Summary: The Builder. Raal'Maker.
The sounds of a heart monitor echoed in the room. It was steadily thumping along for a moment before going erratic, then back to normal the next moment. This pattern repeated every other minute or so, almost in sync with heavy, raspy breaths. Someone sounded unstable.
"Oh, what did They do to you?" A soft-spoken male voice lamented. The sounds of nails tapping against plastic could be heard. "What did my Brethren do to you, my child? My Proxy." He sighed. "I said test runs. Test runs. Not trial by fire and death!" The voice barely raised above a whisper.
The heartbeat became erratic again. The breathing grew heavy.
"Not to be pitted against your fellow brethren like those Chosen." A hiss of disgust escaped his lips. The tapping stopped. "You all are designed to work together, not loathe each other. To be commanded by the one who would unify you all. To be much more refined than those… Chosen."
The heartbeat stabilized. The breathing eased up.
"But do They care once you all were taken from me? No. They care not." And how he wished they were never taken from him. "Oh, how Our arrogance shines through those Chosen. Our pride. Our hypocrisy. I continue to grow disillusioned by our goals."
"This damage…" He leaned over, studying the partially armored person before him, riddled with slashes, chunks missing from their body
;
some of their organs were bursting out. He carefully lifted their badly damaged arm. It was barely hanging on by threads of shredded muscle and ligaments. "So… visceral."
"Elder M-Maker?" A female voice hesitantly spoke out. Peering into the room was a scientist. She was tightly clutching her tablet, hiding her face behind it.
"Hm?"
Real'
Maker turned his head to see who it was.
The lady shrunk back. His gaze was always piercing when his Brethren had riled up. But that was the least of what had her frightened. This Elder in a human shell that was deteriorating. His currently unstable power was the cause, only amplified by his ill-tempered mood. That very power was slowly consuming the life out of it causing the flesh to sour as it dried up, crumbled, or peeled away. He struggled to control it, even more so after a meeting with his Brethren who were constantly trying his patience.
Currently,
the left
half of the shell's face was
deteriorating
.
Half the flesh was crumbling like dust and the other burned with people and red psionic energy that wicked at the edges. It all revealed the red muscle underneath that too was falling to the same curse.
"W-w-we will have your required items here shortly." She said.
He studied the woman for a moment before looking back at the body. "Ah, Dr. Hansen." He acknowledged
her with a more pleasant tone.
"I am pleased to hear that. How is the progress on the "Watchers" project?"
"It is coming along slowly but stead
il
y." She seemed to slowly relax. "We have run into a few issues with…
the final augmentations with what the Fragmenta delivered, but are diligently sorting through them
."
"That is to be expected." He nodded. "
One must take precautions with the lines we tread with them
.
The delicate decoding and blending of a genome. They must be perfect for their purpose.
."
"Yes, sir." She nodded.
"Please keep me posted as the project reaches phase
3
as I would like to–Nngh."
As he
was raising himself
, instead he found
himself bracing his body against the
operation
table. A piercing pain
surged through, burning his nerves
.
All visible skin rapidly began
to crack and flake as purple pulsating veins
spread like a web across his face.
His breathing became shaky.
"Elder Maker?" Dr. Hansen took a step into the room, only to quickly stop when even more ominous purpl
e-r
ed wisps of energy
shot out from his back
.
"Do not come any closer." H
e
whispered, with a shaky voice.
"I am fine. This shell is reaching its end."
Even using all his might to press against the table, it took him a while to straighten himself back up.
His breathing was
heavy
. "Have the team prep my next shell for me, please."
"Y-yes sir." She quickly le
f
t.
"Ah…" He let out a pained hiss as he doubled over again. "Seems
as this corruption deepens it increases my power. In turn, it
is causing me to burn through these shells quicker than before. Even more so when They have tried me for the day." He let out a chuckle. "What did you two do to me that day?"
After a few more moments of labor breathing, he managed to raise himself back up. His hand went about feeling his face, tracing the veins, cracks, and exposed muscle. He grimaced, flinching
as he found more holes had opened.
