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.

25. Asaru

Asaru

---

The Praesidium, Patricia's Quarters – Classified Location

11/7/2016 – 2:30 A.M.

Patricia sat on the edge of her bed in the darkness, which thanks to her enhanced eyesight, turned everything a faint shade of white, illuminating the room with near perfection. Times like this she wished it was like a switch she could turn off because she really would prefer everything to just be dark around her.

Really, she should have been sleeping now. The mood in XCOM was better than it had been in a long time not only due to the resounding victory, but also bringing back eight Andromedon defectors. That was something the Commander had said would be handled the following day, and encouraged everyone to get some well-earned rest, and the Andromedons had been put in the stasis cells for the night.

Certainly an interesting development, and she was intrigued as to what they would have to say to explain what exactly motivated them to do this, but she'd been too unsettled and disturbed with herself to really take a lot of pleasure in the victory. Reading the reports about what both XCOM and ADVENT teams had found, which ADVENT had trouble explaining, put into perspective just how far she had gone.

Even the Commander had a point he wasn't comfortable with. He'd told her quite plainly that while he didn't have issues with the mass suicide, she should attempt to keep her kills quick and clean. Prolonging pain for the sake of it was both unprofessional and sadistic, words that hurt all the more so since she had strived to not be that.

She didn't know what had brought that on. At some point she'd stopped thinking in terms of beings, alien or no, and simply considered them…pawns. Pawns were puppets, tools to be used, experimented on, and discarded. It was a perspective she'd never been able to understand, at least before now.

The problem now was that she did understand it, and instead of violently dismissing it she was actually thinking about why exactly something like that had wormed its way into her mindset. This was not something spontaneous, but the culmination of her continuous training and growing skill in telepathy.

She didn't necessarily have a problem with viewing aliens as tools. Some were more than that, like Aegis, but they were ultimately the enemy. The Commander had a point that she shouldn't prolong the deaths, but what worried her was that she didn't exactly feel guilty for doing it in the first place. She'd stopped because she knew she "shouldn't be doing this", but it wasn't because she felt that it was wrong.

That worried her. Not because she cared for aliens, but because she knew that was a slippery slope down until she was thinking the same thing about people. Or worse, she'd already passed that point long ago.

No…not yet. Subduing Pakistan had been done, if not harmlessly, at least efficiently. No experimentation there. So she hadn't quite passed the point of no return. But at some point, she feared that she might, and worse, not see anything wrong with it.

A telepathic flicker beside her, and Creed breathed heavily as she heard him wake up. She mentally sighed; he'd known something was bothering her, but assumed she was just tired. He didn't know what had happened, and she wasn't quite sure if, or even how to tell him. But that wasn't fair to him, especially when he didn't have the luxury of hiding stuff from her, even if it wasn't necessarily something that he needed to know.

"I'd have thought you would be exhausted," he yawned, sitting up and scooting over to the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over and putting an arm around her. "What's going on?"

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. "Can't sleep. And…just thinking."

"Don't be vague. About what?"

She hesitated. "You read any of the reports from Las Vegas?"

Patricia only sensed some confusion. "I didn't read reports, no, but I do know you took out pretty much the entire alien force by yourself until the Gatekeeper showed up. I'd say you did good."

"That isn't the problem." She rubbed her forehead. "I did do that…but I also did…other things. I decided to experiment; test just how far I could push things. I made all the aliens puppets and made them torture, mutilate, and kill themselves just to see if I could keep their reactions under control…" She trailed off. "The autopsy reports don't exactly paint a pretty picture."

She felt his immediate surprise and shock at her admission, though nothing physical. "You said you go into trance-like states sometimes," he said after a minute or so. "Was this one of them? You didn't know really what you were doing until a certain point? You haven't done anything like this before as far as I know."

"It's not that simple, or really an excuse," she muttered. "I knew what I was doing, but it didn't really bother me because…well, they weren't really worth caring about. They were aliens. Pawns. They were going to die, so I thought I might as well get some worth out of them. They weren't thinking beings to me, just experiments."

She was silent for a minute. "I don't really even remember what made me stop. Maybe I'd commanded one alien to kill his mate in some horrific way, maybe something worse, but I knew what I was doing was wrong. So I stopped. I think the Gatekeeper showed up soon after that. Not that it made much of a difference. All the Vitakara were wrecks and the ones with their sanity intact killed themselves as a result."

Patricia's shoulders slumped. "Effective, I guess. But I shouldn't have felt the need to go that far, much less actually done it."

"But you did stop," Creed pointed out. "And you realized you went too far. What are you really worried about? If you were too far gone, you wouldn't even be this conflicted."

Patricia closed her eyes. "Because even though I know it is wrong, I'm not sure it actually was."

Now Creed felt actually concerned about her, and moved her to sit cross-legged on the bed, both of them facing each other. "I think you should explain that," he said neutrally, taking her hands.

Right. She really had to. "Because it worked," she said simply. "I know better what I can do. My telepathy is more refined. Vitakara minds," she took a breath. "Well, I think I've figured out most of them. Even Andromedons aren't as much of a mystery. I don't know…" She trailed off. "But they're the enemy. We kill the enemy, or capture if we really need to. I don't feel guilty about doing that to them. I know I should, but I don't, and I don't know if something is wrong with me or not."

She briefly let go of one of his hands, gesturing around them. "That's what we do here. We've defined ourselves by going past a lot of established lines in the name of protecting us, and honestly that is probably the reason we're still alive. Is this actually a line that shouldn't be crossed, or am I just scared because I know just what I can do?"

Creed looked down at her gently. "Do you remember when you told me that one of the things that terrified you was abusing your power? Is that still true?"

"I remember," she said quietly. "And I want it to be."

"Alright," he shifted closer. "So why can't it be?"

She shrugged. "Can I go back after this? I've already broken that rule I had."

"And what makes you have to break it again?" He questioned.

She considered that. "Nothing, I suppose."

"You can be powerful without resorting to what an Ethereal would do to us," he told her softly. "You're better than that, and I still believe it, even if I can't read your mind. You wanted to improve what you can do, but I think what probably separates powerful psions is knowing just what they need to do. You can control yourself, Patricia."

He was right on that point. Just because she did this once, didn't mean she was gone forever. "You're right," she said with a nod. "I made a mistake. I don't have to repeat it."

"Exactly," he smiled. "Now I think you should at least try to sleep-ah" He was cut off as she leaned up and kissed him, and they stayed like that for a few moments. "Or," he breathed once she broke it off. "We could do something else."

---

Unknown

Unknown Time

"You have a lot of fucking nerve," Patricia growled to the nondescript Human sitting in the middle of a flat horizonless room, in front of a table with a chair opposite it. "I suppose you just like watching, hmm?"

"I have little interest in your activities with your mate," the Imperator said nonchalantly, his facial expression not changing at all. "I was simply awaiting the opportune moment, and I thought you would prefer to have this conversation where no one else could hear. You spontaneous plans had little to do with it."

Patricia rolled her eyes, realizing she was in her armor. "How very, very thoughtful." Nevertheless, she stormed over to the chair and sat down opposite him. "And just so you know, we crushed your little army and sent your Battlemaster running. Good luck trying to gloat this time."

"Because I am certainly prone to such gloating," he said, actually attempting to be sarcastic. How cute. "I have little interest in your victories, and a loss will only make the Battlemaster stronger. The notion that you achieved anything other than a temporary victory is a delusion, but one I do not blame you for partaking in."

"Spare me," Patricia ground out, glaring at the Human form the Imperator assumed. "Somehow, I don't feel inclined to believe you right now. There's only so many times you can say we have no chance before it becomes meaningless."

"Your belief is irrelevant," the Imperator said. "I was simply stating that your assumed reasons for me speaking with you were misconceptions. Your little Archangels, MECs, Templars; none of that has attracted my attention, but you, on the other hand, managed to get mine. I did not think we would speak so soon, but your performance at Las Vegas was exceptional."

Patricia's lips pursed. "I'm not going to apologize, but it will be quicker next time."

"Amusing, that you think I care how many aliens die," the Imperator said with a humorless smile. "They can be replaced, and I do not trouble myself with them. But I can sense that you are conflicted about your actions."

"And I'm not comfortable sharing that with you." Patricia said flatly. "You are the last one I'd speak to."

"Psion Trask," the smile became knowing. "Do you really believe this is the first time a telepath of exceptional power has felt as you do? The realization of power you experienced? The euphoria of control over so many minds?" He clasped his hands together. "You are likely asking yourself many things. Questions of morality, or life, of lines crossed or left alone. This is natural. It is normal. It is what all psions, but especially telepaths, go through at some point in their lives. It was only a matter of time before you reached yours."

Patricia blinked. That shouldn't be a surprise…but then again, she'd never heard Aegis or anyone else mention it. However, this was the Imperator- "Go ahead and sense if I am lying," he said knowingly. "I have no reason to lie to you here."

Still suspicious, she tentatively examined the projection of the Imperator. She couldn't even begin to penetrate it, but he didn't seem to be lying. "Did Aegis know?" She asked.

"Highly unlikely," the Imperator answered. "Aegis, as much as you believe he is a telepath, it is not his specialty. He may be able to break into your mind, but he would never be able to do what you have done. He was designed to be an Aegis, and an Aegis he will forever be. If he had known, he would have prepared you better."

Patricia leaned back. She wasn't quite sure what to do now. "Let me guess," she said. "You went through the same thing."

"Yes, but not quite like you did," he nodded. "The thrall species of the Synthesized were attacking one of our bases. There were four Ethereals left, and we were being hunted by them. I had recently been awakened, and taken command. I knew what I was capable of, or at least I thought I did, and at one point I decided not to run, and I alone destroyed the pathetic thrall aliens that had come to kill us."

She suspected this was more impressive than it sounded. "And how many? A few thousand?"

"Four million descended upon the planet," the Imperator said. "All were defeated. There were no Director Flagships to command my attention. Not strictly telepathic, but I did reach an important realization, one which the Overmind assisted in."

Despite herself, Patricia was curious. "And what was that?"

"That holding back would accomplish nothing," he answered, standing up. "Too many beings believe that all species are equal, or that everything deserves as much consideration as the other. But you and I both know that isn't true. You learned that when you dominated the Vitakara like the puppets they are. You exposed the aliens for their weak minds then forced them to perform horrific acts. You know what they are, Psion Trask, but you do not want to say the words."

The Imperator's appearance was changing as he spoke, the skin was becoming lighter and the eyes turning purple. "They are inferior," he hissed softly. "There is no shame in stating facts you proved. You should not be ashamed to recognize yourself as better out of a misplaced empathy." The chalk-like humanoid sat back down, lips curled back in an unsettling smile.

"Do you wonder why I do not take an interest in the Collective as those such as the Battlemaster do?"

Patricia was not liking just how accurate the Imperator was sounding right now. "I assumed it was because you're lazy."

