XCOM: The Advent Directive

by Xabiar

Australia has been annexed, the United Nations is in chaos, the world is under siege and the Ethereals have taken the field. Facing the full might of the Ethereal Collective, the Commander must rally XCOM, the newly formed ADVENT, and several other allies and rivals to unite the divided nations by any means necessary, for failure now will mean the fall of humanity once and for all.

21. The Coming Storm

The Coming Storm

---

The Praesidium, Research Labs

Sierra had recently realized that there was still quite a bit of the Praesidium that she wasn't familiar with, beyond the training rooms, armories, and barracks. Science and engineering had never been of much interest to her, but now being with XCOM several months, she did have to admit she was curious about some of the stuff going on behind the scenes.

These people were making the stuff that was keeping them alive after all; might not hurt to go down and see some of the process.

The general labs were open to everyone; it was only a few areas that were actually restricted. Of course, those were the interesting ones, which if Sierra recalled, were the genetic labs. It was quite possible this was due to biohazards, but Sierra suspected it was because XCOM was doing stuff that wouldn't exactly be looked upon favorably.

As to what that could entail…well, she could imagine quite a bit.

She did feel quite a bit out of place as she walked through the labs in her regular fatigues, but the scientists working didn't seem to care about her, and kept working at their stations. XCOM had fully embraced a fusion of alien and Human tech, using devices that she'd never seen before with large running computers. Hologram and haptic displays were also used prominently, with them portraying genetic sequences, biological data, and other stuff she didn't bother to try and puzzle out.

Sierra stopped as something caught her eye. It was a hologram recreation of what appeared to be a new suit of armor, which seemed to be like the Aegis armor, but with several attachments to the back. The blue hologram was deconstructing and reconstructing on set cycles, and she stepped forward to get a closer look.

No one was at this station, so Sierra watched it for a few minutes, reading the information that accompanied the disassembled pieces before they reconstructed into the suit again. From what she could determine, this was an attempt by XCOM to incorporate the elerium substance into armor for some kind of flight system.

Interesting.

"Tap on it if you want to pause," a new voice interrupted. Sierra nodded at that, and reached forward.

"Thanks-" she began glancing over to whatever scientist was speaking and almost had a heart attack when she saw the voice belonged to an alien; a female Vitakarian. She froze for several seconds, paralyzed as she wondered how there was an alien standing-

Oh. Wait. This was one of the Vitakarian captives XCOM had from the Fury Base. She relaxed slightly, even if her heart was still pounding.

It didn't help that the Vitakarian was staring at her in a way that suggested that she'd had this same effect on other people before. Sierra still wasn't completely used to how tall they were. Even their small ones were over six feet, and this one was a good few inches taller than her, dressed in a greyish uniform that had the XCOM emblem on the upper right chest, and some other logo she didn't recognize opposite it. A special kind of uniform.

The eyes were definitely the most disconcerting part, and it wasn't even a soft blue light, but it was as harsh as was likely possible for their biology. Figures. Objectively, it was a pretty neat part of their biology, but it made all of them inherently intimidating. "Sorry," Sierra said, once more attempting to relax. "I forgot that-"

"That there are aliens beyond the Elder in XCOM," the Vitakarian answered, deadpan. "Understandable. Soldiers rarely come down, and you were not among the number who assaulted the Fury Base."

"Yes," Sierra confirmed. "Don't often see you this close unless I'm fighting you." She appraised the Vitakarian. "Always forget how tall you are."

The Vitakarian cocked her head, trying to do an imitation of a smile. "Your species is rather short as a rule. Why are you down here…Who are you?"

"Sierra," she said. "Mostly because I'm curious. I was wondering what stuff XCOM is working on."

The eyes of the Vitakarian widened, but Sierra didn't know what that meant. "That could cover a lot of topics, Sierra," she said slowly. "But it has largely been focused on elerium, and the integration of it into your technology." She motioned to the hologram. "This is the Icarus Project, originally conceptualized as a counter to Floaters, and as an infantry air unit."

Sierra's eyes lit up. "So a jetpack?"

The Vitakarian pursed her lips. "I do not understand that reference."

Sierra waved her arm dismissively. "So anyone who wears the armor could fly?"

"This is correct," she said. "We have taken the initiative and made some improvements to the absorption capabilities of the armor, so it won't be immediately shot out of the sky. In addition to that…" she stepped forward and began manipulating the console next to the holographic stand. "Air combat is significantly different from ground combat, with its own strengths and weaknesses. While this is not my area of expertise, additional weapons are being developed to take advantage of what is being referred to as the Archangel armor."

A new series of images appeared, what appeared to be various improvised explosives, wrist weapons like flamethrowers. "To be used effectively, there will have to be a minor neurological link," the Vitakarian continued. "To manipulate flight controls in combat is impossible otherwise."

Well, there would have to be some kind of drawback. "So like a MEC?"

"No," she denied, shaking her head. "Nothing nearly as invasive. It would only be some simple commands and instructions, no side effects like personality degeneration in first-generation MEC pilots. With that said, the MECs will also be getting their own variant of this."

She brought up another hologram, of what Sierra could describe as a MEC that seemed to be streamlined, sleek, and with bladed wing-like attachments on various parts of the body. "The Valkyrie-Class," she said, with what sounded like pride in her voice. "The first prototype is nearing completion. I suspect both these projects will be completed relatively soon."

Times like this Sierra felt like she was in a science fiction movie, complete with jetpacks, giant robots, aliens, and weird purple space magic. Too bad there was a not-insignificant chance they might die. "Well, sign me up for that," she said, then frowned, looking over at the Vitakarian. "You know, for being a captive, you don't seem too upset."

The Vitakarian looked at her for a few long seconds. Hm, maybe she shouldn't have asked. "XCOM has treated us well," she finally said. "And Aegis has revealed to us how badly our species has been used. It is difficult to feel loyalty to the Collective anymore, knowing what they have and are doing to us." She looked away. "Not that any of us have much of a choice. We could either work for XCOM or die. Faced with that, at least I can take some satisfaction in my work."

She shut off the console absentmindedly. "With that said, I do not enjoy knowing that my work will lead to many of my own being killed. But again, I have little choice in the matter."

"Well, you've had a while to observe us," Sierra said. "What do you think about us?"

"Your inclination and satisfaction you take towards violence is alien to me," she said bluntly. "Your species is strange. Why you would not band together and unite despite what is happening is difficult to understand. Many of your kind seem obsessed with power and control, more motivations that I cannot realistically understand."

She blinked once. "However, your species is brilliant and capable of incredible advancement. Within two years you have managed to reverse-engineer our technology for your own usage, and you have a capacity to adapt tactically that I have not seen in other species. I also find it fascinating that in the face of almost impossible odds, many of you do not seem to even think about surrender, even though you would most certainly live."

"Depends," Sierra said with a sigh. "All surrender would accomplish at this point would be ensuring we either die quick deaths, or long drawn out ones. I doubt they'd let any of XCOM live, and we would not do well as slaves or subjects to a higher alien power. That isn't how we're built."

"I am curious," the Vitakarian said. "If the Collective were to…the term is 'sue for peace', I believe, would you accept it?"

Sierra actually thought for a few moments. The possibility had never really entered her mind. It seemed to be an all or nothing outcome to this invasion. Either Humanity would win, or the Collective would. She didn't see a scenario where the Ethereals would give up willingly, or one where Humanity just accepted, despite everything that happened.

Humans didn't forget, and Sierra suspected most would not forgive in this case.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "If they were actually genuine, and left us alone, maybe, but that's just my opinion. I doubt the Commander will be satisfied until the Collective is destroyed. ADVENT either for that matter. They attacked us unprovoked, without even trying to contact us; there is no reason for us to believe they wouldn't do it again."

"I understand that perspective to a reasonable extent," the Vitakarian admitted. "While I would prefer this war to be settled peacefully, you are correct in saying that you have no reason to trust the Ethereals. Why they have done this is a question I have continually asked myself. There was no reason to go to war with you, yet they did without so much as a chance to negotiate."

Sierra snorted. "More likely they felt themselves above the lowly primitives."

A nod. "That is another possibility."

There were a few moments of silence as Sierra crossed her arms. "I never asked your name."

"Sala'calintha'valian."

Sierra nodded. "Well, you seem alright for an alien. Whatever side you were on before, you're doing good work now."

"I suppose I will take that as a compliment," Calintha said slowly. "Thank you?"

Sierra grinned. "Just keep making jetpack armor and you'll remain on everyone's good side. We always like new tech."

"Which I should return to," Calintha said, turning the holographic console back on. "I look forward to when you can use what we are developing here for yourselves."

Sierra chuckled. "So do I."

---

The Praesidium, Templar Training Arena

When he was much, much younger, Oliver remembered when he and his friends had all become obsessed with the medieval period, and for a time had gone all-out in pretending to be knights and kings. He had fond memories of holding mock battles and dueling his friends with cardboard swords. Eventually he'd grown out of it and realized that that period was never going to return.

Although now that seemed like it was going to change. Turned out all you needed to revive the age of melee combat was stronger armor, psionics, and upgraded weapons. There weren't many Templars at the moment, but given that XCOM was primed to be getting a new batch of soldiers in the coming weeks, that was likely going to change.

Still, there was rarely a time where there weren't at least a few people watching the Templars train. Sometimes Aegis was there, sometimes he wasn't, but it didn't entirely matter since they always came up with different ways to practice. Right now there was a mock duel taking place between Iosif and the two-man team of Carmelita and Chan.

Oliver had, quite foolishly in retrospect, thought that this would be a relatively tame affair, but from the way they had been warming up, they were clearly planning to go all out. The weapons weren't actually XCOM standard, but the psionics certainly were. Carmelita wasn't using her alloy cannon either in this scenario.

"Place your bets," Oliver said lightly to the other person in the room; Nuan she'd called herself. He was pretty sure they'd talked a few times before, but not recently. She'd mostly kept to herself after first getting her arms chopped off, and then replaced. The prosthetics did look very well-crafted, but he didn't know how well they actually functioned for her.

He wasn't sure if it was normal or not, but he couldn't help but notice her fingers continuously twitching and spasming. She also had a habit of flinching occasionally. If these were indications that she still wasn't fully comfortable with the prosthetics, he didn't know, but from what he'd seen, it seemed likely.

The Chinese woman raised an eyebrow. "Out of curiosity, who are you going for?"

