful to avoid the larger piles of mud. With my heavy frame, there was a real danger that I would be hindered by the thick, wet deposits of mud if I accidentally stepped onto and then sank into them. Luckily, the patch of mud that was immediately beyond the airlock also had chunks of rock embedded into it and, thus, would not likely hinder me as I walked over it. Reaching towards the seaweed with my massive gloved left hand, I exited the airlock.

As I did, the built-in shortwave radio inside my helmet audibly powered to life and then the Southern accented voice of Sinclair filled the air as he informed me, "Dionysus Park was owned by Sofia Lamb, chief…sort of a private retreat for her social experiments. One night it flooded...killin' all her guests. Paper said it was 'cult-related'."

The savvy businessman paused for a moment before he finished, "Come on up to the station, let's rendezvous."

After he finished, my radio audibly powered off and I was once again in near complete silence. In the meantime, I had pulled the seaweed down from the ceiling and dropped it onto the floor so that my companions would not have to push their way through it. Meanwhile, along the right wall just beyond the airlock, there was a white, muck-covered abandoned "Y-shaped" hand cargo trolley that was empty. The rear of the trolley was facing out towards the center of the hallway and the handle leaning against the wall.

Around the trolley, there was a large patch of glowing red and bright orange bioluminescent, indigenous, deep sea plants that had grown while Dionysus Park had been filled with water. About a yard or so beyond the trolley, there was a large, waist-height once ornate vase that had a large hole along the side that vaguely reminded me of the "scary" face that would be carved into a pumpkin for Halloween. Upon closer examination of the muck-covered vase, I also saw that there were two very visible spots along the rim of the top of the vase that had been damaged.

Between the vase and the corner of the far end of the hallway, there was a pair of water pipes of equal size that were right beside each other where they had been mounted to the wall with brackets before they went into the wall itself near the bottom a few inches above the floor. Past the pipes and leaning against the wall of the far-right corner at the end of the hallway, were two rectangular, framed paintings with the outermost one being significantly larger than the one closest to the wall. The innermost painting's subject matter had long since become buried beneath a thick layer of muck. However, the outermost painting still had a visible white arm that was possibly partially clad in a ceremonial style white robe in the upper left corner. Having such little experience with The Arts as I did, I could only guess that it had once been a portrait of someone as the rest of the painting had become covered in muck and grime.

Meanwhile, along the left wall a few yards up from where the vase along the right wall was located, was another vase. However, unlike the other one, I could see that this one was bronze, and also that it was in almost perfect condition beyond some minor sections of muck covering it. As I approached the edge of the large puddle that actually extended beyond the hallway itself and about three or four yards into the large rectangular storage room beyond it, I noticed the stalk of seaweed floating on top of the water in the middle of it just as I trampled it as I made my way through the incredibly frigid, ankle-deep pool of seawater as quickly as my immense, Alpha Series Big Daddy frame would allow.

Upon exiting the puddle, I found myself directly in front of the short flight of stairs that consisted of three steps that led up to the slightly raised platform that was against the exterior-facing wall of the area of the storage room that was directly beyond the airlock. There were four thick, rectangular windows in the wall that were perfectly measured to span the length of the area of the approximately forty-yard-long section of the platform that was in front of me.

Through the windows, I could see the area of Rapture just outside Dionysus Park. There were two skeletal remains of long collapsed buildings that were mere yards beyond the exterior of the windows. In addition, beyond the rightmost building, there was what remained of a fairly large advertisement billboard. Finally, beyond the billboard, there were several faint outlines of multistory-tall stalks of seaweed that easily towered over Dionysus Park itself.

Coming out from the wall between the first and second and then third and fourth window, there were two large pipes that curved up to run into the ceiling. Near the bottom of the exterior-facing wall were four sets of three smaller pipes, with one set being beneath each window, that all curved downward and ran into the floor. Meanwhile, directly in front of me, placed near the wall, was a large white statue of a robed individual with his or her arms raised up in an almost religious manner.

The statue still easily towered over me like it had when I had been part of the maintenance staff despite the fact that I was now a Big Daddy. In fact, the white statue nearly touched the single large water pipe that ran from where it was mounted into the top of left wall that was approximately twenty yards from me and into the upper left corner of the dividing load-bearing bulkhead that split the storage room nearly in half in the direction of the entrance to Cohen's Collection at the far, opposite end of the room. The ceiling of the storage room itself was almost three stories tall and was ornately decorated with fancy, geometric styled tiles.

A sturdy wooden frame was around the statue to bear the weight of its immense frame to help protect it while it was not being displayed as part of an exhibit or collection. It had taken nearly a dozen staff members to move it from where it had been after the artist had requested the space to be cleared for his newest creation. That occasion had also been one of the first times that Eleanor had heard me utter a curse word because I had not realized that she had been within earshot of us.

In my defense, we had nearly dropped the statue when several of the weaker staff members suddenly lost their grip and I had to suddenly carry the same amount of weight that normally took several full grown men to bear for a few seconds until they had moved back into position. Considering that nearly all of the maintenance staff had become spliced up by that point and I was still just a plain human being, and an old man at that, but they all still struggled to keep up with me at times, it was almost comical that I usually found myself having to carry more than my fair share of the manual labor.

Around the base of the statue and even in a few spots along the support frame, there were several more deep sea plants that had grown while the storage room had been flooded. Leaning against the left side of the statue were two of the typical tall and thin rectangular crates that we used to store paintings. The statue itself had been sandwiched between two of the primary water pumps that were found throughout Dionysus Park.

