l… l
Chapter Thirty Nine
August 20th, 2077
Night City, Northern California
The Catacombs, Arroyo
Multi Enim Unum.
One for many .
That had been the Sirens' creed for decades, and Alexandra Pierce could confidently state that they had held on to that belief with faith and honor from the very onset of her Order's existence.
While the citizens of Night City went about their daily lives, they had no idea of the silent protectors watching from the shadows.
They were the first to impart the conviction that there was more to existence than punching a time card for the smallest salaries.
They were the first to march on the corporations when Night City suffered under their tyrannical reign.
And they were the first to run for the shadows in disgrace.
The Sirens used to number in the thousands, commanded by their mysterious and tenacious Matriarch, whom every Siren strives to emulate. Every major incursion was led by the Matriarch, who annihilated Corporate Soldiers and Mercenaries with such elegance that it could have been mistaken for a beautiful symphony.
From the blighted streets of Night City to almost every major metropolis in the NUSA, the Siren's reach was far and wide.
But their secret war was an everlasting conflict where victory and defeat went hand in hand. The Matriarch and her council soon discovered that Night City was the foundation to the corruption spreading across the globe.
If a lasting victory was to be achieved, then Richard Night's oasis must be purged of its cancer. The Matriarchs gaze was now firmly set upon Night City, and the Siren's war with the megacorporations reached new heights.
For the first time in their existence, those who oversaw the decadent institutions of Night City watched the Matriarch reverse years of corrupt practices, and dread became a fervent emotion amongst their number in those final days of the conflict.
Alexandra still remembers the rush of satisfaction that coursed through her body with every victory during the pinnacle of the Order's prestige.
That emotion was immediately replaced by searing resentment, which flooded through Alexandra's heart as it was taken away from them.
Her recollection of that awful day is still fresh in her mind.
Isabel, the Matriarch's Firstborn and most beloved daughter, shattered their hopes of achieving a final victory when she led nearly half of their Order into damnation.
Pride and a lust for power ensured that their impending golden age was reduced to nothing more than a fantasy.
Isabel planned to assassinate their Matriarch during her youngest sister's first birthday, which coincided with a series of insurrections within the Siren's Warrior Caste.
The Firstborn's attempt at a quick victory was snuffed out when the Matriarch savagely beat her on the steps of the Volaris, the beating heart of the Siren's command structure.
It was the first salvo in a revolution that would linger for months, as Sirens butchered one another on the holy grounds of Solaria. The very foundations they spent over twenty years of their existence erecting from dust were stained with Siren blood.
Across the periphery of the NUSA, their agents tore each other apart in a frenzy of madness and betrayal. Everything they had built was gone in the span of a few measly months.
Alexandra can still recall the atrocities that their magnificent dominion was subjected to, and the ramifications of the Firstborn's revolt continue to be experienced to this very day. Nothing, however, could repair the gaping wound of betrayal that remained in their Order years after the civil war.
The Sirens should have killed Isabel when the uprising was finally put down, but she escaped to the surface in those tumultuous final hours. The Loyalists meant to give chase, but the rebellion inflicted a terrible price on their people.
The Sirens were completely destabilized, and it took years for the Matriarch to finally restore order.
By then, any trace of the betrayer was gone along with any opportunity for retaliation.
It took the Matriarch several weeks to recover from her favorite daughter's betrayal, during which she secluded herself in the Hollow for weeks until finally emerging from her isolation.
The Matriarch's subsequent words to the rest of her fanatical supporters came dangerously near to ripping the Sirens apart from the inside out. She was stepping down from command, citing a failure to execute the duties of her office and taking sole blame for the Firstborn's actions.
She exiled herself to the surface with her youngest offspring, transferring command to her second daughter, Acadia, and presenting her sacred armor as a symbolic passing of the torch.
With her, the Matriarch brought along a small group of dedicated Sirens, all of whom pledged to serve their Matron till the end of their days. Nobody wanted to see her depart in disgrace, but her failure to control Isabel's aggressive inclinations was the primary cause of the Siren's downfall.