"
I possibly only
have a few more hours in this body before it becomes unusable." He rubbed his chin. "But I should be able to work on you, my child." His gaze shifted over to the person on the operation table. "Cross, oh Cross." He muttered. "They've desecrated you."
His hands drifted over the most damaged parts of the person. Studying each wound carefully.
"Yorrick, your work is nasty. How
T
hey have corrupted your once noble soul. Now, you are a savage." Something white lodged in the armor caught his eye. He concentrated his psionics around it and pulled it out.
Off-white, broken but sharp.
"A tooth? I see
T
hey altered you to be even more of a brute. More of a mockery of my intended design. A mockery to who you once were." He let out a hiss of disgust as he flicked the tooth away.
"Bites and slashes. I see he handles his axes with
some
finesse. Disembowelment. Gutted you like a fish." His fingers danced along a deep gash across
Cross'
chest. "And he tore your shield arm to shreds
. Technology lost,
but I have a solution to that.
One that will be more flexible.
"
He
smiled.
His eyes flashed open for a moment. Another pain surged through his body,
through his mind,
causing him to jolt straight up.
He held back a scream as his nerves burned like a strong force was trying to pull him out of his shell.
"Neh…" He doubled over again. Barely catching himself against the table.
The room started to spin as another shooting pain arced through his body. He was fighting to stay in his body. Fighting to stabilize his psionics. But something was feeling different. As that lightning surged through his nerves again, his vision blurred before suddenly splitting.
Suddenly, like he had a second mind, h
e saw the faces of several
panicking and terrified workers
and
heard their
frantic voices trying
to stop the activation of the other shell
.
This vision flipped back to the room he in, barely clinking on the table to stay standing.
The flipping continued.
His mind felt like it was tearing in two
from the sensory overload
.
It was a garbled mess of sights and sounds.
"What? What
is going on?
" He
spoke but heard an echo. Like his words were repeating twice.
That
shooting pain
struck again with greater intensity. A short cry came out as he finally collapsed to the ground, spitting up blood.
Fighting to gain control, to make sense of the chaos, he reached psionically across his facility.
"
No… they didn't." He quickly figured out the problem.
An echo of his own psionic signature. One that trying to pull him to where he stored his human shells. It was active. It shouldn't have been active. They were to prepare it. Activating it with his current condition was dangerous.
"You imbeciles!" He hissed, wincing
as his words echoed back at him increasing that pull
. A rare moment for him to call his workers such a word, but his patient was thin for the day. "I instructed for this shell to be prepared. Not activated.
You all should know the risks! The potential feedback loop!
"
The
workers
backed away from the newly activated shell as
purple and red
psionic energy lashed forth from it
as to too spoke
.
Without realizing it, as his mind was being torn in two, Maker caused the second shell to pull itself free from its containment pod.
"W-we are sorry, sir!"
"It was an accident! Someone must have brushed against the controls!"
Excuses.
"Silence!" Everyone fell silent. He let out a growl. One that was a mixture of annoyance and pain as he struggled to stabilize this madness. "Silence… I must think. How to correct this? How to sever this… connection?" As another wave of pain hit him, it subsided. He was feeling something shift deep within. That harsh pull was disappearing.
Just as he was contemplating a risky attempt at severing the connection, that pull shifted to a more neutral flow between locations. That sudden pain radiating through his main shell had nearly stopped. Just faint fatigue from it being active for so long remained. Then he felt something else.
"There is… less strain.
In this and the other.
"
He could still feel his corrupted power bit at his very being in both shells, but it didn't feel as harsh. And this included his heightened emotional state.
"Sir?"
Someone bravely interrupted.
"Shh!" He hushed them. "Something is different." In
the second shell, he pushed his way pas
t
his workers and over to a nearby scanner. Using his psionics to issue some instructions, the scanner went to work. Minutes later it was done, and he was going over the results
at
the nearby terminal.
The faintest glints of light sparkled in those void-like eyes.
"The is less strain. Just how?" It made no sense. His whole body
shuttered
. His chest began to rise and fall. Closing his eyes, his head dropped down before he suddenly threw it back and laughed. And laughed loudly like a madman. "What did you twodo?"