The pumps, which were about an arm's length wide, about a story tall, and vaguely crescent shaped, used ten hydraulic pistons, with two large ones in the front and two sets of four smaller ones on the sides, to pump the water continuously out of The Park. The deep, rich blue painted metal casings of the pumps were riveted on in a perfectly straight line along the left and right side of the curved front and the brass seals and ornate decorations still shined with a dull glow manner thanks to the natural light coming in through the windows. Currently, the pumps were doing their job as they clunked away thanks to the backup emergency power generators that must have been triggered when the water had been pumped out of Dionysus Park.

In an unceremonious heap on the floor of the platform between me and the statue, were the shattered remains of another vase. Turning to my left, in the far left corner of the platform and placed nearly completely against the left wall, I saw a smaller version of the massive statue that had been in front of me moments prior that was surrounded by two pieces of large, pink coral as it was buried to its knees in a thick pile of mud. Directly next to it was another, slightly shorter statue that was completely covered by a sheet and surrounded by a wooden frame similar to the one around the largest statue.

Continuing towards the left corner, the stairs curved ninety degrees as the platform continued for approximately ten yards into the corner that was directly to the left of the exit to the hallway that led to the airlock. Meanwhile, near the back wall, a still functioning Vita-Chamber had been placed just past the sheet-covered statue. Finally, squeezed into the small gap between the left of side of the Vita-Chamber and the wall were two loose rectangular, framed paintings, with the rightmost being much smaller, and one of the tall, thin storage crates.

Several red and orange glowing deep sea plants were on the floor in front of the crate. In addition, several stalks of seaweed hung down from the ceiling as thy draped along the wall between the corner and the bulkhead of the exit of the hallway that led to the airlock. Considering that this was the lowest point in Dionysus Park, it would only have been natural for such a large amount of silt, debris, and mud to accumulate in the far back corner of the storage room after the proverbial dust had settled when the massive complex had been flooded.

Mounted into the wall behind the Vita-Chamber were multiple water pipes of what appeared to be varying size. I could make out at least five pipes, however, due to how dark that corner of the room was, I could not be certain of how many of them there actually were. Turning back to my right, I saw that there was a puddle in front of the leftmost pump with two small fish nearby that were valiantly launching themselves into the air as they refused to accept their fate.

Turning completely to my right, I saw the rest of the storage room and the entrance to Cohen's Collection at the far end. Mounted to the wall along the section of the right wall between me and the load-bearing bulkhead that cut the storage room in half, I saw a somehow still functional Gene Bank. Meanwhile, mounted into the middle of the top of the bulkhead was the ornate sign of Dionysus Park.

The top of the sign was comprised of multiple leaves jutting out in an arc. Directly below the leaves, there was a large rectangular section that had three parallel lines running from the left to the right as the word "Dionysus" was painted along the entire length of the rectangle section with each letter being capitalized. Beneath that, there was another, shorter rectangular section with the word "Park" painted along its length with the letters being more spaced out but each one still being capitalized. Finally, beneath that was one last rectangular section however it was pointed straight down. Two metal supporting bars had been welded to it after the bottom part had been snapped off by accident when one of the maintenance staff members had mistakenly believed that said section would bear the full weight of a large commercial ladder when he had attempted to polish it.

The sign itself had nearly fallen from its mounts with only the upper right corner somehow still bearing the weight of the entire sign. I felt a brief wave of disappointment that it had not fallen to the ground. I had always been annoyed by the sign that, in my opinion, was tacky considering that this was just the maintenance entrance and, thus, been not need to have such things. However, I was able to take comfort in the fact that the bottom of the sign was now covered in barnacles.

Directly beneath the sign on the floor was another puddle of water that was being fed by a steady steam that was coming from a massive crack in the ceiling. There was another fish near the puddle that, like the other two, was valiantly refusing to give into its fate by launching itself fairly high into the air.

Admiring their fighting spirit, I used my Telekinesis Plasmid to lift the three fish into the air, past my companions, and then gently down onto the floor of the airlock. As the now understandably confused and frightened fish began to launch themselves into the air once more, I smiled slightly as I used my Telekinesis to move the airlock's lever into the "Flood" position. The device's interior-facing watertight bulkhead closed before it audibly began to fill with water once again. Moments later, the muffed sound of the exterior-facing door opening could be heard, signaling the release of the fish as they were free to swim off into the ocean.

From where she was riding on her throne on my back, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister clapped briefly and then remarked, "Yay! Papa Delta saved the poor fishies."

Subject Alpha grunted, "Always figured you were a 'Catch and Release' kind of guy, sir."

The Emily-controlled Little Sister did not say anything but she did flash me a brief but very warm and pleasant smile in response.

Turning back to face in the direction of Cohen's Collection, I began to make my way towards the station. Just beyond the bulkhead, a thick pipe was mounted into the floor as it snaked out of where it was mounted to the right wall. Beyond that, between the bulkhead and the far exit to the storage room, were two more pumps that were directly across from each other with one against the left wall and one against the right wall. Against the left pump were two more tall and thin storage crates with the outermost one being much smaller than the second.

The far open bulkhead that served as the exit to the storage room was bathed in an eerie red light around the fairly wide rectangular door frame from a source that I actually could not determine. Meanwhile, there was a shallow river running in front of it that was fed by a waterfall that was flowing down the left side of the wall from a massive crack in the uncomfortably sagging ceiling of this side of the room. As I had predicted moments prior, the tiled surface of the floor on this side of the storage room was actually still visible because the majority of the mud and debris had settled in the opposite, far corner and, thus, left this side far more unscathed. However, the once bright white tiles were still now covered in a layer of algae and muck.