With their leader's exile, the Warrior Caste sought permission to search the city for Isabel, but the newly appointed Secundus refused to authorize any efforts at retaliation.
The Firstborn's twin sister, Acadia, is everything her rebellious sister isn't: calm, compassionate, and humble. These characteristics were crucial in bridging the schism that persisted in their Order even seven years after the insurrection.
The stain of Isabel's rebellion still darkened the thoughts of every member of the Warrior caste even as the annals of time dragged on. The First Trueborn's death would be the only means of amending her rebellion's atrocities.
It was just a matter of time and opportunity before Isabel returned to Solaria, and the first step she took inside their domain would be her last.
At least that's how it was supposed to go.
"Kill them all!"
Acadia had the Matriarch's sacred armor entombed inside a mausoleum created in her honor. It was supposed to be a closely guarded secret, but the traitor had managed to make someone talk back at Solaria, and now they were suffering for it.
Inside the packed chambers of the Matriarchs Mausoleum, chaos reigned.
Alexandra charged into the Scaver and Mercenary ranks, with her team of Howling Banshees in tow. The bandits were little more than cannon fodder, and butchering them was painfully simple, but their main focus wasn't on the uncoordinated rabble.
"Keep them busy."
Alexandra could hear the Trueborn's poisoned comments even from this considerable distance. Isabel was plundering the Mausoleum of its valuable relics, and the Trueborn and her vanguard slaughtered the sentries that stood guard over the Matriarch's possession.
Alexandra's Mantis Blades bisected a Merc from his torso to his waist after a flurry of strikes to the chest. A Banshee dropped from above and landed squarely on the shoulders of a Berserker to her left, stunning the Scaver. He attempted to reach up and grip the lithe legs wrapping around his neck, but the Siren wrenched her legs below his chin and snapped his neck.
The Berserker fell to the muddied ground like a puppet with their strings cut and his killer disappeared into the shadows to strike out at another one of the betrayer's cronies.
Several Scavers converged on the Mausoleum entrance and launched dozens of road flares into the darkened corridors. A trio of Heavy gunners unleashed a barrage of ballistic shells, pinning down a swarm of Banshees and preventing the Sirens from picking off their soldiers one by one.
"Amelia, wait!" One of the Banshees gave a bloodcurdling roar and charged into the fray.
Alexandra turned and saw several Scavers fire at her rampaging subordinate, who implanted one of her Mantis Blades into a gunmen's chest and turned him towards the oncoming ballistic projectiles.
The Banshee pressed forward, utilizing her makeshift meatshield to great effect and slamming into a Scaver Jackhammer. Amelia discarded her peppered safeguard and cut down three of the bandits before turning her attention towards a clustered group of Scavers.
"Amelia, get the fuck back in formation!" Their Matriarch personally trained Banshees to work in finely tuned pairs, but they weren't restricted to selecting one partner to train with.
Banshee squads consisted of eight aspirants who trained together for nearly four years before being sent to their first patrol. Amelia's actions jeopardized the formation's integrity, and Alexandra's team leader, Keira, would have harsh words with her later.
The rampaging Banshee regained her composure and returned to her comrades behind a series of thick dirt mounds. Amelia whirled on her comrades with frustration leaking into her voice.
"These are fucking Scavers, Alex! Why the fuck aren't we taking them on." It was Alexandra's turn to while on her insubordinate team member.
"If you haven't noticed, they've locked down the Mausoleum entrance. You need to get your head out of your ass and focus on our mission." A fragmentation blast forced them to duck their heads.
"I know the mission," Amelia emphasized with venom in her voice. "I also know that that the traitorous is within our grasp, and we're sitting here with our thumbs up our ass."
"Hey!" A hand grasped Amelia's shoulder, and she was faced to face with Kiera, their resident hardass and squad leader. "Keep your discipline Banshee, that's one of your sisters you're talking to, not an aspirant."