"Two on one," Oliver gestured as the Templars began preparing to duel each other. "They have the numerical advantage. Gonna have to go with them for this."

She answered with a smile that didn't quite seem sincere. "Well, someone has to root for the underdog. But Iosif will win this. I've seen him do it before."

Oh really? "You come here often?"

She shrugged. "Not really much else for me to do while I get used to these," she raised a prosthetic arm. "And with all the stuff happening, I doubt people want to see a Chinese soldier. Besides, I don't like people staring."

"Fair enough," he nodded. "I'll try not to stare."

"Which you have already failed at," she dryly pointed out. "Quiet, they're starting now."

Oliver complied and turned his attention to the duel. All of them were wearing Aegis armor, with Carmelita armed with her longsword, Chan with a Zweihander, and Iosif with a ball mace, not the flanged one he usually had. Probably less dangerous.

Iosif made a gesture and his body was immediately enshrouded in a purple shield that seemed to fit over him like another layer of armor. Chan dashed ahead, stabbing forward, which was immediately deflected by Iosif with a swipe of his weapon hand. Chan took advantage by letting the deflection carry and released one hand, flaring with psionic energy which he directed at Iosif.

The directed barrage of purple energy aimed directly at Iosif's face was blocked by another square shield Iosif constructed a second later. While that was happening, Carmelita leapt behind him and began attacking from behind, and he immediately backed to the side so he had both of them in view. One hand was kept up, maintaining the shield while he traded blows with Carmelita with the other.

The shield dissipated and Chan resumed taking the offensive, with Carmelita backing off to let him move unrestricted. It was clear that in this instance, Chan had the superior weapon. Iosif's mace was just not long enough to get anywhere close to striking back, but to his credit, he was deflecting the blows well with the mace and minute applications of psionic shields.

Carmelita circled behind him and thrust out her left arm, and that stinger/tentacle thing shot out and wrapped itself around his arm for a brief moment, and he couldn't physically defend against the coming strike from Chan which slammed directly into his head.

Oliver winced.

Carmelita retracted her stringer before Iosif could rip it off or otherwise harm it, and leapt towards the vulnerable Templar. Chan immediately made another strike, but Iosif had created another, larger, psionic shield which would briefly cover where he was being attacked. At the same time he raised a hand towards Carmelita and a psionic shield suddenly appeared in the middle of the air, which she promptly slammed into, falling to the ground with a thud.

Nuan snickered. "Idiot."

To her credit, Carmelita recovered quickly, though she seemed shaken, and it allowed Iosif to rise to his feet and he seemed rather angry. He started attacking Chan with a combination of strikes and rather creative uses of offensive psionic shields, which were used to unbalance Chan, especially around his shoulders and ankles.

Chan stabbed forward, his Zweihander engulfed in psionic flames, with his hand positioned to blast Iosif with psionic energy at the same time. Carmelita threw out her stinger again, this time wrapping it around his neck and pulling. It wasn't strong, but it was hindering Iosif who was focusing everything on blocking the psionic torrent of energy.

Iosif dropped his mace and twisted so Chan and Carmelita were roughly on opposite sides, and he gestured with a free hand at Carmelita, who stumbled back as a small horizontal shield hit her, forcing her to retract her stinger. Iosif's hand briefly contracted and expanded, and Carmelita was suddenly in the middle of four psionic shields, practically imprisoning her.

Keeping his focus on her, he jumped backward and repeated a similar gesture towards Chan who realized the danger. But he was too late and four similar shields appeared around him. Chan immediately raised a hand with psionic energy and pressed it against one of the shields, and Carmelita began testing their strength with her sword.

For now, at least, it looked pretty even. Even if Iosif currently had them in makeshift prisons, it wouldn't last forever and neither of them were hurt. "Alright," Iosif said. "We'll call it a draw."

He let his arms drop and the shields dissipated, he went to pick up his mace while Carmelita sheathed her sword and Chan ceased his psionic energy output. "Well, I guess neither of us win anything today," Oliver said to Nuan. "Shame."

"They're getting better," Nuan nodded. "Although Carmelita still falls for the mid-air block. That's generally how he wins. She goes too fast and he knocks her out. Or he dazes her for a short time and forces Chan to concede with a little addition to the psionic prison."

Oliver glanced over at her. "Which is?"

"He adds a covering shield that slowly lowers itself," she explained. "Like a juice press, except with people at the bottom. I don't know if it's actually viable or just for intimidation, but he said it's very difficult to pull that off. Aegis taught him that too."

"He should try that with the Battlemaster," Oliver suggested. "It might slow him down."

"Or make him angry," Nuan winced. "I'd rather he not be faced at all until we can beat him. Otherwise it's a suicide mission."

"Can't disagree there," Oliver said as the Templars returned to individual exercises. "But I think we'll be able to beat him eventually."

---

Australia, Near Pippingarra

Abby was honestly not sure what Harper or the Chronicler expected her to accomplish here. Her mission was to investigate Port Harland, a fairly large city, albeit not nearly on the level of Sydney. Still, losing it would hurt the hold the Collective had on the continent. But everything she had observed was that it was going to be impossible to liberate without a small army.

The Australian Resistance was not going to risk so much for what was honestly a temporary victory. She had observed Zararch snipers, Mutons, and Andromedons. They appeared to be using the population of Humans there to build…something. They were turning large portions of the city into what seemed to be factories of some kind.

Spaceports?

It wasn't Gateways, because she had located three already deployed at various parts of the city, spread out enough that even if one was shut down, there would be at least another that could bring in reinforcements. So a straight attack was out of the question, and unless there was a significant amount of agents on hand, who somehow would manage to sabotage all Gateways at once, that still left the army problem.

The other alternative was the Chronicler deciding to take a more…direct approach, but even she wasn't sure he alone could beat an entire army. At least not without help. Well, she was supposed to meet one of Harper's people to give a report. Unfortunate that it was going to be bad news.

Abby chewed a ration bar as the sun set. She'd gotten quite a lot of survival experience out of this whole operation, which she'd never really expected. Once the war was over, assuming she was still alive, she would have quite a few career paths available to her. Although it was unlikely that she would ever become a civilian again, she couldn't go back to that kind of life after what she'd done and seen.

The bushes rustled and her pistol was immediately raised in the direction of the sound. She lowered it and scowled when she saw who it was. "What are you doing here?" She asked the Chronicler, who casually walked over and sat on a nearby stump.

"Getting my report, of course," he answered, lacing his fingers together. "I've had my eye on this place for a while, and having Harper send you out gave me a good reason to execute my plan here."

Abby narrowed her eyes. "This whole thing was your idea."

"Of course it was," the Chronicler answered easily. "Harper, while having good intentions, will not win this without some nudging here and there. Attacking small cities will accomplish nothing, but the bigger ones? Those will hurt the Collective." He nodded in the direction of the city. "So, what do you think they're building there?"

"They're having the civilians connect, destroy, or renovate entire blocks," Abby reported. "I couldn't find out exactly for what, but it seems to be factories for either weapons, vehicles or spacecraft."

"Spacecraft," the Chronicler confirmed with a nod. "I've been able to confirm that from my alien operatives. The Collective wants to establish a presence on Earth beyond the Moon. Japan and Australia are the primary grounds for this. If they are allowed to continue, they'll be fully operational in a matter of months, after which they will be that much harder to destroy."

Abby bit her lower lip. "This might be a time where we call in XCOM or the Lancers for a strike. The Resistance doesn't have the resources, and the aliens will beat any army sent. And even if one is successful, all that will accomplish is the aliens devoting more resources to protecting them." She sighed, shaking her head. "They have three Gateways here. It would need to be an extremely coordinated attack, and we don't have the manpower for it right now."

"Mhmm," the Chronicler mused. "Then I suppose we'll have to improvise. Luckily, I have a plan for such an endeavor." He lifted a hand, gesturing towards the brush and Abby froze as a half-dozen Vitakara, Vitakarians and Borelians, stepped out, fully armored and armed. Behind them she even saw two Andromedons.

"I have help for this," the Chronicler smiled. "There is little point in having an army if I never use it."

"And we are happy to help with this," one of the helmeted Vitakarians said. "What the Chronicler has revealed to us has been illuminating."

"You talk?" Maybe it was rude, but Abby was not expecting the aliens to be more than drones to the Chronicler's will.

"Of course," the Vitakarian answered as if that were obvious.

Having an army that cannot think for itself is useless, the Chronicler's voice said in her head. It is not hard to ensure loyalty. It is a simple matter of changing how they think, what their motivations are, how they perceive the world. Direct mind control is a crude tool, and one that does not produce needed results. My army is loyal, but capable of independent thought, which is all I require.

How do they just follow you? Abby thought back. Don't they wonder why they follow a Human?

I explained who I am, the Chronicler thought, almost smugly. It puts things into perspective for them.

That just made Abby more confused. Why do they care who you are?

I'll explain sometime soon, was all he thought. But they are quite good company otherwise.

Speaking aloud, he said: "This is how we will disable the Gateways. Three teams, each who will await my signal, and then will act."

"So that will take care of that problem," Abby nodded slowly. "But we will still have the army to deal with. Not that I don't doubt you could use your psionics to make them turn on each other, but this will get their attention, especially since they will wonder how the Resistance could take out a city on this scale. Aside from that, what about all the civilians?"

"We are not going to save the civilians," the Chronicler said calmly, standing and clasping his hands behind his back. "This will be the first instance of a revolt. At the right time, every single Human will rise up against the aliens and begin fighting back. They outnumber the Collective significantly, and they will serve as an excellent reason for how such destruction could occur."

Abby blinked. It was one thing to not let civilians affect the plan, it was one thing to kill innocent bystanders, but it seemed on another level to forcibly send many of them to their likely deaths. And how is that different? The logical voice in her head said. They will die either way, and this way at least they will serve a purpose.

She couldn't deny that it likely would be a good cover for the actual means to destroy the city. An uprising would catch them off guard, and they might just assume this was a fluke to not be repeated. Yet they were civilians. They would be slaughtered, and she doubted the Chronicler would differentiate between the elderly and children.

He had to have known her thoughts on this, which was likely why he was being silent and staying out of her head.

"Why can't you use your psionics on the aliens?" Abby asked.

