There was always something so magical about explosions.
Not to imply that Three believed in the supernatural (for the most part), yet, the intricate chemistry and physics did allow for some miracles, even if they weren't understood.
Such as the small beige blick of joy Three held to her chest. A demolition charge, specifically. Apparently, the Octarians called them 'plastic explosives.' For all intents and purposes, they were dense chunks of arcane chemical mystery stuff that exploded, no ink needed.
As Rebecca had revealed, even the engineers who built these bombs didn't really know how they worked; they only knew how to produce them. Rebecca wasn't sure of their origins, but Three was willing to bet her fancy NSS headgear it was old human tech. Even if that were true, she still couldn't help but enjoy it.
Humanity may have been a race of vindictive militarized bastards judging by all they've left behind (the Metro notwithstanding) but let it be said that they knew their sciences. The Octarians certainly didn't know them quite as well, and were simply riding on the coattails of this more advanced stuff.
Three affectionately petted the cute little brick of sheer destructive power. If she wasn't placing and wiring all of them up to blow this Dome, she would've probably taken one home as a souvenir. Sure, it would've been a really dangerous souvenir, but man would one of these make a great conversation starter.
Speaking of conversations…
The walk to grab the bombs was an awkward one, what with Three's broken leg, Four's nervous blabbering, and that Octoling's… well, she wasn't really sure what the Octoling was feeling. She'd gotten real quiet since the Stranger took off.
They'd all been within inches of death, and the Stranger was still afoot, even if they'd all watched them ditch the charger and bolt into the complex of hallways surrounding the Dome. Now, there was a thick air of unease everywhere they went. Sure, the Stranger probably wasn't armed anymore, but they'd all watched the squit that freak pulled off.
She was confident they could take them now, even after everything. But, even then…
Without a Respawner, the risk involved in finishing the bastard skyrocketed.
Three would have to sit back and let Four and the Octoling try their luck, and… ordering them to their probable deaths twisted her guts askew. She had always been hands-on when it came to missions; she wasn't like the Captain, she simply couldn't trust anyone else to do a proper job. Much less putting others on the chopping blocks just because she couldn't do it.
They needed to finish this all, quickly. If they did, perhaps all that potential messy business could be avoided.
And, it seemed they were almost done. Four and Rebecca had finished placing the last of the explosives on the skeletal supports level with the floor.
The thing about these Domes was that they were extremely sturdy; A quirk most human made things seemed to possess, now that she thought about it. Or, only their more durable remnants survived this long? The point being, these places weren't easy to destroy, even with the right tools. You had to know where to strike.
In this case, they'd elected to drop the floor out from beneath them. The hole left behind by the Respawner revealed one very interesting quirk about this place - the metal floor was suspended above a void of sorts, going down Cod knows how many meters down to Cod-knows-what. Perhaps an underground river, if the roar of rushing water was to be believed. So, for all intents and purposes, death.
With no other routes out of here except through the main access elevator, they'd all decided that taking out the floor would at least deny the Stranger access to that, and Three would push to have the NSS make sure that collapsed surface access point was the only potential access point.
If all went well, the Stranger would be completely and utterly trapped within the Dome, forced to sit around until they died of starvation or something. Either that, or they'd decide to take the plunge into the void down below, finding out what's down there at terminal velocity.
While it was a morbid fate, it was one Three felt was deserved. Everybody had almost died, or in that Octoling's commanding Elite's case, actually died. Permanently.
Nobody deserved that fate. Not even Octarians.
Three set her explosive charge down with a huff, before turning to the access elevator's control panel. While Four and Rebecca had been setting their charges, she'd been stuck with 'figure out the elevator' duty.
It took her a minute to figure out the controls, since for some insane reason the humans that built this place didn't use a normal control scheme for their elevators. You'd think that a simple call button would suffice, but she was having to sit and tap at some little touchscreen that barely worked.
"Uh, Three?"
Four and Rebecca had returned, Rebecca holding the Zapfish from the Octostomp and power stations (meaning they were running on residual power now), while Four awkwardly cradling something bulky-looking in her arms.
"Gimme a sec, Four. Almost…" Three started.
BEEP! The panel flashed green, and a mechanical grinding filled the air.
"...got it! Elevator's on its way. I think." she said, turning to Four.
Her eyes immediately fell on what was in her fellow Agent's hands.
"You might wanna take a look at this." Four said, tepidly.
In her hands was a long, white charger, cracked and partially melted. The Stranger's weapon, to be precise. Three snatched it from Four's hands.
It was heavy, that was what she first noticed. The aura it gave off, one of death and madness, was what she felt next. But, why would they drop it? It seemed to be broken, yes, but why abandon it just like that? It still lit up, still looked like it worked? It didn't fit with what she'd seen of them. Or, maybe it did. She honestly couldn't tell.
