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.

36. For God and Country

For God and Country

---

ADVENT Recruitment Center 0821, Atlanta – Georgia, United States of America

12/28/2016 – 10:11 A.M.

"Hello, what can I do for you today?"

He'd been thinking of coming here for days, and would have preferred to wait until it was less busy, but the Recruitment Centers were almost always busy so he figured he shouldn't keep putting it off. "Yes. This is where you do testing for psionics, right?"

The uniformed woman on the other side of the table brightened. "Yes sir, it is. Do you wish to undergo testing?"

A shrug. "Why not?"

"Alright, I can get you set up for that today, if you want," she said, picking up a tablet. "I do need you to go through the materials, sign with the stylus, and give it back. Essentially a consent form, and you are under no obligation to sign with ADVENT regardless of results. This is purely for testing."

He took the tablet. "Don't worry, I know what this is. It won't take long."

"Excellent! And your name?"

"Ivan Smirnov."

"Got it," she entered something, presumably his name, into her computer. "Just return that whenever you're finished."

Ivan walked to the first empty chair he could find and sat down, the tablet resting on his lap as he decided first to see who else was deciding to come here. ADVENT's Recruitment Centers, like most of what they did, were of extremely high quality. While not especially big, the room was exceptionally clean, well-lit, which slightly contrasted the grey walls with red highlights.

The red ADVENT symbol was also prominently displayed on the walls, along with the various emblems for the branches. Army, Navy, Air and Space, PRIEST, and Special Forces. He couldn't blame anyone who was taken in by the sleek design of it all. No matter what anyone said about ADVENT, none could deny they knew how to market.

As a result he wasn't surprised to see the room contained mostly younger men and women, and not an insignificant number who were clearly in their thirties. He'd seen the recruitment numbers, and ADVENT was the fastest-growing military in all of recorded history, which was somewhat disingenuous considering the circumstances, and that they were comprised of multiple countries.

He wondered how many were here because they felt some kind of calling, or because they felt like there was no other choice. It was ironic that ADVENT was responsible for collapse of so many positions, yet managed to position themselves as an entity with open arms for the displaced.

Smart. A change from the incompetence of the past.

Ivan sighed, turned his attention to the tablet and settled in for a short period of reading legalese. To his mild surprise, it was surprisingly straightforward, and stated exactly what the testing would consist of, in what order, and what joining the PRIEST Division would entail.

A physical test of some kind, which he wasn't worried about passing. He was healthy and in decent shape. This was also apparently where they would determine if he was psionically sensitive or not. If he was, he would be given a psychological test, likely to ensure he didn't have any mental illnesses or something.

He was curious to see how that would go. There was a written portion, and an in-person interview. Likely to test comprehension and ensure they weren't giving superpowers to idiots and criminals. He wasn't concerned about that either, while he'd worked with criminals all his life, he was most certainly not one.

As for his mental state, he knew there was nothing to be concerned about. He had no mental illnesses, and if necessary he could follow orders and the like. He wouldn't claim to be the biggest patriot or fan of ADVENT, but he could work in it. All he was particularly concerned about was, if he was psionic, becoming such.

He'd do his time in ADVENT, and then do his own thing, preferably with something extra gifted to him. And if he wasn't psionic, well, the military wasn't the only option he had. ADVENT had no shortage of positions open.

"Another new recruit?" A man sitting a chair over asked. "Well, you're not the usual crowd."

"Potentially," Ivan said, looking at the man. He was definitely younger than Ivan, probably mid-twenties in a grey suit, black hair and pale skin. Not really a person out of place. "You as well?"

"Air and Space," he said, inclining his head. "Didn't get a degree in aviation for nothing. Figure ADVENT could use more pilots. More interesting than flying commercial, anyway. So what about you?"

"If it goes well, PRIEST," Ivan said. "Otherwise likely something with ADVENT Legal."

His eyebrow shot up. "Psionics, huh? Interesting." He looked up thoughtfully. "Considered that, but I think it's best I don't know. Much as I'd like that, I'd feel ADVENT would never let me go. They're not big on risks. Or they could say no."

Ivan lifted the tablet. "They would probably only say no if you were a criminal or just insane. They need psions; they're not just going to turn them away."

"Hopefully, for your sake," the man shrugged. "I've heard opposite, but you might see. Well, assuming you are psionic."

"True."

"So what leads you to try that out?" he asked. "If your backup plan is ADVENT legal, I'm guessing you have something to do with that?"

"Criminal Defense."

The man winced. "Ah. Sorry to hear that. For what it's worth, I don't agree with what they did for that. Can't say I was a fan of the process, but I at least got the reasoning behind it."

Ivan sighed. "You're better than most people. Most were thrilled when ADVENT essentially abolished the system and turned trials into sentencing ceremonies."

"I'm surprised that was never challenged," the man noted. "I'd think there'd be a bunch of lawyers who'd protest that."

He snorted. "Trust me, there were. And ADVENT just rewrote the laws and dismissed us. Stein herself essentially gloated, saying that "Our skills were no longer needed to defend the lowest in our society."" His free hand clenched into a fist. "Fucking Stein. I will never understand why that sociopath was put in charge of anything."

The man merely nodded. "Can't disagree. Didn't want to stay private? Do law but not for ADVENT?"

"I could," Ivan shrugged. "But the way things are going, I might just be wasting my time if we end up losing, and I'd at least like to contribute in some way. For better or worse, ADVENT is here to stay, and afterwards that will be valuable to people."

"ADVENT definitely isn't going anywhere," he nodded. "It's the future, like it or not." He glanced at the tablet in Ivan's hand. "Ah, sorry, I'll let you finish that up."

"No problem," he said, as he finished filling it out. "And I'll wish you good luck…"

"Richard Anwar," he extended a hand which Ivan took. "Pleasure to meet you, and hope everything works out for you."

"The same for you," Ivan nodded as he stood. "Good luck." With that, he went to drop the tablet off at the desk. "Here you go. How long will it be?"

"I've put you in for our earliest opening, January second at three o' clock," she said, taking the tablet back. "Please try and be on time, otherwise it will be at least another week." She gave an apologetic shrug. "We've got tight schedules."

"Understandable." It was at least good that he wouldn't have to hang around here for hours. "I'll be back at that time."

"Excellent!" She smiled. "See you soon."

Ivan hoped he would be that cheerful sometime, but all he managed was a polite nod as he left. That was a bit later than he was hoping for, but hopefully it would have a good ending. At least he'd have time now to work off his frustration at the fact this situation was even here to begin with. He hated missing it.

---

ADVENT HQ – Switzerland

12/29/2016 – 9:00 A.M.

"Estimates say at least a couple months," Kyong said as Saudia looked over the progress report. "With that said, with a project this size, that is remarkably efficient."

"Efficiency is not the concern," Saudia said, setting the tablet down contemplatively as she thought. "It's going to be keeping this a secret. Even when the Restraints are…implemented…all it will take is one telepathic attack to get that information."

"Which is why we keep it as restricted as possible," Hassan added on the other side of the table. "Having it on a need-to-know basis is the best we can do. With that said, I doubt we'll be able to keep it hidden forever. Are all aspects of the Atlantis Project being implemented?"

"Yes," Saudia confirmed. "The Nemo Protocol, armor, and weapons. Everything. The armor and weapons will be developed by separate teams and neither will know the bigger picture. Mercado has some prototypes, but testing will need to be done."