"Are you kidding me right now!" The irate Banshee brushed off Kiera's. "Who knows how long the bitch has been in there! If she manages to equip the Matriarchs sacred armor were all fucked!"
"I understand the severity of the situation, Amelia." Kiera heatedly retorted. "Now shut up and listen!"
The rebellious Banshee finally conceded to her team leader's demands, allowing Kiera to activate her squad-wide transmitter.
"Listen up!" A series of green lights flashed on Alexandra's heads-up display, indicating that the scattered Banshees received her transmission. "Alex, take Amelia and Willow up the right flank and screen our forward advance. The rest of you lay down, covering fire. Speed is essential here, ladies, so let's make it count."
The Howling Banshees burst from their cover as a single unified force, with a majority unleashing a torrent of gunfire from their Arasaka Shigures. Amelia was the first to act, blazing a trail for Alexandra and Willow to follow while drawing the attention of several Scaver teams.
A few isolated groups attempted to cut Amelia off, but they were quickly sent to an early grave by a vicious combination of Amelia's Mantis Blades and Alexandra's Monowire.
Her fury wasn't unwarranted.
Amelia was a member of the ancient guard who had served alongside the Matriarch for years prior to Isabel's rebellion. She harbored a venomous loathing for the Firstborn rivaled only by the squad's chief scout Kasumi, and if the traitor obtained the sacred armor, it would only serve to tarnish the Warrior Caste's honor.
Alexandra slammed a fresh magazine into her Shigure moments before a Scaver peaked around the corner. She pivoted to the left, sliding along the muddied ground before firing her SMG from the hip. The smart bullets struck the bandit's ribs, piercing his lungs and knocking him on his back.
The Banshee shot to her feet, snatching the dying thug by his throat and slamming him against another of his fellows. She fired another burst of projectiles that pierced the dying man's gut and cutting down his pinned partner.
"Alex, on your right!" Willow's prompt intervention saved the Banshee from being struck in the back of the skull with an electric Mantis Blade.
Alexandra let go of her Shigure and used her left forearm to block another lethal strike. The drug-addled madman sprang for her with both blades extended, and the Banshee ducked beneath the armed limbs to avoid being skewered.
She pulled a serrated knife from her forearm and drove it into the Berserker's jaw. Her blade slashed into the jugular, severing the bone structure in half and generating excruciating pain that penetrated the drugged-out Scaver's consciousness.
"AGHHHH!" The Berserker fell to his knees, earning a burst of 5.56 to the skull courtesy of Willow.
"Persistent bastards!" Kasumi growled out, gunning down a trio of retreating Scavers in with three shots to the skull.
As the team continued up the path, they encountered more and more Scavers. Berserkers, Heavy Gunners, and Thugs seemed to melt away under the combined assault of Alexandra's dispatched team and accurate fire from the bunkered down Banshees.
The Sirens pressed on toward the Mausoleum with a potent fury. Scaver resistance remained determined but increasingly more uncoordinated, and before long, the Banshees could hear a thrumming of sound originating from the tomb.
They were running out of time.
Amelia became frantic and broke formation, leaving her squad behind to breach the tomb as the last vestiges of Scaver resistance were about to be washed away.
"Amelia!" Alexandra watched the furious Banshee disappear into the entrance shadow. "Goddamnit!"
She and Willow were barely a few steps from the entrance when a human-shaped torpedo slammed past them. Alexandra's heart sank as a peek at the object showed Amelia's crumbled remains.
They failed.
And now, they would pay the price.
"Like sheep to the pen…." A voice condescending and filled with contempt smashed against Alexandra's frame. Willow was little better, taking a few steps back while keeping her Shigure sighted on the entrance. "….And you're ready for slaughter."
The Matriarch's armor was intricately designed by people whose craftsmanship could be described as otherworldly. Its golden visor shone brightly even through the darkest corridors, and Alexandra would have found the sight beautiful if the armor was worn by the most detestable of their kind.