As I neared the exit to the storage room, the security gate that led to the public section of "Cohen's Collection-Fine Art" approximately fifteen yards from the bulkhead suddenly slammed shut with a thunderous metallic bang. Alarm bells screamed inside my mind and I let out a threatening growl while I instinctively reached behind me with my left hand to hold onto my temporary ward just as the shadow of a disheveled woman clad in what looked like a tattered upper class, formal dress appeared as she ran alarming close behind me. I turned my entire frame to the right as I swung my Drill in a wide arc only to hit nothing but the cloud of red particles as the Houdini Splicer teleported out of my weaponized mining tool's grasp.

What would have happened to the addict was clear when my the right side of my Drill's bit smashed through the tall, thin storage crate that had been placed against the nearby section of the right wall as I missed the Splicer by mere fractions of a second. Letting out an annoyed grunt, I ripped my tool free of the crate, causing its contents to unceremoniously spill out onto the floor.

As I did, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister remarked with a humorous tone, "Tag…I guess we're it, Father."

I let out a series of laugh like grunts with my modified Alpha Series voice in response as I began to methodically chase after the Houdini Splicer.

The area around Cohen's Collection was comprised of two sections. The first one was the main, public part was a rectangular-shaped display area and the second was an "L-shaped" auxiliary storage running along the outside of the first one. There were security gates at the entrances to the storage area but, for Fire Safety reasons, the gates were setup in a way that ensured that one of them was always up. There had been, of course, a guard posted at whatever gate was up back before Dionysus Park had been flooded to ensure that only staff memebers could access the auxiliary area. However, as the guards were typically severely underpaid and overworked, a bribe usually worked to get past him or her.

Due to the fact that the gate in front of me was closed, I knew that the gate that had most likely raised up was the one at the opposite end of the "L". The Teleportation Plasmid had, for obvious reasons, been extremely controversial basically from the very beginning and it was one of the very few commercially available ADAM-products that Andrew Ryan had personally objected to during its initial trial run. The uproar was to the point that the original version had never even been allowed to leave the labs of Fontaine Futuristics.

The watered-down version that eventually became commercially available was fairly limited in its usefulness as it had a severely reduced effective range and consumed EVE like a coal furnace. In addition, the commercial version of the Plasmid was incapable of teleporting other people that the individual might be toughing or any large objects, such as weapons, along with the user. Its limited usefulness meant that users had to also wield elemental-based Combat Plasmids in order to make it more than an amusing parlor trick, especially when it came to fighting against a Big Daddy.

Upon existing the storage area, I saw that there were two wooden frame-surrounded statues against the left wall with the closest one being another humanoid-shaped sculpture that was covered with a sheet and the other one being what I could only describe as a strange collection of crystals that had been arranged to form something vaguely resembling a tower. The auxiliary area was only about a story tall and was only approximately ten yards wide so the statues were both fairly small.

Directly in front of me was the closed security gate that had an ornate, skeletal frame that was comprised of a sun in the very center, two waves on the left and right sides, and eight fish facing inward at a slightly upward angle above the waves with four above each individual wave. The gate itself was placed in a standard bulkhead that a Securis watertight door would normally be placed in but, in this case, the purpose had been to keep people out instead of floodwater.

On the ground laying against the wall directly to the right of the gate was the fallen, barnacle-covered sign of Cohen's Collection. The sign resembled the typical cartoon drawing of a shooting star except the "star" was a coiled mass that resembled a curled up white snake. Meanwhile, the words had been painted on with white lettering.

Turning to my right, I faced in the direction of the far end of the path. There was a second closed gate along the left wall about five yards from the first one. Past the second gate and placed against the wall, there was another statue that was a smaller version of the large robed figure statue in the previous storage area. Beyond the statue was another abandoned "Y-shaped" cargo trolley with the handle facing towards the center of the path. Finally, near the left corner of the open bulkhead that served as the end of the fifty yard long path, were two tall and thin storage crates with the one closest to me being smaller than the other one.

Along the right wall nearby were two identical, intact white stone stands that vaguely resembled the old bird baths from the Surface. Beyond the stands was a Art Deco-style statue that had been placed on its back on top of a wooden pallet with its upward facing arms pointed towards the stone stands. At the feet of the statue, two parallel muck-covered water pipes were mounted into the wall. Directly beyond the pipes was a single tall and thin storage crate that was facing towards the center of the path. From my vantage point, I could also make out that there were two wall-facing crates that had been placed in the right corner of the open bulkhead at the end of the path. Finally, there were three functioning emergency security lights that had been mounted near the floor along the length of the wall approximately fifteen yards apart.

Along the length of both the left and right walls were seashell-embedded piles of mud though they only appeared to be about an inch or two deep. However, the majority of the tiled floor was still visible along the center of the path. Meanwhile, various outcroppings of red and orange bioluminescent deep sea plants were dotted along the deposits of mud.

With both my gauntlet encased, gloved left hand as it was surrounded by arcs of genetic electricity and my heavily modified Industrial-grade Drill raised up at the ready, I began to make my way to the far end of the path. As I neared the open bulkhead, the Houdini Splicer briefly appeared on the opposite side as she ran in the direction of the open gate at the end of the "L", though only her footfalls were visible in the large pool of water that covered the entire floor of the small area that comprised the ninety degree turn in the path.