"I could," the Chronicler confirmed with a short nod. "But for one, Humans are easier, and revolt should be as authentic as possible. Assuming I simply took control of the aliens, then we now have the question of where to put all these people, and that would undoubtedly attract attention. Attention that would put the Resistance at risk, not to mention make them wonder how such an operation is possible."

He shook his head. "No. This is necessary, as difficult as it may be to carry out."

Abby wished she could simply dismiss the cloying feelings of guilt, loathing, resignation, and sorrow, but she kept finding herself unable to each time something happened that pushed her further down the path of no return.

It's not like you're pulling the trigger here. He has the telepathy, not you.

She shook her head at that. That was a coward's excuse to avoid taking responsibility. If she helped, she was endorsing this action. Yet he was right, the spacecraft factories would have to be destroyed, and if they didn't do something, a worse decision would have to be made down the line.

The longer the war went on, the more difficult the decisions would get.

The more people would die.

She'd performed horrific acts and seen worse in the service of protecting Humanity. One more couldn't damn her more than she already was.

The Chronicler smiled.

"Fine," she stood up. "Let's get started."

---

The Praesidium, Psionic Training Area

Patricia gritted her teeth as she slammed into the padded wall. She quickly reoriented herself as Aegis kept advancing on her in his slow and methodical fashion. Despite this being the third time facing him today, she was still amazed at just how powerful he actually was, and how inadequate she was against him.

And he was holding back.

She'd seen him training the psions with defensive affinities. He could manipulate those shields to crush her like an insect as well as trap her in stasis while he compromised her mind. But no, he decided to 'play fair' and restrict himself to telepathic attacks and wielding his blunt, psionically manifested sword to throw her around. He even wasn't using his telekinetics.

With a yell, she flared with psionic power, distorting the air around her, including her own vision as she assaulted the wall that was the mind of the Ethereal. But no matter how much she tried, there was no way to break it. It was like a crystalline sphere, without flaw or blemish, and everything simply slid off it like water.

Aegis gestured, his own bared arm encircled in psionic energy, and Patricia was suddenly assaulted with a barrage of sounds. Bells, shouts, noises she had no words for, all happening at once in her head. She shook her head, trying to block it out even as she felt Aegis begin to actually assault her own mind.

It was similar to being in quicksand. Or at least that was closest she could think of in her scattered thought process. Maybe being battered with waves repeatedly. A dam, that was the best description. Right now she was one that was cracking even as the sounds got louder and louder until she could finally hold no more and collapsed to the ground.

And even on the ground, the sounds in her head got louder and louder as her vision blurred and flickered. The Ethereal was in her head now, and she had no idea where he even was, let alone how to even begin to get him out. This own private hell of hers continued for hours, or maybe it was only a few minutes. Aegis had complete control of her and could have warped her perception of time easily.

But she was beaten, completely and utterly.

When light began leaking back into her eyes and everything faded to relative silence, she found herself on the ground of the training area, still in her armor and her throat raw. Had she been screaming? She wouldn't have been surprised, given how awful all around she generally felt. She pushed herself up, and saw Aegis still standing above her, looking down upon her.

"You fucking done?" She growled, unlatching her helmet and letting it fall to the ground, feeling the cool air of the arena wash over her face.

"Any further and your mind would be gone," Aegis said simply. "I believed that was sufficient."

She scowled. "Thank you for being so considerate. But I think you forgot I'm not a bloody Ethereal."

"Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of that distinction," Aegis said. "Or I should say, you do not. The Battlemaster, despite his threat, is not who you should fear. Isomnum, Macula, or Quisilia would break your mind apart and laugh while doing so. What I demonstrated would be considered merciful compared to what they can do. And I need not mention the Overmind or Imperator."

Aegis's tone turned unexpectedly colder. "Your telepathy, Patricia, is not impressive. You recently appear to have gotten the impression that the mind control of hundreds is a feat worthy of praise. For a new species learning their power, perhaps it is, but right now you have perhaps the skill of an Aegis in training; not a full one, and certainly not the skill of an Overmind."

Patricia's shoulders slumped. Were she actually mentally functioning, she might have had a few words to say to him, but as it stood, she couldn't think of anything, nor could she completely disagree with him. "Then what am I supposed to do?" She asked tiredly. "Nothing works against you. I've tried everything I can think of. You don't have any weaknesses."

Aegis's helmet nodded. "Why do you have to beat me psionically?"

Patricia gave him her best 'are you kidding me?' look. "Read my mind if you want that idiotic question answered."

"Apologies," Aegis said. "I phrased that wrong. What I should ask is why you believe sheer power is the best way to defeat me, or any other psion?"

Patricia opened her mouth, then paused, actually thinking about it briefly. "It depends on the context, I suppose," she said. "But against someone like you, there is no other attack that will work as well. You don't have any clear weaknesses, and on top of that, you're more powerful that I am. Your Trask level is what, one-thirty?"

"One-thirty-eight," Aegis corrected briefly. "But that doesn't excuse your rather poor grasp of tactics. What you are doing right now is the equivalent of taking a hammer and tapping a wall to destroy it. It doesn't work. So how would you solve that?"

"The easy way?" Patricia raised an eyebrow. "Plant explosives at the base, detonate, and watch the wall fall down. And get a better tool than a hammer."

"Good enough," Aegis agreed. "So why not do the same thing here?"

Aegis was fixating on this, so she tried to force her mind to think about how best to figure this out. Alright. So Aegis's mind was a wall, one he was focused on defending. So, what would be the best thing to do? If assaulting the wall itself didn't work, then the next step was to weaken it. In this case, everything relied on Aegis's own focus.

Ah, there was an idea. Disrupt his focus.

Now what was a good means of accomplishing that? The ideal thing would be to send mind-controlled drones at him, maybe force him to defend himself. That would weaken him a little bit. Then there would be her own weapons, for all the good it would do her. But it could still help make an impact.

Hmm…

"What were you doing to me?" Patricia asked. "You overwhelmed my senses, even without taking control of my mind. You used that to distract me; disrupt my own focus on defenses."

"Exactly," Aegis said approvingly, and she realized that she was getting enough energy back to begin sensing people beyond the immediate area. "You are familiar with how a network denial of service attack works? This is much the same concept. If you cannot penetrate the mind of the target, overwhelm them with noise. Trap them inside their heads; break their concentration; force them to either focus on defense or continue with a weakened attack. Either can be exploited."

He looked away from her. "Your power is immense for a Human, Patricia, but against an Ethereal, you cannot simply overpower them. Even weaker ones like Revelean or the Creator have centuries of training and experience. They know how to defeat those more powerful than them, and that is because they think tactically. That is what you need to learn. Brute strength will not serve you well in this fight."

Patricia nodded. "I understand that. Thank you, Aegis."

"I think that is sufficient for now," Aegis dismissed, turning away from her. "Rest and recover, Patricia, return to your lover. The time for more training will come soon enough."

Patricia wouldn't really disagree with that. At the moment, she just wanted to sleep, cuddle, or otherwise enjoy a break before the gathering storm broke. The aliens were being very quiet, and that had everyone increasingly worried.

They were preparing for something, and after this, she wasn't sure she could handle it.

---

Switzerland, ADVENT Command

"They have been very quiet recently," Saudia mused as she looked at the holomap of the current alien-controlled territory. "Pulling back after their victory seems…odd."

"Not if you think about their goals," Laura interrupted opposite her. "I think it's clear now that they don't just want to win this war, they want to win completely. In theory, they could attack wherever they pleased. But they won't do that, because we still control the majority of land and could quickly outmaneuver them."

"Their actions make sense," Elizabeth agreed, tapping a pen absentmindedly on the edge of the holotable. "Everything I've gathered indicates they are fortifying what they do have. They're converting large swaths of Japan into factories, and I can only assume they're doing the same in Australia too."

"And in America?" Saudia asked.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Unknown. No factories or anything like that, but they are rotating out groups of soldiers. They're fortifying their strongholds there. They are going to make themselves as hard to dislodge as possible."

"Expected," Laura nodded. "They have to know our counterattack is coming. But it is interesting that they haven't done anything, even if it's not a full attack."

"Speak for yourself," Elizabeth muttered. "I've got to deal with a shitposting Ethereal every day and see if he's revealing some secret alien strategy. I swear he's intentionally trying to drive my agents insane."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Yes, following his twitter is a draining task for you I'm sure."

"Oh, fuck you," Elizabeth muttered good-naturedly. "Here, look at this."

Saudia was now curious and walked over to Elizabeth who held up her tablet for both of them to see it. The tweet she had up was suitably and unrealistically happy.

Quisilia TheGreatQ – Oct 28, 2016

Save the date people! 10/31/2017 Big things are coming! Be prepared to hit that subscribe button! #OctoberSurprise #Halloween #suspense #hello #ADVENT #xcom #teaser #promo #capitalist #food #insinuation

Saudia smirked at that involuntarily, and that was before she saw the photo attached, which was a selfie of Quisilia with a white sheet over his helmet (which quite clearly didn't look natural) and some crudely drawn eyes and mouth. She…thought he was trying (badly) to mimic a ghost. And of course he was holding up a hand with two fingers in the 'peace' slang sign.

Laura just looked confused. "What does that even mean?"

"Exactly," Elizabeth muttered, setting the tablet down. "He does this every week, gives a date and hypes it up, and deliberately makes sure we know it there, and we have to spend time trying to figure out what he's actually doing. He just might actually reveal some alien operation so we have to look into it." She facepalmed. "So I don't know if he's opening up a fucking puppy shop on Halloween or teasing that Korea is going to be attacked."

Saudia understood her concern, but it all seemed unreasonably funny. "Well, I suppose we could have Twitter ban him."

"Not going to happen," Elizabeth sighed. "One: Someday he's probably actually going to give us something useful; Two: He'd just make another one, and three: He's, ah, on the board of directors."

Both women stared at her in disbelief. Saudia coughed. "Ah, how?"

"The short version is that he bought a ten percent stake in the company," Elizabeth answered. "And yes, they did let us know what was going on. I let them give him the position, since he might actually let something slip. Technically he's an 'honorary member', but he'll likely become a legitimate one whenever they have the next stockholder vote."

"What the actual hell?" Laura said to no one in particular.

"It's bizarre," Elizabeth agreed. "And by all accounts, he's actually being a contributing member. He joins as many board meetings as he can by video conference, all without any disguise, of course, and when he can't be there, he has his 'intern' take his place. An Andromedon of all things. Very polite too."