"Amusing," he said. "No. Because I do not need to. Their interests and goals are irrelevant. The species as they are now are merely setpieces until the real work begins. They are pointless and incomplete. Their purpose is none for me. Do you really think the Vitakara actually have a place in my plans?"

"Yes," Patricia said. "Otherwise you would not have wasted time on them."

"Mhmm," the Imperator looked around the white emptiness. "I presume Aegis revealed some of what Revelean and Fectorian are working on? Perhaps I should have clarified that the modern Vitakara have no place. These species are tools, Psion Trask; ones which can be enhanced or discarded at will. If they cannot stand up to a single-planet species such as yours, explain to me why I should care about them?"

Well, she actually had an answer to that. "Because it's wasteful otherwise. Doing nothing serves no purpose beyond some bizarre god complex."

"Good," he nodded. "An acceptable answer I feel. But returning to the previous point, why exactly are you afraid of accepting that you are indeed superior to those around you? Ignore your societal pressures and customs and explain."

Patricia raised an eyebrow. "You really want to know?"

"I would not be speaking if it were otherwise."

"Fine," she grunted. "Because I still want to care. About people. About things. You might laugh, but I don't want to lose my humanity. What I fight for. What I did." She gestured around. "I didn't care. I acted out of curiosity, out of a desire to be more powerful, skilled, whatever. But I didn't care about those I dominated. They were just a means to an end."

"Did you accomplish what you desired?" The Imperator asked.

"Yes."

"Do you regret what you did?"

"No. I wish I did."

"Then why are you still afraid?"

"Because soon that will spread to things I actually care about," she admitted. "I don't want to look at Creed and feel nothing. I don't want the soldiers around me to become little pawns I control like a chess game. I don't want this war to just become my quest to become more powerful. That is what I am afraid of."

She exhaled loudly. "And I'm telling this to who is probably my greatest enemy. Wonderful."

"If it is any consolation, I do not consider you an enemy," the Imperator offered. "Consider me an observer if you wish."

"Really," Patricia said dryly. "I'm working to burn your little empire to the ground. At least grant me the courtesy of recognizing me as one."

"I will, once you explain how your actions make me your enemy," the Imperator said. "At worst you've killed a decrepit member of my species and killed a small amount of my armies. You have yet to threaten me personally. And enemies generally do not converse with each other."

"I didn't exactly have a choice," Patricia pointed out.

"I haven't kept you here," he smiled. "You can sever the connection at any time."

She glared at him, but silently conceded the point. "Let me ask you a question," the Imperator said. "Why did you wish to become more skilled?"

"To make it easier to kill aliens, and you," she answered honestly.

"So," he sat back. "You weren't acting out of pure selfishness. You had reason to experiment and grow more proficient." His eyes bored into hers. "I assure you, Patricia, only the truly weak and unstable lose what drives them after experiencing what you have. You are neither. You simply just need to understand what is happening, and how to utilize it."

"Fine, I'll bite."

"Never forget what your ultimate goal is," the Imperator said. "Be it destroying the Collective, or even me. Grow your power in pursuit of this goal. Do not avoid your realization of the inferior, use it to your advantage. You need not abandon your connections to your lover or friends, after all, a victory with nothing left is simply hollow."

He shook his head. "There are many theories as to what shapes people, and to an extent all are true. Love. Fear. Pain. But none reveal the nature of a person like power. The Human saying 'Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely' is not entirely incorrect, though corrupt has a negative connotation. Power changes, and absolute power changes absolutely. It does not sound as good, but it is nonetheless more accurate."

He motioned to her. "You are, and will change, Patricia Trask. You can fight it, but you will no longer be the same woman you were even before this realization. You cannot reverse what has happened, but you can determine the person you will be. You could fight this, cut yourself off, restrict yourself, and ultimately, you would change yourself for the worse, or simply become what you currently fear."

He leaned forward. "Or you could embrace what you are. Use your gift on your enemies with no remorse, and you will accomplish your goals. Anchor yourself in your goals and relationships, and you will be a terrifying and unstoppable force. But, Patricia Trask, only you can decide what to do."

Silence stretched between them. "Why are you telling me this?" Patricia asked.

"Because I am not interested in the weak," the Imperator stated, his voice growing noticeably colder. "The Battlemaster is right to challenge your world as he is. If our Collective loses, then so be it. If I die, then I failed. But if you are to win, then I will ensure that you will carry on our mission and crush the puppeteers that control this galaxy. I have no qualms about gifting you knowledge, especially in the art of the Gift. Use it. Or do not. But there is little worth in beating an unskilled opponent."

He stood, smiling. "With that said, I think perhaps I should demonstrate just how outmatched you are." Patricia found herself standing, and they were no longer in an endless room, but standing in the vast expanse of space.

Patricia didn't have any smart comments here, this entire conversation was nothing short of unnerving and was definitely affecting her in ways she was not comfortable with. "Go ahead."

He motioned down, and the Earth was beneath them, rotating so slowly as to be imperceptible. "So many people on your planet, and aliens as well," the Imperator mused, and extended one hand toward it. The air around them shimmered, as screen-like squares made themselves apparent. Much like a screen it showed people inside them.

Civilians, soldiers, aliens, people she knew. Chancellor Vyandar talking with some military leader, the Commander and Vahlen sleeping, Abby walking through a desert of some kind. There were still more; Chinese generals looking over some kind of map, a Sargon speaking to some Andromedons, and even more, until they filled up the area around her.

"We cannot control time," the Imperator said. "But perhaps we can affect it."

He lowered a hand and everyone in the psionic screens froze. Mid-motion, mid-speech, just froze. She could still see them breathing, but they were just doing…nothing. Then all the heads turned to her direction, eyes sightlessly staring forward towards her.

"Perhaps this will illustrate the ineffectiveness of your armies," the Imperator said. "This is no illusion, Psion Trask. All those you see are indeed appearing to look at you. They do not know why they feel compelled to look that way, but they do. If you do not believe me, well, there are plenty of security recordings available."

Everything vanished and they were in the middle of a starry blackness. "Think on what I said," the Imperator told her. "I suspect we will speak again. Sleep, Psion Trask."

And the figure of the Imperator vanished, and Patricia fell into a deep sleep.

---

The Praesidium, Outside Stasis Cells – Classified Location

11/7/2016 – 1:24 P.M.

Normally, he would be extremely happy on a day like today. There were the Andromedons to debrief, and he had some meetings with ADVENT to figure out where best to go from here. However, Patricia explaining that little stunt the Imperator had pulled had put a damper on the whole day. It was unfortunately true, even if it was only for a few seconds.

Since Patricia hadn't added anything else to that, he assumed that had been the entire point of the Imperator showing up in her mind again, just to childishly taunt her. Still, this was extremely disturbing and they needed some means of anti-telepathy fast. Vahlen was already drawing up some ideas, but the best case scenario here was a couple months at least.

He glanced over at the tired face of Patricia. She did not look like she'd slept well, and considering both the day before, and the Imperator, he could understand that. Maybe he should give her a break and figure things out for a short time, perhaps a week. She wasn't the only psion anymore, and Las Vegas had been a warning sign that something needed to be done.

The Commander was more concerned about the Imperator contacting her again. Even it was only to intimidate her, he was doing this for a reason, and he didn't know what exactly to do to stop it. There had to be something more to this than him just appearing and talking to Patricia, but then again, she reported that he had never once seemed threatened by her or Humanity for that matter.

Maybe he was just bored.

Could a being like the Imperator just do things for fun?

Aegis had openly warned Patricia that the Imperator was leading her to some specific realization, and Patricia had agreed, although she said that the most he'd done was just talk to her. And not once had he tried to turn her against them, or even offer for her to join. It was, as she had put it, "Strange".

On that everyone agreed.

But now they needed to determine what V'Thrask and his Andromedons were actually doing here, and that would hopefully be settled fairly soon. The Commander waved his hand over the psionic sensor, and the shield shimmered and faded, and he, Patricia, Aegis, and Zhang stepped into the cell where V'Thrask was standing.

The suit had the acid launchers and tanks removed, but it had done very little to make the suit smaller. "An Ethereal," V'Thrask stated, the most emotion he'd heard from the alien yet. The alien actually took a step back as Aegis appraised the smaller Andromedon. "Highly improbable."

"I suppose this is confirmation that my defection has been suppressed," Aegis said flatly. "Unsurprising."

"Yes, we have an Ethereal working with us," the Commander confirmed. "And it hasn't been publicized for several reasons. Namely, that we don't want the full force of the Collective being sent our direction."

"This changes the parameters significantly," V'Thrask continued. "All data gathered has been under the assumption of pure Human innovation. Ethereal support raises chances of success significantly."

"To be fair," Patricia said. "Everything ADVENT has done has been on their own. Aegis has only helped us out with some of our stuff. Mostly psionics and Gateways."

"It is unfortunate that we are unable to establish contact with the Federation immediately," V'Thrask said slowly, suit whirring as he looked down at him. "That the Ethereals have hidden this from us would be catastrophic."

The Commander looked up at Aegis. "Would it?"

"Unlikely," Aegis said. "The Federation would not move against the Collective. Tensions would rise, but nothing would be accomplished."

A low gurgle came from the Andromedon suit. "Ethereal Aegis, I am afraid that you underestimate how severe things are becoming in the Federation. Your Collective is far more fragile than you are aware of. I am not talking of the ongoing feud between the Federation and the Greater Hive Commanders, but this is within the Unions themselves."

The Commander crossed his arms. "I am very interested to hear this. So, why are you defecting?"

"As I stated earlier, I, and those with me, were under orders," V'Thrask began. "I am from the Andromedon Union Viarior, and there are those from the Apear, Reinarm, and Haruma as well. You are familiar with them, Ethereal; you should know what that implies."

"It raises questions," Aegis said. "Viarior I can understand, but the others seem odd."

"Why?" Zhang demanded.

"Before I explain why this is significant, you must understand the current situation within the Federation," V'Thrask interrupted. "The Unions are beginning to split again. Lines are being drawn unofficially. Chief Overseer Chernior, the leader of the Federation, and by extension, our species, has been attempting to project some measure of unity, but it is only a matter of time before the Hive Commanders learn of it, and I suspect the Zararch already know."

"Likely," Aegis agreed.

"Are you saying the Andromedons are facing a civil war?" The Commander asked, frowning.

"That," V'Thrask emphasized. "Depends on a great many factors, one of which is your own species and this conflict. The Federation is not nearly aware of what is actually happening here as you might think, but they know that this should realistically not be even close to a battle. Something else is happening, and they need to know why."

He looked towards Aegis. "They suspected it was because Humans are psionically capable and the Ethereals wanted to take care. Now it might be due to that one of their own has defected. As I said, an improbable development."

"So is the Federation waiting for something?" Zhang asked. "Our victory or defeat?"

"And that is where the rising Union tensions are coming into play," V'Thrask explained. "There are certain Andromedons who are frustrated with the seeming lack of leadership in the Collective, with the exception of the Battlemaster, and want to split off from it. There are two things stopping this from happening, the first is that there is no reliable defense or information on the living Ethereals, and it would be suicide to face the Sectoids, Vitakara and Mutons all on their own."