Hassan scratched his chin. "Shipping the amount of materials needed will raise questions."

"Initially," Saudia said slowly. "However, we have Gateways to circumvent this. Materials can be transported through them from anywhere in the world without the need for repeated shipments. I will keep a Fleet patrolling the area, but it won't be obvious they are watching over a certain area. It won't be enough to attract the attention of the aliens."

"We shall hope so," Kyong said. "In any case I will prepare a statement if the media picks up on it."

"Do it," she said. "But under no circumstances can anyone outside of who I directly authorize know about this."

"Understood, Chancellor."

She nodded. "Now, the other two projects. Both look to be progressing well."

"The Chinese have significantly assisted us with the Turing Project," Hassan agreed. "I would recommend President Qin be publicly thanked when it is completed. With that said, I am unsure how the public, let alone unaffiliated nations, will react to an artificial intelligence."

"All we need to show is that we can have it under control," Kyong disputed. "Since we have handled psionics without incident, we have their trust. People just want assurance they will be safe, and if the AI that arises out of the Turing Project can achieve this, it is a simple matter of convincing them that is acceptable."

"That isn't what I'm especially concerned about," Saudia noted slowly. "Project Seafoam is what I believe might cause controversy. Cloning organs and animal meat is one thing. The cloning of fully functional Humans will not be perceived the same way."

"Agreed," Kyong nodded. "I will warn you that there will be genuine objectors. Purists and religious fundamentalist groups. Especially when they hear details. There will be accusations that we are playing god by growing and improving the Human genome."

"A vocal minority is not a concern," Saudia dismissed with a sniff. "If we are going through the trouble of creating clones, they will be superior to the average Human. The genetic modifications we've already designed will not go to waste."

"Honestly, you're right," Kyong said. "The larger questions will come from the ethics of the project. Of how the clones will be treated and their level of sentience. I am sure we don't want to have the perception of leading a slave army."

"I believe the best way to combat that would be to have one of the clones speak to the skeptics," Saudia said. "Make it clear these are still Humans, give proof, and the problems will become quiet. But their Manchurian programming does not need to be shared."

"Other countries will likely want to know similar details," Hassan added. "There are still cultures that will look on this as…unnatural. It's not going to be easy to change perceptions in a short amount of time. Education can solve this to a degree, but there is a certain amount that is ingrained from childhood and cultural norms."

"We'll deal with that issue when we have an actual working clone to show," Saudia said, glancing down at the tablet. "If we're lucky, we'll be getting the first batch in a year. And that's a generous estimate. In the meantime, we've got other more pressing matters to deal with while the aliens maintain this temporary ceasefire."

"There…is one more thing," Kyong said, glancing down at the tablet again. "In fact, I was updated again this morning. It's something I'll be releasing a statement to the public on, but not before you're up to speed on the situation."

Saudia raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Remember when Isomnum briefly arrived in D.C. and consigned several thousand people to mental institutions?" He asked.

She grimaced. "Yes. I don't suppose the proposed psionic therapy has been helping?"

"It's…a work in progress," Kyong admitted. "This is an entirely new field of study, and while there have been some successes…even those people aren't by any means cured. It might be years for them to be normal; months if we're lucky."

"What's developed then?" She asked.

"Well…" Kyong paused, as if trying to think of what to say. "One of them woke up, so to speak."

"The therapy worked?"

"That's just it," Kyong shook his head. "The man was in a coma-like state, with spurts of unconscious physical reaction, since the attack. The telepaths who tried to help were apparently so shaken they doubted they could help without threatening their own sanity. They'd suggested euthanization, but none of his family would allow it, especially since he wasn't…technically ill. Just trapped in his head is how they described it."

"And he just woke up?" Saudia asked. "No outside intervention?"

"Aside from IV tubes and standard coma care to keep him alive, no," Kyong confirmed. "And it's not really clear how he came out. He almost killed some of the orderlies when he woke up since he thought it was part of whatever nightmare he'd been in for the past few weeks."

"Has he been debriefed?" Saudia asked curiously.

"He has," Kyong said slowly, handing a document to her. "I'm not a doctor, but based on what he's said, he didn't come out of it entirely in the right state of mind. Claims of fighting through Hell and killing alien-looking demons don't do much to disprove this. That isn't what's interesting."

"What is?" She asked, as she skimmed the document.

"He has an…unusual reaction to psionics," Kyong explained. "Telepathy in particular. His endocrine system is completely messed up, and floods him with adrenaline when a telepath touches his mind. It took several violent incidents before they made that connection. More interesting is that it seems like he's immune to all forms of emotional manipulation."

Saudia cocked her head. "You mean that he's…immune to fear?"

"It appears so," Kyong nodded. "At his request, they did some experiments. It turned out that inducing any emotion had no effect. It just made him angry."

She set the report down. "Is he the only one like this?"

"Like this?" Kyong said. "Yes. Although there is a team which has requested to see if they could…replicate the results to a degree. Using either soldiers in a similar situation, or with volunteers."

"Give tentative approval," Saudia said slowly. "Provided Dr. Munju and Kettani sign off on it. Also make sure the Oversight Division is watching this. Who is this soldier?"

"Kane McTaggart," Kyong recalled. "Just an ADVENT Soldier stationed in D.C., didn't even specialize in anything. Has a history of aggression, but no reported incidents when deployed. Nothing especially out of the ordinary with him until now."

"Is he psionic?"

"No, several tests confirmed that," Kyong said. "Given how he has a physical reaction to telepathy, I doubt his body could handle actually being a psion."

"Keep me informed of this," Saudia said, looking back to Hassan as she switched focuses. This was an interesting situation, but in the grand scheme of ADVENT, she doubted it would have much of an impact. At least not for a while. "In the meantime, we have an itinerary to get to."

"Indeed." Now Hassan prepared to list her more important itinerary. Her Chief Diplomat had been busy keeping everything running smoothly and scheduling without conflicts. "Your meeting with Prince Mason is scheduled three days from now, which has been personally approved by the Royal Family. I assume this is still agreeable?"

Ah, yes. "Yes," Saudia frowned. "Which Prince was this?" The Royal Family had about four or five princes of various importance.

"Prince Mason," Hassan said, glancing down at his tablet. "The Duke of Cambridge if it helps. Great-Grandson of the Queen."

"Right," Saudia had been rather surprised when the invitation had first been extended. She hadn't expected the Royal Family would take a direct interest in ADVENT, and her specifically, especially given that they would become obsolete once Britain joined ADVENT. Yet the Prince apparently had something he wanted to propose to her.

It had her curious, if nothing else. While not the most important person in the Royal Family, a direct descendant of the Queen meant he had leverage. His background was especially interesting, as until just a few years ago, before his marriage, he had been a high-ranking officer in the British Armed Forces; somewhat traditional for a male in the Royal Family but something she could admire.

Her curiosity was certainly piqued, if nothing else.

"Speaking of Britain," she recalled. "Has the referendum been announced?"

"Yes," Kyong said. "I thought it best we not comment on it unless pressed, so not to give the impression we are swaying it one way or another. But the date is January 20th."

"And the response?"

"At the moment, public support in favor of 'yes' is strong," Hassan said. "Even the media is split on it, and at the moment are keeping a more neutral stance. Parliament is unsurprisingly furious the Prime Minister would go behind their backs like this."