"I feel like I've entered some alternate dimension where things don't make any logical sense," Laura said flatly. "An Ethereal is on a board of directors of one of the largest social media platforms in the world and is actually helping them."

"Welcome to the Quisiliasphere," Elizabeth said wearily. "What I've labeled for anything relating to him where reason and expectation are thrown out, along with most of your sanity. So," she turned back to Saudia. "Let's return both to something actually important, and which follows logic to boot. Our counterattack."

"Yes," Saudia nodded. "Laura, Weekes, and the senior commanders will be meeting and coordinating with XCOM on November first. In the meantime, we're using that time to gather our forces and create more plasma dissipators, Shieldbearers, and SHIVs for the attack. We won't have anyone from the PRIEST Program yet, but we should have some preliminary soldiers by the end of November."

"Everything is on schedule," Laura confirmed to Elizabeth with a nod. "Seattle and Las Vegas are the main targets, as well as pushing beyond Portland. We won't take California and most of Nevada back, but we hit their major strongholds and that'll loosen their hold there."

"The Battlemaster probably won't stay out of it," Elizabeth pointed out. "Or Caelior."

Laura smiled, and Saudia joined her. "We actually have something that might deter the Battlemaster," Laura said. "Caelior too, for that matter. Risky, but the chances of it working are above fifty percent. We keep the Ethereals away, we can win with XCOM support."

"Well, I'll press for more details at the meeting," Elizabeth nodded, looking down at her tablet. "You, Chancellor, have a busy few days."

"Yes, my big meeting at the Vatican," Saudia remembered. "That will be interesting." She smiled as she thought about how that was going to go down.

"Considering what you've had me and Stein coordinate on the past few weeks, I'd imagine so," Elizabeth smirked. "I mean sure, why not move against the most influential religion in the world? Joking aside, I want video."

"Seems oddly timed," Laura noted. "I mean, I can understand doing this normally, but it seems almost unimportant when the invasion is happening."

"A few reasons," Saudia said, tapping her fingers on the holotable. "This is more a Peacekeeping operation, not a military one, so the resources can be justified. Next, just because there is an alien invasion doesn't mean we can't multitask. In addition, having the Catholic Church on our side will be a large boost to recruitment and PR if they endorse ADVENT. And I want to get this out of the way before the Religious Summit. The Pope falls in line, everyone else will too."

"I don't think you understand how religion works," Laura said skeptically. "They very likely might not endorse you because one, you aren't religious, and two, their holy books might not allow it. Have you ever had a debate with a religious person before? They can be stubborn."

Saudia sniffed. "In my experience, the leaders of these religions generally aren't idiots, or suicidal fanatics. I don't care about the regular believer, but their leaders can be swayed. If nothing else, they should realize that getting killed by aliens is not what their god would want."

All Laura did was sigh. "Well, I wish you luck on that. I second Elizabeth. Take pictures."

Elizabeth suddenly laughed. "Did you schedule this intentionally, Saudia?"

Saudia cocked her head. "Sorry?"

"You meet the Vatican on the thirty-first," Elizabeth said with a grin. "The Reformation? The day when Luther rebelled against the Catholic Church?"

Laura snorted and Saudia smiled. "I wondered if they'd notice. I thought it was fitting. The world itself is reforming, and it is time for religion to join it."

"I'd almost recommend against it since it's completely insulting," Elizabeth said humorously. "But I quite like the idea. Give the Pope my regards."

"Don't worry," Saudia assured her. "I certainly will."

---

Busan ADVENT Base, South Korea

"We're getting an extra one?" Cara half-asked, half-noted as they walked toward their designated part of the barracks, sidestepping the other soldiers in their way. "Generous of them."

"Apparently ADVENT didn't put some of their squads together as well as they should have the first time," Duri explained, as he also twisted to avoid some soldiers. Maybe he should have put his helmet on instead of holding it by his side. "The squads were either too small, or didn't have a good composition. Like mostly soldiers and no medics, for example. Have you ever seen an XCOM squad?"

Cara shook her head. "Not in person."

"Pretty much every single soldier fulfills a specific role," Duri explained. "Sometimes there is some overlap, but in general one XCOM squad is diverse enough to handle almost every single situation. The problem ADVENT seems to have run into is some squads being extremely useful in some instances, and utterly terrible in others."

"So they're going for jack-of-all-trades squads," Cara grunted. "Fair, I guess. I hope that this works out better for us."

"Far as I've been told, there will still be exclusive Engineering and Medic teams," Duri said as they turned a corner. "But, for example, squads like ours will get one of each."

"So who are we getting?" Cara asked.

"A Medic, Engineer, standard infantryman, and a Shieldbearer," Duri listed off. "Apparently the Shieldbearers got an upgrade recently. They can supposedly deflect plasma."

Cara's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Memo sent out to all officers," Duri said, pulling out the printed memo. "And yes, it seems to be just as big a game changer as implied. I need to do some scenarios with it in action, but ADVENT is actually making stuff to help us. I'm sufficiently impressed."

"I'm not surprised they're trying to outthink the aliens," Cara said, her voice slightly stunned at the implications. "But that they did it this fast. Really, how long was it since Japan? A few weeks?"

"They've probably been working on a project like this since the start," Duri said. "It's just taken until now to actually make something out of it. I wouldn't be surprised if they've got stuff that can kill Ethereals in one shot in the works. Now if they ever deploy them is another story."

"Think they should try for the smaller stuff first," Cara muttered, looking back forward. "Figure out how to kill the Warlock aliens before trying for Ethereals. Honestly, what could kill something that pretty much single-handedly beat us?"

"Nukes?" Duri suggested, shrugging in his armor. "Really, I don't know. But they must be working on something like that. They'd be stupid not too."

"Agreed," Cara nodded. "Normally I'd make a joke about how government and intelligence are not something that can be combined, but that seems somewhat false now. Maybe ADVENT is the real deal this time."

Duri smiled grimly. "Maybe. Shame it took the threat of extinction to get it started."

He hit the door to the squad barracks and it slid open, and both of them entered where the new members of his team, with said team being re-designated as Carolus Squad. That seemed to imply that it was unique, and he was treating it like that until being told otherwise. Given how extensive not only the English language was, but every other language, it probably wouldn't be too difficult for each squad to have their own unique designation.

It was better than Squad 001 or something like that.

The soldiers in the room immediately stood at attention. Half of them were wearing their armor, the other two were not. Didn't matter to him right now, he'd shown up in armor because he felt it appropriate to make a good first impression, but they weren't technically on-duty, so he wasn't going to be stuck up about it.

"Good, everyone's here," he began, looking over his new soldiers. "I'm Captain Duri Eun-Jung, or just Duri. Our Sniper Beatriz is still recovering from injuries sustained in Japan, but she should be back with us in a few days," he gestured to his side. "This is Cara, Gunner."

"Don't have my gun here, sadly," she added. "But yeah, hi everyone. Looking forward to killing aliens with you all."

Duri nodded to the man furthest to the left, a man with the black armor of a soldier. He looked fairly young compared to everyone else. "Soldier Mana Kalei," he said, giving a salute with a fist over his heart. "Former American Navy, Hawaiian deployment. Since that division is pretty much gone, they sent me out here."

Cara visibly winced. "I'm sorry."

Duri wasn't familiar with the details about how Hawaii fell, but he did know there had been a fairly intense battle before ADVENT was forced to give it up. Now that he'd stated where he was from, Duri could definitely tell Mana was an islander, likely a Hawaii native. All the short dossier had said was 'American'. This would have been some information he would have liked to know beforehand.

"We'll take it back eventually," Mana said evenly. "But priorities. We're all needed more here right now."

"That we are," Duri said. "Your turn."

"Aleksandra Savelievna," the tall Russian woman said, her accent making her sound harsher than he words implied. "Shieldbearer Mark Two, Deus Vult freed us to be deployed elsewhere. Awaiting your orders."

She wasn't wearing her armor, but Duri had seen Shieldbearer armor, and it was much bulkier and heavier than regular armor, so he could understand why she was only wearing her fatigues. "I've seen the reports," he said. "Have you tested to see if the armor can do what Command says?"

She smiled, or more accurately, essentially bared her teeth. "The armor works to all simulations, Captain, but only way to know is fighting aliens."

Since ADVENT didn't have plasma weaponry, Duri supposed that was the best he was going to get. "Good enough for now. Next."

"Nobuatsu Yoshitaka," the Japanese man answered immediately, also in his armor. At thirty-seven, he was the oldest of the group, and had an overall serious demeanor. His expression was also suitably intense. "But Nobu will suffice. Medic. Served in both Battles of Japan. Well aware of their capabilities, and hope to prevent more situations similar to Sniper Beatriz."

About time they got a Medic. "Glad to hear it," Duri agreed. "Your skills would have come in handy then."

"I've gotten quite good at shooting xenos in addition to field triage," Nobu said evenly, the corners of his lips curling up. "Acquired skill, and one I'm quite proud of. I would not want to be a liability in the battle."

"And we appreciate that," Aleksandra added approvingly. "No one likes bystander. You Medics are notorious for this."

"Considering these aliens have my country, I've been willing to put aside my distaste for combat," Nobu said coldly, the same grim smile on his face. "Bullets are a kind of preventative medicine; if we wish to get technical."

Some of them chuckled at that. "I like you," Cara nodded. "Doubt you'll beat my record, but I wish you luck."

"Alright, last one," Duri said, turning to the final man. He was wearing Engineer fatigues, with plenty of tools strapped to him, all well-organized. To his side was one of the new SHIVs. Duri had never actually seen one of them before, only read the reports. He'd thought they were much smaller, but the SHIV came up to mid-chest in armor.

It made him somewhat uncomfortable how dangerous it looked. "Miguel Capmany," the man said with a nod and salute. "Former Mexican Army Engineer, now ADVENT Engineer. I also maintain our new SHIV, which will help us in killing the aliens."

Duri raised an eyebrow. "It's bigger than I thought."

Miguel chuckled. "ADVENT's not making little drones, Captain. They need machines to kill aliens, and this little guy can chew through a Muton, armor and all."

Aleksandra sniffed. "I do not trust machine. Too unreliable."

Miguel sighed. "This isn't like the MDU. The intelligence isn't as sophisticated."

"And that is supposed to make me feel better?" She asked, deadpan.