Somewhat eerily, the emergency lights in the area flickered as her footfalls appeared, which coincided with her brief cackle of demented laughter. Ignoring the contents of the small area, I turned to my left and continued to chase after the Splicer. As I did, I trampled the two wooden pallets that had been floating in the middle of the pool of frigid seawater beneath my massive frame.

Upon turning the corner, saw the forty-yard-long section of the remainder of the auxiliary storage area. Just beyond the open bulkhead that led into the section along the left wall was a muck-covered wooden, three drawer filing cabinet and matching desk that still had a black rolling chair in front of it. Meanwhile, almost directly across from them along the right wall was a pair of filing cabinets that had paper-bound stacks of now ruined documents on top of them.

Continuing along the right wall past the filing cabinets, past a collection of seaweed that was hanging from the barnacle-encrusted ceiling, was a small side storage space about five yards from where I was in the open bulkhead. The contents of the minor space were unremarkable with the majority of it being several stacked crates and paper-bound documents. However, strangely, a single bright green glass bottle of Moonbeam Absinthe was visible where it had apparently been abandoned on top of one of the crates.

Upon noticing the bottle, I vaguely recalled that Sander Cohen was infamous for favoring the alcoholic drink and, for a brief instant, wondered if the madman himself had been the individual that had left that particular bottle on the crate inside the side storage area. Due to the circumstances at hand, however, I did not dwell on the thought for more than a second or two as I continued forward.

There was a river of water in the middle of the floor that was being fed by a stream that was flowing down the short flight of stairs that led up to the open security gate near the far back left corner. Against the far back wall, there was a somehow still functional Circus of Values Vending Machine. Finally, directly across from the open gate, there was one last closed security gate that was blocking access to another area that, if I recalled correctly, had a flight of stairs that went up to the next floor of Dionysus Park.

However, there was nothing any real interest up that particular flight of stairs as it merely led to more storage areas that all served as basically one gigantic dead end because they were not connected to the other areas on the next floor. The individuals that rented out the storage rooms beyond the flight of stairs had been notoriously paranoid about the safety of their art pieces, and, thus, a four-digit combination lock had been installed in an attempt to keep the gate securely closed.

As I passed through the open bulkhead, the Houdini Splicer appeared once again in a cloud of particles as she visibly traveled through the open security gate and into the public area of Cohen's Collection. I chased after the deranged addict and quickly reached the short flight of stairs. Upon turning to my left to face the open gate, I saw the remains of what had once been one of the most popular exhibits in Dionysus Park.

The vaguely rectangular-shaped room before me was eerily silent other than the sound of the waterfall that was just beyond the edge of the concrete platform that was directly above the area that was immediately beyond the open security gate. A large section of said platform had been haphazardly repaired with two side-by-side sections that consisted of wooden pallets that had been crudely nailed together. The entire floor of the approximately fifty-yard-long and seventy-yard-wide, four-story tall room seemed to be covered in a shallow layer of rock-embedded mud. Meanwhile, there were outcroppings of bioluminescent deep sea plants and coral all around the room.

The once unimaginably expensive paintings and statues were in absolute disarray in a manner that was either the result of the flooding of the section of Rapture or perhaps a complete layout change by staff members at Cohen's request after some kind of incident or perhaps even some horrific accident as they were scattered chaotically around the room. Upon closer examination, I saw that almost all of them were visibly damaged to varying degrees.

There were two sections of several large storage crates to the left and right of the area just beyond the open security gate that created a crude path towards the open center of the room. Chasing after the Splicer, I used said path to move towards the middle of the bottom floor of the exhibit. As I did, I noted the large segmented window that was in the middle of the far back, exterior-facing wall that allowed the area to be bathed in a soft glow of natural light.

After I had taken a few steps beyond the gate, a dull metallic thud filled the air mere seconds before a ruptured metal fuel cylinder rolled out from an opening in the left "wall" of the path created by the storage crates. The red container continued to roll across the floor until it stopped in the middle of the path near the center of the open space that was just past the waterfall before me. Ignoring the brief sensation of being showered in frigid seawater as I moved through the deluge of water, I closed in on the center of the room.

I only briefly slowed down as I turned to see that the open space in the crate wall was empty. The empty metal container offered almost no resistance as I crushed the majority of it flat beneath the sole of my weighted diving boot-entombed left foot as I continued forward. I finally stopped after taking two more steps as I reached the center of the open space in the middle of the painting and statue-filled bottom floor of the exhibit. Wheeling around in a circle, I attempted to locate the Houdini Splicer.

About the time that I was facing in the direction of the closed security gate that was along the true right wall of the large room and led to the path that eventually allowed access to the staircase to the upper floor of the exhibit, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister called out to the denizen as she taunted with her British accented voice, "Come on! Stop being all hot air and no knickers!"

Being riled up by what was one of the most British-style insults that I had ever heard, the Splicer screamed behind me. I wheeled around just in time to sidestep a barrage of genetic fireballs. Meanwhile, I saw the Houdini Splicer where she had teleported to stand on top of the wooden frame-surrounded, covered statute that had been directly behind me only moments prior.

Before the denizen could teleport once again, I willed a blast of genetic electricity from the ported digits of my gloved left hand while I let out an Alpha Series Big Daddy growl. The sound of cracking bone filled the air as the woman howled in agony while her body was engulfed by bright blue electrical arcs. While the addict was still paralyzed, I revved up my highly modified Drill, lowered my left shoulder, and then charged forward towards the statue as fast as my heavily armored and genetically modified frame could allow.