"Yes, how shocking," Saudia noted dryly. "Keep me appraised of how that goes."

"And also on the agenda is the, ah," Kyong cleared his throat. "'Summit for the Discussion on the Role and Purpose of Religion Within ADVENT'. That is for January 5th."

"Expected turnout?"

"All-inclusive," Kyong said. "For better or worse, you and Chief Stein are going to be facing a full crowd. We have the Pope, the last Islamic Grand Imam still practicing, the Dalai Lama, many representatives of Hinduism, and of course, at least one representative from every major Christian denomination, as well as Jewish."

"Most likely at least forty to fifty," Hassan clarified. "Possibly more. Not to mention the media and crowds. This is, understandably, something that people are interested in."

"I imagine Stein is not looking forward to it?" Kyong smirked. "A full day of questions did not sound like something she was thrilled about."

"Stein finds religion about as useful as I do," Saudia sighed. "An unneeded institution that offers nothing practical to the world. At the same time, it is heavily woven into modern life even today. We can't just ignore it. So we have to at least try and reduce it without removing it entirely."

"The majority of the world is still religious in some way," Hassan reminded her. "It is falling, but it won't disappear overnight. The influence of religion can be reduced, while still being fair to those who practice it."

"And that I do not care about," Saudia said. "They are welcome to continue as they were. I do have an issue with those who deliberately spread misinformation or interfere where they don't belong. The limits are drawn now, and I imagine some are furious. Especially from America."

"That is putting it mildly," Kyong noted wryly. "However, the outrage has been rather muted in light of the alien threat. People simply have more to worry about than us clamping down on exploitative churches."

"Unfortunate we can't shut down Scientology again," Hassan chuckled.

All of them laughed at that. Saudia did remember that day had been good. Nothing quite like smashing a cult to start her day. One of the rare times the interests of ADVENT and Quisilia were aligned. He'd of course offered help, and they had politely turned him down.

"Then I suppose the schedule is set," Saudia nodded. "Thanks for the report, dismissed."

Both of them saluted, and left the room.

---

Barracks, the Praesidium – Classified Location

12/27/2016 – 8:12 A.M.

"It wouldn't be right if you left without saying hello to some people," the Commander said to Nartha as they walked through the Praesidium. "And I do have a surprise for you too."

Nartha was impressed with the new base of operations. Taking the original Sectoid Hive and repurposing it was, in retrospect, something he should have totally expected. It had everything the Commander would need, was larger, and incorporating alien tech was far easier. The news that Patricia had been taken was disturbing, as was what had been shared about the Imperator.

He'd thought the Battlemaster was dangerous. Compared to other Ethereals he seemed a much smaller threat. The good news was that XCOM and ADVENT were continuing to expand, and he now had actual, tangible data and messages he could take to the Nulorian, and any other allies he happened to make along the way.

"A surprise?" He didn't really know what could surprise him here that was more than an Ethereal, what XCOM had been developing, or the entire situation with the Sovereign Ones. "We just passed the barracks?"

"You can go back there," the Commander said, glancing down. "You have plenty of time before Fiona takes you back to the Collective. What's interesting is that we found one of the defectors that knows you. It would be a shame if you didn't meet."

Nartha frowned. Had more Zararch agents defected, because outside his family he hadn't had many acquaintances beyond the Zararch. That, while not unprecedented (Clearly) was not something he had honestly expected. The other aliens in the area were all Vitakara, mostly Vitakarians, which he wasn't surprised at.

"Ah," the Commander said with a smile. "There she is."

He pointed at a Vitakarian woman leaning against the wall, presumably waiting for him.

Wait. No.

That was his sister.

"Cairu…" he said in disbelief.

His voice caught her attention and she looked over to the source, and blinked rapidly several times when she saw him, clearly in just as much shock as he was. "Nartha?"

"I'll let you get caught up," the Commander said helpfully, and backed out, clearly pleased with himself.

Brother and sister stood apart, each not sure what to say. "I…" Nartha started, voice halting and starting, still not fully processing everything. "…was not expecting you here."

"I can safely say the feeling is mutual," Cairu answered, shaking her head and laughing. "Were you on their side the entire time? When you were back home?"

"At that point, yes," Nartha admitted. "I have been for some time."

"No wonder you talked highly of the Humans," she recalled. "I can't believe I didn't pick up something was off."

"I'm a spy," Nartha reminded her. "And even I can resist questions from my sister."

"Still," she shook her head again as he walked over by her. "How did you…well…how did it happen? You were always the rule-follower."

"My mission was to infiltrate XCOM, gather information," he gestured around him. "And…it was gradual. I made some friends here. Learned things about the Collective, and did begin to wonder…" he sighed. "Our species is not free. Everything on Vitakar is an illusion designed by the Ethereals, something I'd repressed since there wasn't anything I could do about it. But what the Humans were doing, resisting a power far greater than their own and enduring?"

He looked to her. "I wondered just how hopeless it would be to at least try and force change. The Ethereals will not release us, nor any of the others under their control. This isn't right, and this war with the Humans is unjustified and petty. The Commander…the leader of XCOM…he's someone who I think can actually do this. I suspect ADVENT was formed in some way by him, and with an Ethereal on his side?"

Nartha crossed his arms as Cairu appraised him. "The Collective cannot endure this. Not forever. The Ethereals made a mistake here. They are not infallible or invincible. There is fragility in the Collective, between the Andromedon Unions, between the Federation and Hive Commanders, even between other Ethereals. Our own people are losing faith in the Ethereals. It is slow, but I think that now there are those who are seeing the Ethereals for the false power they were." His voice turned dark. "Apathetic gods who believe their psionics gives them authority."

Cairu was silent for a few moments. "I didn't know you were that idealistic. That's what I'm supposed to be." Her lips pursed. "And naïve. I've talked to some of the others since coming here…it's been, as Humans would say, 'eye-opening'. I never realized just how little…freedom…we had on Vitakar."

"I wouldn't punish yourself for that," Nartha said. "The Zararch didn't spare any expense when designing the perfect illusion."

"I was there when Aegis appeared," she said, her voice small. "I didn't know what to think about that. And then he started attacking and I knew that if something wasn't done I'd die. The Elders had been…always unified. I didn't know this was possible. But I didn't want to die if we'd been lied to this whole time," she shrugged. "So I surrendered."

"Because you didn't want to die?"

"One reason," she shuddered. "And because…I'd been thinking about it already. This wasn't anything like I'd imagined it would be. Fighting Humans is…nightmarish. The ground always shakes, it's loud, and…bloody. I was on the initial attack on Korea as well. No one else in my group lived. They were either blown up, shot, or died from blood loss."

Nartha vaguely remembered writing up a report on Vitakarians where he'd specifically mentioned how they weren't cut out for fighting unless modified. He wished he didn't have to see that be verified in his sister who was understandably shaken. "War isn't pretty or fun," he said. "I'm sorry you went through that."

"I'm better now," she said. "Or at least getting there. The Humans are interested in seeing how they can help." She glanced down the hallway. "I doubt it's all altruistic. They just want data, but at least they try. I don't know what I'll do here. I think the Commander is considering letting some aliens fight, but I don't know if I want that."

She shrugged. "But then again, that's all I know."