The Arch Traitor shone in the faint light of the Mausoleum, prompting the Banshees to take several steps back in fear. With eight of them, facing against the betrayer was a daunting task, but it would be practically impossible if she possessed the Matriarch's legendary armor.
But they would try nonetheless. Every member of the Warrior Caste took a solemn vow to never again allow the betrayer to set foot in their catacombs without exacting their retribution.
No matter what the cost.
"Fits like a glove." Isabel made a show of playfully tugging at her armor, irritating the Banshees. "Course, this beauty was supposed to be mine in the first place. You don't know how hard it is to put this damn thing on. It would have taken me hours if my mother hadn't instructed me already."
"You do not deserve to wear that armor, traitor ." Keira bit out with poisonous intent. "Take it off and submit to our people's justice."
"Surrender and die?" Isabel barked with laughter. "I'd sooner confess my sins than submit to you weaklings!"
The arch-traitor swooped down on the Sirens at a frantic velocity that Alexandra couldn't fathom, and Willow paid the ultimate price. With a single stab to the torso, her colleague's intestines were spread across the tunnel network.
Alexandra quietly cursed Isabel for forcing her to ruin the Matriarch's armor as she fired a torrent of 5.56 into her helmet. A barrier generated around the traitor, soaking up the high-powered projectiles and preventing even a mark from scratching its surface.
"Cute." Isabel batted Alexandra aside, fracturing the Banshee's left cheek and slamming her against the far wall. With the two immediate Sirens dealt with, the traitor egged on the rest of her former people. "Well, come along then, sisters. Time to meet God."
"Kill the traitor!" The Banshees unleashed everything they had.
Alexandra couldn't feel her limbs, every fiber of her body was nearly lifeless, and she tried to find her feet.
The ground vibrated as the Firstborn charged into the Banshee ranks aiming to disrupt their command structure by killing Kiera. The Siren rolled to her right and narrowly, avoiding a strike to her head, and proceeded to stab at the traitor's left leg to cut down her mobility.
Isabel checked the assault with her armored shin, snapping the blade and driving her other foot directly into Kiera's shoulder. The Banshee team lead was sent sprawling to the floor with a shattered collarbone.
The Sirens mounted a brave resistance despite their commander being crippled, but it was ultimately in vain. Several of their number were slain just minutes after Kiera was rendered ineffective, and Alexandra recovered in time to watch Isabel snap the neck of one of her fellow Banshees.
"How insignificant." Isabel seized a pair of serrated daggers and a Shigure from the Banshee's shattered harness. Alexandra's faltering frame drew her attention as she examined her freshly acquired weapons with a blank expression. "Ah, I see the Sirens stubbornness has persisted through the years, an admirable quality…."
"…..But ultimately futile." The rest of her squad was either dead or incapacitated, but the Banshee refused to go down quietly. Alexandra ignored the blood gushing from her fractured cheek, as well as the fluids pouring from the dispersed cuts in her combat suits hood.
If this was to be her last stand, then she'd rather die on her feet.
Alexandra fired three rounds from her damaged Shigure, watching helplessly as the bullets failed to penetrate Isabel's energy field. Her resistance elicited a smug chuckle from the betrayer as she observed the Siren struggle to reload the SMG while partially blind.
"You've got a little fight in you," Isabel mocked as she closed the distance between herself and Alexandra. "I like that."
The Banshee served her people with pride and a passion that harkened to a time when they weren't forced to cower in the dark.
If this was to be Alexandra's end that she would go to it happily.
Fate had other ideas, for a voice that belonged to neither traitor nor Siren echoed in the catacombs.
"So do I. "
A shimmer descended over the traitor, and a black fist appeared from the shadows, striking Isabel on the left cheek and sending her hurtling into the far wall. Alexandra could scarcely believe her eyes when a towering figure stood beside her, sporting the same intricate armor as their Matriarchs.
"Take a break, Siren." A masculine voice emerged from the black shadow standing next to her. "You've earned it."
The enigmatic interloper nodded behind him, and her eyes soon gazed upon the familiar lenses of another Banshee. "Kasumi?"
