A beacon.

Data transmission.

Broadcast?

I don't give a flying fuck.

All of Eva's theories are great, but I find I don't care any more.

The virus has some sort of method of connecting to others infected with the virus, and then it relays any of the footage located in those distributed files that Protea was slipping into my mind.

I reassemble the NTW-20, dropping the thirty-plus kilo weapon on my bed before moving onto the next firearm.

Beatrice almost cooked as her neural cloud took the insane experiences I was having and sent them to anything that would listen. All the TVs in the area, computers, phones… I can only hope that a hell constructed for me personally wasn't seen by too many people. Eva found the core program in both of our neural clouds, and she's working with Beatrice to figure out how to eradicate it.

My rebuilt and well used M16A4 is strapped to a bandolier and slung over my shoulder. My hands move to a Honey Badger.

"We still aren't sure of where the Nyto designated as Protea is located." Holly states.

"We've narrowed down her location."

"Yes. Still, I do not see the value of preparing without knowledge of what we're preparing for."

"Because, while I may not know where she is, I know what I'm going to do when I find her." I tuck my handgun into my plate carrier. "You can fuck with me, but don't fuck with my family."

Holly is quiet for a moment. "I killed P90."

I pause halfway through loading a magazine into my plate carrier.

"Before I left the KCCO's service, I was responsible for hunting you down." She continues. "I have also 'fucked with your family' as you put it."

I allow myself to finish strapping the magazine to myself. "You know… I'm not sure you could have brought a worse time to bring this up. It's not like I wasn't aware, but… why?"

"I do not wish to die." She looks at me, eyes unmoving, her animation program not triggering desperate tears, or pleading, or reproach. Just a calm statement of fact. "However, should you deem me unnecessary, you may dispose of me."

"I'm not going to get rid of you, Holly. You've been with me far, far longer than P90 was. Hell, you've almost been the sole assistant to keep me running for as long as the OGAS version of P90 had." I strap the rest of my magazines to myself, the three spare NTW mags in a backpack with a few other odds and ends. "I'm never going to forget what happened to P90, but I'm not going to tell you I'm going to hate you forever either. I've done things I'm not proud of, I'm sure you can say the same. Now, we work together." I look over at the projection of my once mortal foe turned into one of my closest allies. "Is there… a reason for this?"

"I have been… evaluating your desire to protect those around you. This past decade has been fairly interesting, and I have observed many things. However, I have come to the realization that I do not form attachments in the same way as you or a doll neural cloud might. I do not believe I can appropriately prioritize my actions to be in sync with yours. I have judged your goals more valid than mine, and wished to allow you to pass a value judgment."

"...What I'm hearing is, you don't get why I do what I do, and you don't want to step on my toes."

"Yes."

I blow air through my lips for a few seconds, thinking. "Sure seems like you hold me in higher regard than your own well being, if you're willing to let me discard you like that."

"Yes. You are priority four."

I raise an eyebrow. "Four?"

"One. Gertrude Galanis. Two. Farah Galanis. Three. Oliver Galanis. Four. Hadwin Galanis."

I smirk. "Gee, your priorities sure seem to line up with mine." I sit down on the bed and the digital specter sits down beside me. "You're not that bad, Holly, and you're allowed to have your opinions aside from mine. I'd rather you didn't rewrite my brain on whim, but… It's not like I could very well stop you." I shrug. "I trust you to help me, and that's all that matters to me. You cover my back, I've got yours."

She blinks at me once, twice, three times. "...Understood."

"So, are you ready to help me screw up the bitch messing with my head and my kids?"

"Yes." Holly stands up. "I will do my duty as described."

"Excellent." I look down at myself. Strapped to the nines…

A knock on my door.

"Come in."

"Daddy?" Farah walks in, hands holding something out of sight. She seems pretty unnerved by the mass of weapons on the bed, and… yeah, that seems about right. "What are you doing?"

"I am preparing to fight." I state.

"Why?"

"That's obvious." I blink. "It's because I need to protect you and your siblings."

"I don't want you to." She sits down on the chair in front of my desk and curls her knees up to her chest and hugs herself. "When you fight, it's scary."

"It's very scary. Every time you go out…" I trail off. Farah's eyeing the guns strapped to me. "...Right."

I unslung the M16 and tossed the handgun onto the bed, completely disarming myself before walking over to my youngest and crouching down to her level.

"Hey. I'm not… that video wasn't me, okay?"

"I know that, daddy." She shakes her head. "But it's really scary when you prepare to fight. Your face always becomes like a villain in a movie, and your eyes get so cold."

I glance to the side, and Holly nods.

"I… wasn't aware of that." extend a hand to the balled up child, but hesitate. She probably doesn't want me to touch her, if she thinks I'm scary. "It's just that… well, I'm scared too."

"No, you're not." She shakes her head. "Everyone says you're really brave."

"That's the thing, Farah." I smile at her. "The first is, being brave doesn't mean you're not scared, it means you act when you need to."

"Do you need to?" She suddenly looks up at me, and her arms slip a little, revealing a data stick. "I want you to stay with us instead."