"Well," he said. "Don't make a decision yet. Get better first. And there's nothing wrong with learning something different. Not everyone is cut out to be a fighter."

"Maybe not," she admitted. "I do feel rather pathetic for a soldier. Humans don't seem to have that problem from what I've seen."

Nartha chuckled. "Sister, you're surrounded by the most dangerous and well-trained Humans on the planet. Trust me, there are a lot of Humans who aren't soldiers, and I'm sure that even a good number of soldiers would not survive what you did."

"I did manage to survive the insane sniper," she noted. "That is something."

"What?"

"I'm still not sure," she frowned. "XCOM said that it's a Chosen, a unit of an Ethereal called the Creator. The Hunter. He started shooting both sides when the fight happened. He stopped, so I hope ADVENT managed to kill him. Although according to them, the Chosen are seemingly immortal."

He would have to look into that a bit more. Chosen. Probably wouldn't be too hard to find out. "You have people you want to meet?" She asked suddenly.

"Just one, mostly," Nartha said. "The others I knew either died or are gone. I'm not sure they all forgave me for lying to them."

"Oh, who is it then?" She asked.

"Shun Anwei," he said. "Have you met her?"

"I recognize the name," she said, though shook her head. "But just heard in passing. Sadly haven't met her. Though if you were her friend, perhaps I should."

"She was…pleasant to talk to," he said. "Her own people are not always accepted within here, so she appreciated someone who listened. I believe that was why she took the…revelation better than most."

"Hmm," Cairu gave him a curious look. "Well, go say hello to her. I'll be here, just come back before you leave, since I assume you're not staying."

"Unfortunately not this time," Nartha said. "But hopefully I'll have other opportunities to come back."

"In any case," she said walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. "I'm glad you're alive."

"You too," he said. "And please try and stay that way."

She snorted. "If anyone should be told that, it's you."

On that point, he couldn't disagree.

---

Situation Room, the Praesidium – Classified Location

12/27/2016 – 9:09 A.M.

The arrival of the Chronicler and their new…alliance…with T'Leth and his people had certainly opened up a host of new options, and many of them outside of Earth. They were still going to be limited, but it was far more than they had previously. Of course, the details needed to be hammered out, which was why the Chronicler and Zhang were in the same room with him.

"I would still advise that the number of agents in the Collective be limited," the Chronicler was saying. "Humans are not widespread, and they will be noticed."

"The difficult part will be getting them on Collective worlds in the first place," the Commander said. "Once on them, we can establish Gateways or other means of self-sufficiency."

"I would suggest we use them to establish a direct connection to allies," Zhang interjected. "The Nulorian are a way into Vitakar, and if we establish a Gateway in their territory, we could supply them with soldiers and equipment, and they could assist on operations on Earth if they wished."

"I like that idea," the Commander nodded. "With that said, I also think it would be a good idea to establish a working base on a world in Collective space. An uninhabited one, where they wouldn't think to look."

"It will take some time to find a suitable one," the Chronicler said, looking down at the blank holotable. "In the meantime, I still don't have a full map of Collective space. I didn't want to attempt direct operations until I'd spoken to you. However I would suggest that Gateways be established on Desolan and Vitakar, minimum."

"And you can do this?" Zhang asked.

"We can transport the materials and personnel," the Chronicler confirmed. "Fiona will likely handle that. She's more…adept at teleportation than I am, despite her reservations."

"Then I'll need to put together a group of soldiers and agents," the Commander nodded. "When we first meet the Nulorian, I'll go in person. I suspect they would respect that more."

"If you insist," the Chronicler sighed. "I have reservations of allying too closely with the Nulorian. They are not normal or stable Vitakara, nor do I think their goals are the same as ours. The few interactions I have had show that they are….radical. Willing to commit atrocities against their own people as Miridian dictates it."

"We need radical right now," the Commander shrugged. "And we don't have any allies elsewhere in the Collective. I think talking with Miridian will make things clearer."

"Most certainly," Zhang agreed. "Now for Earth. Will you and your…people…participate in the war?"

"I assume you mean in combat," the Chronicler said. "Not regularly, if at all. In retrospect, our…open operations in Australia were a mistake. The Imperator knows there is a Sovereign One in the vicinity, where before he had only suspicions. If he knows one is working directly with you, it might trigger the endgame immediately."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "So why risk it to begin with?"

The Chronicler's eyes became distant. "Two reasons. The first was that I had limited direction from T'Leth who was still…in a fugue. I had been conducting operations on my own for years, and hadn't received orders to stop, even though he could have. The second is that I am still Human, Commander. I didn't want to watch these aliens invade our world and do nothing."

"But you'll be taking a more subtle approach now," the Commander finished.

"That is the plan," the Chronicler said, nodding. "There is a way to stop the Imperator from controlling your world, but it is not the right time to enact it. Using the orbs we can block off certain points from his control, but too much of the world going dark…it will attract his attention."

"So no protection of Saudia or ADVENT?" Zhang asked.

"That is not advisable," the Chronicler agreed. "Those are high-profile areas and figures. The Manchurian Restraints will already be enough, and I also do not think ADVENT should be informed until Earth is under our control. Or even the Solar System."

The Commander thought for a moment. "You know Project Atlantis?"

The Chronicler shook his head. "No, though I can make a guess."

"Underwater facilities," the Commander clarified. "Factories and ship construction. A means of building a fleet in secret. Could those be protected?"

"Underwater…" the Chronicler mused thoughtfully. "Clever. Yes, I believe so. The ocean being dark would not likely arouse suspicion. Though this will take significant time to develop, even if ADVENT puts resources towards it."

"Definitely," the Commander agreed. "But it's already started, and Gateways are how they'll transport the materials in secret."

"Speaking of Gateways," Zhang coughed. "If possible, we would also appreciate understanding how to modify the size of them. Larger ones can allow for more or larger reinforcements, and when we reach the stage of space, they will be necessary for transportation."

"I will have one of my people speak to your science and engineering teams," the Chronicler said with a wave. "The Gateways were supposed to be extremely difficult to modify. It took T'Leth a…good deal of time to reverse-engineer them, even for him."

"So he didn't design them," the Commander noted. "Interesting."

"Of course not," the Chronicler snorted. "He prefers equipment more like this." He tapped his chest on the stony armor. "And our weapons, of course. Although ours are rather pitiful compared to what he can create."

"I don't suppose he'd share some of it with us?" The Commander asked.

"I can share the schematics," the Chronicler said. "Although you are unlikely to be able to build them. It requires…specialized equipment and materials that aren't on this world. And there is a certain level of comprehension needed to even construct them. It would be a mistake to think that the science behind Gateways is even remotely similar to that behind what T'Leth creates."

"Wonderful," the Commander rubbed his forehead. "If it's that hard, how do you have enough to give Agent Gertrude one?"

"Because I had an extra one," he shrugged. "And it was a gesture of goodwill. I believed that you would likely find it interesting. Perhaps you could use it in your own projects. But in general such technology is only for those who work directly with T'Leth. You would not be able to mass produce them." He also cast a side glance at the Commander. "And knowing you, I suspect you would attempt to improve even the weapon of a Sovereign. In general you seem to have a preference for forging your own path based on the tools you find."

The Commander smiled at that. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was one," the Chronicler said. "With that said, I have looked over your projects. Most are good, though for once I agree the Ethereal has a point regarding your proposed AI. That could backfire, and T'Leth and most Sovereign Ones avoid the development of such because it could potentially become a threat to them. Something outside their control that can't be controlled or influenced easily."