"Have some faith," Miguel chided. "I've looked at how this machine works. It doesn't even go into a firing mode until we designate it. Even then, it only targets aliens, and even then, only ones the controller tells it to."

"I don't suppose we get our own MDU as well?" Cara asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately not," Duri said. "They want to save those for larger operations."

"No Purifier either," Mana chided at them. "I'm disappointed."

"No offense to them," Cara said flippantly. "But I'd honestly sleep better without tanks of liquid fire anywhere in the building."

Duri smiled, and Miguel chuckled at that. He didn't completely disagree with Cara here. ClF3 was something he didn't want to get near, let alone have to deal with it on a daily basis. Well, didn't seem like there would be many problems here. Everyone was here, willing, and wanting to kill aliens. "Alright everyone, we'll begin exercises tomorrow morning. Given the alien's track record, I don't want us to be caught unprepared, and we know they can attack at anytime."

"I agree," Aleksandra stated. "Whenever the attack, we need to be ready."

"In that case, we get some sleep," Miguel said. "Been awhile since I've looked forward to training exercises, but given all the new tech we have…" he looked around. "Well, I'm looking forward to seeing it in action."

---

Australia, Port Hedland

It might have just been her imagination, but the night itself seemed extremely ominous. The moon was obscured by clouds and a cool wind cut through her clothes, making her shiver involuntarily every so often. The plasma weapon one of the Chronicler's Vitakara had given her was extremely cold to the touch.

The Chronicler was also wearing a special kind of armor that one of his aliens had brought him. His reason for not wearing it to begin with was because it was heavy and hot, though Abby suspected that he was not being entirely truthful. The armor itself was nothing like she had ever seen. It was a deep black, which reminded her more of a void than the color itself. The material it was made out of wasn't standard alien alloys either, but some kind of porous stone that covered all his limbs and yet still allowed him to move freely.

The chest, legs, arms, and boots had another layer of this strange substance. There was some kind of strange text going down the sides of his chest armor, a language Abby had never seen before, not even from the Ethereals. On the chest was the simple outline of a galaxy, with some kind of strange…thing…above it. Something that reminded her of an outstretched hand.

It made her feel uncomfortable just looking at the armor, let alone the odd symbols on it. Whatever it was, it was not Human, and the longer she spent around him, the more she wondered just who he really was.

"Move forward to the Gateway positions," the Chronicler ordered calmly to his alien subordinates who began moving wordlessly towards the city. "Await my signal."

Abby frowned as they walked to the city. "Will they just be let in?"

A ghost of a smile made its way onto the Chronicler's lips. "No, and that will have to be corrected. Wish me luck." With that he placed the accompanying helmet on, a piece that was just as odd as the rest of the armor. It was a simple covering, with no visible additions, external feeds, eyeholes, or breathing apparatuses.

"Ah, now this is how it works," Abby stared at the Chronicler as he raised a hand towards the city. His voice was not the same, it had a deep echo to it, as if two voices were speaking concurrently. It was not the layering effect that she'd heard from other psions like Patricia. This was a completely different voice.

Much like the first time she'd helped him.

"Little reason to be alarmed, Agent Gertrude," the Chronicler said as the air around him became visibly distorted. He spread his fingers and it seemed as though the entire city briefly blurred. "I am simply getting used to the armor."

"What is it?" She asked, her voice much smaller as he lowered his hand.

"A gift," the Chronicler said without a further explanation. "One I had hoped would never be needed, yet it appears my concerns were for naught. Let us continue, agent, we cannot be stopped now."

He clasped his hands behind his back and began walking forward, and Abby uncomfortably followed, her plasma rifle at the ready. "What did you do?" She asked as they walked up the deserted road.

"Simply altered their memories to recognize my own subordinates," he said as if it were nothing. "And the minds of the humans are primed. They will respond to my signal."

Abby blinked. "You only took a few seconds!"

"The method isn't important, Agent," he said without looking to her. "Now be prepared, we are approaching now."

The entrance was guarded by a half-dozen mutons, two Zararch snipers above and three Runianarch soldiers. They raised their weapons as Abby and the Chronicler approached. The leading Vitakarian yelled something, and the Chronicler simply gestured a hand forward and sent a crackling wave of energy towards them.

The wave didn't just throw them back, it tore through them, and to Abby's perspective, vaporized them into nothing. The Chronicler kept walking, putting his hand behind his back like he had the entire time. Abby was stunned. She'd never seen that kind of power from anyone, human or alien. "How did you do that?" she demanded, wondering if she'd even need to fire a shot during this.

"The technique isn't complicated," was all he said. "It is a minor application of destructive psionics. It is rather small compared to the feats of the Ethereal Empire. The Reapers and the Division of the Maelstrom were far more impressive in their feats."

Abby recalled that the Reapers were a group of Ethereals that…what did they do?

Destroy planets.

Right. That.

So maybe vaporizing a small group of aliens wasn't impressive in that context, but still…Whatever the Chronicler was doing here, he had to be more useful in the actual war. Whatever he said, being stuck in Australia wasn't where he belonged.

The Chronicler stopped at the checkpoint. "And now, let it begin."

Nothing happened at first, but the air around her suddenly became more and more distorted, and she eventually realized it was coming from the Chronicler himself, who was almost indistinguishable in the distorted energy wave. The air itself had seemed to change as well, it was like her ears had just popped and everything seemed different.

Then the yells and shouts started. Few in the beginning, but they grew in size and intensity the longer they waited. Now there were Humans coming out into the street, soundless and yet with purpose. Without any words, they stripped the immediate area for weapons. There was little outside of steel beams and scraps of alien alloys, but they grabbed them all the same.

Men, women, elderly, children, all were under the Chronicler's spell as they moved deeper into the city. It was also disconcerting that their eyes were tinged red. It was subtle, and only in what she saw as flashes, but it was there. Much like the effect Patricia had on mind-controlled victims, except then the eyes were turned a shade of purple.

She hoped she was just seeing things, and given how surreal this experience was becoming, she wasn't sure she could trust her sight.

"Let us continue," the Chronicler said, marching forward, and she carefully followed. "The first conflict is up ahead. Intervene if you wish, it will not change the outcome of this battle."

That sounded ominous. But even through her distorted vision she could follow the sounds of battle. There were shouts, grunts, and weapons fire up ahead, but as she listened closer, she realized that she'd been wrong earlier. Alien screams were not the same as Human ones; they were as a rule noticeably deeper and she hadn't heard a single Human one yet.

She rounded a corner, breaking into a jog, and stepped into what was complete and utter carnage. Hundreds of Human and alien corpses littered what was a street leading into a town square. Humans were attacking the remaining forty or so aliens, mostly Mutons, and it was going as well as she'd expected. Volleys of plasma were taking them down, but there were groups of Humans stripping the alien corpses for grenades and other explosives, since the plasma weapons broke upon death.

But what was completely unnerving was that it was done in near silence. The Humans didn't speak, not even when getting shot. Further still, they didn't seem to feel pain like normal. The Mutons seemed to have initially made the mistake of thinking that, and turned their attention away after the first plasma volley had knocked down the first wave, and then they'd been surprised when they had stood once more, missing limbs or flesh melting, but just as determined to kill as before.

Even the Humans on the ground that were not dead were pulling themselves forward, makeshift weapons in their hands. The latest wave of Humans was employing tactics now, some were holding sheets of metal and constructing barricades, while others were lobbing grenades at the Mutons, and an explosion just then killed another.

The Chronicler had said it didn't matter what she did here, whatever that meant, so she was going to help. She raised her plasma rifle and fired at one of the Mutons. Three plasma bolts shot out in quick succession, with surprisingly little recoil. It slammed into the head of the Muton, and they suddenly realized there was another threat to contend with.

The other Humans used that distraction as a way to launch a coordinated charge with the front shielded by metal sheets and behind them a dozen more Humans with sharp kitchen knives, broken broomsticks, shovels and other improvised weapons. Abby fired a few more volleys at the aliens, who quickly scrambled back into some kind of cover.

Then the charge hit the Muton flank and Abby was initially taken aback at the brutal savagery of the Humans, who immediately aimed or dove for the exposed heads, hitting them in the exposed flesh and stabbing their eyes out, and repeating it several times until they were sure the alien was dead before getting up to move on to the next one.

Most of them were killed before they could even kill a fourth, even as she took out another one. Not that it mattered much as none of the surviving Humans seemed demoralized or concerned their counterattack didn't work. Abby saw they were already organizing another similar attack. She wished the Chronicler could stop his reality-warping effect, since the distortions were making it difficult for her to line up accurate shots.

She'd taken out another one when a purple maelstrom appeared in the final group of aliens and vaporized them. The surviving Humans wasted no time and began walking to other parts of the city to assist other assaulted areas. "The attack is going well," the Chronicler said as he walked up to her. "The pockets of alien resistance are slowly but surely falling. Let us move to the factory itself. I expect your superiors will appreciate information on what the aliens are doing."

"What did you do to them?" Abby asked, looking at the mass of bodies around her.

"Helped them," was the answer. "Humans are fighters to a degree, but at times there needs to be a nudge in the right direction. Pain is useless to me, as is unneeded noise. They are extensions of my will, and know what needs to be done to achieve their objectives."

Abby shivered. Even Patricia hadn't gone to that degree to her knowledge. It was enough for her to turn their enemies against each other, but this seemed both a step above and beyond that. Sheer numbers shouldn't have been enough to beat an entrenched alien army, but that appeared to be exactly what was happening.

"Have you ever wondered how the Sectoids once waged war?" The Chronicler mused suddenly as they walked. "Much like this. A skill they have fallen out of practice in, but nonetheless an effective one." He gestured around. "These people are linked, a forced link, but one where they can coordinate to a degree that is impossible to be replicated through speech alone. That is how all of them are adapting, remaining calm, and strategizing without speaking. They are in a pseudo-hivemind, one under my own control."

Abby didn't add on to that. The concept alone was something she would hate to be subjected to. Humans weren't supposed to be these soulless drones dying in waves against an enemy, even if they ultimately won. Smoke was in the air now, and she looked in the distance to see fires beginning to rise as the triumphant Humans began torching the city.

Given the lack of reinforcements, she supposed that the Gateways had been destroyed as the Chronicler promised. Now the factories were up ahead. They were right now ugly combinations of Human architecture and interconnected alien alloys. Some buildings were destroyed, others were in the process of being connected together.