Despite the damage, holding it felt… familiar, for lack of a better word. Her hands found the controls with ease, things she'd never seen even the most militarized ink weapons have, and yet they felt so strangely familiar to her.
Her Metro gift kicked in again, phrases and words dancing around at the back of her mind. Some she didn't understand, others she could piece together, and some…
- magazine release MRX Watatsumi SmartLink interface pad recoil mitigation mode switch -
Three shook her head, snapping from her little trance. She had to take this with her. If not to keep out of the wrong hands, then to see just exactly what this thing was. As much as she loathed having to work with the little crab man, she knew Sheldon was going to have a coddamn field day working with this thing.
Right on cue, the elevator clattered to a halt, touchpad playing a little warbly jingle from its tinny speakers.
All that was left to do now was leave.
For once, things were going exactly as planned, and it was driving Rebecca mad.
If there was one lesson this whole debacle had hammered into her, plans simply didn't go as planned. If something could go wrong, it would, and the stress from that fact was astronomical.
She and the two Agents had embarked on the freight elevator, and even as it slowly rose, her nerves refused to still.
If something were to go pear shaped, this would be the last opportunity. The tension was killing her; they were standing in the silence of the drowning, metallic grinding elevator, just waiting. She would rather be doing something, anything, instead of relying on this old rusty platform to deliver them.
If things were to go wrong, she wanted to be in control.
Her foot unconsciously tapped, a cocktail of anxiety and impatience.
Taptaptaptaptaptap-
The little Zapfish in her arms squirmed uncomfortably, sensing her anxiety. Small whorls of electricity snapped from its body, sending small shocks through her, and even arcing to the others.
Suffice to say, Three didn't appreciate it.
"Will you stop stressing the zapfish out?" she barked, her now familiar glare of annoyance disgracing Rebecca once more. Unfortunately for Three, she had grown resistant to it.
As such, she didn't bother censoring herself. "Sorry, this is just going all too…" Rebecca sputtered, thinking for a word, "...smoothly?"
Three went to respond, but was cut off by Four, "You're feeling that too?"
Rebecca nodded, "Yeah! It's like… I dunno, something has to go wrong." One of her hands went to a hip, contemplative. "Like, I know-"
"You know that there's really nothing that can," Three finished her statement, her tone bored. "All that's left to do is get out of here, blow the charges, and then go home."
Rebecca blinked. Weren't they forgetting-
"Oh, and deal with you too."
Yep. There it was.
Four must have noticed her uneasy expression, because she spoke up, "Don't worry about Three, she's just grumpy. Always is. You'll be okay."
"That… doesn't help," Rebecca mumbled. While the three of them had cooperated well so far, they were still enemies at the end of the day. And after the threat of the Stranger was gone, who knew how quickly this arrangement would collapse? She wasn't one to believe these two were honorable fighters, despite how they may have acted here.
Thepoint being, this relationship was tenuous at best.
And as the elevator platform picked up speed, albeit slowly, it was one that would be ending soon.
"About damn time…" Three muttered, sounding quite relieved, a relief that Rebecca couldn't help but share. This was almost over, only a scant few minutes of waiting stood in the way.
Yet, if anything were to go wrong, now would be the time.
But, as the elevator finally began ascending quicker than a snail's pace, nothing did. Nothing was wrong.
"See?" Three spoke, breaking the monotony. "Nothing to worry about."
As if on cue, Rebecca saw it. The unavoidable hiccup.
Even though the lift had risen quite high up now, she could still see the Dome's interior, as if she were a bird looking down. And, as a result, she caught sight of the big metal door down on the ground level opening. Red light spilled from the entrance, a figure casting a shadow on the floor before the door.
A small thrill of fear ran through her sternum, and judging by the gasp of Four, she wasn't the only one. Even Three paled slightly.
It was the Stranger, stepping out into the light.
And yet, as she looked closer, the fear faded to a dull throb, then dissipated. Their only real weapon, that charger, was in the hands of Three. They couldn't do anything to her little group. Not anymore.
But there was something else; something about them was… off.
Not appearance wise, exactly, but something much more integral. Their back was hunched, movement sluggish. They aimlessly wandered, directionless, occasionally stopping to look around. She swore they gave off an aura of exhaustion and… grief?
Rebecca still hated the enigmatic figure, but it still proved to be a somber sight. Aside from this development, she wasn't sure if they noticed her, or the agents, or even the elevator. But why?
Why were they like this?
What happened to them in the Complex?
...did she really care, though?
…
Not really, now that she gave it some thought.
Evidently, Three agreed.
Rebecca could only stare, barely comprehending what was happening. Like a bad dream, she watched as Three brought the Stranger's charger to bear, dropping to a knee and bracing it on the elevator platform's railing.
"What are you doing!?" Four whispered, her tone panicked.