Zhang looked mildly amused. "Is that supposed to be a warning, or an incentive?"

The Chronicler furrowed his eyebrows. "A warning. If a Sovereign One has hesitations, you certainly should."

The Commander was fairly sure that he and Zhang were thinking the same thing. Yes, and AI was risky, but that even Sovereign Ones disliked the idea actually made it more appealing. Not as something to threaten them with, but as a…insurance policy of sorts, should that become necessary. It appeared an AI would serve multiple purposes.

Assuming it did what they wanted.

"Well, we'll continue with it for now," the Commander said. "We're taking appropriate precautions. None of us want a rampant AI."

"Our species has never developed something like this," the Chronicler said. "There are likely things we won't think about until it is too late. But this project is up to you."

"It is," the Commander said firmly. "Will you be remaining here for now?"

"I'll return Nartha, and then I will return soon after," the Chronicler said. "Then we can begin establishing Gateways on the designated worlds."

"That sounds good," the Commander nodded. "Zhang, put together a list of agents. I'll have Shen have teams of engineers for the Gateway construction ready, as well as some of my own soldiers."

"Yes, Commander."

---

Shooting Range, the Praesidium – Classified Location

12/27/2016 – 11:11 A.M.

Shun looked different to him, and initially he couldn't place what it was. She was still wearing the standard XCOM fatigues, same haircut and color, and this specific recollection was probably not something he should be doing. Oh well, he couldn't help if he had a sometimes oddly specific, but accurate memory.

He did wonder if she would recognize him, especially since the last time she had seen him, he'd looked like a Human. He had to admit, he was somewhat nervous about her reaction. Hopefully it wouldn't take her too long. There were only a few at the shooting range, and he'd walked into it just as she was finishing up.

A good thing one of the soldiers had been kind enough to point him this direction.

She then caught sight of him as he'd walked in, frowned, and appraised him for a few moments before her face morphed into surprise. She carefully set her weapon aside and walked up to him, while everyone else continued shooting. "Nartha…" she began tentatively. "Is that you?"

He let out a sigh of relief. "Oh good, I was afraid you wouldn't recognize me."

She laughed and pulled into an embrace which felt very warm. "I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

He let her go, and contemplated what to say. "Well…I was getting ready to go to sleep, and a strange Human appeared and requested I come back to XCOM to give everyone an update. So I was teleported by another nervous Human woman, appeared in the Commander's Office. We caught up for a while, and he surprised me by bringing me to meet my sister."

He paused. "It's certainly been an interesting day to say the least. But I wanted to at least say hello before I had to leave."

"I'm glad you did," she said. "I would have been furious if you'd been here and not said hello."

For better or worse, he was getting more accustomed to Human facial mannerisms. A smirk was almost natural now. "And just why would I do that? You were probably the only one here who didn't want me dead."

"I think most of us have gotten over that," Shun noted, nodding around her. "The amount of aliens here is a bit high for the so-called Extraterrestrial Combat Unit." She grew a bit more contemplative. "I'd wondered what you actually looked like, and I don't think I was too far off. It helped that we actually had some Vitakarians here."

"Not a disappointment, I hope," he paused. "Although I do differ from Humans in some-"

"No, I definitely think your eyes are better," she chuckled. "We can't really compete with glowing blue ones."

"Speaking of which," he noted, looking into her own ones which now had golden rims. "Yours look different."

"Ah, that would be the gene mods," she turned up her arm and raised it higher. "Better eyesight, better regeneration, and I can jump off a building and live. Not too bad, I think." Nartha could see that her skin did seem…not so much lighter as it was mildly translucent at times, when the light hit it a certain way.

"Good for you," he said. "I'm glad you're still alive. With how many on both sides had died, I'd wondered if you were one of the casualties."

She snorted in surprise. "I'm of the opinion that XCOM is one of the safest places to be in this war. And it definitely doesn't compare to working as a double agent in a Collective run by aliens who like reading minds for fun. If anyone was going to die, it would be you." She suddenly paused, eyes widening. "Don't take that the wrong way! I'm very happy you're still alive."

He laughed. "So am I. It hasn't really been easy."

She gave a brief nod. "I'd like to say I'd agree with it 'not being easy', but I don't think I genuinely could. I can't really imagine doing that. Working surrounded by enemies and without any help."

"The isolation is definitely one of the least enjoyable parts," he agreed. "The ones you want to help are suspicious for obvious reasons, and everyone else would kill me if they learned what I was doing. Having someone on the same side would have at least made that easier."

"Someone to talk to then?" She inquired. "I can understand that."

"I'm thinking that might change now," Nartha said, perking up. "I'm sure the Commander will want to use the Chronicler and his people to move us into the Collective." He hesitated. "Maybe you could come along?"

"Well," she pretended to consider. "I did have some espionage experience before I was moved to XCOM. Although you might want to suggest that to the Commander. Also, who is the Chronicler?"

Oh, right. He looked to the wall where there was a bench. "Let's sit down. Catch up properly. I've got time before I have to go."

"Good idea," she said. "And I need to ask about this sister. I didn't even know you had one."

"Yes, I suppose I didn't mention that." He remembered, sadly recalling that their time post-reveal had mostly been coming to terms with it and sharing a little bit of information about his species. At least now there was more time for more mundane stuff, like related family members.

It was a welcome change. If the Commander did send more soldiers back with him, hopefully Shun would be among them.

---

Manitoba ADVENT Command, Winnipeg – Canada

12/30/2016 – 12:13 P.M.

When he'd been officially recalled to Winnipeg, Neil Harrison had been expecting the worst. There were only two possibilities he could think of, the first was that he would be moved to one of the ADVENT Special Forces units, possibly the Lancers or Hussars. Given his background, neither would be surprising. The other option was him just being deployed to the front lines in the trenches.

Now while he was happy to do his part in the fight, getting sent to the trenches, even as an officer, would have been a waste of his skills, and while getting sent to a special forces unit would have been better, neither of those were exactly suited for him. He honestly would have preferred to just stay where he was, or previously been with much of the Canadian military still in limbo after being integrated into ADVENT.

ADVENT had essentially shipped over a lot of armor and weapons, and had the military just equip that and keep their positions until further notice. Now they were actually looking to integrate them more fully. Which unfortunately meant that Canadian special forces was one of the first targets.

With that said, it seemed very clear now that what Commander Christiaens had planned was not what he expected.

ADVENT Command here was impressively developed. The situation room they were in was filled with screens, computers, and a kind of holoprojector from the ceiling. Most of the people in the room were busy on other things, but the ones who mattered were himself, a bearded man he'd never met before, a dark-skinned woman dressed in the similarly black uniform of ADVENT Intelligence, an Asian man who was apparently some high-ranking ADVENT Engineer, and of course the Commander of the ADVENT Military Forces herself.

Neil had never heard of Laura Christiaens before ADVENT. Well, not exactly, he had heard her name before. An important NATO figure, but that was it. Since then, he'd done some more research and was beginning to see why she had likely been selected out of others, who he frankly felt were far better military tacticians.