He paused. "The second, and more important, is that the majority of the Federation considers the Greater Hive Commanders a threat, and that, more than anything else, is keeping the Federation together. The Unions may hate each other, but faced with a larger threat, we will unite against it."

"The Federation fears the Hive Commanders that much?" Patricia questioned.

"They are an amoral race of drones led by equally ruthless telepathic masters," V'Thrask stated. "They have never liked us. We have always distrusted them. It has been that way for a century and has slowly but surely deteriorated. The Hive Commanders build their fleets by the thousands, and hinder our own efforts. The Ethereals do not intervene, and most in the Federation do not believe we can rely upon them if it comes to war."

"I suppose the question is if the Federation is willing to go to war," the Commander noted. "Whoever made the first strike would likely gain the support of the Ethereals paying attention."

"The Sectoids are psionic," V'Thrask said. "That automatically makes them more valuable. But you are correct. Tensions will simply keep rising until one takes the risk. If the Ethereals are watching, and have chosen to still not intervene…then some suspect they will simply let the Federation and Hive Commanders fight if they avoid Vitakara and other Collective military worlds."

"Incorrect," Aegis interrupted. "A war would be ended in days. Whichever side started it would have their leadership purged. Do not make the mistake of thinking that the Imperator is not watching."

"You still haven't answered why you are here," the Commander reminded him. "The situation is tense with the Federation. How does that relate to you?"

"There are a small group of Andromedons who would prefer you succeed," V'Thrask said. "They see this as the best chance to break the Collective apart. They would support your war against the Collective. In return, should you defeat the Hive Commanders and Ethereal Collective, you would allow the remains of the Federation to establish themselves as an independent power."

"The remains of the Federation?" Zhang noted.

"Openly allying with your species would lead to a civil war," V'Thrask stated bluntly. "There are enough Unions and Andromedons who are Collective loyalists, even if they despise the Hive Commanders. The Battlemaster is extremely respected by our species, as is the Collective military." V'Thrask bowed his head. "However, the Battlemaster does not expect treason, not from the Andromedons. We were placed here over a period of months for the sole purpose of eventually establishing contact with you, Commander. Our task has been accomplished and you are informed about the current situation. If you want, we can continue to provide our expertise against the Collective itself. Each of us are experts in our field. Engineering, artificial intelligence, chemical warfare. While your species has made impressive strides, you are lacking in many areas."

The Commander exchanged a glance with Zhang, who gave a single nod. V'Thrask was definitely not lying; either Patricia or Aegis would have said something, and now they had potential allies should they ever move outside Earth. While he didn't exactly like the idea of Andromedon allies, he wasn't going to refuse their help, since they ultimately weren't the real problem.

The information that the Federation and Greater Hive Commanders were on the verge of…if not war, then some kind of conflict…that was extremely interesting and useful. The more he thought about it, the less stable the Collective really was. The only thing that was keeping everything from completely falling apart were the Ethereals, and depending on how things went, more could die in the coming months and years.

There was no unity in the Collective. The entire thing was based on fear; fear that defying the Ethereals would lead to death. Not unreasonable, but impossible to build something sustainable on. While Ethereals like the Battlemaster did what they could, that clearly was not solving the underlying issue of what was keeping the Collective together.

He wondered if any Ethereal had come to this conclusion.

Perhaps they had, and they simply did not care. It would not surprise him.

"Fine," the Commander nodded. "You help us get the Collective off Earth, and we'll eventually get you back to the Federation and help kill the Hive Commanders and Ethereals. I'm sure we can find some use for you here."

"Excellent," V'Thrask said. "While all of us are experienced in combat, I suspect it would not do to participate in operations alongside you. But we will assist where you need us."

"In that case," the Commander said slowly, rather surprised he was even in a position to say this. "Welcome to XCOM, V'Thrask."

---

Unknown Location – Argentina

11/8/2016 – 10:17 A.M.

To say it had been an interesting week would be a severe understatement. There were plans and strikes to carry out as usual, and several of his people recently come from Africa were certainly talking of interesting developments. Supposedly something big was coming relatively soon, but he was likely going to be distracted by everything else that had happened. Africa, right now, was just not important.

The muted TV played silently in front of his chair, with some TV anchor showing the Chancellor giving some speech, which was likely some variation on "With this victory, we have reminded the aliens that we will not go quietly into the night, we're going to live on…"

He snorted and shook his head. If the Chancellor decided to just blatantly rip off speeches from good invasion movies, he might be more inclined to watch. As it was, ADVENT's own counterattack had been both a surprise and a curiosity to watch. The aliens had been clearly caught off guard, and he could give ADVENT credit where it was due, it was legitimately impressive.

Now if that would last, he was less sure of. In fact, he knew it wasn't going to last. Ignoring that this was an alien species, it was just how war worked. ADVENT would get a big victory, which was going to come at some point, then likely a few days or weeks later, the aliens would fight back. It was just going to be a continuous back and forth until one side hurt the other too badly. And right now, Volk knew that ADVENT would exhaust itself long before the aliens did.

Still, their focus on the aliens was good for him. Less attention being paid to the lesser countries across the world, and the borders with foreign nations weren't getting the attention they needed. Perfect for making sure the Peacekeepers stayed well away from Argentina. But there was only so much that he could do, and he'd been content with that given that work was never in shortage.

Until he'd received a very mysterious package.

That had been surprising on multiple levels, since for one, only a very few people knew his actual location, and all of them he trusted with his life, and said package had not come from any of them. It was unmarked, and was small enough to fit into his hand. The initial instincts of himself and his people were a very poor assassination attempt. Package bombs and poisons were not unheard of when his location was more public, so they'd followed their own procedures.

Once it had been confirmed that it wasn't a bomb, or poisoned, they'd opened it and inside was some circular device with a note with instructions written in English, but decidedly strange handwriting. Volk had his suspicions when he'd seen the handwriting, and when it had turned out that it was some kind of holoprojector, it had been confirmed.

He pressed the button on the holoprojector, needing to see it once again. A blue figure appeared, a seemingly large Vitakarian wearing some kind of light armor which had an unidentifiable emblem that was likely some hieroglyph or word in their language emblazoned on the upper right chest. Other than that, the alien had no weapons or other identifying features. Aside from the obvious glowing eyes and the timbre all Vitakara seemed to have when they spoke of course.

"Greetings, Konstantine Volikov," the recording began, in perfectly spoken English. "My name is Zar'joreal'mattis, designated representative of the Ethereal Collective and the Elder Asaru for the purposes of this message. We have been gathering information on your world and are aware of your current operations in South America and beyond."

The alien paused. "While we understand you may have some reservations given the larger situation, your own work indicates that you are aware ADVENT is not as truthful as it appears, and certain important facts about us have been…omitted, for admittedly obvious reasons."

Volk had to smile mirthfully at that. While ADVENT were no saints, the insinuation that they lied about everything or even major things was questionable at best. Like the little fact that this entire invasion was unprovoked, or Australia for that matter. But he kept listening.

"We recognize that we have made some missteps in the handling of your species, and it is now time, we believe, to begin rectifying that and working with certain parts of your species more closely. We are willing to meet you and discuss your current operations and how we can support them, and with your cooperation, we can move forward from there. If you wish to accept, simply press the black button on the side of this communicator which will establish a link with me. Both I and Elder Asaru look forward to your response."

The hologram vanished. He looked over to Elena who was staring at where the hologram had been, her face complexly blank as usual, but she was blinking intermittently and not messing with the partially disassembled pistol in her hands. He knew her enough to know that was her thinking overtime. "Still think I should go through with it?"

Right now, that was the plan. There couldn't be too much harm in meeting. Well, there could be, but the aliens knew he existed now, which was not something he could ignore. For all he knew, refusing would just lead to them killing him. Accepting could at least give him some information about what they wanted. He wasn't going to do anything he didn't want to, but if he was going to force the aliens to kill him, it was going to be on terms he had some control over.

He was also curious to meet this Asaru.

"Impossible to determine plausibility of honesty without further interrogation of species in question," she answered automatically. "More information can only be ascertained by contact. Answer unchanged." She glanced down. "I am sorry."

He set the holocommunicator down and went to sit by her, feeling guilty he'd brought it up again. Elena was taking her inability to determine if an alien, which she had no experience with, was lying or not, much harder than she really should. It wasn't entirely her fault she was that way; he blamed the GRU for that.

"It's out of your control," he told her, taking one of her hands off the table. "You did fine. And I think you can fix that in the future."

Her mind immediately jumped to what he could mean like that. "Interview/Interrogation of captured alien personnel?"

Well, maybe not quite like that. "If this goes through…maybe you can just talk to them?"

One firm nod. "Acceptable. Deficiencies will be fixed. Upon contact, what is your plan?"

"Right, that." He scratched his beard, a smile coming to his face. "I think we should make a lasting impression. Make it clear where we stand and that we're doing this our way."

Elena returned to assembling her weapon. "Aliens are notably advanced in technological aspects, and have displayed more military might than we currently command. Demands will likely be ineffective; negotiating advantage is not in our favor."

"Perhaps," Volk said slowly. "But I'm not going to be an alien puppet, and right now, I'm guessing the aliens need us more than we need them."

Elena paused, looked up and frowned at him. "Implausible. Alien forces are estimated to outmatch our own-"

"Elena," he interrupted with a smile, glad she was seeming at least curious enough to speak more about this outside of necessities. "If that were the case, then why contact me at all?"

She blinked twice, and considered for a few moments. "They approve of your work against ADVENT. Our work."

He grunted. "Probably at least one reason. Really, Elena, I don't know why, but I do have some leverage here, and I'm going to use it. But you're going to be there when we meet. I don't trust anyone else more than you."

"Good," she appraised her completed weapon. "Operatives retained are insufficient to properly protect you. If the aliens try to trick you, they will die." Volk smiled at that, because he knew that wasn't an idle threat. If Elena didn't like where the aliens were leading him and blew the brains out of whoever this representative was, well, then the alien alliance wouldn't happen. A shame, but he trusted her instincts over his own.

There were advantages to being the leader. He had many tricks, but very few would ever predict that the most effective one would just so happen to be the woman he loved.

Always amusing to see idiots underestimate both of them. And he knew exactly what he was going to do now. Risky, but then again, so was this entire event.

---

Abuja – Nigeria

11/9/2017 – 12:02 P.M.

The good news was that progress was being made. President Okon had assured her that he had reached out to 'certain parties', though had not disclosed exactly who to her until now. In the meantime, she'd let him begin the political aspects, while she had worked to establish her own soldiers more permanently, and Okon had 'gifted' them a large district in Bwari.

While he didn't explicitly confirm it, she was fairly sure he'd displaced the few people who were living there, much to her displeasure. It wasn't even as nice as an ADVENT base, but there was electricity and running water, as well as plenty of bunks. They'd converted some of the buildings to armories and storage areas, and the rest were improvised barracks. Some of the Engineers brought along were looking into improving what they had, but that would take time.