"Finishing them off." Three sternly spoke. "If our weapons couldn't kill it, maybe their own can." With strangely practiced motions, she fiddled with several controls on the charger, lining up the digital crosshair in the scope with the Stranger's back.
Rebecca couldn't help but hear an uncomfortable, unstable hum, punctuated by sparks and small arcs of electricity slipping through the plastic barrel's cracks.
She shied back, unease returning in full force, "Are you sure that's safe?"
Three shrugged, "Probably. They used it plenty."
"Uh… I have to agree with the Octoling," Four admitted. "I-I'm no weapons expert, but that thing miiight explode."
Rebecca was by no means an engineer, yet she had to agree. That weapon was far from stable, especially now. Who knew what would happen if Three fired it?
It might've been worth it if they still had a respawner around, but death was still a real threat. Even if the charger didn't explode, who knew how much more damaged it could become? Her inner soldier yearned to take it apart and learn of its secrets, despite its horrifying nature. In a strange way, that aspect only heightened her curiosity.
Three didn't budge, "It's worth the risk," she said, adamantly. "Trust me."
Rebecca balked. "But why? Blowing the charges once we're gone will accomplish the same thing!"
"And you don't want to be sure they're dead? I'm not gonna leave this to chance."
"I-" she sputtered. "Y-you'll be killing someone!"
The moment the thought slipped through her lips, the reality of their situation hit her. They were going to actually be killing someone. As much as it was deserved, it made her feel queasy. What was wrong with her?
"Yeah. I know."
Rebecca took a step back, a thread of unease weaving through her. W-What was wrong with Three? Why were her eyes glowing like that?
"That…" Three started, an unintelligible guttural curse then leaving her mouth. "That ██████ is not one of us! They almost killed us for Cod's sake! I'm not lettin' them leave this place alive."
Rebecca found herself transfixed by Three's glare. Glowing teal eyes bored into her soul, questioning her very existence. Judging her.
"You wanna stop me? You can try it. That piece of squit's going down regardless of you wanting to suddenly be its friend or not."
There wasn't much Rebecca could say to that. It was just cold.
Yet, she could understand. Whatever the Stranger was… she didn't know. They were like nothing she had ever encountered, no species, no person matched. And, after everything they had done, they needed to be put down. It killed her on the inside to realize it, yet, they couldn't be permitted to live.
It was a bitter truth to swallow, but that was all it was. The truth.
She backed off, timidly motioning for Three to go on.
As Three lined up the shot, Rebecca turned to watch the Stranger as the lift ascended higher and higher. They were looking about despondently, slowly edging along the hole where the Respawner had once been, almost as if it were subconscious. What was going through their head?
An electronic whine filled the air. Now or never, Three.
She blinked.
CRACK!
An unnatural scream. She caught a glimpse of the Stranger falling through the floor. Were they hit? The screaming continued, slowly fading into nothing. Next to her, Three cursed at the weapon, dropping it. It's all-pervading hum had fallen silent, thin streaks of molten metal spilling from the barrel. Why was it melting!?
And then, her view of the Dome was cut off. They rose in the dark, surrounded by stone and the dim light of ancient safety lamps. And before long, the elevator finally ground to a halt. The elevator itself was open to the outside, built into a particularly large, tree covered hill, a fact that she had failed to appreciate in the past.
Now, Rebecca could smell the night air, see the moon, the stars.
It was a sight she thought she would never see again. She took in a deep breath of the cold, rich air. It made her feel alive, like she had been given a new lease on life.
In a way, she had been.
A wide grin had grown over Four's face, and even Three had cracked a small smile at the sight. For once, it was truly quiet. No mechanical grinding nor the cacophony of machinery; just wind through the leaves. Never had nature been so welcoming.
"And now, we finish this," Three intoned. Without much fanfare, she retrieved the detonator from her belt, fiddled with the device to arm it, and then flipped the switch.
For all the explosives they planted down there, Rebecca had expected an earth shattering blast, yet, only the quiet rumbling of the earth could be felt, which dissipated quickly. Was that it?
Once again, they were left standing in the silent night.
"That was… disappointing." Rebecca finally stated, breaking the silence. Truly, what else could she say? They had planted enough explosives to level a small city, there should have been more upheaval! Turmoil!
Anticlimactic, that was what it was.
"I mean, were you hoping for an earthquake or somethin'?" Four asked, "It would have been awesome, but-" Four's sharp gaze shot to something behind Rebecca, causing her to trail off.
"Where the shell have you all been?! I've been trying to radio you two for, like, hours now!"
Someone was approaching from the tree line. Someone wearing sunglasses and a pink beanie. Despite how, simply put, unprofessional the attire was, it still sent a tremor of dread through her.
She recognized the clothing. The dark, carefully folded tentacles.
Agent One. The first.
And she did not look happy.