ADVENT was not an ordinary military, it was comprised of soldiers from all across the world, and making sure everyone got along and everything was handled effectively was a much bigger task. All potential criticisms of NATO aside, it was the closest thing to ADVENT that had previously existed. It made sense that the former Chairman (or woman in this case) would be given the task of something close to the same thing, only on a much grander scale.

If nothing else, she did seem to listen to those under her and push for greater military strength and technology. Always a plus.

"Everyone is here then," Laura looked to the Asian man. "We can begin. I assume all of you know who I am. This is Feng Mercado, Chief of ADVENT Engineering and Development."

The man gave a small nod. Neil blinked. Well, that was interesting. What was someone like that doing here? It was already strange that they were speaking directly to the Commander herself, but there were a surprising number of important people here. He briefly wondered who the other two people were now.

"We can go around with introductions," Laura said, motioning to the bearded man. "The three of you will be working closely together, so it would be good to know names."

"Walter Blakenship," the man said, his voice gruff and cracked as if he wasn't used to speaking much. "ADVENT "Alaskan Advisor", or whatever useless name they gave. No clue what I'm doing now."

"We asked Mr. Blakenship for advice on operations in the Alaskan wilderness," Laura said smoothly. "There are few better when it comes to cold-weather survival. I also understand that you breed, train, and use sled dogs?"

Walter huffed. "Best in the country."

"There you go," Laura nodded. "This will be relevant shortly." She gestured to Neil. "And you?"

"Neil Harrison," he answered. "Former Canadian Special Operations Regiment operative. Primarily specializing in long-term reconnaissance, survival, and independent operations."

"A modest way of putting it," Laura raised an eyebrow. "Operative Harrison is among the top of the entire CSOR, and has received multiple commendations for his service."

Which meant he had a bunch of medals and stuff for just managing to live on his own and write down notes on enemy parties. Not nearly as impressive as Laura made it sound, but it would look bad to dispute her. "I did my job, Ma'am, nothing more." He also didn't add that he wasn't exactly at the peak of his career either anymore. Prior to the invasion, he likely would have retired by now.

Damn aliens, messing up everything.

The woman preempted Laura asking for her to continue. "Cycelea Shaw," she allowed a cynical smile showing her bright teeth. "Inquisitor of ADVENT Intelligence."

Walter narrowed his eyes. "The hell is an Inquisitor?"

"Something you don't expect," Neil said dryly, and he could swear that Laura resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Cycelea gave a genuine smile at him this time. With that said, he didn't know much about who, exactly the Inquisitors were. He did hear the name referred to some division in ADVENT Intelligence, and the implications were both obvious but troubling if so.

"Inquisitors are psions in ADVENT Intelligence," Cycelea explained. "Not known to the public for certain reasons. I specialize in telepathy, since you were likely wondering."

Neil resisted a shiver. Psionics in general was odd, but as long as it was tangible he would get used to it. The purple fire and shields he'd seen from the footage was one thing, but telepathy was completely unnerving. That checked off too many boxes that made him just want to avoid anything to do with psionics.

The first time he'd seen a telepath walk into a group of aliens and with a gesture made them shoot themselves in the heads was enough to convince him that psionics would have been better off if it hadn't been discovered. Sure, it was useful against the aliens now, but he would laugh if the aliens couldn't do the same thing.

Walter didn't seem to be fond of the idea either. "I don't want to work with a spook, much less a fucking mind-reader."

"You don't have to worry about me doing anything like that," Cycelea said, tapping her head. "Manchurian Restraints. Can't use my abilities on Humans. Have a code phrase if I start acting up. I'm not a threat to anyone here."

"Inquisitor Shaw is correct," Laura said. "She and her colleagues will not subject you to their abilities unless specifically ordered or the action is beneficial. You will be supplied with the code phrases, Operative Harrison. Not generally protocol, but you'll be cut off from our network for some time."

He cocked his head. "There are more?"

"ADVENT Intelligence has allowed the deployment of three Inquisitors to assist," Laura clarified. "Inquisitor Shaw is in charge of them. However, we should get to why all of you are actually here right now."

Feng clicked a button on his tablet, and a glowing blue map of Canada and Alaska appeared. "The three of you are the core leadership of what we are calling Operation: Long Dark," Laura began. "In short, this involves slowing or stopping the continued alien incursion into Alaska and Canada. Much of it is more rural, and isn't especially fortified. Despite the major attacks ceasing, the aliens are continuing to advance and take over the small towns and cities." She looked each of them in the eye. "You will stop this."

"The three of us?" Walter asked skeptically.

"No," Laura shook her head. "You will have a team of operatives working with you. There will not be many, but all of them – as well as yourselves – will have an advantage. The aliens do not know this world, much less how to survive it. Winters here are harsh and unforgiving, but fortunately, most of you have experience thriving in these kinds of conditions. You will use this to defeat, hamstring, sabotage, or otherwise trap the aliens here."

She looked to Neil. "Mr. Harrison, you will be officially in charge of this operation. Once we are done, you will approve who you want to accompany you. This is a guerilla campaign, and one best suited to your skills. You will have full control over how it is waged, but your objectives will be immutable: Push the aliens back, rescue or liberate civilians, and recover any ADVENT personnel you find or learn about."

Now this was something he could do. "Yes, Commander."

"What can we do with the civilians?" Cycelea asked. "Most will not be able to survive in the wilderness as well as we will."

"You will have some means of contacting us," Laura said. "You will have equipment that will be able to transmit your location and if you need civilian extraction, the numbers can be adjusted. If you manage to liberate a city or town, we will attempt to send soldiers to secure the area and fortify it against future attacks."

"And why isn't this being done already?" Walter asked.

"It is," Laura said coldly, turning his gaze to the man. "However, it is being done slowly because much of rural Canada and Alaska is isolated, unconnected, and any forces we send are susceptible to ambushes. Not to mention this is one area where the aliens have established airbases and have a larger air presence. We don't want to risk provoking another fight until we're ready, and the brutal truth is that the rural areas are not as important as the cities. They are not worth waging a war at this point." She paused. "That is not to say they don't have worth, but in the scope of the world it's a necessary decision. But we are not doing nothing, as that is why all of you are here."

Walter huffed, but didn't say anything. Neil had some more practical questions. "So what is our equipment, weaponry, and transportation?" He asked. "Conventional travel won't be possible with what I'm thinking."

"Transportation will be covered with Walter," Laura gestured to him. "Sled dogs for faster transportation and supplies. There will be some Molosser Handlers who are available, if you want the hounds in your arsenal. Additional supplies will arrive at scheduled dead drops which will include components, ammunition, and medical supplies. It will be a significant amount, we have no intention of abandoning you. With that said, you will largely be on your own without contact from us."

"Your weaponry will be what you choose," Feng interjected for the first time. "Gauss, laser, or even conventional. The same applies for explosives and similar equipment. However, we have worked on developing armor for the exact conditions you'll be in."

Another press on his tablet and the holographic map was replaced with a new suit of ADVENT armor. This was distinct in several ways, namely how it was not bulky like most ADVENT armor, and if anything seemed to have very little actual armor. The entire suit seemed to be covered in some smooth fabric, although there were some areas that clearly indicated armor under the fabric.

The helmet was similarly thinner and seemed to be attached to the fabric at the neck, and had a standard white facemask without any strange shapes or complexity. "This has been referred to as Snowtrooper armor," Feng continued. "Designed for operation in cold weather, contains internal and external temperature monitoring and heading, invisible to infrared, not reflective, and can be camouflaged at the desire of the owner."