Unfortunately, displacing people was a topic that was something to bring up with him later, and in the meantime she'd been busy working on getting everyone situated. She had many of her soldiers working with the Nigerian military to bring them up to some level of ADVENT standards.

Betos did have to admit that the multi-national nature of ADVENT meant they had a rather diverse coalition, even if her own group was composed of primarily Israeli, American, and German soldiers. Still, the Nigerian soldiers had paid attention to what they did share, and the remaining deserters were deciding to take some liberties with their own armor.

She wasn't sure if she should be enforcing some harsher standards, but she personally didn't care overmuch if they decided to spraypaint and color their armor different from the standard black, blue, white, or green. They weren't part of ADVENT anymore, and were technically not part of anyone else's military either. So some standards could be relaxed.

"A word of warning, Marshal," President Okon said to her while they stood overlooking part of the entrance to the Presidential Palace, where they were waiting for his guests to arrive. "These men may not be who you expect, though I ask you to forget your…prejudices…when speaking."

She pursed her lips. "That is not for you to decide, President Okon. And I think it is past time you informed me who you are expecting." Perhaps it was presumptuous of her to speak like that to the President of Nigeria, but she wasn't ignorant of the fact that she was in a stronger position than he wanted to admit.

"I suppose you are owed that much," he agreed, not facing her. "The presidents of Chad, Niger, and Cameroon; Babikr Kone, Ezeudo Ifekristi, and Atem Esaba, respectively, of course. They have agreed to speak about a more permanent alliance of African power." He gave her a sidelong look. "You wish the unification of Africa, yes?"

She gave a nod. "That is the only way you have a chance."

Okon chuckled. "Perhaps, perhaps, but you realize that cannot be done with peace exclusively." His nose wrinkled in disdain as the first limo began pulling up. "There are many undesirables that inhabit our nations. Terrorists, thieves, rebels; people who disrupt our stability. An alliance weakened with this rot will not stand against anything, much less the might of ADVENT."

Again, she was not liking the feeling she was getting from this. "Rebels and terrorists. I imagine they have motives?"

"The usual," he snorted. "Corruption, 'abuse of power', pitiful excuses designed to appeal to western sympathies. As if they know anything about what is required to run a government."

On one hand, Betos was unfamiliar with the intricacies of the African nations, and Okon did have a point. Revolutionaries were often more idealistic than practical, and the ones that emerged victorious had a fairly high chance of collapsing soon after, and terrorists had no motivation beyond killing those they hated.

It was an important distinction. Terrorists were driven by hate; rebels and revolutionaries by hope and dreams. Terrorists had no goal outside death; rebels at least had some larger goals to strive towards. And many governments often ascribed the word 'terrorist' when it wasn't nearly as simple. Palestine had been handled that way, and in that lens, the outcome was almost assured.

Betos didn't particularly like the idea that she was likely going to be working with some probably terrible people. She didn't know for sure, and Okon was going to explain everything smoothly, but her instincts told her that this wasn't exactly the right side.

"You would make a better first impression if you wore something more appropriate," Okon said as he turned around, and Betos followed him into the Presidential Palace. "While it may be acceptable elsewhere, your military rank and…experience…is atypical, especially of a woman."

Betos resisted bristling. "I doubt you are suggesting that they are intimidated by me?"

"Considering you are wearing armor to an otherwise formal occasion, it is not unlikely," Okon smiled. "But consider it a warning that they are less likely to respect you."

"Too bad," Betos shrugged. "I'm a soldier, not a diplomat, and I'm not going to coddle supposed leaders of countries because a woman in combat gear makes them uncomfortable. I'm here to help you keep ADVENT out of Africa, and that's it."

"If you insist," Okon sighed. "As long as you are aware of the consequences." They walked through the ornate hallways, which Betos still personally found a little too gaudy for her liking. Maybe she just didn't like the shining white paint everywhere. At least Okon had taken her advice about making sure everything was protected, and there were a fine mixture of her soldiers and Nigerian military guards at all doorways and hallways, not including the small guard that was following them.

One of the Nigerian soldiers came up to Okon and told him something quietly. The President nodded, glancing at her. "The first of our guests has arrived, let us prepare accordingly." Just as well, since they were going towards the small dining room anyway. Okon planned to have the talks take place over a meal, which seemed fairly standard.

The dining room was very similar to where she'd first talked with Okon himself, with a beautifully set table for five, and delicious-looking and smelling food on it. The stage was set, and now all that remained was for the actors to finally meet. At the very least, she was making progress here, and the next few hours would determine if that was a good or bad thing.

Knowing how things typically went, she was assuming that it would be a little bit of both.

---

Resistance Camp Outskirts, Northern Territory – Australia

11/9/2016 – 2:12 P.M.

Abby was rather happy, and not just because she'd identified another potential target to liberate. Adelaide wasn't the largest city in Australia, but it was one that was under a fairly light alien guard, or so it had seemed from several days of scouting. Timed right, they could liberate thousands of people and damage the alien operations here even more.

They also didn't appear to be doing anything important with the city either, so that would only make the mission easier. Harper could probably be convinced, and the Chronicler would almost certainly go along with it. And on top of that, ADVENT crushing the aliens in America was definitely something that, while she hadn't expected, had given her a surge of confidence.

While they had been making progress here, ultimately they were doing little more than irritating the aliens. Abby knew their effect was minimal, and the heavy legwork would have to be done by ADVENT and XCOM, and recently things had not exactly been looking good. But now it seemed like there was some measure of control being established.

Abby froze as her hand went to her pistol as she heard something scuttling in the bushes. While the arid and rather empty Australian wasteland was something she personally despised, one benefit was that it was almost impossible for her to be surprised. In contrast, the Resistance had set up where there was some cover from vegetation; scratchy bushes and trees, with some high weeds and ferns for good measure. Climate-wise, it was better, but it also allowed for ambushes, which she supposed was perhaps the point.

However, to her knowledge, Harper would have his soldiers just approach her normally, not hide in the bushes. And come to think of it, around this time there were generally guards…she holstered her pistol and unstrapped her rifle and took a cautious step forward. "Step out from the bushes!"

To her horror, there was a familiar animal shriek and a Chryssalid leapt out, spittle flying from its teeth and the purple carapace glittering in the sunlight. Abby didn't even think and fired a burst from her rifle, which punctured the alien in the head and torso. It shrieked again and fell to the ground, and another burst with her rifle finished it off, though she fired again to be sure it was dead.

Once that was done, she immediately reloaded, because if there was one Chryssalid here, there would be more around, and if there were Chryssalids around, there were going to be other aliens. She had a sickening feeling she knew what had happened. That would explain why she hadn't been able to update Harper earlier. She hadn't thought much of it because communication was sporadic to begin with, and it wasn't the first time she hadn't been able to get into contact. However, she'd sent a message which meant…

She crept up to the bushes, trying to keep low as she surveyed the surrounding vegetation. Everything screamed for her to rush to the camp immediately since some of them may be alive, but she knew that was likely the fastest way to her getting killed. Calm, calm. She took a second to catch her breath and assess what she knew.

One: There were aliens here. Chryssalids and probably more.

Two: There were no sounds of fighting, which meant either everyone was dead or they were recovering. That there was a Chryssalid indicated the former.

Three: If they had access to the communications, they might be expecting her.

Four: Where the hell was the Chronicler?

Something like this shouldn't have happened if he was there. He wasn't flashy with his abilities, and she knew he didn't like people knowing about them, but he should have been able to sense them coming and either redirect them or kill them. So either he hadn't been here or…oh, that wasn't good.

Or the Ethereals could have figured out there was a psion with the Resistance and sent one of their own to kill him.

Retreat might be the best option, but the problem was that she had nowhere to go. She had one little Humvee, which would not have enough gas to get to the other, smaller camps, which for all she knew, had been similarly attacked. She didn't have powerful enough communication equipment to contact XCOM, and with all that, she needed to know at least if there were survivors. So she moved forward slowly, methodically, aiming her weapon at every sound.

Now that she was closer to the camp, the signs of battle were clear. There were piles of Chryssalid corpses, and even more bodies of Resistance soldiers, some of whom were torn apart from the Chryssalids implanted in the bodies and hatching. The odor was already pungent in the hot Australian sun, and the yellow and red blood of Humans and aliens splattered and drying on the dirt.

The mix of tents and temporary plastic structures seemed largely intact, oddly enough, even with some clear rips and dents. But it seemed deserted, aside from hundreds of people dead in the center area. She decided it was worth risking exposure, since there was nowhere else to go, even if it looked like no one was alive.

She carefully stepped through the mass of corpses, and began noticing that the methods of death were not the same. The soldiers on the edges of the camp were clearly ripped apart unceremoniously and messily; by claws and teeth. These…these were precise cuts. Abby knelt down, frowning as she looked at the corpse of a soldier whose throat had been split, and the ones next to him had been killed with a stab wound to the heart.

Yes, it definitely wasn't a firearm, nor was it plasma or laser. How could someone get close enough to stab someone through the chest? The only aliens she was aware of that even used melee weapons were the Battlemaster, some Dath'Haram, and the Oyariah. Maybe this was done by Dath'Haram? But with the amount of corpses around with those same kinds, either a small army of nothing but them had come, or this was something else.

She scanned the faces, looking for ones she recognized. Harper would have gone down fighting with his men. She didn't see Joseph either, though it was entirely possible he was just buried under more corpses or lying face-down. Nor did she see the Chronicler, who would be more distinct, even in this mess.

Abby made her way to the command tent, still not hearing anything, and pushed open the flap and saw everything largely as she had left it. The maps, table, and equipment were still there, but there was no one else, no bodies either thankfully. The air suddenly shimmered beside her and the Chronicler literally stepped out of thin air.

"Too late," he muttered, not seeming to notice her at first. "A problem."

"Where were you?" Abby demanded, temporarily forgetting his suddenly appearing out of nowhere. "Everyone is dead!"

"Wait," he held up a hand, cocking his head. "No, not everyone. Harper and a few soldiers are barricaded in one of the barracks structures. You're still in danger here. This place is not abandoned."

Abby breathed a sigh of relief. Good news. Sort of. "What else is left?" She asked. "I killed a Chryssalid here, but there may be more."

"The Chryssalids are gone," the Chronicler stated, walking out into the open again, face hardening once he saw the mass of corpses. "This should not have happened. In answer to your question, I was doing some scouting of my own. Away from here, clearly. But I think the aliens know I exist."

"Wonderful," Abby muttered, weapon still raised as she looked around. "How?"

"I don't know," he admitted, gingerly stepping forward. She wished he had his armor on, but instead he wore the typical desert survival gear most of the Resistance had, much lighter than her own. "But something was interfering with my telepathy, redirecting it, lulling me into a kind of complacency. When I detected it, it vanished and I knew something had likely happened. So I came back."