That shocked his workers. They had never witnessed him laugh like this and at such a sound level. Shock shifted to worry as Maker turned to look at them. He wore an equally crazed wide smile. It didn't look right on him.
"This is intriguing." He spoke. "This little mistake… may be the catalyst for finding a treatment for my condition. I thank you all. Forgive my earlier unpleasantries."
They all simply nodded and said it was fine just in case his mood flipped again.
"This opens new possibilities. My mind is in two places at once and it feels natural" He was eager to test out working with two shells active. He fully turned to his workers. "Record the
genetic template from this new shell. I must study it later
. Test it." He wondered if there was something different with this second shell that allowed this.
They immediately jumped to work.
Then he finally noticed something. "And please fetch this shell its clothes. The monitoring undersuit and whatever garbs are available." He couldn't work naked.
As the
workers
scrambled
to fulfill his orders
, Make
r
was engrossed by
this new
discovery
. He continued to run some scans to monitor how his psionics flowed within the shell.
But the scans were cut shot. He felt an unwelcome presence emerging in the room the first shell was in. "Oh, perfect timing, Angelis." He could feel his mind fully shifting its focus back to that shell.
"Raal'Maker."
Angelis spoke, calm as ever
. "Builder and Weaver of Symmetry."
He grimaced. A voice he wasn't expecting to hear from so soon. Nor a person he wanted to interact with right now. He had work to do. He didn't want to converse with one of his own.
Back in the surgery room with his old shell body, purple psionics flooded the room.
It was only Angelis who manifested just behind him.
"
Angelis
." He replied with a sharp whispered hiss. "To what do I owe this visit
so soon
?" He cast a glance over his shoulder. "I am busy fixing the mistake of one of our Brethren. Was i
t
Ga'rox? He is the jealous sort and loves to break my creations.
Correction. Former creations.
"
He was still bitter about how they ripped the project away from him to make him "focus".
"Where does this contempt arise from?" She asked. Her voice was still, but her helmet slowly cracked open. From the crack, a yellow glow appeared. "
We have not wronged you. Your focus was needed elsewhere.
"
"Oh, must you ask that?" He
questioned, but what she said next made him snap
. "
Oh, you have! That project would have greatly assisted the asset and the Network!
"
"Defiance! Arrogance!" All softness in her voice disappeared. The collective spoke with her. Psionic energy seeped through the helmet. "You have let yourself become contaminated by the humans. Corrupted by these 'shells' you experiment with
instead of doing what is needed
. You have lost sight of Our design."
"You are one to speak!" He turned to face her. A purple-red energy consumed his void-like eyes. "You dare question my work? My loyalty? After all, I have done and more correcting Your mistakes! Even in this lesser form and my worsened condition?" He sneered. "No, all you expect is perfection. Quick results. Constantly without fail."
"You daredefy me?" She hissed. The helmet fully cracked open.
Tendrils of psionic energy swirled around her.
A bolt of energy shot forth from her.
"ACK!"
Maker found his back connecting with the operation table before collapsing to the floor. Something felt like it snapped. He spat up more blood as a mass of skin on his hands blew away into dust, "Hiss all you want." He slowly picked himself up, powering through the pain. "I care not. Unless you wish to settle our differences." He grimaced not before he stuck out his arm, lashing back with a wave of his own energy.
Angelis
' form distorted as she
was thrown back
. She shrieked in pain.
"You dare strike me!?"
Her form struggled to come back together.
"I dare." He snarled. "Do you wish to continue this pointless fight? Or would you like for me to get back to my work?"
"Insolent fool." That helmet of her's opened more and more, the vibrant yellow energy grew in intensity until slammed shut. "Your insubordination…" Angelis paused, taking a moment to still herself. To lower her voice back to that false calm. " Your insubordination will not be ignored. Va'lo'Fe willhear of this."
His energy dissipated. "Noted."
He only smirked at the mention of his old mentor.
"Now, what is your progress on the Avatar Project?" Angelis asked.
"Continuing the best I can with all the interruptions." He answered. "Both friendly and hostile."