The denizen fell from the statue as the impact was easily enough to shatter the wooden frame and the statue itself into multiple pieces. As she fell, I caught the Splicer by her right ankle with enough force for the underlying section of bone to be crushed into powered as my massive left hand clamped down just before I then wheeled around to swing the woman like a baseball bat. The denizen never even had enough time to utter a cry of confusion or shock before the back of her neck impacted the center of the nearby statue that was a miniature version of the massive robed individual from the storage area around the airlock.

The sound of cracking vertebrae filled the air as the force of the impact had nearly been enough to topple the statue over backwards in the direction of the far exterior-facing wall of the exhibit. Knocking that she was still alive but now likely paralyzed from the neck down, I dropped the Splicer into an unceremonious heap on the floor at the base of the statue and then let out a deafening, guttural roar that shook the entire room. The denizen could only offer a soft whimper in response before I thrust the razor sharp tip of my Drill's whirling bit into her skull.

There was a brief moment of resistance before my weaponized mining tool powered its way through the Houdini Splicer's cranial cavity and then into the mud-covered floor beneath her. With one final loud crunching sound as the bit was suddenly able to spin with much less required effort, the former predator's body went limp and her whimpering cries were silenced. After ripping my tool free, I powered down my Drill and then took a step back from the broken corpse at my feet.

However, the fresh coating of a mixture of green-tinted blood and skull fragments had not even dried along my heavily built, Alpha Series Big Daddy Protector frame before the public announcement system of Dionysus Park audibly powered to life.

The unnervingly calm, Britsh accented voice of Sofia Lamb filled the air of the entire section of Rapture as the clinical psychologist announced, "Attention: Subject Delta had drained and infiltrated Dionysus Park. His death is our rebirth...the life of the People's Daughter is in your hands!"

As the PA System downed down, Eleanor commented, "Oh please, Mother. You are wasting your breath. Let's be honest, in this place, almost all of them are going to be going after the loot…not trying to go after the mad fever dream that you have been selling them for the past few years."

My beloved, bonded partner paused for a moment and then finished, "Well, at least until your last few remaining kill squads finally show up anyway."

There was another brief pause before Eleanor asked with a confused tone, "Hey, where did you get the rose, Emily?"

Now equally as confused, I turned to face back in the direction of the security gate that I had entered the exhibit through. There, a few feet away, I saw Emily smelling a bright red rose that was clearly one of the ones that you could buy in a store for an occasion such as Valentine's Day from where she was on her throne on Alpha's back.

From where she was idly examining one of the more intact statues, Jennifer explained with her muffled voice, "I saw a present on the other side of that locked room back there. The ceiling is caved in but the gift was still in one piece on the ground so I teleported through the gate to get it. The tag said that it was for 'The yellow-eyed girl' so I figured that I should give it to one of us."

Eleanor remarked with a puzzled tone, "Yellow-eyed...girl...?"

However, then my daughter let out a genuine gasp of shock before she then said, "Oh...oh my...the boy that had a cute crush on..."

Emily interrupted as she looked at the rose with a look of sorrow in her glowing eyes, "Yes...Billy."

Subject Alpha raised his left hand back behind him and then began to gently stroke the beautiful, black dress-clad little girl's back as Emily finished as she hugged the rose close to her chest, "He was such a sweet, kind boy...ah this city was nothing but a cesspool of cruelty, mi amore...but he really was a true friend to us."

Her bonded Protector grunted in response, "I'm sorry, Emily."

His eternally bonded companion smiled sadly before stating, "No...this city's sins have never been your fault. Just promise me that..."

Alpha grunted before she could finish, "I'll always be right here at your side, Emily."

The Mass Production Model Little Sister that Emily was controlling asked with an alarmed, upset tone, "Big Sister Emily? What's wrong? Why are you crying?! Was it the rose? Bad rose! Go away bad rose or I'll scream for Mister Bubbles!"

Putting up a strong front, the grown Alpha Series Gatherer smiled as she tossed the rose down onto the ground before she said with a forced, happy tone, "Nothing is wrong, Little One. Calm down, Big Sister Emily is okay."

Wanting to distance my group from the rose as quickly as possible, I turned and then made my way towards the previously closed security gate that allowed access to the upper floor of Cohen's Collection. The room beyond the public section of the exhibit was yet another storage room. However, this one was significantly smaller as only a few empty shelves made up the majority of the fifteen-yard-wide by thirty-yard-long rectangular-shaped room. Most of the shelves had collapsed and the room itself was mostly covered in a layer of barnacle and deep sea plant growth while a thick layer of mud covered every square inch of the floor.

Making my way to the far open bulkhead, I exited the room and then began to ascend the barnacle and mud-covered stairs that led up to the next floor. Just before I turned ninety degrees to continue up the right about halfway up the flight of stairs, I briefly glanced out the narrow, segmented, rectangular window and saw the massive stalks of seaweed and drainage pipes that were just beyond the exterior of Dionysus Park.

Upon turning, I saw that the walls surrounding the remaining section the flight of stairs, as well as the visible sections of the hallway beyond the top of them, were absolutely covered with barnacles that were incredibly massive with some of the individual exterior casings of the crustaceans being as big around as my gantlet-encased left hand.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I turned to the right to face in the direction of the exit to the second story platform that was near the far-left corner of the short hallway. However, I paused briefly as I saw that the wooden floor was bowed up along the left side of the middle of the hallway. Moving to hug the right wall, I carefully made my way past the weakened section of the floor before then continuing forward like normal after I had passed it.