She followed the Chronicler as he stepped into one of the larger ones, and found more bodies inside, along with dozens of Vitakara dead; probably surprise attacks from the Humans working here who'd suddenly turned on them. There were welding torches, drills, saws, all kinds of improvised weaponry.

They stepped into an open conveyor belt area, where half a dozen were set up, and where there was a lot of screaming in pain. Alien screams. And she soon saw why. The Humans were continuing to execute the aliens still alive here, mostly who looked to be overseer types with no armor. Two or three Humans held them back while another one executed the alien with the weapons they had available.

One was using a chainsaw to cut up one of the aliens, another was using a blowtorch to melt the skin off another, all of them seemed to be killing the aliens in as painful a way as possible. "Many of the people here have fantasized about what to subject the aliens to," the Chronicler noted, sounding amused as they walked through the factory construction. "I see little wrong with letting them execute these aliens as they wish. Considering what they have been subjected to, it is only just."

Abby wasn't sure about that. Drawing out the death of an enemy seemed little more than sadistic. It was one thing if there was a goal, but for simple revenge? It seemed wrong.

Then again, she couldn't say she wouldn't do the same in their position.

They stopped in front of an alien console, and the Chronicler began manipulating a haptic pad and accessing the alien HUD which Abby couldn't begin to comprehend. "This is the mainframe for their operations here," he explained. "While they will undoubtedly be abandoned now, I suspect this will provide your superiors with some crucial information as to what their plans are for the region."

A small cube ejected from the console, and the Chronicler gingerly picked it up, and handed it to her. She couldn't tell under the helmet, but he was likely smiling. "Thank you, Agent Gertrude. Your participation here is appreciated."

Abby just stared at him. "Maybe you can tell me exactly what I did here? Or did you just want to show off?"

"You are ensuring that XCOM and ADVENT receive the benefits of my service, and allowing me to keep my anonymity," he answered nonchalantly. "While I most certainly could do most of this without you, it would take longer and I would be forced to expose myself, and in these times, that is something I would not be able to use as an excuse not to intervene."

That didn't make much sense to Abby, but it was probably best she didn't press the psion too much. Not now. It was very clear he had some ulterior motive besides just 'helping XCOM out', and the more she saw of what he could do…she was becoming scared at what that could be. "You may leave and report back," he said, turning away. "Simply say you witnessed the revolt and took the opportunity to gather some information. By the time anyone returns, the aliens will undoubtedly be back in charge."

She started. "I thought the goal was to destroy this place!"

"Originally, yes," he shrugged. "But the plan has changed. When the aliens send their reinforcements, I will be waiting and turn them as I did the others. The factories will be burnt to the ground, and my forces will control whatever is built in their place. The end result is the same, Agent Gertrude, you do not want to press me further at this time."

No, she certainly did not.

She quickly turned around, the alien data cube in-hand, and got out of there as fast as she could.

---

Vatican City

Saudia had always wanted to visit the Vatican. Aside from the history of the place, it was very much one of the most impressive locations in the world. Still, it was one area that would have been extremely difficult to actually visit in the EXALT era since the risk of exposure or compromise would be too great.

There was even more security around the building than usual, and Saudia had brought a small army with her of Peacekeepers with her for 'security purposes'. A reasonable enough explanation and one the Vatican had permitted due to her status and importance in the world. It wasn't every day that the most influential woman in the world came to meet the Pope.

Well, the Peacekeepers weren't all she had with her. Even the regular Riot Control outnumbered the Vatican soldiers, although no aggressive moves were being exchanged. Her own Personal Guard accompanied her as they walked into the empty halls of the Vatican, along with Stein who was in full Peacekeeper armor, her helmet under her arm.

Saudia was simply wearing her standard black uniform with the red sash across her shoulder, and a pistol at her hip. While there were no weapons allowed at the Vatican normally, there were exceptions that had to be made, and the Pope wasn't that stubborn.

"I don't suppose you've met him before?" Saudia said to make some conversation as they walked the ornate hallways.

"His Holiness Pope Marcellus the Third?" Stein asked sarcastically. "When the hell would I have met him?"

Saudia smiled to herself. "Fair point. Was just curious. I've never had the pleasure, so this should be interesting."

"Elizabeth put together a dossier," Stein reminded her. "You might know him better than maybe anyone else at this point."

The priest that was leading them forward suddenly stopped in front of a massive double door, and the two robed figures beside it opened it up to let them in. In the interior was a massive wooden table with ornate walls and chairs. The room itself had a domed top, which was painted with a scene Saudia didn't recognize.

In the room were eight elderly men in black cassocks with red bands around their waists; Cardinals of the Vatican and all advisors to Pope Marcellus. In the center was the Pope himself, wearing his formal white choir robe with the white cap.

"Chancellor Saudia Vyandar of ADVENT," the priest said as they entered the room. "His Holiness Marcellus the Third, Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Jesus Christ, Successor of the Prince of the Apostles, Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, Primate of Italy, Archbishop and Metropolitan of the Roman Province, Sovereign of the Vatican City State, Servant of the servants of God."

She could practically envision Stein resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the ridiculous number of titles the Pope had. Saudia found it a bit excessive as well, but knew that level of embellishment wasn't used very often, so she treated it as something of an honor. Although she didn't know how accurate that was.

She nodded to her guard and they waited outside. "If you would, Chancellor," the Pope said, his voice soft. "I would prefer we conduct this meeting privately."

Saudia could allow that. It wouldn't change much. She was here to have a productive conversation after all. "As would I, your Holiness," she nodded to Stein, who also nodded in acknowledgement and left. The Cardinals silently filed out of the room and Saudia walked over to the Pope, maneuvering a chair to sit opposite him.

"I appreciate you taking the opportunity to speak," Saudia said as the Pope took a seat opposite her. The elderly man had an aura of calm around him, which she wasn't surprised at given his position. He wore some spectacles, but otherwise was fairly ordinary outside the position itself. From what Elizabeth had been able to find, he was clear of any wrongdoing and seemed to more or less generally care about people under him and the common folk, as it were.

She didn't have much inherent respect for religious leaders, but out of all of them, Pope Marcellus was one of the least offensive. She hoped this would translate to him being reasonable as well.

"For a woman in your position, I would think it foolish not to meet," Pope Marcellus said. "You are one of the few who wield great influence in this world, and it would be irresponsible of me to not at least attempt to convince you to use it wisely."

Saudia gave a small, humorless smile. "I do my best to both protect our species and maintain order. I am well aware of the responsibility of my position."

"I cannot disagree with that," the Pope agreed surprisingly. "You have your flaws, but we all do, and you seem committed to the people in a less traditional way."

Saudia crossed her legs. "Crime and disorder should not be tolerated, Holiness. Being lax serves no one, nor does apathy and neutrality. While I don't claim to be perfect, I believe it is time to hold our species to a higher standard. I believe you might understand this better than most. Sin deserves punishment, does it not?"

The Pope gave a similarly grim smile. "That it does, but the difference is that our sins can be atoned for and forgiven. There is no forgiveness under your administration, only punishment."

"Justice, Holiness," Saudia disagreed calmly. "Forgiveness should be reserved for the ones whose crimes have not ruined the lives of others. There is, I believe, a difference between a child disobeying his mother, and a man murdering a citizen. Would you truly believe these to be equally worthy of forgiveness?"

"All can be forgiven if they are repentant," the Pope answered. "Yet I do agree that one is worthy of punishment and the other is not. But it is one thing to administer punishment, it is another to dehumanize them in the process." He paused. "I can say little for this war with the aliens. I do not have answers for it, but I can look out for the people of this world. I can offer little that you would consider useful in military matters."

Saudia sighed. "Punishment is supposed to be just that, Holiness, something unpleasant. I see little difference between our treatment of convicted criminals and the Hell you believe in. One is theoretically worse than the other."

"Hell is only for the deserving," the Pope shook his head. "Yet there are crimes of disproportionate magnitude you punish. I do not suggest to remove it entirely, that would be irresponsible, but perhaps use this opportunity to reform the convicted into something better. People can change, Chancellor, and this is true of even the murderers, rapists, and thieves you take delight in punishing."

"Reformation, Holiness, is something I believe needs to be earned," she stated flatly. "I am not as draconic as Stein, but I do not believe in reformation for all. Truthfully, the world would be better off without certain people in it. We do not abuse our prisoners, if they do their job, they will receive food and medical treatment. If they maintain good behavior throughout the entirety of their sentence, then they are released with a blank slate. Reformation is a result of reflection, and those in prison will either reflect on their crimes and come to the conclusion they need to change, or they will not."

The Pope was silent for a few seconds. "I would ask that you at some point speak to those in your system, perhaps that is the only way to understand that not everyone is beyond redemption. I am curious, Chancellor, I have wanted to speak to you, but what reason would you have to speak to me? You are not, I believe, a religious woman."

Saudia gave him another smile. "No, I am not. But the Catholic Church is the largest unified religious body in the world, and I would prefer we meet before the religious summit itself. Many countries in ADVENT have Catholic populations, and if ADVENT had the support of the Vatican, it would be a substantial boon to both morale, and to reassure the population that we are not the villains we are sometimes portrayed as. The Catholic Church has been largely quiet in regards to ADVENT, so I would ask you, where does the Church stand?"

"ADVENT, as it stands, is flawed, but not what anyone would consider evil," the Pope said after a minute of thought. "Your intentions are noble, you try and care for your citizens, you provide for the poor. You are committed to Humanity, but only a Humanity you believe to be superior. ADVENT is prideful, it is vicious to its enemies, it will be harsh when given the chance to show empathy, it will use violence to solve problems instead of diplomacy. And I am certain you believe that you are doing the right thing."

"Without a doubt," Saudia nodded. "Holiness, Humanity has to change. We have been plagued with division, corruption, and worse through these past decades. Your Church is not immune to it. It reached the point where democracies no longer represented the wills of the people; justice depended on money and skin color; power was seen as the end goal for government; countries stood by as thousands were killed in the name of radical ideology."

She shook her head. "There will never be an organization that is perfect, but ADVENT is the best that has existed so far. Our leaders are intelligent; we are not subjected to fanatical ideologies; we punish crime justly; money does not control us; and influence and status is only a footnote. No one is immune to our reach, Holiness, and unlike the United Nations of old, we do not simply stand by as injustice and death happens in the world. We act."