"We'll discuss how you did that when we get Harper out of here," Abby said. "Where are they?"

"In the-ah!" The Chronicler gasped and Abby leapt back as a dark grey blade sprouted from his chest, a towering armored figure appearing behind him. The being pulled out the blade, flinging the droplets of blood behind it with a flourish. The armor on the alien was slim and form-fitting, with a base of dark grey with a dark red highlighting the boots, pauldrons and gauntlets.

On the chest was the same stick-figure like Ethereal that she recognized from the report on the Senorium alien. While it did seem smaller in mass, it still had to be at least seven or eight feet tall. The helmet matched the rest of the form-fitting style, and was a thin grey faceplate with slanted eye slits which glowed purple.

"You aren't supposed to be here," the alien growled, a rasping and guttural voice, which seemed to actually be female in origin. It was hard to tell with aliens. "You were supposed to be away." Abby fired her weapon and the alien raised a hand, stopping her gauss slugs and then gesturing, throwing her back where she slammed against one of the plastic structures.

The Chronicler had amazingly not fallen over, but instead turned to the alien, smiling even though clearly in some amount of pain. "You wouldn't be the first to underestimate what I can do."

She swung her blade clearly intending to either slice him open or behead him, but the Chronicler didn't even move, instead let the blade come to him, only for it to hit an invisible wall mere millimeters from his neck. He peered curiously up at the alien. "Curious. Just what are you?"

"The one who will kill you," it hissed, thrusting out a hand encased in crackling psionic energy and pressed it towards him only for the Chronicler to flick his fingers and send her flying backwards. She did recover gracefully and landed perfectly on her feet with a backflip.

"You are no Ethereal," the Chronicler chided, taking some careful steps toward her. "Whatever you are, I think it is you who will die today. I'm afraid I don't have that luxury yet."

"Fool!" She growled, the air behind her shimmering with purple energy as she built up some kind of psionic wave. "I cannot be killed."

With a push the wave roared towards the Chronicler, throwing bodies and debris that were already partially disintegrating from the corrosive energy, which the Chronicler responded to by raising a hand and a purple shield appeared in front of the wave, stopping it completely. Abby felt completely useless as she just watched; she knew she would only get in the way if she got involved again, and better to have the Chronicler focus only on this alien than worry about protecting her as well.

"Not bad," the Chronicler complimented mockingly as he made a twisting motion with his hands, and all the joints of the alien suddenly averted with a loud snap, causing the alien to half-growl, half-scream in pain as she collapsed to the ground in a heap. But to Abby's surprise, it barely worked for more than a few seconds.

The alien flung out one limb, as if snapping it back into place, did the same with the other one, and physically straightened out the legs, before standing, reaching for her blade. "Who are you, psion?" She demanded, now appraising the Chronicler more carefully. "No one has ever done that before."

"Someone who is far more powerful than you can hope to be," he answered, all humor gone. "I would advise you leave now before this gets worse."

The alien chuckled. "A worthy challenge then." She flourished her blade and vanished into the air and immediately appeared beside the Chronicler and swiped down, only to be blocked by the Chronicler's own psionic blade which immediately moved to block her next few swipes, before she vanished again and materialized behind him, though the Chronicler blocked her just as easily.

The attacks the alien sent out became much more complicated. She was somehow sending out waves of psionic energy with her blade swings, and somehow teleporting to multiple angles within seconds of each other in an attempt to overwhelm him. The Chronicler surrounded himself in a psionic shield, negating the worst of it, but he appeared to be taking her more seriously.

This alien must have had some resistance to telepathy, otherwise Abby felt the Chronicler would have ended this a while ago. "Enough of this," she heard the Chronicler rumble, his voice layered deeply as he was drawing on his psionic power. He extended a hand and the blade of the alien was ripped out of her hands, and he somehow imitated her teleportation attack, appearing right behind her and slashing downwards, cleaving successfully through the part of her shoulder that wasn't as armored, and followed up by pulling out another smaller knife-like attachment in the hilt of the sword itself and stabbing it into her chin, and using the longer blade to plunge through her neck, and thrust a hand out, sending her flying back.

There was a brief interlude of nothing, as the alien was…not motionless, but not going to get up anytime soon. How it was still alive Abby had no idea, but it seemed to be largely over. She moved to walk over when the Chronicler raised a hand in her direction. "Wait."

She raised her weapon, useless as it might be in the direction of the alien, which now had some nebulous purple aura around it, faintly clinging to the alien body, which first used her good arm to yank the knife out of her chin, and slowly pulled out the sword lodged in her neck while standing up. Both weapons fell to the ground with dull thuds, as the severed arm was pulled to her, and held under the stump that was light with bright purple thread-like lines and what looked like swirling matter.

Once it was attached, she flexed it experimentally, and with a motion the knife was returned to the blade with a click and she held it pointed to them. "I warned you," she hissed, nothing in her voice indicating the injury she had sustained. "I. Cannot. Die!"

Abby saw the Chronicler frown. She had no idea what would happen. Maybe explosives would work? But the alien had not died from two fatal wounds, and was clearly enhanced with some kind of nanotech and psionic…something. The Chronicler was clearly more powerful, and could likely hold out for as long as the alien, but that wasn't a large advantage when the opponent was seemingly immortal.

"Get Harper and the survivors," the Chronicler told her as he appraised the alien. "I'll keep her busy." Abby didn't wait to see what he did, and dashed towards where the Chronicler had initially pointed to where the survivors were, stepping over wrecked bunks and bodies, until she found a clearly barricaded door, which was supposed to be a debriefing room, although very, very small.

"Harper!" She yelled, hearing the unearthly sounds of psionic combat outside. "Open up now!"

"Is the area secure?" The voice of Harper called out.

"No," Abby glanced behind her at the exit. "But it's contained. You need to get out now!"

"Hold on." It took nearly a minute of rustling and moving before the door opened to reveal a haggard, blood-streaked Lincoln Harper, with one less eye; the ruined one was an untreated gory mess. The rest of the survivors were not much better, with bandaged wounds, limbs twisted at bad angles, and otherwise looked exhausted, even if they still clung to their weapons. Three men and one woman were with him, some of the faces she recognized, but no one she really knew.

"What's going on?" One of them asked.

"Some alien attacked me when I came back," she answered. "She's currently being fought off by…just come on, we shouldn't waste more time. Can all of you move?"

"We can move," Harper affirmed. "Though some of us can't fight at the same time."

Abby shrugged and waved them towards the exit. "Not much we can do to help anyway."

She guided them out where the Chronicler was currently bathing the alien in psionic energy, which was causing severe damage to the armor, but otherwise didn't seem to be hurting her, and she was continuing her teleportation making it even more difficult to actually keep her pinned. Harper looked on in disbelief. "That's-"

"Yeah," Abby said, keeping to the side of the conflict. "No questions yet."

The Chronicler seemed to sense where they were, and released a massive telekinetic wave towards the alien which caught her and flung her backwards. "These aliens are more dangerous than I anticipated," the Chronicler told her as they came closer. "They should not be possible, not without extensive technology the Ethereals do not possess. This will require further investigation. In the meantime, you need to be removed here to warn XCOM. Harper, were all the cells hit?"

Harper got over his shock quickly. "I don't know, but I did have contact with several backup ones. Where were-"

"Unimportant," the Chronicler looked at them, even as the alien was getting up and walking back. "ADVENT and XCOM need to be warned. I know one place that isn't hit. You will be set there until we can determine the extent of this attack."

"Set?" Abby wondered, nervously glancing at the alien.

"A way to get you out," he gestured and it went flying again. "You'll be able to contact XCOM and ADVENT from there. I would advise you keep my role quiet until I return. It will not be long, and this might feel strange."

He raised a hand towards them, and there was a brief shimmer and they were all suddenly someplace else.

---

Unknown Location – Argentina

11/9/2016 – 3:33 P.M.

Volk was definitely not planning to let the aliens see his actual base, so he and several of his people had established a temporary camp where, if things didn't go right, the main camp would be safe. The designated meeting location was in an open plain right before one of the forests where they were camped.

It really was a beautiful day with a slight breeze and cloudy sky. The vegetation was a healthy green, and more importantly, provided his snipers cover while they were aiming out to where the UFO was set to land. Volk did not know exactly what to expect, except that the Vitakarian representative had assured him that Asaru would speak personally.

Elena was the only one beside him, and she had her hood up and geared for battle. He was similarly armed, though thought this would be best conducted face to face; hoods weren't needed since they knew who he was already. Either way, he felt suitably protected and his scouts had confirmed that there were no alien snipers or similarly hidden agents.

The aliens could come to Earth, but they just were not experienced enough to blend in.

"Ah, here it comes," Volk said to no one in particular. One of the circular UFOs he'd seen so often on the ADVENT news shot overhead and hovered over the plains. The metal was a dark grey as opposed to the regular bright shimmering silver the other ones had. But aside from that, it looked completely identical to one of the fighters.

He saw Elena grip her weapon tighter, and he knew she was getting ready in case she had to shoot something the moment it stepped outside. Unlikely to be needed, but that was just how she was. The UFO slowly lowered itself, not generating any wind, but somehow blowing the grass directly underneath it down.

"I don't like how it feels," Elena muttered quietly. "I don't like how it sounds."

Now that Volk paid attention, he did now hear the low constant thrumming that was just on the edge of his hearing. It was low and continuous, likely some kind of engine or generator, he did not find it difficult to block out. But every few seconds he did feel something like a pulse; imperceptible and it didn't seem to do anything, but he still felt it.

That made him uncomfortable. Hopefully the aliens would shut it off.

"Let's go greet our alien friends," Volk said, and walked closer to the UFO. The pulsing was definitely based on distance, since he definitely felt it more often the closer he got, even if the intensity was exactly the same. He was getting concerned it was going to make Elena preemptively react to any surprises, and he couldn't exactly fault her for that.

They waited for several minutes, and the pulsing suddenly stopped. Thank God. Still, the aliens were taking their sweet time coming out. They were deliberately waiting for something, and he was trying to not just go up and see if anyone was inside. Maybe they intended for him to enter the UFO? If so, they were going to be waiting a while. There was no chance he was going to go in there, Elena or no.

Then the multicolored shield that seemed to function as a kind of door suddenly dissipated. Good, at least they were going to come out. But to his surprise, no alien of any kind walked out.

Instead, out came the most beautiful woman Volk had ever seen.

Wavy brown hair sharply cut off at the shoulders framed a face that he could best describe as 'regal', with fair skin, unmarred features and entrancing violet eyes. Her face was warm, inviting and caring. Her body was just as perfect, well-toned and only slightly shorter than he was. She was also dressed in what appeared to be some kind of alien armor, which had thin silver plates that protected the limbs and torso, while the underarmor garments were a dark grey. Aliens liked that color. She carried no helmet, nor any weapons, and walked with a quiet confidence towards him.

He was immediately suspicious.