"I got you, sister." Kasumi placed her arm around Alexandra's shoulder, allowing the wounded Siren to rest against her as her adrenaline faded. "This isn't our fight anymore."
Alexandra tried to protest, but her body betrayed her, prompting Kasumi to lead her into the adjacent corridor to lean her bruised form against.
"We need to kill her." Alexandra stuttered out, earning a glance from her compatriot.
"Believe me. I would love nothing more than to be out there to put a bullet in her." Kasumi reluctantly replied. "But we're out of our league."
"Then what…" The wounded Banshee violently coughed. "… What do we do now?"
"Wait for backup. The Matriarch and our sisters are coming."
Hope blossomed in Alexandra's heart. If anyone could kill Isabel, it would be their former master.
She could only pray that the interloper could match the traitor's wrath long enough for reinforcements to arrive. But she had no idea that the armored figure facing down their deadliest enemy was a monster far worse than Isabel ever could be.
Deathstroke Intro (Entrance) Theme (Youtube)
Cyrus felt a surge of fury wash over him.
Eliza's MJOLNIR was just as he remembered it. The minuscule marks of plasma spread across its lower torso and upper right arm were mementos to a time when both Spartans face down the Covenant on a dozen planets snuffed with nuclear fallout.
She was supposed to repair the indentations after their mission at Line Installation 2-4, but that never came to pass.
And now here it was, bearing a passenger whom Cyrus would slaughter for even daring to touch something that was not hers.
"That armor doesn't belong to you." The Meatman laughed at his declaration.
"I think it looks good on me, Uncle Cyrus ." Isabel sniggered condescendingly as the Headhunter bristled at her comment. "What, you didn't think mom would never talk about you? I grew up on stories of the great and undaunting Cyrus, and to be frank, I loved her stories. Was it true that you faced down four hunters with nothing but an edged knife?"
"I doubt you care," Cyrus remarked while tightly gripping his Kukri.
"I don't." The traitor easily admitted. "But it's not every day you get to meet your idol. You should have seen my face when I saw you butcher your way through one of my safehouses. I was practically leaping for joy at the prospect of facing you….."
"…..Of course, I couldn't face you straight out," Isabel continued. "I would be killed so easily it would take all the fun away. I needed to level the playing field, so I decided to come back home and knick my sister's gift. Hope you don't mind."
Chamber trembled as her Spartan fell into the clutches of a familiar black haze, and Theta was little better in his reaction.
It was not her finest idea to install the adolescent AI into her data crystal during such a tumultuous period.
All of Chamber's attempts to communicate with Cyrus were met with silence, and she belatedly realized that she had turned into a reluctant passenger for a confrontation she had no part in.
"I do." Cyrus seethed with rage. "And I will pry you out of that armor piece by bloody piece."
"Oh, I bet you will, but before that happens, I was curious… Do you see the black haze like me?"
In an instant, Cyrus kicked off his heels and fired a snap kick towards Isabel's temple with cold and ruthless precision.
The betrayer was just able to evade the brutal assault by a hair, but she could not avoid the straight elbow to the jaw that followed. Her energy barrier deflected most of the impact, but the kinetic force was sufficient enough to momentarily stun her.
Cyrus managed three strikes to land three quick strikes to her helmet before she deflected him and landed a hefty counter punch to his torso. The Headhunter stumbled backward, allowing the betrayer to unleash a flurry of brutal punches and jabs.
When Cyrus found a sizeable lull in her attacks, he stepped forward and leg-checked Isabel, knocking her off balance and burying his first into her abdomen.
Isabel felt her bones shudder as another blow struck her knees. Cyrus attempted to bring the fight to a close with another hit to her temple, but she countered by driving her shoulder into the Spartan's stomach, sending him sprawling back off balance.
The Firstborn unsheathed her stolen dagger and swiped at Cyrus with a flurry of lethal strikes. He parried several slashes, but the few instances Isabel managed to score a hit sent a shockwave of concentrated electricity crashing against his protective barrier.