A faint growl slipped from her at the slight.
"You must hasten it."
"Hasten it?" He cocked his head
to the side
. "Hasten it? Do you realize how absolutely idiotic that sounds?" He threw his
hands
up in
the
air. "Do you know how many more specimens that would have to be processed? Do you think by hastening it we won't repeat old mistakes
? I've seen the results of those experimental off-shoots You all toy with to preserve Our 'regal' form.
"
"Do not question my orders. Hasten your research."
"Order noted." He growled.
It was pointless to talk sense.
"I see fear is slowly permeating through the Collective since the loss of the Asset. XCOM is doing an amazing job, aren't they? Especially with her back at the helm? Even with her current health all caused by your careless
—
"
"Arrogance."
The air grew heavy again as her helmet cracked out.
.
"Leave me to do my work." Maker turned his back to her. "I have arrogant mistakes to correct."
"Builder… you will have to answer for your defiance."
"I await the trial."
With one last growl, Angelis quickly left. Her form dissipated and the purple glow disappear
ed
.
The second psionic activity returned to normal, Maker let out a shaky breath before a cry of pain overtook his lungs. Legs giving out, he crashed to the floor. Another mass of flesh and muscle disintegrated, making a mound of dust on the floor. He vomited blood.
"
I've burned up the remaining life in this shell from our spat." He let out a pained chuckle. "Time to sever the connection."
Taking in several breaths to still his trembling body, he focused on the connection to this old shell. As he did, purple-red energy began to glow through his body before bursting through it. Seconds later, psionic energy-like flame consumed it until nothing but a black husk was left. One that quickly collapsed into dust.
On the other side of his facility. The mere second that shell died, he felt his find fully snap and focus on that second shell. It was fully clothed.
"Ah." He hissed. Something felt different again. And familiar. An old strain on his body. His psionics were already gnawing away at it. "That is… interesting. Seems my psioncs have changed again. Two may be a requirement."
His eye fell upon a long wall of containment capsules that continued more shells in varying states of development.
Raising a hand to his chin, he tapped away. "Hm… An active test wouldn't hurt."
Another shell is activated. That same song and dance of distortion and pain played out before everything coalesced to an equilibrium.
To sa
y
it excited Raal'Maker would have been an understatement. He was eager to work in two shells at the same time and got the second one properly dressed for him to work.
"Fascinating." Maker said. Two voices spoke softly to themselves. Himself.
He was
back in the surgery room
. Partially examining this new discovery as he prepared what he needed to operate on Cross
.
He was testing what felt "in sync" and "out of sync" as moved his tools and sterilized the room. Occasionally, as the two shells crossed paths, he couldn't help but stop and have them touch each other's face. It felt so odd.
"Like my mind is in two different places yet can act as one."
One body said as he retrieved the last surgical tools he needed.
"And then act separately."
The other continued. It left for a moment before coming back with a cart holding a medium-sized container.
"The possibilities. Endless." He grinned. "Some things to apply to the old project, if the time ever comes for it."
"Finally, back to work. Back to repairing you, my child." The first shell set the tools down in a nearby tray
by the operation table
.
"Repairing Their arrogance." The second shell
parked the cart near the first
.
Both bodies hissed as he thought of his
B
rethren
before quickly shaking that hatred from their systems
.
No need for that. He needed to focus.
The operation began shortly. Maker always preferred working his hands and not overly relying on his psionics.
"Thankfully, you were not damaged further by the… disagreement, Cross. So much to repair. First these wounds, then the arm."
Both of his shells worked to remove the armor
o
n
Cross.
As layer after layer was removed, part of him wondered how Cross still clung to life after his "combat test" with Yorrick. His Brethren must have reinforced his body.
Slowly, the armor removal shifted to one shell as the other began treating the wounds. As connection ports were revealed, he began to hook various tubes into them to feed that liquid medicine into him.
"To admit… I do grow more disillusioned
with
this cause. My mentor, Va'lo'Fe, and his associates only help it grow. And then my interaction with her and that Hidden Guide…" He spoke
his thoughts freely
. "Have we learned nothing on Our futile quest? We deserve Our fate as We are the cause of our Own folly." He softly chuckled. "How many others have We dragged down with Is? How many have We subjugated? How many have
We
destroyed?"