"Yeah?" I lean back and sit down on the floor, now slightly lower than her.

"Yeah."

"I wish I could stay with you." I look away. "I really do. But, this woman, this… Nyto is too dangerous. She's too fast for me to contain her, and that means if I slip up you could get hurt. Besides," I glance back at the bed. "I'm going to have to carry weapons with me, and… I don't want you three to think of me as a guy who only carries a rifle."

Her eyes dance away, no doubt returning to the video still fresh in everyone's minds.

"Farah." I draw her eyes back towards me. "You remember your mom?"

"Y-yes?"

"She was gentle, kind, and caring, right?"

"Of course!" A little bit of her typical fire returns to her eyes. "Nobody was kinder than mom!"

"Aleah was… one of the fiercest women on the battlefield, before she had you. When you were born she decided she didn't want you to think of her as a violent person, and to raise you with love instead."

She bites her lip.

"I-I'm not saying her kindness was a lie! She was a model mother as far as I can tell, just… I wish I was able to be a nice and kind father instead of… what I am."

"But you are kind, Daddy."

"I try." I can't keep my smile from twisting in regret. "Kind fathers don't make their children scared of them."

"I'm not scared." Her voice is unconvincing.

"It's okay if you are, it's okay if you aren't." I grab my own hand to keep it from reaching out. "I was scared of myself. I don't want to be the man you saw in that dream, and… Sometimes I worry about some of those things I'd do." I clear my throat. "But, I need you to know this, if nothing else."

She looks up at me.

"I will never, never hurt you. The thought of it makes me sick. You, Gertrude, and Oliver are the most precious people on this planet, and that will never change. If nothing else, I want you to know that."

She nods very slightly, eyes shifting down to her knees. "I know, daddy."

"I hope you do." I sigh.

Oliver pokes his head into the room. "Farah, Grandpa is here to pick us up."

Farah gets up and pauses in front of me. "Can I have a hug?"

Ah.

She did want to be comforted.

I open my arms, and she sits down next to me, arms wrapped around my torso.

Ollie looks back down the hallway and sighs. "Gerty, tell Grandpa we're gonna be a minute."

"Okay!"

Ollie sits down on my other side, and I instinctively wrap my arm around him.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yes Ollie?"

"Can you promise me you'll come back?" He starts to chew on his lip. "You sometimes go away for weeks on end…"

"This will be quick." I assure him.

"Are you sure you'll be able to beat her?"

"I have help." I mess up his hair. "We'll get her one way or another."

"But, you'll be okay, right? She's after you." He grabs my arm tightly. "I don't wanna watch you get hurt on TV again."

Again. Because this won't be the first time. Bitter regret washes over me once more. "I promise I'll make it back to you. I… I can't promise I won't get hurt. But, I'll do my best not to."

"I don't like it."

"Me neither." I pull him tighter.

"Daddyyyyy…" Gerty pokes her head in. "Grandpa wants to know what the holdup is."

"We'll be out in a second-" I start to say, but before I can finish she's leapt onto my lap.

"Group hug!" She announces, snuggling up to me.

I smile down at her as she puts herself into her most comfortable position in my lap. "You seem to be in good spirits."

"Yep!" She grins up at me. "I was thinking, and I realized that that mean lady who gave you bad dreams is just going to continue, it's better if you stop her now before she hurts you more!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"Of course! Daddy's invincible!"

"He's not invincible." Ollie rolls his eyes.

Farah rolls his eyes. "He's got armor plating around his head, though."

"I wish." I pat her head.

"Eh? Auntie Aleah always said you had ten centimeter plates around your brain though."

"...She was saying he's dense, Farah." Ollie leans over.

"Hey."

"Oh." Farah blinks. "That makes sense."

"You're gonna hurt my feelings." I pull them both closer. "Not that she's wrong, mind you."

"Auntie Aleah was never wrong." Ollie agrees, arms crossed authoritatively.

"No, she wasn't."

Another minute passes before footsteps enter the house, and Dad pokes his head into the room. "Had, what's the holdup?"

"Oh. Sorry." I give the three one last squeeze. "Alright kids, let's get into Grandpa's car."

"Okay!" Gerty leaps up. "Hey, Farah, why didn't you give Daddy the data drive yet?"

Garah looks down at the black drive in her hands. "Oh, right." She offers it out to me. "Here."

"What's on it?"

Gerty grins. "A dream to fight the nightmares!"

"Thanks." I tuck it into my vest. "I'll use it later."

I help my dad load the trio into the car along with their luggage.

"Hey, Hadwin." Dad's hand lands on my shoulder.

"What's up?"

"I know you and I haven't been on the best terms, but…"

I turn to him, looking him in the eyes for the first time in years. "I'm sorry."

He blinks.

"You were right, I was neglecting my kids. It took me too long to figure that out."

"Yet, you're still going out there into battle again, despite all of that?"

I nod. "This one isn't going to go away, and time is only going to make it worse."

He drums his fingers and his leg. "We're not going to sit the kids for more than a few days. We've got our own lives to live."

I nod.