"Shields at sixty percent, Cyrus!" Chamber's voice pierced the black haze for but a moment.
Isabel flung herself at Cyrus with a ferocious snarl of fury, aiming to sink her blade into his chest. However, the Spartan dropped to his back and kicked her abdomen, knocking her off her feet and over his head.
Cyrus watched the Firstborn twist in the air before landing feet first on the bloodied ground. A chuckle of pure amusement grated against the Spartan's ears as his attention honed on Isabel's dagger.
"Beautiful craftsmanship, don't you think? My mother spent years searching for the most potent materials in the world to turn into weapons. The result, a dagger that has enough potential to even cause her energy shielding to falter?" The Firstborn twirled the elegant blade in her palm before grabbing its twin from her hip with her free hand. "Would you care to test out its applications?"
"You talk too much."
Immediately after Isabel swiped at Cyrus' chest, he utilized his armored forearms to deflect her wrists away from him. Having successfully eluded a run of slashes, the Spartan wrapped one arm tightly around the Firstborn's lunging attack on his ribs and savagely twisted the trapped limb in his grip.
Isabel was compelled to move in sync with Cyrus's twisting action, allowing him to seize the serrated dagger and kick her away. The dagger's curved form stretched up to his forearm, and he turned it into his signature reverse grip.
"Chamber, I need your assistance." Cyrus and Isabel circled one another like a pair of wolves fighting for the position of Alpha in their pack.
"What do you require?" The AI's avatar appeared on his head-up display, but Cyrus's eyes never left his muted quarry.
"We need to bring her down without damaging Eliza's MJOLNIR." Cyrus began. "Remotely access her uplink and see if you can bypass her armor. If you do that, then I can remove her helmet and deal with her accordingly."
"Thought we were taking her alive?" The Spartan sneered at the very thought of allowing this animal to live. Isabel's part in Dana's death ensured she would never leave these Catacombs alive.
The only thing Isabel earned was a quick death, and that was because she was Eliza's first daughter. Cyrus would never subject his partner to the sight of her flesh and blood's butchered corpse no matter how much he hated her.
"Not anymore." The circling pair came to a sudden stop, each warily eyeing the other's stance.
Cyrus stood as a coiled snake, ready to retaliate to every single of the Firstborn's attacks at a moment's notice. In contrast to the Spartan, Isabel mimicked a bloodthirsty hound, her form fidgety and twitching with each passing second.
Every fiber of Isabel's being wanted to lash out at the Spartan, but to do so would ensure a quick death. Despite many of her mother's augmented genes passing onto her first daughter, she was nowhere near able to match Cyrus's capabilities.
The Firstborn may have been adequate to wear her mother's armor, but it strained her body with each calculated movement. The original is often better than the sequel, and this was one of those cases that proved the statement true.
Isabel couldn't keep up this pace forever. She needed to level the playing field and get Cyrus off his game.
And there was no better way to do this than by employing the weapon that prompted half of the Sirens to turn against their Matriarch in the first place.
Her voice.
Cyrus was only a few steps away from launching himself at Isabel when she began to spew her poisonous words.
"You know how long she looked for you, Uncle?" The Firstborn began. "Damn, near a decade, but you were nowhere to be found, and she slowly turned into an inconsolable wreck for months before she met my father….."
His grasp on the dagger's handle became increasingly firm with each passing word.
"…..Did you know she loved you?"
A glint of amusement appeared in Isabel's voice as Cyrus failed to contain the falter in his gait.
"Oh, who am I kidding, she still does after all this time," Isabel explained with a sing-song voice. "My father, God rest his soul, put three babies in her and she still held a torch for you after all these years… Of course, it took years for my old man to break through her shell…."
The Spartan bit his growing fury down, trying to keep his composure and continue to analyze Isabel's form for any deviations, but her following words ignited a swell of mixed emotions.
"….What do you think she'll say when she finds out about the Merc and Nomad…."