"No one can deny your proactivity, Chancellor," the Pope agreed. "Yet you seek to impose your rule over every other one. Can you be so certain you are correct?"

Saudia eyed him evenly. "With the information I know right now? Yes, I can say that ADVENT is correct. Not all ideas, ideologies, and religions are equal, and they should not be treated as such. The days of entertaining the Nazis, anarchists, dictators, slavers, and racists in the name of 'tolerance' or 'free speech' are over. I do not apologize for this, and I suspect you will not be able to refute me without resorting to moralistic arguments."

"I do not know you, Chancellor, but may I ask you a question?" He asked evenly in return. At her nod he continued. "You are a practical woman, that is evident, but I am curious by what your measure of humanity is. Our morality is how we know right from wrong; empathy, kindness, and love are parts of what makes us Human. Our ability to care. Chancellor, do you care about, or love someone?"

"Yes," she answered immediately. "And I actually agree to an extent. Our morality is how we know murder is wrong. It is something that separates us from an alien race like the Sectoids. But morality must also adapt as Humanity does. And morality, I would add, is highly subjective. Highly reliant on religion too I would add." She paused briefly. "Empathy, kindness, love, there are places for these emotions, but they are no more or less valid than other emotions we experience. Anger, pain, hope, we should not be continuously subject to them, because emotions make us unreliable. Emotion rarely leads to sound results, I have found, and that must change within us as well."

She laced her fingers together and leaned back into her chair. "Logic over emotion, justice over mercy, practicality over empathy, victory over restraint. These must happen if we, as a species, are to truly become something great and united, not to mention if we want to merely survive."

Saudia leaned forward. "I do not need the Catholic Church to agree with me, I do not need you to like me, but I would like to ask a question of you as well: Do you believe that the aliens are a threat, and that they can be beaten without us?"

"The aliens have shown a desire to kill or enslave us," he said simply. "I am not blind. We did not start this conflict, and I would never suggest that we simply give up. I do not know if you are our only hope, but at this point there is no one else."

Saudia nodded. "Without ADVENT, the Catholic Church will be destroyed. I don't know the aliens' policy towards religions, but I doubt you would survive, or if you did, the result would be a twisted version of the religion you believe in."

"And so that is your main argument," the Pope seemed amused. "'We are standing between you and death, therefore you should support us.'"

"You could calm the populations of those who are apprehensive," Saudia said. "You could play an important role in this war. I am not asking you to call a Crusade, but simply say that in light of the alien invasion, and visiting ADVENT countries, you will give the support of the Church."

The Pope laced his fingers together. "Even if I were to do that, you do understand that this is not a unilateral decision. While I speak for the Church, I do not make decisions of this scale alone."

Saudia rapped her fingers absentmindedly on the arm of the chair, wondering just how much to tell him. "And what is the current mood of them toward ADVENT?"

He cocked his head. "Some support you, many do not. They feel you are too extreme, and a threat to the Catholic Church."

"Cardinals Francis, Medina, and Piacenza?" Saudia asked evenly. "I don't suppose they are ones who have issues with ADVENT?"

He blinked in surprise. "I am curious, Chancellor, how would you know that? I suppose it would not be beyond you to place spies at the Vatican."

She had a choice here. Let things play out like planned, or let the Pope in on what was going to happen. It depended on if he could be trusted, and despite his conflicting views, he did seem to genuinely believe what he said. Which meant she would want him as an ally here. "Not so complicated as that," she said. "Holiness, do you know why I brought Stein with me?"

"To perhaps put us on guard, or intimidate us?" He answered wryly. "If that was the goal, it failed. Neither I, nor my Cardinals, succumb to intimidation easily."

"No, Holiness," Saudia said. "It is because at the end of our meeting, the SSR will storm the Vatican and arrest the following list of people." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a copy of the warrant Stein had. "You are, of course, aware that there have been cases of sexual abuse by priests."

The Pope stiffened. "Yes, of course. And I have made strides to make sure-"

"To put it bluntly, you failed," Saudia interrupted, handing him the warrant. "You are not under suspicion, my Director of Intelligence personally cleared you. However, that is not the case for your advisors. We have started at the churches, and gone up from there. This is a systemic problem in the church that has been covered up for decades, and today will be the day this rot is removed from the world."

As the Pope read the names, she continued. "Your Cardinals are thankfully not pedophiles, but they are arguably worse. They have helped cover up the cases that were reported, and they have also been responsible for monetary fraud and laundering. The paper trail and string of witnesses led us here. It took surprisingly little time to determine the culprits. Catholics are poor criminals, it seems."

"And you are suggesting that their opposition to ADVENT is because of their crimes?" he said, his voice bordering on furious.

"It is certainly a part," Saudia nodded. "I had never met you before today, so I was not sure how you would respond. We have our differences, but I believe you can be trusted. The image of the Church has suffered because of men like this, and you will not be able to change it without effort and pain. You were falsely lulled into believing this problem was close to being solved, and now you see you were wrong."

He gave a single nod. "It is clear to me now."

"We both have different views on punishment," Saudia said. "But we can both agree that men like this deserve to be found and removed. ADVENT can help with this. We can give you the means to truly reform the Catholic Church into what you want it to be. We do not care about position, influence, or money. Justice will be served, and despite our differing ideologies, we are willing to do it."

The Pope handed her back the warrant. "I do not suppose you have fully exposed the disgraces of the Church?"

"Not everywhere," Saudia shook her head. "Not even in all ADVENT states. We cannot and will not start investigations in foreign nations, but we can follow evidence that leads to there."

"And you were planning to do this without mentioning it to me, unless I passed your test of trust," he said slowly.

Saudia gave a nod. "As I said, Holiness, we do not stand by when injustice is prevalent. If you had been implicated, you would be marched before the courts now. We do not care who you are, we only care about bringing justice to those who deserve it."

He stared at her for a few moments, and seemed to come to a decision. "You have commitment, Chancellor, and more courage than I have seen in a leader in a very long while. I will need to consider what to do next, but after I make some changes to my advisors," he pursed his lips. "You may start with arresting the criminals who have perverted this holy place."

They stood and the Pope tapped a button on his wrist, and a few moments later some of the guards came in. He talked with them for a few moments, they nodded, and then left. "Do what you must," he said, taking his place at the head of the table, Saudia beside him. A few minutes later the doors opened and the Cardinals, together with Stein walked in. That was the cue.

Saudia gave her a brief smile, and Stein returned it, ice in her eyes as she took her place opposite them. The Cardinals moved to their places. "Your Holiness, was your meeting productive?" Cardinal Francis asked, looking confused as he saw Saudia still standing.

"Indeed it was," he answered, without looking over. "Chancellor Vyandar has reached an agreement with me."

"Truly?" Cardinal Daniels, likely the youngest Cardinal in the room, said.

"Yes," the Pope said, looking around at the small audience. "The Chancellor has exposed to me that the filth that permeates the Church is still alive and well, and worse, hidden by ones I considered friends and brothers."

"Your Holiness," Cardinal Medina said nervously, now eyeing Stein with obvious fear. "Please do not jump to any hasty conclusions. It is not beyond ADVENT to simply lie to achieve what they want!"

"How fortunate then that we don't lie," Stein said smugly, pulling out a thick file from a bag she must have received while Saudia and the Pope were having their conversation. "Please, Cardinal, read this and tell me if we are lying. She placed it on the smooth table and pushed it to them. No one moved to pick it up.

"Father," Cardinal Farina said quietly. "What is going on-ah!"

All of them gasped as a dozen SSR agents stormed into the room, rifles bared and in full armor. Saudia smiled at their entrance. The SSR were the absolute last people you wanted to meet if you were a criminal. Their armor was similar to that of the Shieldbearers, and were specifically designed for armed hostile encounters. Their faceplates of their helmets were slanted in a downwards V, and the rest had been inspired by the Shieldbearer ones as well. Their armor was pure black, and they didn't speak except through internal comms.

They only acted.

"Cardinals Francis, Medina, and Piacenza, you are under arrest for obstruction of justice, witness intimidation, money laundering, and failure to report criminal activity," Stein declared as the SSR began roughly grabbing the gasping Cardinals that were named, tightening cuffs around their wrists and ankles. Perhaps a bit extreme, but it was standard procedure for any arrests done by the SSR to cuff them in multiple places.

"You will be tried, sentenced, and convicted under ADVENT law," Stein continued, a satisfied smile on her face. "You will provide us with any additional information relating to crimes within the Roman Catholic Church and elsewhere. Failure to cooperate or perjury will result in an extension of your sentence. May God be with you, because we will have no mercy and you will be punished like the vermin you are." She motioned to the SSR. "Take them away, put them with the rest."

Without another word the SSR agents slung the protesting Cardinals over their shoulders and began marching out, leaving the rest of them alone, and the ones who were not expecting it, stunned. "Thank you for your cooperation, Holiness," Stein told the Pope, inclining her head. "ADVENT appreciates it."

"It was needed," the Pope admitted. "I was not aware this had still festered. Understand this," he looked around at the remaining Cardinals. "As of today this will no longer be tolerated, and it will not simply be swept aside in the name of greater concerns. ADVENT has promised to help us rid the Church of these abusers, and I will be certain they are allowed to work." He nodded at Saudia. "You are right about one thing. We must change, and this includes the Church. And change must start from the top."

Saudia smiled. "I could not agree more."

---

Undisclosed Location, United States of America

Saudia was rather happy with how that had turned out, so much so that she wasn't miffed at Dr. Kettani calling her in to discuss something that apparently had to be in person. She knew he was beginning his recruitment efforts, and she hadn't expected anything beyond updates for a while. So for him to contact her either meant that something was wrong, or there was a development so serious he needed her to review it.

She walked down to what were the acclimation rooms, where there were already some people waiting inside. They were white rooms that the potential psions waited in before being awakened, or at least that was their intended function. They were more or less glorified waiting rooms, while the doctors made the last-minute preparations.

Kettani was roughly two-thirds down the current hallway, with a few more doctors beside him, all muttering amongst themselves. "Doctor," she greeted, walking up. "What was so urgent that you needed me here?"

"Ah, Chancellor," he said, immediately turning to her. "Thank you for coming so quickly. To summarize quickly, we've hit something of an…unexpected development."

Saudia sighed. "Elaborate?"