Noting the Bot Shutdown Panel that was mounted into the center of the far back wall as I approached it, I then turned to my left and stepped out onto the second story platform of Cohen's Collection after having to pass through yet another waterfall coming from the cracked ceiling of the exhibit just beyond the open bulkhead of the exit of the hallway. The platform itself was only about five yards wide and twenty yards long. It had primarily just been meant to give visitors a better view of the taller statues and paintings and, thus, did not have any display pieces along its length.

In the left wall about a yard or so beyond the entrance to the platform was the ornate Securis watertight door of the main entrance and exit of Cohen's Collection. I made my way towards it and just begun to finally leave the mad artist's exhibit when I halted literally in mid-step. I questioned my sanity for a brief, terrifying moment as I could have sworn that I had heard soft music suddenly coming from somewhere in the area behind me.

However, it was not the music that had brought upon my brief moment of self-doubt. It was the disturbingly familiar, unmistakable sound of Sander Cohen's maniacal, deranged laughter that momentarily filled the air of his art exhibit after the music ended. Choosing to live in denial of what I had just heard, I left Cohen's Collection behind and never looked back.

Upon exiting the exhibit, I found myself in the short hallway between the watertight bulkhead and the room that led to the flight of stairs that allowed access to the next floor of Dionysus Park. The five-yard-long by five-yard-wide hallway was, naturally, much cleaner than what I had seen in the lower levels with the only piles of accumulated mud being directly along the left and right wall. The majority of the wooden floor was perfectly visible as a result but the walls themselves were still covered with patches of barnacles. However, the large metal bear statue on top of the "Y-shaped" cargo trolley along the left wall and the Little Sister Vent directly across form it along the right wall were both in almost perfect condition.

Making my way to the open bulkhead at the far end of the hallway, I began to hear the distinct sound of a Security Camera. Sure enough, as I reached the bulkhead, I began to see the telltale red spotlight as the camera scanned the exit of the hallway and the "L-shaped" raised platform against the far back wall beyond it. The platform led to the path that eventually connected with the large room that contained the Ferris Wheel.

Hugging the right wall to avoid the spotlight as I exited the hallway, I made my way to stand directly below the mounted Security Camera. Before the device could detect us, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into its teardrop-shaped frame. Alpha made his way through the open bulkhead and fired a Hack Rivet into the disabled camera before it could recover from my Plasmid. The ring of light along its circular mount changed to let off a calm, green color after my brother's improvised gadget hit home on the metal casing of the camera. Moments later, when the device powered back to life, the spotlight's normal red color had changed to the same shade of green.

Moving forward, I ascended the short flight of steps up to the platform and then turned ninety degrees to my right to make my way along the muck-covered white tiled floor of the platform towards the bottom of the final flight of stairs that up to the next floor where the majority of Dionysus Park was located. The stairs were about five yards away and, thus, I quickly reached them and then ascended up to the first ninety-degree turn.

Just before turning to my left to begin to ascend the next section of stairs, I briefly glanced out the exterior wall-mounted window that afforded a view of the heavily decayed cityscape of Rapture beyond its dirty surface. After turning, I began to ascend to the last ninety-degree turn. There was matching window at the top of the stairs, but I could not see out through it due to the large mass of seaweed that hung down in front of it from the ceiling.

After one final left turn, I found myself standing before the last flight of stairs that led up to the main level of Dionysus Park. As I began to ascend towards the open bulkhead at the top of the flight of steps, I began to hear various voices coming from the direction of the exhibit area that was connected to the room that contained the Ferris Wheel. With my gauntlet-encased left hand and Industrial-grade Drill up at the ready, I passed through the open bulkhead at the top of the flight of stairs and then turned to my right to face the main section of the small storage room of the art exhibit.

There was an El Ammo Bandito Vending Machine in the left corner against the far wall approximately forty yards away. Meanwhile, a still functional Vita-Chamber was in the right corner of the far wall. Almost impeding my way into the rest of the room were two wooden pallets that were stacked on top of each other where they had been abandoned on top of a "Y-shaped" cargo trolley with the handle facing directly away from me at a forty five degree angle in the direction of the right corner of the far wall. Nearby, against the left wall, was a set of muck-covered shelves and three storage crates that appeared to have fallen from the shelves when Dionysus Park had been flooded.

As I began to try to squeeze past the wooden pallets, a female Splicer clad in the remains of a torn, green formal dress and wielding a crudely modified Thompson Submachine Gun stepped backwards through the open bulkhead exit near the far-left corner of the storage room. However, I never even had time to do anything before the high-pitched report of Subject Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun rang out through the air of the of the storage room.

The veteran Protector's marksmanship was on display once again as the round hit its mark in the base of the once upper-class denizen's skull. Dropping her weapon, the dead-as-a-doornail Leadhead Splicer collapsed into a heap on the floor just in front of the open bulkhead. Meanwhile, from inside the exhibit, I heard one female and two male voices as the fallen denizen's companions cried out in alarm and confusion.

After making my way past the wooden pallets, I began to move towards the exit of the storage room. As I neared the open bulkhead, the voices inside the room beyond it suddenly ceased as they were replaced by a loud series of organic but also mechanical-sounding laughs. Jennifer's sadistic laughter continued to fill the air as I finally reached the exit of the storage room and then turned to my left to enter the area of the art collection beyond.