Cyrus froze up, and Isabel smelled blood in the water.
"… What you've been here a few months, and you've already found someone else. Do you think my mother would even want to see you after realizing how quickly your loyalties change?…"
"… A lot can change in thirty years. For all you know, she might not want you back. I mean, look at what I'm wearing, Uncle…" Isabel once again flaunted Eliza's MJOLNIR. "… Do you think she would rid herself of this beauty after all this time if she wasn't trying to let go of her past. Because if she buried her armor, Uncle…."
Chamber watched his vitals reach a crescendo, mimicking a volcano seconds before an apocalyptic eruption.
"….Then doesn't that mean she buried you?"
And all Cyrus saw was darkness.
Heat signature detected…..contact…..one hostile.
Recommendation…..eliminate with extreme prejudice.
Isabel poked at his uncertainties to elicit an emotional reaction that would drive Cyrus into making a mistake. It was a tactic she used to great effect against her mother, and baring a few mistakes, she would have conquered the Sirens easily.
What she received wasn't a man filled with raw and wild emotion but instead one void of everything that made him human.
It was a critical mistake in a long list of actions that Isabel had taken in the last few weeks.
The first was killing Dana Parker.
The second was goading him with poisonous words aimed at his beating heart.
Her last mistake.
Assuming that Cyrus was prone to emotional outbursts.
He leaped off his feet and practically transformed into a dark blur, aiming for the Firstborn's head without a second's hesitation. Isabel just missed being slashed by the sharpened blade, but she was struck in the throat by a lightning-fast rabbit punch.
"ARGHH!" Even though her energy shields were once again able to withstand the majority of the assault, the focused strike slammed her trachea, causing her to lose crucial air as a result.
Isabel stumbled backward, trying her damndest to find her feet before the Spartan renewed her assault.
His resolve remained steadfast, even after launching such a powerful and devastating strike on his opponent. Cyrus had no intention of allowing the creature to regain her bearings, wrapping his free hand around her shoulder and launching her across the corridor into the far wall.
Isabel fell from the massive spartan-sized dent in the wall and managed to boost herself off the broken walls directly towards Cyrus.
The Firstborn's dagger sailed only an inch above Cyrus's skull after dropping to a single knee. He allowed Isabel to drift above him long enough to grip her belt and pull her towards him. The Spartan smashed a fist into the Trueborn's jaw, releasing a powerful uppercut that sent the Trueborn crashing through the ceiling.
Cyrus stood to full height, dangerously eyeing Isabel's faltering energy shield. The Spartan holstered his dagger and drew the Tactician mounted on his right shoulder mag lock and loaded a fresh set of EMP rounds into its feed.
Her falling figure was riddled by a succession of well-placed EMP bolts to the torso, which sent the remainder of her shielding crashing down around her as she came to rest on the muddy floor.
Cyrus smashed the heel of his foot into Isabel's stomach with shattering power before seizing her by the head and slamming a knee into her jaw. His vengeance did not stop there, as he went on to deliver a barrage of strikes to the parts of her body that was not substantially protected by MJOLNIR's armor.
An explosion of dirt flew in every direction with each subsequent strike, further damaging the passenger inside. The Spartan's fist ached with pain, but his attention was solely on breaking the Meatman .
It was only when Cyrus's mind registered the lack of movement from Isabel that he stayed his hand.
"Chamber." The Spartan's voice was low and missing every spec of human emotion, and the AI strained to hear him. "Are you done?"
"Yes." She hesitantly replied, watching her Spartan stalk the struggling Isabel. The AI's mind flashed with memories of a time where mercy was a word that Cyrus knew but didn't care.
Did Isabel deserve every bit of the pain she felt?
Absolutely.
But Chamber didn't want Cyrus to lose himself in the process. Not when she spent the last few months trying to keep him away from that dangerous edge between Headhunter and Spartan.
There was a clear disparity between the two roles.
A Spartan is a protector.
A Headhunter is an assassin.