Looking back on it all, the whole situation had been surreal.
"...and that's pretty much everything that happened, ma'am." Rebecca finished, her throat dry and scratchy. Even in the weakly shining morning sun, she still felt… cold. Worn out. Tired.
Her long winded explanation was met with silence from the Inkling in front of her. Agent Two, to be specific. The combination of white tentacles tucked into a cap, the surgical mask, and jacket was unmistakable; another demon in her society, and one who was different than she expected.
They were all going to turn out this way, weren't they? All different, all unique in their own strange ways?
At this point, she found herself very much missing the rigidity of military life.
After being picked up by Agent One the previous night, things got hazy, for lack of a better term. She remembered yelling, arguments, bluffs shouted from all sides, then stumbling through the dark forest. A car ride, herself packed between two Agents in the back seat of a silent car, the air thick with tension.
As a consequence, Rebecca may or may not have had a small panic attack when she woke up this morning.
For one, waking up in an unfamiliar, cramped shack, barely lit by the early rays of the sun was quite the shock. Doubly so when on the opposite cot was Agent Four, fast asleep. Even without her weapon and armor, sprawled out on the cot like an undisciplined recruit, her deep-set fear of the Agents still remained.
Being stared down by Agent Two, who had been watching her sleep, did not help at all.
After that very totally minor freakout, she found herself sitting at a small table overlooking Octo Canyon, talking to the First Agent over a pot of steaming coffee. Back home, coffee had been reserved for those of importance, not the rank and file like her. Were they trying to flatter her?
Today was going to be another strange day. If nothing else, the coffee helped, even if it was a failed attempt to put her at ease.
"So," Agent Two spoke up, lowering her coffee cup, replacing it with a clipboard. "To recap, the Octarians found this new Dome due to that mystery signal we've been tracking, right?"
Rebecca gave it a moment of thought, chewing on her lip as she did so, "When you say 'mystery signal', are you referring to the SOS signal from the Dome?" It was clearly an automated distress signal, so why would she call it a mystery?
"The other signal, I mean. The preceding one. The signal that caused all of the Domes to emit the 'SOS' signals." Two sighed, her brows furrowed. "I swear, if I have to manage any more signals… Cod, I'm going to pop an ink vessel. Anyway-"
"Wait…" The realization hit Rebecca hard. "There was another signal? Was that why the emergency systems back home freaked out?"
As she gave it more thought, the more the pieces fit together. Literally a day after the havoc of all their Dome's human-made systems screaming out for help, they were sent to secure the new Dome. She knew the timing of everything was too coincidental. She hadn't given the cause of it any real thought, yet, this explanation seemed a bit…
"There's… more to it than just that." Two briefly considered how to explain it. "The signal's origin is, let's just say, complicated. What we do know is that the place it came from is now destroyed."
That was… interesting to know, "How was it destroyed?" She was tempted to ask just where exactly it came from, but she was already pushing her luck.
"Classified." Two responded, tersely. "Back to your story. You said you were sent to the Dome with an expeditionary unit, correct?"
Rebecca nodded, deep in thought. "Right. We secured it easily, brought in everything we needed without alerting anyone."
Two raised an eyebrow.
"Fine, without alerting anyone but you Agents. It took some work, but-"
Two cut her off, "I appreciate the detail, but could you get to the intruder, this 'Stranger' individual? You glossed over them before."
"You mean the gray-suited guy, right?"
"Yeah. Did anything about them stand out to you?"
Rebecca let out an annoyed sigh. "If you insist.." she said as she bit her lip, thinking. "Well… I don't think they were either an Inkling or an Octoling, if that makes sense."
Two mulled it over, before finally asking, "What do you mean?"
As the memories from the past night came back, she shivered. "They were strong, overwhelmingly so. Tough, too. Only a Stingray could stop them, and even then, it wasn't enough. No one, no matter what equipment they were using could have survived what we threw at them. I've never seen anything like them; they just defy everything I know."
Her speech gained intensity, "They killed our leader, Dirk, and almost me as well. They… t-they wanted to kill me specifically. I almost got them, but…"
Her words had dried up.
"Say no more, I understand." the Agent said, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's a miracle you all got out alright, both you and the Agents as well as everybody else from your unit."
"Y-yeah. Thanks, ma'am."
Two set her clipboard off to the side, nodding. "With that, I think we can talk about you now."
"Me?"
"Yes." Two sat back in her seat, contemplative. "As I'm sure you're aware, your position here is quite… unique." That was one way of putting it.
"You don't need to remind me, ma'am. I was promised that I would be let go after this debriefing was over with, though." Rebecca shot back, defensive. It wasn't in her nature to be so confrontational and sharp, yet when it came to her freedom, she took no chances.