While he couldn't deny that the aliens had somehow managed to figure out his physical preferences, it was suitably unnerving to be greeted with the sight of a likely ambassador to the aliens looking like she'd just walked off the runway of Miss USA. No one that good usually joined the military, and he'd bet even fewer would join the aliens of all things.

The most likely explanation was that this so-called Human wasn't actually real, but some kind of genetic…thing…the aliens thought might, for some reason, put him at ease. He didn't know if he should be flattered, or horrified at just how disturbingly accurate the aliens had guessed what he might like.

Nope, he was definitely feeling the latter.

"Konstantine Volikov, a pleasure to finally meet," she said. Her fucking voice was even perfect; strong, seductive with a clear Russian accent. This was now very unsettling. She extended a gloved hand which he did take. It was pretty much as he expected, she at least felt like a Human, although with gloves that didn't mean much.

"That is…mutual," he said, keeping his voice normal. "You know who I am, but I don't know who you are."

She gave a dazzling smile. "Of course. I am Asaru; I believe you wanted to meet personally?" He couldn't suppress a blink of surprise, which…Asaru seemed to find amusing. "Not what you expected, I presume?"

"No." He said flatly. "I believe your associate identified you as an Elder, or Ethereal as ADVENT likes to call them. You are very clearly a Human."

"The ruse serves its purpose," Asaru explained wistfully. "But I find labels and such limiting. Once you tell people who and what you are, there are certain expectations that have to be fulfilled," she sighed. "But I find such tiring. And you act surprised that a Human could be working with the Collective? Is that really so hard to believe?"

Volk raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to say yes. And even if they were, I don't think they'd have such a position of…influence; which you seem to have. And I don't think you're actually Asaru."

She clicked her teeth. "You are rather bold, but perceptive."

Volk gave an unamused smirk. "I thought I was going to be speaking with her."

"I assure you," 'Asaru' said. "Everything we discuss here will be relayed to her. I speak with her complete authority."

"Really." Volk said slowly, thinking of what to do next. At the very least he wanted to get some information about the aliens, even if he was ultimately going to make Asaru herself come before they even thought of reaching some agreement. Best to play along. Asaru's smile widened, seemingly for no reason.

"If you really represent her," Volk said. "You should be able to answer some questions."

She bowed her head. "That is why I am here."

"Good," Volk crossed his arms. "So here's the most obvious one: Why is your Collective even here?"

"Through an interesting set of circumstances," she answered. "We were led here, but didn't know what we would find. We observed your species for a short time, before the ones watching took it upon themselves to begin conducting operations. Peace was thrown out, as they did not think your species would willingly join, and your species was nowhere near united enough to make such a major decision."

Volk snorted. "How convenient. Everything just so happens to be someone else's fault. Next you'll tell me that those who made those decisions are dead or gone. Please. Don't lie to me. If you forcibly assimilate species, just fucking say so. I promise not to be offended."

"We do not as a general rule," Asaru repeated. "However, we…misstepped with Humanity. We did indeed believe that you were both too primitive and violent to be peacefully assimilated. Something that has clearly been disproved rather violently. Contrary to what you might believe, most of the species in the Ethereal Collective joined willingly and peacefully."

"Most?"

"The Mutons were uplifted, but they truly were primitive and fought our efforts."

Volk was inclined to believe that. "So basically what you're saying is that you did a bad job initially and now everyone is stuck in a war."

Asaru pursed her lips. "In retrospect, it likely didn't need to come to this."

Volk rubbed his forehead. "And what is stopping you from just saying sorry and making peace? ADVENT isn't the only power in the world for now."

"Please," Asaru dismissed. "Your species will never end this war voluntarily. XCOM and ADVENT will not allow it; perhaps they are justified, perhaps not, but unfortunately, ending the war is not possible, because at best it would only delay it. You see the danger ADVENT poses, now imagine what they will do in even twenty or fifty years?"

Volk was watching her face intently, now seeing some strange things that didn't really add up to what she was saying. "And I suppose the Collective is much better than ADVENT?"

"What ADVENT does not tell people is that, ironically, we are more open than they are," Asaru said with a knowing smile. "While each species government answers to us, they are largely autonomous. This is no overarching and oppressive empire, like ADVENT is, but we have no interest in a species forced to fit to what we perceive them to be. As obviously ADVENT is incompatible, the government you would have under the Collective is, quite literally, what you want it to be."

Volk didn't even try to disguise the skepticism he felt. "By that, I assume that includes working with alien ambassadors, as well as anyone else you're contacting. I'm definitely not the only one here, am I?"

A rhetorical question, but one he wanted answered. "There are fewer than you think," Asaru said. "There is one other, and that might expand further. While ADVENT doubtlessly believes that we prefer puppet leaders, that isn't exactly true. Puppets have their uses, but they cannot build anything lasting. In general, I personally find them incompetent and require too much micromanaging."

Asaru shook her head. "You are not a puppet, Volikov, that is why I have contacted you instead of appealing to the Argentinian and Chilean governments. I could, but they would be too scared of what we can do to be of permanent use. You respect us, but you are not intimidated by us either. A rare trait in a Human."

Volk was not sure if this was a genuine comment, or alien flattery. "Well, I'm surprised you consider me so highly. However, I assume you realize my influence is…limited," he nodded towards Elena. "I don't have a large group, and I'm definitely not a politician."

"I have little interest in Human politics," Asaru dismissed with a sniff. "Work with us, and we'll provide you with whatever you need to first secure these regions, and then take the fight to ADVENT. You are Human, we are not. You know what is needed; you know the strengths and weaknesses here. You will lead our operations here, while I will only serve as an advisor."

Much as he didn't like to admit it, he had to admit she could make a good offer. Assuming she was telling the truth…hmm…there was a lot he could do. The problem was there were still things that just didn't add up. "Let's ignore that for the moment," Volk said slowly. "Why even go through all this trouble in the first place? Much as ADVENT is saying otherwise, I haven't exactly forgotten that you could likely destroy us quickly. So why don't you?"

Asaru's expression didn't change. "As I said earlier, your species was mishandled. A war does not serve anyone, and simply conquering your species would accomplish nothing but increasing anti-alien sentiment and drive dangerous organizations with vast resources like XCOM and ADVENT underground, who wouldn't cease until they are either removed or succeed."

She paused. "There are several additional reasons, but some even I am not at liberty to disclose. Suffice to say the situation is more complicated than you might assume. Yes, we could dominate your species, but it would backfire more than our operations here already have."

That…was an oddly logical answer. He hadn't expected the aliens to admit they screwed up here, but it actually seemed like the being in front of him was actually saying that which was…oddly refreshing. From an alien of all things. "Go get him," he told Elena, who nodded and walked away. Volk returned his attention to Asaru. "So instead you want to make…alliances with certain people. Show that the Collective can cooperate peacefully with Humans. Turn this from a species conflict to an interspecies one."

"To an extent, yes," Asaru confirmed. "I sincerely doubt standard operations will cease, but countries with our backing should be Human-led and controlled. ADVENT will simply use that as propaganda otherwise.

Volk's lips curled up. "Assuming they wouldn't do that anyway."

She mirrored his smile. "A fair point. I am curious now what you are thinking. You haven't shot or refused, so I assume you are considering."

"I am," Volk eyed her carefully. "I won't ask you for some guarantee, because both of us know promises are all well and good, but you can't prove you'll follow through. What you are saying sounds…promising…but I suppose we'll see just how genuine you really are."

Her smile didn't diminish. "If you wish, I could provide you with what you would hope to be sufficient proof. I would certainly hate to try and find another qualified candidate."

"It's not about what you can give me," Volk said. "It's about what you'll allow. So, you want me to wage a war against ADVENT with you and establish the New Earth Collective, or whatever you decide to call it? Then we're going to do this my way. No exceptions."

Asaru scratched her chin thoughtfully. "I suppose that depends on what you have in mind. I can't promise no exceptions, of course, since even I answer to a superior. But you do not strike me as someone who would propose unreasonable action."

Well, here it went. "First, all operational commands are handled by me, at least in the South American region. I'm not stupid enough to run your whole invasion, but you yourself said I know this area better. I know what works, I know what will get you willing allies. Give me your alien advisors if you want, or yourself even, but I get the final call on all combat and intelligence operations here."

"Done." She said.

He cocked his head. That seemed way too easy. "Second, civilian targets are off-limits, and if your military has a problem with that, too bad. I don't care if you slaughter the entire ADVENT leadership with syphilis, but you're not going to attack people who are just caught in the middle. Obviously I'd like you to keep your experimentation to a minimum, but I'm not delusional enough to think that would actually stop, but stuff like that Sectoid Hive is not really helping."

"It is unfortunate the Sectoids tainted the image of all of us," Asaru sighed. "Experiments like that are done at the behest of the Hive Commanders, which the Collective does not regulate, for better or worse."

"Sure," Volk noted skeptically. "But you didn't address what I said."

"Ah, yes," she recalled. "Not an issue. Unless the civilian population is compromised by psionics or organic programming, standard tactics are to avoid intentionally destroying civilian targets. With that said, we, much like ADVENT, do not prioritize civilians over our own forces. I hope that is an acceptable compromise."

"As long as it's actually followed," Volk agreed. "Very little that can be done to help civilians in warzones. Not intentionally targeting them is likely the best that can be done."

"War is a sad affair, but mitigation is something we can do to lessen the damage," Asaru nodded. "Ah, I see you brought over some more of your Reapers."

Volk snorted at the nickname. "'Reaper', something ADVENT calls us to explain the assassins killing their soldiers. The name is pointless, but it is amusing."

"You have quite the title as well," Asaru reminded him as Elena walked up with Hadrian and two other Reapers in full combat trenchcoats and gas masks. "I assume you didn't pick it?"

"No," Volk said as he turned his attention to Elena. "Anyway, representative, this is Hadrian, one of my Reapers."

"A pleasure, representative," Hadrian said, taking off his mask to reveal the face of a man likely just over thirty with black hair just visible under the hood. "I assume Volk has reached an agreement."

"We're working on it," Volk told him, turning back to Asaru. "Now to continue our conversation, there is something else I want to make clear."

Volk didn't glance over as Elena executed Hadrian at point-blank range. Once he heard the body hit the ground, he continued. "While I can respect sending spies to infiltrate us, I will not tolerate being spied upon. Your spies may be professionals, but they are not Humans. They do not fit in, and we notice."

Asaru didn't even flinch. "How did you learn?"

"All supposed Americans know the history of the American Revolution, yes" Volk asked. "You know, the one where John Adams led the Americans against the British Redcoats?"

Asaru frowned. "That would be assumed."

"No, they don't," Volk said, deadpan. "Because the Americans were led by George Washington, not John Adams. A fact that he," he nodded down. "Seemed to misremember, but was very sure was correct." Volk gave an ironic smile. "You could always assume people who don't know that are idiots, but idiots generally don't speak two languages, have skin that somehow doesn't scratch, and can see things us normal Humans can't."