"Do you remember how I said we probably wouldn't be able to find many psions of similar power to Patricia?" He asked, clearing his throat. "Well…we did find one. A ninety-three on the Trask Scale."

Saudia blinked. "You're certain?"

"We triple checked," Kettani assured her, handing a tablet with graphs and charts on it. "At some point we expected one like him, but not immediately. Normally, I wouldn't bother you, but something this powerful will be a little harder to keep a hold of. Imagine Patricia, but potentially more powerful."

Saudia nodded. "What do we know of him? He had to have passed the psychological tests."

"That's the thing," Kettani shook his head. "He seems completely fine. Normal. Lukas Von Theil, German Chemistry teacher, no criminal record, no military service, has a habit of posting in science forums online, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. Has an interest in alien technology, which was a reason he gave for expressing interest."

Normal. Well, that wasn't a word she'd really used in a while. Normal was definitely strange right now, but she supposed that was just how it worked sometimes. Completely ordinary people were elevated beyond what they could have expected. "I asked Elizabeth to put together a profile on him," Kettani said as they moved towards the window. "Also as innocent as you'd expect."

In the center, sitting calmly on the cushy chair was Lukas Von Theil, who didn't immediately strike her as normal. Just from his posture she could tell he was a very controlled and deliberate person, and his speech was likely the same. He had a buzz cut with his light brown hair barely standing out on his pale skin.

"Intermittent relationships with various women," Kettani continued. "Nothing malicious, but everything seems to indicate he almost grows bored of them and breaks up with them when they aren't what he considers interesting."

Saudia raised an eyebrow at that. "Odd."

"He has very high student reviews too," Kettani said. "He is, and I quote 'Very laid back', 'Actually tells us interesting stuff', and 'Anyone who uses fire is cool in my book'. The last one, I believe references an incident where Von Theil was almost kicked out for performing what was designated 'unsafe experiments'. When asked for his defense, the answer was, 'Because students aren't interested in a damn baking soda volcano. They want something to remember.'"

"Fun guy," Saudia commented. "Anything else interesting?"

"His online profile is 'Geist'," Kettani said. "Mostly restricts himself to scientific forums that I mentioned earlier. Search history is mostly benign, chemical formulas, subjects, and he has also been following the war closely." Kettani paused. "What else? No stated religious beliefs or political affiliation, no social media, keeps the very few relationships he has purely professional. He appears to be a loner through and through."

"So he seems to be clean, if somewhat odd," Saudia said. "Why do you need me?"

"Because something about him is just off," Kettani scowled. "It's not just me either, everyone else who speaks to him is the same way. Even the psion I had question him to determine without any doubt how trustworthy he was said she felt uncomfortable performing the examinations. She described it being like he knew she was going through his head, and like she was being watched inside it."

He shook his head. "Again, if this were anyone else, I'd just go ahead and do it. But considering the ramifications, I don't want to awaken a ninety-three power psion without explicit approval when things are like this."

Saudia thought for a moment. "Let me talk to him."

"Be my guest," Kettani said as he unlocked the door, and she stepped in. Lukas looked up as she walked in. He didn't get up, instead looking at her with unblinking grey eyes. His expression hadn't changed a bit as he looked her over. Already she felt what Kettani had described in how something seemed off about him. It was like she was being visibly dissected, which was not a feeling she was used too.

"Chancellor Saudia Vyandar," he said, his voice not what she was expecting. It was sort of what she was used to, but he rolled and accented his a's, making it sound like he was drawing out parts of her name. "I did not expect you to take an interest in me."

"How much has Dr. Kettani told you?" She asked.

"Oh, very little, but I was able to deduce enough," he said dismissively. "You would only go through all these hoops because I would be considered a possible threat to your precious ADVENT." He gave an eerie smile. "I assure you, Chancellor, I have no intention of breaking the terms of our agreement. You wish control, you have it, I only wish to awaken this gift inside me now."

Saudia kept her expression blank. Yes, this person was not normal, no matter what Kettani said. "And why exactly did you contact the PRIEST Program?" She asked. "You understand the conditions."

"Psionics has fascinated me since I first heard of it," he said wistfully. "Ever since I have wanted to master the secrets of this existential and mysterious gift. Your PRIEST Program was the perfect avenue, and I appear to have reached the final stage. All I suppose remains is your approval. You would not meet with someone of minor power, Chancellor, so I know that I am already useful to you. I have no fear you will abuse the bomb in my head, because as of now, I am too useful for you to kill in a childish fit of rage or fear."

Saudia's lips curled up. "You seem awfully sure of that. You don't know me."

"I know that you are a woman of practicality," Lukas said with no trace of doubt. "You do not tolerate those whose inhibitions prevent excellence. You do not hesitate when making decisions, you act. I am good at reading people, Chancellor, and if I did not believe you are who I think you are, we would not be speaking now."

"And just who do you think I am?" She asked.

"Someone who wants to bring humanity under her control," he stated calmly. "Someone who has a past they do not want questioned, and someone who will stop at nothing to destroy the aliens and the plans they have for our species. I do not care where you came from Chancellor, I suspect I will learn that in good time, but my place in this world has been one of little import by design. I know my strengths and limitations, and I intentionally placed myself where I would have the most impact. Those parameters have changed. Here is where my impact will be the greatest, and you will help me achieve that."

This man reminded her of the Commander in his reading of her and complete assurance. It was discomforting how certain he seemed, like he knew what was going to happen. From his perspective it sounded like he was simply using her to achieve 'his place', or get wherever he had the most 'impact' which could mean a number of things. He didn't strike her as an altruist, but if his intent had been otherwise, she would have been told.

Still, he had passed every test, and if a psion had gone through his mind and there was nothing…there was no reason to deny his awakening. Not that there had really been a question of throwing away someone who was a ninety-three on the Trask scale. She sincerely hoped he wasn't a telepath.

Someone like that with telepathy was concerning indeed, bomb in the head or no.

"Thank you for speaking with me," Saudia said. "Your awakening will begin shortly, Mr. Von Theil."

"Geist," he interrupted. "I would prefer to be referred to as Geist from now on. I never much cared for my name, and now is as good a time as any to change it."

Saudia shrugged. An odd request, but she didn't particularly care about this one. "As you wish…Geist." Kettani would have to update paperwork, but that wouldn't be too much trouble. She stepped out and closed the door before turning to Kettani.

"There is something strange about him," she said. "But there is no factual basis to not use him. Put him in the pod. With that said…" she paused. "Have another bomb implanted in his chest. I think we would both feel better if we are not relying on one contingency."

"Yes, Chancellor."

---

The Citadel, Situation Room

And here they were back again.

It didn't seem that long since the Commander had been here during the first attack on the United States, and this would definitely not be the last. Saudia had been busy too, first with receiving reports of the newest tactics and technological advances ADVENT had made, some of them XCOM hadn't anticipated. Then she had gone on to purge the Catholic Church of the degenerates in it, and otherwise demonstrate ADVENT's reach and intent.

Good for her. This was what ADVENT should be doing. Enforcing the law, wherever it was established, borders be damned.

And now they were all preparing to perform one of the most significant counter-attack operations of the war. One he felt the aliens would be unprepared for. "Let us begin," he said, and the holotable came up showing the West Coast. "Commander Christiaens, you can start."

"Very well," Laura first pointed at the top of the map. "There will be several objectives in this operation. We have to be very careful not to overextend otherwise the aliens will exploit that. If possible, we need to take the northwest completely, which amounts to Washington State and Oregon."

"This means Seattle is taken and Portland is completely secured," Weekes clarified. "From there, the Navy can reinforce the coasts and we can immediately begin establishing proper bases to corner the southwest."

"At the same time, we take back the major Nevada bases and cities," Laura continued, pointing for reference. "Las Vegas is destroyed, but the aliens have been making the remains and nearby bases into strongholds of their own. Should they be allowed to finish, it will severely hinder any further military operations."

"So is that the priority?" The Commander asked, looking up at her. "I need to know where best to deploy my own soldiers."

"Negative," Laura shook her head. "Las Vegas would be an excellent bonus, but the bulk of our forces should focus on securing the northwest. Seattle and Portland for sure."

The Commander nodded at Patricia. "Noted, we'll have our best there."

"We will still conduct a large attack on the Las Vegas area," Laura reminded him. "But it'll be a much harder fight, both since the aliens are entrenched and the conditions are not favorable. But I believe it is possible to take."

"I can assign some additional psions to help," the Commander nodded, scratching his chin. "Our concern is not the aliens themselves, but if the Ethereals interfere. That will be the deciding factor."

"America has been the Battlemaster's theater," Weekes said with a grim smile. "So we spook him. We fake a nuclear launch and chase him off. He won't risk getting killed by a bomb."

"Viable," the Commander nodded, thinking. "Assuming he doesn't come back immediately."

"We'll be watching for his transport," Weekes said. "It's an Overseer-class, and I believe we can take that out with enough Ravens. If we chase him into space, I'll consider that a win."

"And if he calls our bluff…" Laura shrugged. "We have Purifier teams for each operation. They'll be held back in reserve unless he's seen. All we need is to clip him and the chemical will do the rest. MDUs will also provide assistance if needed. It will be interesting to see if the Battlemaster is faster than a computer."

Considering what he knew of the Battlemaster, the Commander was skeptical that any of that would actually work, but it was much better than nothing. They had plans for the Battlemaster, and if Caelior showed up…they could use the nuclear spoof. It might work once, but not for very long. "There is some news from Australia," the Commander updated them. "Apparently the aliens are having some trouble keeping the populations in check. One city revolted and took out what appears to have been a spacecraft construction factory."

He held up a USB drive. "And we also know why they've been quiet for so long. It's like we suspected, they want to fortify the areas they do have. And they also want to purge the resistance elements from their controlled areas. That is currently having mixed results, but it's buying us some time before their next attack."

"Anything about Korea or China?" Laura asked.

"No," the Commander shook his head. "Strictly related to the Oceanic nations. But we strike soon, and we delay them even longer. The Battlemaster does not seem to want to run a multi-front attack unless it is a diversion, so we can use that to our advantage. Let us keep him in the American theater for now."

"That's the plan," Laura said. "A victory here would be a much-needed morale boost after the string of defeats. Considering what we have now…it can be done."

The Commander smiled. "It certainly can. Now we just have to make sure not to screw it up."