"We keep our promises, Rebecca. Once we're done here, you're free to go." Marie waved her concern away. "Well. Minus some stipulations, of course. There's some… operational security things we'd like you to help us with."
"Three said that too, what does that even mean?"
Two sighed, before delicately continuing, "We still want to remain in contact with you after this." Rebecca went to retort, but was again cut off by Two. "And no, it isn't because we don't trust you."
"Then why, ma'am?" She asked. She fully knew that the Agents wouldn't let her off the hook so easily, yet, this was a strange request. No claim to spy on her, just keep in touch. Like shell they wouldn't be keeping an eye on her, though.
"Well…" Two fidgeted, searching for the right words. "While the business with that Dome is over now, there are some… Stranger-related loose ends we're working on taking care of up here. Seeing as you've got the most experience with them, we'd appreciate having you nearby just in case we need assistance with them."
So they wanted her for what she knew?
"That's it?" Rebecca asked, tepidly. "You just want me on call to talk about them? With all due respect, ma'am, they're dead."
Two nodded, "Even though they're dead now, there's… well, just in case we need to check on a few details, having you on call would be useful."
"...I suppose that makes sense," she muttered, "I mean, I probably am the best source of information you have."
Could she use that as a bargaining chip?
Two rolled her eyes, "Try not to get ahead of yourself, Rebecca. You're not vital to our ops here, you're just an advisor of sorts for us." She stretched back in her seat, grabbing her clipboard as she did so. "By the way, there's one last thing we need to discuss."
"And that is?"
"Technically, it's less of a discussion and more of an offer," she said, setting the clipboard down in her lap. "To keep you nearby, we're prepared to offer you a new home."
"A… a what?" Rebecca asked, somewhat in disbelief.
"Citizenship, away from the Octarian civilization. There's a church we can funnel you through, everything will be taken care of. If you accept, you'll be housed in Inkopolis, where you'll be safe from Octarian or Stranger reprisals."
Even though Agent Two had said as much about three times now, Rebecca still couldn't wrap her head around it. Yet, she was beginning to grasp exactly what she was being offered, and to be frank, it sort of offended her.
"Why do you think I want that, Agent?" She rebutted, anger entering her voice. "I'm not going to just uproot my life like that! I have friends back home, family!"
How dare they insult her like this! Sure, life back home wasn't perfect, but for them to act like their own city was better?! The nerve!
"Yeah… about that," the Agent sighed, a reluctant tone in her voice. "I'm sorry to break this to you, but you're… well, there isn't any delicate way to say this…"
"Spit it out!"
"You're probably considered dead, and if you go back, you'll most likely be branded a traitor." she glumly stated. "You could try your luck, but I doubt it'd end well. If you went back now, they would know you had cooperated with us to do so."
"L-Like you would know!" Rebecca shot back, furious.
They wouldn't just turn on her like that! She would go back, explain the situation, they would listen, then things would go back to normal!
Two sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. We knew someone who tried to, but they've… Things didn't work out, let's just say that."
"Lies! You lie!"
"Rebecca, we don't have any reason to lie to you." Two tiredly stated. "I know how you feel about Inkopolis, about us, and frankly, I don't blame you. But, I need you to know that if you go back, your life's not going to be the same."
She leaned in, gold eyes meeting Rebecca's own.
"After all you've just been through, I don't want to see you imprisoned, or executed, or tortured, or Cod-knows-what they'd do to you down there. You deserve better than that."
Rebecca wasn't sure whether it was the words, the tone, the look, or all three somehow, but her resolve toppled, the fire in her doused in a sudden sense of worry. Carefully, she thought it over.
...
Two might be right.
And… she didn't know how to feel about that. In a strange way, she couldn't even entertain the thought. It was one that she couldn't process. Not all at once. It shook at a fundamental core of her being.
Perhaps that was a blessing.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Two sighed.
She was sincere, yet equally, naive.
...but, was she really? Naive, Rebecca meant. Who better than an Agent to know about her society? Rebecca was sure they wouldn't turn on her, rock solid, yet, Two's grim prognosis of her chances put a chip in it.
She… didn't know what to think. She thought it over further.
"I still have to try, ma'am." Rebecca finally said. "I… I can't accept your offer."
To say Three hated hospitals would be nothing short of an understatement. They were too clean and sterile, as if they were hiding something sinister. The facade had never sat well with her, and on top of how many times she had needed to visit in the past, hospitals had become a symbol of failure for her. No, more of, a place where she was sent in the event of failure.
On the other hand, her stay could have been so much worse this time around.
She was stretched out on a hospital bed, wearing an equally drab gown. Her leg was bandaged within a splint, as well as supported by a small blanket stack. An unfortunate situation. On the brightside, she had an IV drip feeding painkillers into the crook of her arm, so she was feeling pretty good right about now.
Having friends in high places certainly did pay. Pay her medical pills, they did. Even with the stipend she got from the Squid Sisters for her duties, this was far above what she could afford.