In reality, he'd discovered Hadrian was an alien from day one thanks to Elena, who simply told him that he was making micro expressions and expressing body language that was both not Human, and contradictory to what he was sometimes talking about. Keeping any important information from him had been child's play, and the gaffes like the (true) American Revolution mishap were more of an amusement than anything else.

The other Reapers dragged the body away, leaving just him, Elena, and the being who was supposedly a representative of Asaru. "I will ensure the Zararch do not watch you or your people," she finally said. "This wouldn't have been a concern as an ally, but I can assure you it won't happen."

Well, if she was lying, it would be easy to figure out. "Glad to hear it. And finally, I want a catalogue of your weapons, equipment, and other assets so I know exactly what I can have to use. I also want operation documents for the larger invasion. If I'm going to help with this, I want to know everything that is relevant."

"A catalogue can be provided," Asaru confirmed. "I can only promise to speak to the Battlemaster on the matter of invasion documents. That is beyond my authority."

He'd expected as much, and to be fair, it was a fairly long shot. But no harm in asking. If the alien hadn't killed him yet, it was unlikely she would at this point. Now he had one last thing to determine, which was a risk, but considering he was making demands of an alien Collective that, no matter what they said, didn't need him, he felt one more couldn't hurt.

Especially since he was almost completely positive.

"Think that's the major things out of the way," Volk said, a hand resting on his pistol. "But right now I'm wondering why you're still lying?"

She gave a laugh. "About what? While you may not consider my word worth much currently, I am owed at least a chance to prove it."

"Not about that," Volk said. "You aren't an ambassador to Asaru. I don't even think you're real."

"I shook your hand," she reminded him. "While-"

A shot rang out and Asaru's head snapped back, though the body stayed upright. Volk kept the pistol aimed at the figure, and sure enough, the figure oriented herself, looking amused with a bleeding hole directly in the center of her forehead where he'd shot. "You are very bold, Volikov," she said quietly, the Russian accented voice gone, replaced with what he assumed was the true voice of Asaru, a layered and melodical one that drew out the beginnings and endings of sentences. "You understand this could end badly for you?"

"Unlikely," Volk stated as he holstered his pistol. "If you actually had an issue, you would have already killed me."

"I believe that the right choice was made, contacting you," she mused, the bullet hole in her forehead vanishing. "I am curious how you noticed."

"Your mouth didn't line up with what you were saying sometimes," Volk said smugly. "And you kept referring to yourself the entire time we talked instead of 'Asaru's representative', who I assumed wouldn't be having the authority to give me what I asked, or speak with beings like the Battlemaster." He smirked. "Always pay attention to the little things, Asaru. That I've seen what you Ethereals can do also helped, since I assume making an illusion isn't too difficult."

"More than you might imagine," Asaru said dryly. "But I am impressed. Yet you still have not decided what you will do?"

"Assuming you keep your word? I'll work with you," Volk stated. "Give me what I need and I'll give you this continent. Forget our deal and you'll either never see me again, or you will kill me."

"Very well," she agreed. "You will have what you will need, and your requests will be fulfilled to the best of our ability. And concerning your operation in Uruguay, which I am aware of…" she stepped forward. "I believe I can assist with that significantly."

Volk raised an eyebrow. "Go on then, I'm curious what you can do to help."

---

Abuja – Nigeria

11/9/2017 – 2:18 P.M.

Betos decidedly felt like an outsider at the meal for the talks. All of the Presidents arriving wore rather plain and generic black suits, aside from President Babikr Kone of Chad, who had a pistol openly strapped to his waist, in addition to an oversized knife. He was the one who made her the most uneasy. Tall and thinner than looked healthy, with a near-shaved head and tiny spectacles, he had talked the least so far, and seemed content to listen to the others.

He seemed dangerous.

Cameroon President Atem Esaba on the other hand didn't seem too bad. He was the heaviest one, and definitely not in shape, nor carried weapons, but was the friendliest by far, even greeting her personally while the others had barely given a nod of acknowledgement. From what she understood, Cameroon was rather diverse as far as African countries went, which seemed to explain why Atem's skin wasn't as dark as the other presidents. Unfortunately, he did seem to be one of the few who actually took his responsibility to his citizens seriously, and the more she listened, the less appealing everything else looked. She probably should have gone there first. Atem seemed more trustworthy than Okon at least.

The President of Niger, Ezeudo Ifekristi, Betos wasn't exactly sure what to think about, he was clearly once military, and was easily the biggest and strongest out of all of them. Since Niger was the source of multiple revolutions over mere decades…it did explain the heavily military-influenced nature of their government. He seemed fairly practical, which was not something Betos was sure was a positive here, but he seemed at least competent. He'd also shown up with the largest military unit, though for what purpose Betos didn't know. Intimidation didn't seem likely, nor did Betos believe he was in actual danger. If that were the case, he would have some kind of weapon on him, which he did not.

Very odd.

The conversation had danced around the actual purpose, with the various leaders making small talk about the state of their countries and 'allies'. Not much of importance was shared, and Betos interpreted it as a way for all of them to speak for some time to reacquaint themselves, before actually turning to more serious matters.

That, it seemed, was going to happen now.

"We have spent enough time discussing trivial matters," President Kone finally said, lifting a hand. "President Okon, let us move to the reason you have asked us here."

"Yes, this matter is of some interest to me," Ezeudo agreed, lacing his fingers together. "Though consider me skeptical."

"As am I," Atem added, setting his fork down. "Though I doubt for the same reasons."

"The idea is not appealing initially," Okon admitted. "Though I believe such a measure will be the only way to keep ourselves independent from the ADVENT tyrants. Marshal Betos here has made me aware of ADVENT's capabilities."

"You needed her to tell you ADVENT is dangerous?" Ezeudo grunted, shooting a skeptical glance her way. "Anyone who is paying attention is aware of what they can do. They wish genocide among the inferior. The Arabs were the first, and it is only a matter of time before they move to us. This is not new."

"With respect, Mr. President, that isn't exactly true," Betos interrupted, wondering how he'd possibly gotten that idea. "ADVENT, as authoritarian as they are, do not plan for genocide. You have to know how their leadership thinks. Above all else they are practical. Your countries are in danger, but not from racism or some kind of ethnic cleansing. What you should be concerned about is when ADVENT decides that you are a threat, or that you are not doing enough to help them."

At least she had their attention. "At some point, they are going to come to each of you. They will open with standard negotiations, but if you deviate from those in any way, or refuse what they offer, there is nothing stopping them from simply annexing you like they did with Canada. They did nothing wrong except refuse to help."

"The West has always ignored us," Atem stated. "ADVENT will be no different. They do not care for us, nor we for them."

"Do you really believe that?" Betos demanded coldly. "If it isn't clear, ADVENT is nothing like what you are used to. They won't ignore Africa. You have people; you have resources; you have land. ADVENT sees everything it doesn't directly control as under possible risk of alien control."

She paused. "The stark reality, Presidents, is that ADVENT cannot be stopped by one country, or even several. China is keeping its distance, and South America will likely capitulate soon as well. The Middle East was pacified in little more than a day. However, one continent would, if not stop them, give them pause."

Her gaze swept across all of them. "Ultimately, the good news is that everything is secondary to the aliens, and that, more than anything, may be why ADVENT would back off from a united Africa."

"Yet a united Africa poses a threat to them," Kone said calmly. "You yourself stated they do not tolerate threats."

"Immediate threats," Betos clarified. "They consider China a threat. They considered the Middle East a threat. The reason they are leaving China alone is because they have not interfered with ADVENT and because a pointless Chinese-ADVENT war would drain resources from fighting the aliens. A conflict with a united Africa would be seen in much the same way."

"Then if we do not interfere, they would leave us alone," Atem said. "Cameroon has no interest in fighting ADVENT, nor interfering with their nations."

"As Canada clearly shows," Okon pointed out. "And even if they would, Marshal Betos has told me that ADVENT would not be above simply replacing the leadership with those friendly to them."

"How American," Ezeudo snorted. "But your point is made…Marshal…ADVENT will need to be handled soon. The question now is simply how we will prepare."

"You fail to take into account that our countries are not prepared for a conflict," Ezeudo told her, eyes boring into her. "Even now my country is plagued with dissidents; revolutionaries and terrorists."

"On that we are agreed," Kone nodded. "The terrorists in my nation are too much of a concern to ignore. Boko Haram is growing, and they may join with the rebels if they are not stopped. Public support is unfortunately growing, largely thanks to western propaganda."

"Purge them," Ezeudo stated. "There is no United Nations to manipulate the world into condemning defending our nations as we see fit. And ADVENT will not act, will they Marshal?"

"Unlikely," Betos shook her head. "The aliens are their concern, and their official policy is not to intervene in foreign nations unless the situation is dire. Killing terrorists won't be a concern." She frowned. "How is Boko Haram still around? They were a jihadist group?"

"Once, but they are not nearly as fanatical as they once were," Kone explained with a sharp grin. "Islam has faded in them like the rest of the world, and so they evolved. Their drive is no longer primarily religion, but nationalism, idealism, and anti-corruption." He snorted at the last one. "They use the same tactics. Suicide bombers, assassination, killing of loyalists, but intermixed with propaganda and linking with lesser rebel groups to draw sympathy from the West against the 'corrupt' leadership."

"You have a point, Ezeudo," Okon nodded. "There is no UN to make empty threats, and all of us have been too gentle with these animals. Before we can think of ADVENT, we must bring our nations to peace." He swept a hand towards Betos. "The Marshal has also provided me with the advanced weaponry used by ADVENT. Rifles and armor that far surpass the second-hand junk the West gives us out of pity. We have our own plants and our own manufacturers. There is no reason to not use these against the dissenters."

"An excellent bargaining chip," Atem said. "One you will not gift us unless we agree to your little alliance."

"No, my skepticism is gone," Kone suddenly said. "ADVENT has, for the worse, reset the world. The balance of power is abolished and consolidated with them. But we are stagnant. This is more than simply opposing ADVENT, this is the chance to reset our own continent. We gain nothing from remaining divided. The age of the small nations having any power is long past, only the large powers have any influence."

He nodded to Betos. "She understands this. If we do nothing, at best we will continue to be irrelevant in the world, and at worst, we will be puppets of the West and our land, people, and resources stripped and used. They have always used us and we had little choice. No. The time for our own sovereignty should arise now."

"Change cannot be a mere alliance," Betos warned. "You need leaders. You need authority over the ones involved. Otherwise you will make the same mistakes the United Nations did; a body with no power or purpose but to keep the peace."

"Indeed," Ezeudo looked towards Okon. "How many did you invite to this discussion?"

"Out of respect, every nation in the continent," he answered, lips curled into a small sneer. "Even the Western puppets. Better that some are not here. The inferior should not have a place in this alliance."

"Without a doubt," Kone agreed grimly. "Should this be done, it will be done correctly. There are those in government who will oppose this. There is little need to keep the illusion of their power anymore. They must die."

"I presume the military will follow you?" Okon asked.