The heart monitor went erratic for a moment.
With a
slight wave of his hand, energy transferring over, the beat grew steady.
"Far too many." He shook his head. "Far too many. Even if humanity would be Our salvation, how long before we outgrow our new bodies? Modified them to sterility once again?" A lot was on his mind. "Would our new bodies be ready for the danger that lay ahead? It has already consumed worlds We have touched."
A slight chuckle erupted into a dry laugh. He had to
pause from
his work. "Oh, how that day changed me,
refined more of my Mentor's influences. To think
that I am now
entertaining the very thought
of rebellion more and more
each minute
." The laugh
simmered back down to chuckles
. "Oh, how I have questions for you two. So many questions when we meet again. I wonder what state you are in, Commander Reeves
and your Silent Guide?
" He mused. He hoped her health was stable after everything that had happened under the "care" of his Brethren.
"How displeased I was with how They let you waste away in that stasis suit as your mind toiled away for Us. And They
began the workings
to convert you into one of those foolish Chosen
as that rebel force XCOM was rising from the ashes once more
." A hiss escaped his lips.
Barring his teeth, purple-red energies began to manifest around both shells. The lights flickered.
His mind was slipping back to that memory. That day he found out, that mere second, he couldn't describe the rage that consumed him. H
e
sought out that hidden facility his Brethren had taken her two and put a stop to it.
"Thankfully,
after some… delicatefinesse…" Both shells scoffed. "
They listened to my
words of wisdom and returned her to my care. Even if
it
was just for a time."
He muttered and grumbled some more about that mess.
"Just a few more tweaks and They would have killed you two." The energies around them grew more and more erratic. A bolt shot out and struck the wall.
Both shells bristled.
"Control. Yourself. Maker."
Both paused from their work to take in deep breaths. It took minutes for him to push those memories away. The countless "sleepless" nights. The damage he had to fix before the Commander was ripped away from him once more. But, eventually, he took control of his damaged powers once more and they dissipated.
"I hope the work Hera'tius and I did has held well for you and your state didn't deteriorate further." He said. "That one additional gift helped stabilize and take off part of the strain you were suffering with all the information flowing th
r
ough you. But you still need work. I needed more time to purge and replace the damaged DNA. The genetic structure of a Chosen is… less than desirable… in my eyes." He had many critics for how his Brethren designed and groomed those three.
He had to pause once more as his mind drifted back to that time and could see her changed body. Halfway converted and strained.
"No, no, no." He bristled. "Back to work." He needed to focus.
"But…" One thing wouldn't leave his mind. It had been a constant bother ever since he had been called to this planet and interacted with the Commander. "I wonder if your Silent Guide has made itself more known to you now that you're once again in friend hands?" How he tried in vain to draw it from her but could only pull at faint connections still deeply intertwined with her system.
"Hidden thing… but perhaps…" There had been two ideas he had been entertaining over the years. One he kept from his Brethren. "You two have fully merged? Similar to how a Weaver interacts with another species?" But he shook his head. "No, no, no. Not enough time. Most likely your bond was severed." He nodded. "When? I can only surmise it was around the day of your capture. Why? I can only presume one of you became aware of what my Kind had in store for you. I've read one 'sacrificed' Themself to be captured. An infiltration that bore fruit in the Guide's discovery." He could only imagine the mental torment that Elder inflicted on the two to weaken their morale to convince them to stop the war and give themselves to the Elders for humanity's "best interests."
"Yes, most likely that." He nodded to himself. One he was hoping as he still wanted to draw for that Guide and meet it face-to-face.
Some more time passed before he had nearly taken care of all the wounds that plagued Cross. Minus that mangled arm.
"Wounds cleaned and closed. The Meld, as the humans call it," he chuckled at the name as it had a nice ring to it, "takes care of what is underneath and prepares you for your new gift." He remembers seeing one of Commander Reeves' memories when she was talking to two of their head scientists once they cracked those purposefully left behind capsules that miracle substance. The billions of cyber-organic nanomachines were designed to combine different organic materials with one another, or to interface both organic and mechanical elements. All near flawlessly.