"You'd better come pick them up. They need their dad."

"Trust me, I'll be there."

He smiles, the first smile I've seen from him in… too long. "Go get 'em, son."

"Thanks, dad."

He waves and gets into the driver seat of the car, and I wave as my kids poke their arms out the windows to wave as they drive off into the city.

Once they leave, I let my arm drop down, and take a deep breath.

Time to get to work.

If I was anyone else, there would be a problem.

Sector 3 has a decently large population despite its small footprint. A thriving fishing industry and trade hub, we're largely sufficient through trade, and only have small areas where food is grown locally. The widest part of the city is only five kilometers across. With everyone so close, it's no surprise that most people know everyone else to a certain degree.

This is why I, the resident crazy veteran, am able to walk down the street in the fading light of late fall with four guns on my person without the cops being called on me.

I'm not saying I should be doing this, but I don't want to go under-armed, and I'm able to ignore the various concerned looks on the way past. Back when I first got back, I got those looks all the time, not just when I strapped myself like I was expecting to fight a war.

My eyes scan around for Rakim. As much as it pains me, he's important to the plan. After a few seconds, I just sit myself down on the bench and start checking my firearms, trying my hardest to not freak out any of the civilians walking past.

"Hadwin." Holly grabs my attention. "I have finished organizing the files from the drop earlier today."

"Oh?"

"You have two-hundred-fifty-eight photos, three audio samples, and a note."

"Oh boy. Note's from Rose?"

"That is correct. Shall I read it?"

"No time like the present."

Holly's tone shifts into a much more natural one, emulating Rose's cadence and rough pitch. "Hadwin, You really shouldn't have contacted Mk23. While I understand the circumstances, I've been having a hard time keeping everything in balance here, and breaking that balance is going to cause some issues, and… well, you'll figure it out before long, I suspect.

"That said, having our drops hijacked is worrying. Please send me a burner phone with your next drop so that we can have some rudimentary communication to discuss these developments. I'm very concerned for your health and safety, after all, as are we all.

"I'd never cut Oliver off. I wish I could see him, but we're still getting hits from our past occasionally, and I would like to shield him and his two sisters from that as much as possible. For now, please show them these photos, and send back something with Mk23 within a week.

"Also, I hope you didn't try talking with her again, but please refrain from talking to Mk23 again, at least for the next week."

"Love, Rose."

I blink. "For a week…?"

"No other text present." Holly reports, voice once more monotone as per usual.

"I guess… something's going to happen in a week. Maybe she's coming by? But then, she wouldn't ask for the burner phone…"

"While that is something you will have to consider, there's other more pressing items. For instance, three audio messages."

"I'll hold off on those for now." I shake my head. "Right now, I need to get the final part of my plan in order."

Holly is quiet for a moment. "I will not fail, Hadwin."

"You never do, Holly."

A police cruiser rolls up, and I pull myself and over sixty kilos of equipment off the bench as the driver shuts off the vehicle and steps out.

"I dunno, Hadwin." Rakim shakes his head even as he walks up to me to give me a fist bump. "I'm not really sure the police are supposed to loan out assets like this."

"Come on. It used to be mine anyway. I gave it to the police force since I didn't need it at the time."

"I seem to recall that we also didn't want you to have one of those just lying around for this exact reason." He sighs. "Y'know, just because you're doing this in a less populated area, it doesn't mean your plan isn't going to get anyone killed."

"She attacked me in a store in the middle of the day." My voice gains ice at the recollection. "I will not fight her on her own terms if I can help it."

"...I suppose." He gestures back at the car. "Alright, hop in. I'll take you to HQ and we'll talk to the chief."

"Thanks."

The drive is relatively short, as is the police chief signing off on the release document. The chief is, ironically, one of the men that Anisim had under his payroll way back when I first got dragged into this mess. I don't know what the chief at the time had said to them, but from then on they had always treated me with a weird respect.

In any case, it comes in useful for times like this.

Rakim leads me down into the storage space, an area lined with evidence and old equipment that the police no longer use.

My heart drops slightly as I recognize some outdated doll frames, and I can only hope that the neural clouds that used to inhabit them were able to move on and weren't just… left here to rot.

Still, I'm not here for them.

"Here it is." Rakim says nervously. "It's always given me the creeps, man. Are you sure you want to use it?"

"Shouldn't you be happy I'm taking it off your hands?"

"Well… sure, but…" He looks up at the sheet covered object that stretches all the way to the ceiling. "Look, just be really, really careful, okay? I don't wanna see any more injuries this week."

"No promises." I tug on the sheet and it pulls off, revealing battered green paint.

A Manticore. Emblazoned on the side in large blocky letters is the serial "И1704".

I glance at the projection of Holly. "Ready?"

"Yes." She disappears from my visual input, and the Manticore's lights turn on. "Connection established."

I turn to Rakim, who's backed away, hand on his handgun. "I'm going to need some ammo, and the loading dock keycode." I can't help but have a smirk cross my face as the Manticore, Holly, gets to her feet, almost scraping the warehouse ceiling in the process. "Well, unless you want her to walk through the office…?"