Due to her… unique status, she had been admitted to a small, private hospital for the rich, frequented by folks like her superiors. A few calls and favors later, she was admitted in and given the royal treatment, as much as it could be called that in the medical world. While Three wasn't one who appreciated the so-called 'two tier system' when it came to wealth, being on the favorable end of it for a change was quite nice.
Who didn't like a bit of pampering from time to time?
…well, as much as you could be pampered in a hospital.
Regardless, after their last mission, she had certainly earned it. And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about the hellish events from the previous night.
She wasn't one that was shaken easily, yet, the events played nonstop in her head. Scenarios, for instance; what could have changed if the variables were tweaked. And, looking back, she was lucky to still be alive.
The respawner. The damned respawner was the lynchpin in all of this.
Like the crutches she would undoubtedly be using for a while now, the respawners too had become one she leaned on. Something she took for granted.
How often had she taken risks with the assumption she could cheat death? Because, really, what had she been thinking back in the Dome? Running on instincts was well and good, but when those same instincts were built on a flawed base, could she really trust them?
If nothing else, she had plenty of time to think this revelation over. An odd blessing, she supposed, or would it be silver linings?
Or, rather, it would be, if it wasn't for her visitor. One who was waiting for her to wake up, the creep. Said creep had been sitting by her bedside for roughly fifteen minutes now, sighing and fidgeting.
Why did it have to be Callie?
It was easy enough to tell, even in her feigned sleep. Callie had always had a specific sound she made while breathing, a kind of energetic, overeager breath. It was surprisingly distinct. Not to mention the perfume. And they gave her hell for when it came to body odor. At least she didn't have to constantly wear the ghastly stuff.
But, she was getting beside herself. It was Callie here, not Marie. In her four or five years of service, she had learned a few things about the cousins, one important thing being Callie's disposition. Her emotions always ran high, in contrast to her cousin's.
Three knew this wouldn't end well. Yet, this was going to happen one way or another. There wasn't any point in putting it off.
Internally, she sighed, then opened her eyes, yawning slightly. A good performance.
Callie didn't waste any time.
"Good morning Avanna, how are you feeling?" She crooned in a sickly sweet voice. Three, or Avanna to some, knew that tone.
She was so dead.
As she had learned, Callie was the one who gave dressing downs to those under her. Marie was a master of the guilt trip, while Callie was… a bit more impassioned and direct. Well, as direct as a professional agent could be. Three could say without any shame that Callie scared her on a metaphysical level.
"I'm… doing alright." Avanna said, maintaining a cool mask of neutrality. She couldn't let Callie smell her unease, the emotional piranha she was. It would only prove to worsen the coming storm.
"Ah, good, good!" Callie grimly smiled. "You really did take a lot of knocks last night."
"That's one way of putting it."
Yeah… one way…
Callie continued, unperturbed. "It's good to see that you're on the mend, but that's not exactly why I'm here."
She knew it! She knew it!
Avanna dropped her facade, "I know… everything that happened last night was a breach of protocol. Please, just get to the point." She didn't have enough painkillers in her IV drip for this. Better to rip the bandaid off. It may have been rude, but at this point, she didn't care.
And in response, Callie's own facade fell as well, revealing the smoldering anger from last night. "This is what we're worried about, Avanna. You can't keep doing this."
Before Avanna could respond, Callie continued. "Flaunting orders, protocols- shell, last night could have been avoided entirely if you had called me before going into that Dome! Do you know how worried I was!?" She was lost in her rage, nay, she was embracing it.
That was the thing about Callie. Her emotions ran high at all times. All of her emotions.
Thus, it was her job to dress people down. Though, this room must have been sound-proofed; Callie wouldn't dare go off like this in public, especially considering the nature of why she did so. Then again, they had put her in this hospital for a reason. Were the staff in on the whole Agent business, now that she thought about it?
Avanna said nothing in response. Callie's anger would run its course. Then, she could try to cool her down.
"-I know you want to take the initiative, but really, you've become reckless and-"
And it seemed that said anger would run on for quite a while.
…
About an hour later, Three finally decided to tune back in.
"-so what do you have to say for yourself?!" Callie huffed, taking a deep breath. Her face was as red as a tomato, and her relentless panting only contributed to the image of spent anger.
Finally, she was finished.
"...I was doing what I thought was best." Avanna said, regaining her neutral mask. "It fell through at the Dome, yes, but it was a mistake, nothin' more."
"This isn't just about the Dome." Callie's tone regained heat. "You're an amazing agent, yes, but you have to realize, you're not infallible!"
"Of course I know tha-"
"And yet, you act as if you are! This is what I'm getting at, Avanna!" Callie ranted. "You think you have yourself figured out, yet, you still act as if you're invincible!"