They are different in their intentions, and Chamber had grown tired of Cyrus operating as an assassin. She wanted so much more for him, and this…..sociopath sought to undo all her work.
But Chamber wasn't in any position to dissuade him.
All she could do was pick up the pieces after Isabel was dead. The AI finished splicing through Eliza's MJOLNIR, and slowly every section of her armor locked up, leaving her at Cyrus's mercy.
He snatched Eliza's helm, searching the bottom of its jaw for the release latch and tearing off the Mark VI (B) helmet before laying it gingerly on the floor. The armor was as much of a casualty as the rest of Isabel's victims, and he would treat it with the reverence it deserved.
The Firstborn laid broken, eyes blurry and blood leaking from her mouth. Under the catacomb's low lights, Cyrus was once again struck by how similar she looked to Eliza, but he ruthlessly suppressed that thought with ease.
Isabel kept her arrogant smirk even though she lay broken before him, and Cyrus was eager to remove the expression off her face.
The Spartan drew an unmarked Unity from his holster, but this wasn't one of his modified pistols.
No, this sidearm belonged to one of Isabel's victims.
It belonged to Dana.
Cyrus gave it to the Chieftain as a gift after he departed her camp to hunt Maelstrom all those months ago. He made her promise to use it if the Maelstrom ever came back to exact their revenge, but he handled that issue within weeks.
Dana always gave him crap for giving her a gun she never got to use, but she promised to use it when the opportunity came.
She never got the chance.
He did.
Cyrus aimed the barrel of Dana's Unity at Isabel's forehead, finger resting just above the trigger. The Firstborn's eyes bore into his black visor, not once showing an ounce of fear for the looming Spartan.
"What," Isabel coughed out specks of blood. "Not gonna ask for my last words."
"People, receive that mercy." His finger wrapped around the trigger. "You don't."
His finger twitched.
But a warm body suddenly appeared from his blind spot, and a hand curled itself around Cyrus's shoulder, pulling his attention and causing him to lash out at the foreign entity.
The Spartan's elbow was seconds away from impacting the throat of this interloper when a voice that he had longed to hear for months echoed in his ear.
"Cyrus."
Cyrus ignored the dozens of Banshees breaching the Mausoleum.
He disregarded the shouting of orders and the growing commotion of numerous Sirens surrounding Isabel's broken form.
He unheeded his Bloodhounds rushing to his side as they weaved in between the firing lines of their temporary allies.
He neglected anything and everything, save for a pair of familiar azure orbs that stared past his blackened visor and into his crimson gaze.
The grip on his Unity slackened as his mind finally registered the woman standing next to him.
"Eliza?" Her beautiful azure orbs danced with amusement and delight as she took his pistol from his waning grasp.
"I missed you."
He did too.
More than she would ever know.
A reunion of lost siblings is in order but not everything is as it seems.
I hope you can forgive me for giving Isabel the minor ability to wield MJOLNIR but I surmised that Cyberpunk's insane cybernetic modifications coupled with the eugenics handed to a spartan child were enough of a boon to at the very least allow her to wield the power armor without shattering her body. Nevertheless, it will play a role later in the story so hope this doesn't smash your interest to much.
As always I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and remember to review to your heart's content every little bit helps my motivation.
So again thank you for everything.
Reviews:
gabekaykwok: The poll was heavily split between none or both, so I ended up taking the middle-ground approach to appease both camps. I burned my hand at work and it was a less than pleasant experience. If I post this story on AO3 I will most likely decide to take a week-by-week basis with each upload, so they will be very much behind the rest of us.
FalseProphet75: A gut-punch for sure but Night City loves to take and take and take until there is nothing left to take. Thats why change is coming to the city of dreams in the form of a Spartan.
BoarLord: Not to worry they are most certainly not the meatman.
Next Chapter: September 13th
The next chapter is available on my Pa t re on for those who would like to see it, but not to worry the schedule of uploading will not change, and from now on barring any unforeseen setbacks, I am in a position to have four consecutive chapter uploads on Fanfiction.