Mercado looked rather proud of it. "In short, it is perfect for your own operation here. The aliens will not be able to detect you. The suit is completely sealed, with an additional thin aerogel over it, and filtered, which means no heat will escape. Chemical or gas attacks will fail, as well as smoke."

That all sounded great, although he was concerned about one thing. "The suit sounds like it will take up energy. We might not be able to replenish it fast enough."

"The suit has two modes of being powered," Feng continued. "An elerium core which will last up to two weeks of constant use. Each suit has two. It can also be powered by more conventional batteries. We have also developed a manual recharge device which is capable of recharging both elerium cores and conventional batteries. You will receive additional elerium cores if they become damaged."

"Nice," Cycelea nodded, eyes glinting as she looked over the glowing hologram.

"Indeed," Feng nodded. "We have also designed it to integrate with a prototype trench coat, currently designed to be immune to acid, but at the moment will also act as another means of insulation. It is stab-proof, and has some limited protection against light plasma." He pressed another button and the Snowtrooper was wearing a trench coat, with the option for a hood. It did look pretty neat, Neil had to admit.

"We're planning for your team to be the first field test," Laura said. "It's done exceptionally well in controlled environments, but it needs to be properly used. Your team is ideal because if it doesn't work, you will be able to survive on your own."

"That sounds good," Neil nodded. "So will I be reporting to you?"

"Reports will be due every month," Laura said. "They will go to ADVENT Command, but I will likely be reading them. We expect them to be thorough, and will be transferred via the dead drop. Do all of you understand?"

The other two nodded, and Neil joined in. "I believe so, Commander."

"Then you may begin as you see fit," Laura said. "You will deploy in three days. Pick your team. Your starting location I will leave up to you, as well as the operation itself. Do not fail, Commando Harrison."

He saluted. "No, Commander. I will not."

---

ADVENT Recruitment Center 0821, Atlanta – Georgia, United States of America

1/2/2016 – 3:22 P.M.

The questionnaire that he had been given was interesting, and not entirely what he expected. It was split into what he saw as three different sections. The first seemed to be gathering his views on law and justice, the second part covered morality and consequence, and the last portion was a host of random scenarios which didn't have obvious answers.

This seemed like an unnecessarily long morality test, which was odd to see from ADVENT. The good news was that he was definitely confirmed to have psionic potential, rather highly too judging from the reaction of the nurse who'd run the test through an odd-looking contraption which he assumed took brain scans.

There was no time limit on the test, but the room he was in seemed designed to be as unnerving as possible. It felt like a glass cage, with every wall being a one-way mirror which he knew people were watching from the outside. He had, admittedly, taken his time on this. It did make him wonder if ADVENT was actually serious on having psions fit certain psychological profiles.

If so, he was somewhat concerned.

Finished, he stood and knocked on the door. It opened and a man in an ADVENT uniform walked in. He was roughly six feet, dark-skinned, and with an amused glint in his eyes. Ivan wished there was a way to easily identify what rank they were, because the only identifying mark on his uniform was the ADVENT PRIEST Division emblem.

He was also unarmed. "Done already?" He asked.

"Yes," Ivan said, handing the sheet to him. "Complete."

"Good, good." Instead of leaving, the man went to the wall and grabbed another chair and placed it opposite the one Ivan had been sitting in. "Take a seat, Mr. Smirnov."

So they were going to do the interview here? "Alright."

He waited for a few minutes as the man read his answers. Ivan would not have been surprised if the man was a psion himself, or there was another one close by. He also noticed that the man had a communication device in his ear, and had another beige file on the table. Probably the one on Ivan himself.

"Your answers are different than what I'm used to," the man finally said, setting them down and appraising him.

"In a good or bad way, Mr.…?"

"Daniels," he supplied. "And I believe we should see. Inconclusive is what I find. Most people fall heavily one way or another. You fall into the middle of two opposites." He nodded to the paper. "What is your impression of what you just completed?"

"A means of weeding out candidates who don't fit a specific criteria." He said.

"A good answer," Daniels said. "However, not the correct one. This," he rested a hand on the paper. "Gives me perspective on the candidate itself. No one can be disqualified from this. What they say and do afterward determines that."

So more akin to a crude psychological profile. And combined with the file they no doubt had on him, meant they could likely establish a fairly accurate read on him. Which meant that this man was likely at minimum a psychologist or interrogator. Someone who knew how to read and react to people. He did not especially like coming to that conclusion.

"You want to use ADVENT as a means to an end," Daniels began. "Is this correct or not?"

Ivan believed it would likely be a bad idea to lie to the man. "A cold way of putting it, but yes. Considering my own workforce has been so helpfully destroyed by ADVENT, I need to acquire a more usable skill. And with the direction the world is heading, having worked with ADVENT will be a useful anecdote."

"I see," Daniels said. "Practical, even if selfish."

"I'm making the best of a bad situation," Ivan stated. "Forgive me if I don't buy into the grand vision of ADVENT. They are the reason I am here now."

"And yet you still would come to us," he refuted calmly. "Law as a field hasn't died. I'm certain you can find work elsewhere."

"In a year, the world might not exist," Ivan shot back. "And contrary to what you think, not all law fields are the same. I can't just apply somewhere else. It's not a fucking computer science degree, and I'm well above the menial intern work. So I'd rather actually try and set myself up for the future, assuming the war is won."

Daniels nodded. "So this is about you."

"Is that a problem?"

Daniels didn't answer, but glanced back down at the paper. "What do you know about the PRIEST Division?"

"That you're psions. You fight aliens and have abilities," Ivan shrugged. "And you put bombs in their heads to keep them in line. Can't say I'd be thrilled with that, but I assume you only blow them up if they become a problem."

"That is a very basic description," Daniels said. "And if you weren't psionic, was there a backup plan?"

"Likely something in ADVENT's law division," Ivan shrugged. "I'm aware of the irony."

"I see," Daniels focused on Ivan intently. "And why choose the PRIEST Division first?"

"If I have the capability to use psionics," Ivan answered slowly. "I want that. It would be a suitable repayment for ADVENT destroying my previous career." Ivan took a breath and calmed down. "I'm not a fan of ADVENT, but I can promise that I won't cause problems. I'll follow orders and so on, though I will leave once my time is up and not look back."

Daniels gave a single nod. "And you say you want to…use your abilities afterwards. I fail to see how that would benefit your chosen field."

"Telepathy, even emotion sensing, would be useful," Ivan gave a grim smile. "You have no idea how good it would be to know if the scum I deal with from all sides are lying to my face or not. I'm only interested in justice here, Mr. Daniels, for all parties."

"Justice can be subjective, Mr. Smirnov," Daniels pointed out. "The Law is what is important."

"You know what I mean."

"I suppose I do," Daniels said. "You are aware that the PRIEST Division is not one you can exactly walk away from?"

"I would hope not," Ivan said slowly. "I don't see how you can keep control of someone indefinitely. That can't be legal."

"ADVENT has to be careful with psions," Daniels gave an apologetic shrug. "We can't risk them being set loose into the general population. Too many would descend into vigilante justice, exploit their powers in their workplace, as you so helpfully illustrated, or simply settle old scores. That is not to say they are treated badly, but psions won't enjoy the same freedoms you have now."