"But-"
Callie cut her off yet again, hands on her hips. "Listen, this injury of yours could be a learning experience."
"Is that-"
"I'm not done! I know it sounds harsh, but you really aren't fit for any missions right now, and perhaps this time could be used constructively."
Avanna, for one, felt rather insulted. Callie was just brushing her off her broken leg as nothing more than a 'learning experience!' Did she not know what they went through down there? She already had accepted the flaw in her instincts, learned her lesson!
But, she didn't show any of this. Best not to give Callie any more - ammunition. -
Squit, I hope she didn't see my eyes glow.
"...what were you thinking?" she said, tone as neutral as she could make it.
"Well, that weapon you brought back, Sheldon has been fawning over it. Buuuut, he might need a bit of help examining it. And… who better than you?"
"Sheldon?"
"Yeah!"
They knew. She was being set up. This was her punishment for disregarding authority. They knew she hated Sheldon. And what better punishment than forcing her to work under him?
She was going to kill them.
"Uh? Avanna, you alright?"
The only answer Callie received was a verbal tirade of utterly filthy language.
Captain Cuttlefish, despite his age, still was quite sharp. Sure, his mind may have been prone to wandering, but when push came to shove he had the eyes of the rare and elusive eagle. Well, sometimes.
At the moment, he was sitting at his desk in his small Octo Valley home, working at his old computer. Covering the small, dirty desk were wrappers and plates that once held food, alongside a collection of photographs, all taken from the beginning of this mess. Specifically, from the incident at the destroyed facility, even before the new Dome was discovered.
The two events were connected, he would bet his right heart on it, but to what extent?
He'd scanned through the footage of the facility battle on his computer, the file having been recovered from one of the splatted government agents' body cameras. For what he was thinking, he needed a refresher.
The team disembarked from their pickup truck, shooters and ink tanks at the ready. A quick moment to bring the portable Respawner online and sync their anchors, and they set to work.
A metal door, surrounded by concrete and inlaid into the side of a mountain, weathered by time and the elements. Several minutes of angle grinding later, and the door was wrenched open, the locking mechanisms having been sawed open.
He skipped a few times, past images of derelict hallways and barely lit rooms. Then, suddenly:
The team lead swore as the entire room he was in lit up red, emergency lighting strips along the ceiling illuminating the space in an ominous glow. An alarm sounded, dull and distorted with age and disuse.
Suddenly, another agent came sprinting down the hall towards him, visibly panicking.
"Where's Milt? Where's Milt?!" he cried, skidding to a halt in front of the cameraman.
"I thought he was with you? What happened?" the cameraman replied, shakily.
"I don't know! One minute we were looking at power stuff, the next he… D-Do you- do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"T-That!" the panicked agent shouted, shaking.
The two of them listened for a moment, and just barely, over the din of the alarm and the ambient thrum of the facility…
They could hear screaming.
Just as quickly as they first heard it, the screams died down, guttural utterances fading away into the blaring of alarms and rumbling of machinery.
"...what the shell was that?" the cameraman spoke, after a moment.
Before the other agent could reply, a great and terrible CRACK rung out, and the man before him disappeared in a flash of orange-red flame, fire engulfing the space.
The cameraman barely had time to react, turning towards their newfound assailant only to meet the same fate.
Craig stopped the footage, fiddling with the controls to catch a particular frame, one he'd printed out and handed to his Agents.
A figure in angular, baggy armor, wreathed in flame.
To say he was disturbed was an understatement - to see permanent deaths even to this day still yanked at his frail old psyche like no other, but he had to keep it together. When his Agents' lives were on the line, he couldn't break down now. Not after all that he'd seen and done.
Moving the still video of the first 'Stranger' encounter to the side, he brought up the headset camera footage of Three and Four's battle at the Dome.
A dark hallway, lit only barely by a dim flashlight.
Three and Four bickered, if but for a moment - for an immensely loud BANG ripped through the space. A flash lit up half the screen, a support structure in the tunnel being struck by the Stranger's weapon.
Then, the world collapsed around them.
Craig had already seen this part of the footage, seen the blurry shape of the Stranger lit up by a surprised Three's flashlight. Nothing was conclusive there, as utter pandemonium consumed them both.
A few more skips, and the footage changed to inside the Dome proper.
Three sprinted at the Stranger, catching them off guard with two bombs before tackling them to the ground with Four's help.
The two of them struggled, Three having the upper hand until the Stranger somehow overpowered her, wrapping both hands around the Agent's neck and squeezing as hard as they could.
It pained him so much to watch this again. To see one of his Agents so viciously brutalized by this strange individual. But, if he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, he had to watch.
Four ambushed the Stranger, managing to get them off of Three. Just then, Three watched as Four crashed to the ground in front of her, quickly followed up by the Stranger knocking her unconscious with a kick to the head.