Upon entering the fifty-yard-wide by seventy-yard-long, vaguely rectangular-shaped room, I saw that it too was in just as much of a state of disarray as Cohen's Collection had been. Nearly all of the statues were either toppled over or were severely damaged. In fact, only two of the six statues running along the left and right wall with three per wall were actually still upright and in semi-decent shape. The first one was directly across from me along the left wall and the other intact statue was the second one along the right wall. A massive crack in the ceiling near the intact statue along the left wall was causing a waterfall to rain down onto the cargo trolley that had been abandoned at the base of the first statue. To the left of the trolley were two wooden pallets that were in a haphazard stack in the corner by the statue and appeared to have moved by the water when the room had been flooded.

The room itself was bathed in a bright glow thanks to the still eye-catching, pyramid-shaped skylight in the middle of the ceiling of the two-story tall room. Various skyscraper-style buildings could be seen towering above Dionysus Park through the strutted exterior of the skylight. In addition, schools of fish swam lazily overhead, casting animated shadows in the room beneath them as they did. The weight of the skylight was being supported by six reinforced concrete columns that were strategically placed in a box shape in the center of the room at each load-bearing point along the perimeter of the heavy glass structure.

Directly in front of me, there was a tall, thin storage crate that was blocking my view of the very center of the room. Upon making my way around it, I found Jennifer ripping her tungsten-tipped weaponized needle out of the neck of a middle-aged, torn navy blue business suit-clad male Splicer that was lying face down in an ankle-deep pool of water in front of the second intact statue. The hunched over manner in which the armored Elite Big Sister was on top of the deceased man reminded me of how I would imagine a lioness would look after the feline had pounced on her prey in the grasslands of Africa.

Meanwhile, I saw the body of another upper-class woman in a tattered blue formal dress leaning against the now nonoperational, scorched frame of the toppled El Ammo Bandito Vending Machine that was near the middle of the left wall. The dead Splicer's head was hanging down at an almost nauseating angle as her neck appeared to have been snapped in a brutal manner. The broken body of the last denizen, a noticeably younger man in dirty working class attire, was on the floor in a bloodied heap near the overturned table that was leaning against the base of the far middle support column of the skylight.

Not being particularly interested in what was inside of it, I only briefly glanced at the open bulkhead entrance to a second storage area that was in the far right corner of the room before I began to make my way to the ornate Securis door at the opposite end of the art collection. Just beyond the door would be the vast, open space room that contained the Ferris Wheel. That room acted as a kind of hub for the three paths that branched off into the various sections of Dionysus Park. Two of the three paths lead to the Atlantic Express Station but one was far more direct than the other.

However, I had only taken a few steps forward before my entire frame was flooded with the same peculiar feeling that had overtaken it when I was seeing the vision of Eleanor in the Little Sister Orphanage in Siren Alley. Confused, I paused and then began to turn my entire, heavily armored frame to the left and right to try to figure out what was happening.

Moments later, I got my answer as my former self appeared along with a very young Eleanor as we were walking through the exhibit in the direction of Cohen's Collection downstairs. In my heavily calloused right hand, I was carrying my large, worn metal toolbox that contained all of my meticulously organized tools. I was wearing my lightweight maintenance staff uniform with a matching baseball-style cap since I did not need to use a diving suit for the small task that I was currently assigned.

Meanwhile, Eleanor was happily walking next to me asking me questions and just generally enjoying not having to be stuck in a room with her mother all day. In her once pristine but now lightly calloused hands, she was carrying her much smaller toolbox that was essentially a miniature version of my own. I had bought it for her after she had kept insisting on helping me and said that she wanted one for herself that was just like mine. It was a beginner's set of tools, but it was a very good set that had a respectably wide variety of tools considering its size. Her silky brown hair had become disheveled and, as a result, her short bangs were hanging over her vibrant blue eyes. Meanwhile, her knee-length, solid white dress was now covered in dirt and even had a small tear along its hem.

As I continued to watch the shadow of the past as if I was in some kind of trance, my former self was explaining with my gruff voice, "…and that's what the forests of the Pacific Northwest look like in the middle of Winter."

The young Lamb gasped as she was seemingly awe-struck by my little story. After we had paused when one of the guests recognized me thanks to my unwanted fame as one of the city's newest folk heroes, we continued on towards Cohen's Collection.

Then, just as quickly as the strange sensation had overtaken my frame, it dissipated along with the sight of the shadows of who both Eleanor and I had once been before the city had taken more from us than anyone other than a Protector or Gatherer could ever possibly imagine or comprehend.

Despite my confusion over why I was now seeing "ghosts" that were strangely specifically about Eleanor, I could not help but feel a strange sense of nostalgia at the sight. I had always looked forward to getting to spend the day with my new, special companion during those days. Sofia had come to resent letting me stay in Dionysus Park as time had went on due to how much time Eleanor was spending with me and how much it was beginning to change her daughter. However, Eleanor was too stubborn and willful to stop following me around even when the elder Lamb had started to pressure both of us to stop spending so much time together.

Sofia was my boss and being allowed to stay in her private property protected me from the increasingly suspicious Andrew Ryan who was seemingly convinced that I was a spy. I actually found it somewhat comical because, while I had technically been a government agent in a very loose sense, my superiors had likely labelled me as either missing or dead and, thus, any possible message that I could have managed to send The Surface would have never reached anyone of high enough authority for it to have been worth the risk of doing something that rash. Thus, it was almost amusing that Ryan continued to waste so much time and resources to monitor me.

Sofia was only using me in her political war against Ryan as she used his own philosophies against him to protect me from his grasp. Any kindness the manipulative psychologist showed me was fake to an almost annoying degree and I only just barely managed to remain polite and civil as she paraded me around to her guests whenever she got the chance. However, I still wanted to repay her for giving me shelter so I simply continued to work as one of her maintenance staff members.