"They despise them, and our promise to wipe Boko Haram and crush the rebels will win him over," Kone dismissed with a wave. "I am less concerned for my soldiers, and more for yours, Esaba."

"That is unlikely to be needed," Atem said. "Some of the minority blocs might have issues, but they will fall in line through a party vote. Otherwise they can be replaced. My commander will follow my orders."

"Good, good," Kone said with a nod. "Our laws will need to be…unified. Rewritten. Not by the incompetent fools in the congresses, but by us and our soldiers. We know what needs to be done, and they will not have a stomach for it."

Betos frowned. "And what do you have in mind?"

"We will need resources to rebuild and improve our armies," Ezeudo grunted. "We control deposits of metals, gold, diamonds. And we have thousands of so-called citizens who are too weak and poor to do anything. It is time we used them."

"Agreed," Kone said with a smile. "The mines and factories will need workers."

Betos blinked. "Forced labor? You are not going to enslave them!"

"Such an overdramatic reaction," Kone chuckled. "I suppose that can be allowed for a competent woman. No, slavery of citizens is pointless, but they should put their lives to some use before they wither and die like parasites."

"Slavery is better served as punishment," Okon nodded. "Something fitting for the rebels and terrorists. Even the mere criminal in the jail would be better used for the state than simply storing them away."

"While I agree with the concept of putting those in our nations to work, the Marshal has a point," Atem said. "Taken too far, this could reflect badly on us. No one will care about the terrorists, as they should not, but as justified as putting our people to work is, it will be opposed."

"They have nothing now," Okon reminded them. "They simply want food. Shelter. We give it to them, and we have our workforce. It is the presentation that will be crucial, not the act itself."

This was getting out of hand quickly, Betos did not like where this was going, but didn't know how to regulate four Presidents. "You should reevaluate what you are speaking about," she warned. "Not even ADVENT would go as far as some of this."

"We are not ADVENT," Kone said simply. "I do not care what they would, or would not do. This is simply what must be done to protect ourselves, as you have rightfully pointed out. You understand that this does not happen without compromise."

"I can refuse to help," she reminded them.

"This is preliminary," Okon tried reassuring her. "But none of this would happen without you. The expertise you provide will not be ignored, and you will have a guiding hand in the course of designing the laws of this body."

"We will need a leader of the Army of our soldiers," Ezeudo said. "You know ADVENT. You know how they work. You have combat experience, and I assume you participated in the War on Terror and hunted down the Palestinian vermin in your own country. I would support your position."

Betos resisted bristling at the casual dismissal of the Palestinians. "As would I," Atem agreed. "An especially high honor, for both a non-African and a woman."

"And as we are the first to join in this union, we will be the leaders," Okon said to all of them. "There is little need to simply rally around one simply because of tradition. We four will unite this continent and bring a new era of African influence." He poured some wine in his glass and raised it. "To the formation of the Sovereign African States."

There was a chorus of affirmatives, and Betos echoed their movements, realizing that this seemed oddly similar to how ADVENT might have formed. Leaders coming together in secret; making alliances; planning radical change; all united under one vision.

And now the vision she had was slowly becoming warped into what could be a dark mirror of ADVENT itself. But she had no choice now. She was committed, and needed to make sure these men didn't grow more drunk on power than they already were.

But she was in way over her head, and didn't know what to do to help herself.

This might not have been a good idea.

---

Bagé Peacekeeper Outpost – Brazil

11/10/2016 – 5:21 P.M.

Jaylin had never really thought she would be happy to be on guard duty, but here she was. The first attack in Bolivia was far from the last. Attacks had begun happening at seemingly random times, and they were definitely all from the same group. No one knew who they were or who they worked for. Some thought that they were working for Argentina or another South American nation.

Jaylin, and most other people, mostly believed they were just extremely well-equipped terrorists. Although there were a few things that gave her pause as she'd looked over the reports gathered from across the country. As one of the survivors of the attack, and subsequent ones, she'd received a promotion that had put her on a team of trying to figure out exactly who these people were.

It didn't make sense.

They had yet to capture one, or even kill one, which was not something she'd expect from anything other than a foreign intelligence agency, and these people didn't fit any known intelligence group. She was even slightly wary of assigning them the 'terrorist' label since to date, they hadn't targeted any civilians, which were the most vulnerable and easy attacks to carry out.

They were missing very basic information. They didn't know if these people were native, they didn't know who was supplying them, they didn't know their goals or motivations. No group had taken credit, and all countries had denied involvement. Jaylin almost wondered if this was the result of some private billionaire who hated ADVENT.

It would explain the equipment and skill, and why no one would take credit. No one really thought China was behind it, since relations between the countries had been thawing to a degree, and more importantly, China wasn't stupid.

But Jaylin, nor anyone on her team, knew what else to do. She'd requested assistance from Stein, who had personally informed her that ADVENT Intelligence would be deployed to handle this, which Jaylin really thought was for the best. They were definitely handling something they weren't trained or equipped for. These assassins blended into the forests and knew the area better than they ever could, and the Peacekeeper armor wasn't strong enough to block an expertly placed bullet.

But they needed ADVENT Intelligence here sooner than later. While everyone was worrying about the aliens, Jaylin was honestly more concerned with just randomly getting shot, as were most Peacekeepers deployed here. Uruguay citizens were also hosting border protests daily, which wasn't helping matters at all.

Were they trying to make ADVENT mad?

"So you see the latest news?" Leon asked beside her as they stood behind the barricade that quartered off the Peacekeeper base, which gave them a view into the surrounding field. One of her suggestions to make ambushes impossible seemed to be working so far, since the base was in the middle of a place and they'd removed the nearby trees to give them plenty of open space.

Nothing was coming through without someone spotting it, and after the attacks, there was a 24-7 guard with Peacekeepers watching every angle, and even more standing guard over the Armory and vehicles. That was not including the other armed and on-duty Peacekeepers just wandering around and practicing on the mock range.

"Not really," Jaylin yawned. "Unless you mean the Chancellor saying that the aliens are retreating and how great we all are?"

"Nah, a bit lower key," Leon explained, tinkering with his rifle. "You remember that traitor? Betos?"

"I do," Jaylin said, just the name itself beginning to make her irritated. "And also all the other two thousand or so traitors no one ever mentions for some reason."

Jaylin knew she wasn't the most empathetic person, but she could actually understand the issues some people had with ADVENT, which would probably shock some people. It was why she didn't really mind the deriding words she sometimes heard directed at Saudia and other various figures. Far as she was concerned, that was fine as long as everyone did their jobs.

With that said, under no circumstances was that ever justification for not only deserting, but going to a foreign nation and literally giving up state secrets. Jaylin was personally shocked ADVENT Intelligence had not just dragged her back and handed them to a probably gleeful Stein, but just shot her and be done with it. Literally no one would have complained. It was even worse that this was happening during an invasion.

So for her health, she hoped she'd never hear about the traitor again unless it was about her death or trial. "Well, she's showed up with several African leaders," Leon continued. "They announced the formation of the 'Sovereign African States' which seemed to be created in response to us. So that's a thing. Four nations, but it's drastically changing up the power dynamics there."

"All thanks to the traitor," Jaylin muttered, looking off into the setting sunset. "At some point we just need to take the bitch out."

"Not saying I disagree with you, but there has to be a reason ADVENT hasn't done anything," Leon cautioned. "Although honestly, I can't for the life of me figure out what."

"Probably- hold up, something's out there," Jaylin interrupted, raising her rifle and peering into the distance where there was a figure walking up. Looked like the attire of the terrorists, but it was too far away. "Base Watch, unidentified figure north of my position. Possibly hostile."

"Understood, sending reinforcements now and putting the base on alert," the Base Watch, security managers of Peacekeeper bases, answered. "Best not to take chances. Looking through cameras now."

The figure was definitely one of the terrorists, with the trench coat, hood and rifle. "Definite hostile contact," she said. "Leon, you see it?"

"Yep," he confirmed. "What is it doing?"

"Peacekeeper Tanika, can you check your camera," Base Watch seemed confused. "We're not seeing anything."

Jaylin frowned, and saw two, three…"I don't know what to tell you," she said slowly. "And we've got bigger problems. There's at least a half dozen coming up now. Opening fire-"

"Behind you!" Leon yelled and she turned around to see one of the terrorists right behind her, rifle raised. Leon fired and hit the being right in the head, but it didn't even seem to do anything. It was like the slug passed through thin air.

There were more shouts around the base as more of the terrorists had somehow managed to get in, prompting guards to open fire but to similar results. Leon fired a few more shots, but all of them passed through like mist. Now she was thoroughly confused and concerned. There was no way this could happen, and the being was just standing there, arms spread mockingly.

"Sniper!" One of the Peacekeepers yelled as the one he was standing beside just fell down with a bullet hole in his helmet. Jaylin immediately took cover behind the barricade, as the area was filled with even more of the weird illusion-terrorists that were literally appearing and disappearing out of thin air.

"What the hell is this?" Leon asked as the chaos only got worse, as several Peacekeepers were wounded by friendly fire from their own side from the ones that hadn't figured out that some of them were illusions. And then it suddenly got much, much stranger. Before her eyes things started disappearing and appearing in different places. The barricade around the base melted before her eyes, and all the parked patrol cars just reversed direction, facing back instead of forward.

"We need to get everyone out of here," she hissed into her helmet. "They're doing something to our heads!"

"We're seeing it too," the shaky voice of the Base Watch communication said. "Everyone around me just vanished even though I can still hear them. A general retreat is ordered."

More Peacekeepers were getting picked off from real attacks which Jaylin had no idea where the shots were coming from. She didn't even know if the patrol car in front of her was real or not. She waved over some other Peacekeepers who were back to back and clearly unsure whether to fire on them or not. "Come on! To the car!"

She wasn't the only one to have that idea, the rest of the armed Peacekeepers that weren't getting picked off were either retreating to the vehicles or just running towards the city itself which was several miles away. Jaylin yanked open the door and climbed in, thankful that the keys were already inserted and ready to go.

Gunshots hit the patrol car, and she did her best to ignore them and luckily all of them missed. She drove forward, extremely glad she'd memorized the base and was easily able to follow the tracks from all the previous patrol car departures, even with things like the barricade gone. She was followed by several more cars, and a few explosions in the back indicated that at least a couple had been taken out.

She didn't pay any attention to what was behind her, only gunning it forward to the city, and praying that whatever had attacked them didn't follow. Whatever that was, there was no way they were going to be able to kill it.

ADVENT couldn't ignore this any longer. They'd come under some kind of psionic attack, and either the aliens were helping these terrorists, or they had gotten some of their own.

Both possibilities were terrifying.

But both required a response. Immediately.

---

A/N: To make this perfectly clear, nothing in here has any relation to the Bureau. In other news, I have a new beta reader Edumesh, who is a reader on the Spacebattles forums and has provided a lot of useful feedback. As it was the last time I brought on people, I fully expect future chapters to be even better.

- Xabiar