"Y
our new one will be more suitable, more durable
for your role
."
One shell began to open the canister that sat on the cart they had wheeled in before the start of the operation. As it opened, mists cascaded out and down the cart.
The other
shell worked to amputate the mangled arm
leaving part of the shoulder joint attached.
Once the amputation was complete, the other shell removed a long object from the canister. It was bone white, with a slight metallic shimmer to it. The texture of it made it look like a tree branch.
"That bone tree, such a fascinating thing those Os'seous, those Kra'Seous, utilize
,
infuse their blood into it,
and
reshape it to their will." He said. "Another species we nearly ruined. But they fought us off. Them and their compatriots. A natural resilience to our 'gift'. The irony."
Reading those reports was interesting. If not for the Fragmenta eventual interference, the entire planet would have been eradicated. So much information,
and
so much DNA to study would have been lost.
"And now,"
as one shell moved away, the other laid down the
bone-like branch where
the arm once was
, "it simply needs a taste of your blood. And it will be a part of you."
A few more shifts to get the branch into place. A little more blood needed to flow. And a touch of Meld to aid the process.
As the blood flowed down onto the table and pooled around the branch, the magic began to happen. Its surface creaked and cracked as it expanded. Small, silver-blue tendril-like roots shot out and greedily consumed the blood. The color of the brach shifted back and forth from that bone white to that
orange blood
all Hybrids had
.
As it continued to consume the blood, it splintered and expanded causing more of those roots to spring forth, with several crawling towards the open wound. Once it reached the source, the roots dug into the muscle and flesh.
That heart monitor
went
erratic.
Cross'
back arched once contact was made. He groaned as his breathing grew heavier.
The
heartbeat went erratic again.
"Control it." Maker spoke.
Cross let out a cry of pain
before he began to trash about. Both shells used their psionics to restrain him lightly.
Th
ose
roots dug deeper and deeper into him.
The branch cracked and expanded more and more with each second. The flesh it dug into began to mimic the color of the branch. More branches sprung from the lower half and began to form a hand.
"Bend it to your will!"
For a few moments,
Cro
ss
continued to thrash with his back arching more and more.
Just as it seemed he would break his own back, the convulsions stop
ped
.
His body slowly relaxed. His heartbeat returned to a normal rate.
"Yes. Yes!" Maker's eyes glimmered with excitement.
As the branch slowed its growth, the roots drinking the blood retracted. The surface of the new arm peeled off repeatedly until there was a mix of chitinous plating and segments that looked fragmented like tree bark. The digits to the hand had nearly finished forming.
"Perfect. Perfect." Maker
was delighted
. "Continue to shape, cultivate it. Like a master sculpture."
As the branch continued to reshape itself, both of Maker's shells
worked to tweak the dosages of Meld and add in some additional genetic tweaks.
"
This will due. A new beginning. I will have to implant instructions for you to coin to shape that arm for I know I will not have you long."
Maker hummed as he continued his work, taking note of the changes a
s he made his psionic imprints onto Cross' mind
.
"Promising. Very promising." He noted. "But..." Raising a hand to his chin, he tapped at his lip. One shell looked at the other. They grinned. "Maybe I should finally activate that contingency plan I implanted into each Proxy before you were torn away from me? I am feeling rebellious and vindictive." They both laughed.
Raising a psionic-infused finger, he pressed it against the center of Cross' head.
"Ektrata… Ektrata…Xa'vind xo xor. So'gova'rish ill'isha'vind un xata. Votalo."
He uttered the words. Words that would take some time to go into effect.
"Ah, Hera'tius would laugh if they saw this." He thought of his Fragmenta friend. Another one that planted seeds of rebellion in his mind. Both shells laughed again.
He softly laughed. "
Ah, the p
lans.
The plans
. Oh, so many plans. Oh, what will the future hold?"
Author's Note: Os'seous and Kra'Seous are of my own creation. Not from the games or from any other works.