Just as quickly, Three was on the ground, the Stranger's charger up and about to splat her. Four cried out, trying to buy her time, but in the end…
He paused. Right now, he didn't have the heart to see Three's cartilage snapped again.
A still image of the new Stranger filled the video player, and he shakily moved it off to the side to compare with the footage from the ill-fated facility explorers.
He looked between the two still frames on his cramped monitor, over and over again. It was difficult to tell, but… they weren't the same. The differences were hard to see, especially with the dubious quality of both their cameras, yet, his old eyes could see enough.
The Stranger from the facility was clad in angular black-ish red armor, shoulder pads and a chestpiece over a dark jumpsuit. They wore no helmet, a head of what seemed to be done-up hair instead in its place. Just barely, he could make out facial features. A face, a nose. Eyes, dimly reflecting the fire around them.
The Dome Stranger was much different, wearing a gray jumpsuit made with some kind of rubbery substance, like a hazmat suit. No body armor was apparent, the only sort of equipment they wore being a helmet and a backpack. Their face was concealed behind a mask, two opaque lenses where he figured eyes would be.
They weren't the same Stranger, that much Craig knew.
As much as it was distressing to think… were there two Strangers running around?
Cod, help us.
He was falling.
…
Of course he was. This was his punishment, after all.
Of course they knew to grab his gun. They didn't hit, but a supersonic coilgun slug rending reality asunder mere inches from his feet was just enough to send him over the edge.
Now, here he was, plummeting to his inevitable demise in an inky black void.
At least he wouldn't know when he'd hit the ground. A fitting end for a moron like him.
'So ends the life and times of… well... He whiffed each and every single possible chance at saving his species, and will be rightfully forgotten at the bottom of a mysterious bottomless pit built into a Japanese mountain.'
He could almost hear it now, past the rushing wind.
Laughter. The souls of the damned, giggling at him from the afterlife.
Polaris employees shitting on him from Heaven's break room, wondering how and why the warden AI thought a scrawny American guy was the best hope for humanity after the Flood.
He could almost hear Great Uncle, laughing that real wheezy laugh of his. He could almost hear him admonishing him from his watery grave, at that compound of his he had out in the Plains.
"Don't'cha feel silly? A little stupid, perhaps?"
He did.
"Don't you feel a little ashamed?"
Very.
"You better be, kiddo. I ain't bailing you outta this one. Not this time."
He didn't expect him to. He didn't expect anyone to.
"That's right. You better hope ol' Lady Luck's still on your side, 'cause nobody's gonna save you from what's comin' next."
I'm sorry I couldn't have been better, Pops.
Just then, the void began to fade away. Lights flashed past, old LEDs casting garish white light into the great concrete shaft he was tumbling down.
The bottom was in sight, a rushing river of incomprehensible breadth.
So, this was it, huh.
A final breath. Then, he shut his eyes.
Bring it.
…
.
On that night, deep beneath the abandoned Shelters and bustling cities of the Earth above, the Metro gained another lost soul.
/ REWRITE A/N: /
Hey-hey people, Falk here.
Hoo boy, we're in for it now, aren't we? Our hapless protagonist has just had the consequences of his actions rather rapidly catch up to him, and he's now on an express ticket to a Hell of a distinctly Slavic origin.
I'm clarifying this now, because regardless of how the rewrites adjusted this sequence it'd still be hard to tell: Polarisguy (working name) is not dead.
Piston's got a lot of complaints that the fic was going to suck because people thought he outright killed the protagonist, and while the next couple of chapters will suck for entirely different reasons, let it be known that our human being dead is not one of them.
Granted, when I read the original way back, I thought Polarisguy was shot in the back, but the fic on AO3 wasn't tagged Major Character Death so I knew this guy was going to make it. Regardless, people were still real confused, so hopefully that new little ending bit at least helps. Or gives closure. Hell if I know, honestly. I just rewrite stuff.
With that clarification out of the way, I don't really have anything to say other than we hope you enjoyed this last Dome chapter, and hopefully you'll want to stick around for the next major arc of Act 1…
Which I can't say the name of because it'll spoil new readers! So, instead, I'll turn this over to 2021 Piston for his real short author's notes. Have a good one!
/ PISTON REWRITE A/N: /
It was monumentally stupid on my end to pretend he died. I apologize for that. That was never the plan, it was just a prank bro.
/ ORIGINAL A/N: /
Another chapter down, and so much for getting this written in a month. I keep forgetting that these chapters are difficult to write, but in a completely different way. Though, hopefully the wait was worth it. After all, we're finally done with the Dome Shenanigans! Rejoice! We can finally focus on other things now! Though, this isn't becoming to complicated and contrived, right?
The plans have been laid down, and hopefully, they won't disappoint. Thank you for reading and reviewing, and see you next chapter!