Meanwhile, everyone else that I came into contact with was not interested in what I had to say beyond idle conversations. After becoming something of a celebrity, they all simply became interested in my fame and either wanted a piece of it for themselves or resented me for it. Eleanor was the only person that was genuinely wanted to hear what I had to say and the only one whose kindness was real. Moreover, the young Lamb was just fun to be around due to her rebellious nature, genius-level intellect, crude quick-witted humor, and curiosity about the world around her. In my mind at least, I did not believe that anyone could really blame me for enjoying the young girl's company if they had been in my place.

From behind me, Alpha grunted, "Something wrong, sir?"

Before I could reply, Eleanor informed us, "There appears to have been an unforeseen consequence of using my ADAM to fuel Father's body and stave off the Fail Safe of our bond. It seems that my 'Genetic Memories' were transferred to him through my ADAM."

Catching onto what my grown Little Sister was referring to, I asked with my modified Alpha Series voice, "So that was why I saw that scene back in the orphanage in Siren Alley?"

My bonded Gatherer replied with the tiniest trace of guilt in her otherwise enchanting voice, "I apologize, Johnny."

I smiled and then reassured her, "Don't worry about it, kid. It might actually be more useful than you think."

Eleanor was clearly confused when she asked in response, "I don't understand, Father."

My time from before I was twisted by Rapture filled my mind as I explained, "I ain't a clinical psychologist like your Mother, El. However, Torrey and I were involved in enough Search and Rescue operations for me to know that people can't remember everything in the moment. However, 'Genetic Memories' basically 'record' everything."

My incredibly intuitive bonded partner replied almost instantly, "Ah, I see. You think there might be something in my memories that neither one of us noticed at the time?"

Before I could reply, Eleanor remarked with a tone that I could only describe as a young child in awe of someone that she idolized, "That's…brilliant, Johnny."

I casually dismissed her praise with a slight wave with my gauntlet-encased left hand while I let out a flat, dismissive grunt.

Meanwhile, Emily asked her bonded Protector, "Can Monsieur Topside kill a ghost, my love?"

My heavily armed and armored brother grunted in response, "He killed a goddess once…if anyone could find a way to kill a ghost, it would be The Old Man."

I began to move towards the watertight security door that led to area around the Ferris Wheel. However, as I was within five yards of the exit, a loud, furious mechanical yet also organic-sounding cry erupted from the room beyond the door.

At nearly the same time, I heard a middle-aged man that sounded completely normal as if he had never even touched ADAM or Spliced in his life, yell back at the enraged Big Sister, "...No! Get back! She's my little girl!"

Two or three small caliber gunshots that sounded like they were coming from a .38 revolver or handgun rang out just after the man had finished his last statement. With my gauntlet-encased left hand and my heavily-modified Drill at the ready, I burst through the ornate security door ready to confront the situation beyond it. However, upon entering the area around the Ferris Wheel, I was met by the sight of a nearly silent room without a soul in sight.

Confused, I began to move forward towards the sagging Ferris Wheel directly before me while grunting, "Jen, left...Alpha, right."

As we began to fan out to search the room, above the sound of the Ferris Wheel beginning to play the song, "Hush, Hush, Hush, Here Comes the Bogeyman", Eleanor commented, "I hope that wasn't Mister Meltzer."

Before I could reply, the built-in shortwave radio inside my Alpha Series Big Daddy diving helmet audibly powered to life.

Moments later, Sinclair informed me with his Southern drawl, "Well, the good news is that I located a new train car. But the station's still locked down, an' we're not alone in here...I see a shadow in the ticket booth. I'll lay low while you have a gander."

As my radio began to power down, I continued forward towards the Ferris Wheel. However, before the hardwired devise could completely shut off, a second voice came through that caused me to stop almost literally in mid-step as I recognized it all to well.

The somewhat timid voice of Stanley Poole filled the air as he addressed us, "Oh, hello boys. The name's Stan Poole...Rapture Tribune. Quality paper…at least before the locals stopped readin' and started findin' other uses for it. Anyway, I'm looking to cut a deal, fellas. Come by the train station, I'm here in the booth."

Finally, my radio powered down completely and left us in near complete silence. As it did, Eleanor asked with a tone that was a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity as she clearly wanted to see my reaction to the situation, "It is him, Father. So...what do we do now?"

I calmly instructed her with my surgically-modified Alpha Series Big Daddy voice, "Play it cool, kid. He didn't seem to know that I still remember everything. Let's see where this goes for now."

Planning to feign ignorance for the time being to let Poole think that he had no reason to fear me, I began to continue forward towards the Ferris Wheel once again.

As I did, Eleanor asked me, "Hey, Johnny...I've been meaning to ask...why did you let me bother you so much back then?"

I let out a confused grunt in response.

My beautiful companion explained, "I was just an annoying little girl, right? I kept following you and asking questions even when it got you in trouble with Mother a few times. You even always turned down invitations from all those…women…who kept trying to get your attention and take you away from me after you became our local celebrity. Why?"

I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless copper façade for a moment before I grunted in response, "You've never been a bother, El. There's no one else that I would rather spend time with than you."

Eleanor remarked with a genuinely happy tone in her angelic, British accented voice, "Johnny…"

However, we were interrupted as Subject Alpha called out from where he had apparently found something of interest inside the control booth in the center of the Ferris Wheel, "Sir, over here!"

Turning to my right, I began to make my way over to my brother to see what he had found inside the booth.