He tapped his head. "You don't just get a neural bomb, you also have the Manchurian Restraints. A type of mental conditioning which ensures you don't pose a threat to ADVENT or it's citizens."

Ivan was mildly shocked. "How can that possibly be legal? Taking away someone's free will, what is the line then?"

"It's perfectly legal, and supported by all areas of ADVENT," Daniels explained. "Psionics, Mr. Smirnov, isn't a toy. It's not a weapon. It is a tool, one which the wielder needs to be careful of using. It should be used for the protection and improvement of mankind, not to be used selfishly or as a crutch. It is a last resort, not the first."

He sighed. "Based on your responses, both in this discussion, and on the questionnaire, I do not believe you are fit for the PRIEST Division. Now-"

"What?!" Ivan demanded furiously. "I know how valuable psions are to ADVENT. You can't just refuse me just because you don't like me. How can you say I'm capable of psionics, but not actually make me a psion?"

"Psions are valuable," Daniels agreed. "But we want responsible ones. We will find more, and the ones who match the goals and values of ADVENT. You do not fit this, and giving you power is a risk I am not willing to sign off on."

"I know I'm a powerful psion," Ivan insisted. "I saw how the nurse reacted. Can you really afford to reject me?"

"All the more reason to," Daniels nodded. "I would quote you a line about power and responsibility, but I suspect you wouldn't grasp the implication. Now, if you wish to still work in ADVENT's legal division-"

"Forget it," Ivan stormed up and to the door. "I'm not interested in working for people like you."

Daniels might have said something, but Ivan didn't hear it as he walked furiously out of the room and through the hallway until he reached the lobby. Slamming the door open, he stepped aimlessly onto the sidewalk and began walking.

He had no idea what he was going to do now.

---

Kensington Palace, London – Britain

1/2/2017 – 8:12 A.M.

Another year come and gone. Saudia had never really felt the need to celebrate such, and yet in light of the alien invasion, there were still those who celebrated. There were the usual public events and such, though they took a markedly different feel when there were ADVENT soldiers at multiple checkpoints, Priests inserted into the crowd, and visible (as well as hidden) snipers on the roofs and vantage points.

Yet for some reason, millions of people tuned in to watch a giant ball drop. Riveting.

Next year maybe ADVENT would have a proper New Years event.

But a new year, same work.

She had dressed in notably civilian clothes today, since Prince Mason had suggested such, as she definitely didn't want the media to get wind of this. Questions about why the Chancellor of ADVENT was meeting the Duke of Cambridge would look suspicious, especially in light of the upcoming referendum. Luckily the good Prince had made the arrangements for a quiet pickup with a driver he trusted, which had taken her straight to Kensington Palace itself, well out of the normal public entryway.

Ethan hadn't been supportive of her going alone, but she knew that she was perfectly safe. While she hadn't specifically authorized it, she was quite certain that ADVENT Intelligence would be keeping an eye on any potential threats, and under her clothing was armor that would stop small arms for a short while.

She was capable of defending herself. More importantly, she saw no reason why the Prince would invite her just to kill or capture her. From the dossier on him, that would be idiotic, which was highly out of character.

She was immediately met with two well-dressed guards, as well as a figure she assumed to be some kind of butler or greeter. "Chancellor Saudia Vyandar," he said, his voice cultured and slightly dismissive. "Welcome. His Highness will see you now. Follow all instructions."

"Of course," she said as they walked, glad that the man hadn't given some long-winded greeting. All of them were content to walk in silence as they made their way through the palace. As expected, it was lavishly decorated and furnished, with every centimeter impeccably clean and orderly. There were some housecleaners in the background, but none of them looked their way.

Saudia idly wondered just how many guards were following them, no doubt concerned about her. For once, she felt that the number of eyes on her was probably not for her protection. They walked up some stairs, and a few more turns later they arrived in front of double doors which the man opened grandly.

Inside was the expected lavish dining room, complete with ornate carpet, glossy wooden tables, a full meal and silverware laid on the table, and tall windows illuminating the room with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. It was impressive, but she'd lost her ability to be impressed at gross displays of wealth a long time ago.

"His Highness Prince Mason, the Duke of Cambridge," the man announced. The man who was sitting at the end of the table stood and gave a greeting smile.

"Chancellor," he said with an extended hand. "Welcome to the Kensington Palace." He nodded to the man. "You are dismissed. Ensure no one disturbs us."

With a nod the man left and shut the doors behind him. Saudia appraised the man before her. He was dressed in a simple suit, hair and beard precisely trimmed, and skin still tanned. He was still rather young, only thirty-five, and it showed. And while she couldn't tell from looking at him, he was still fit according to his dossier.

He was still shorter than her though. Then again, most were.

"Help yourself to breakfast if you wish," Prince Mason said, gesturing to the food. "And you may take a seat. I didn't know if you'd be hungry, but always best to prepare. At the very minimum it will improve the aroma."

She was somewhat hungry, and the food looked good. "Your hospitality is appreciated," she said, taking a seat at the end of the table.

Mason returned to the end to the table and took his seat, which had a similar platter of food before him. There was also a noticeably large file sitting beside it. "It's the least I can do here," he said as she began eating. "The Chancellor of ADVENT should receive nothing less. I admit, I didn't know if you would even see my request, much less come to me."

"I will echo the sentiment," she said. "I was not expecting any contact from the Royal Family. You can say I am here out of a certain curiosity. You in particular would not ask to meet without reason."

"Yes, I'm certain you know quite a bit about me," he smiled without goodwill. "But you, Chancellor, are something of a mystery. No background, no public record, nothing. It took MI6 several months to connect you to a small mining company in Nigeria, which was also interestingly not listed on any registries and has exceptionally heavy security for such a small family business."

Saudia returned the smile and sipped her water. "Not all of us come from the expected, Duke Mason. And if MI6 wanted information, well, they could have asked. But I suspect they learned little more than that, am I right?"

"That, I'm afraid, is classified," he said, the smile maintained. "But as far as I am concerned, you past, or lack thereof, is irrelevant. You are the Chancellor of ADVENT, and that is not going to change. You seem to be a fair woman, a good leader, and can make the decisions necessary for one in your position. Good qualities."

"Flattering," she said neutrally. "I do my best."

"I actually believe you," he nodded. "Or you at least try, which is more than I can say for many politicians."

"I don't consider myself a politician."

"Oh, I agree," Mason took a sip of his tea. "However, I believe we should begin discussing why I wanted to speak to you in the first place. I am a realist, Chancellor. As much as Parliament dislikes the idea, I am certain Britain will soon join ADVENT. The will of the people will not be ignored, and frankly it is irresponsible of us to sit this conflict out."

"The Royal Family has not given an opinion on the referendum," Saudia noted. "Is there support?"

"The Royal Family will not give a statement either way," Mason explained. "Internally, we are conflicted, the Queen in particular is concerned about the effect ADVENT would have on our country and culture. The aliens are a threat we all recognize and need to face, and it is best done as part of ADVENT. At the same time, your statements and plans for the monarchy are…understandably disquieting for us."

Ah, so this was going to be discussed. Saudia set her teacup down. "While I agree your reservations are understandable, this position is not one I will change. The monarchy is an outdated and irrelevant means of influence and standing. Everything about the concept goes against the meritocracy of ADVENT, as well as my own values."

"You are aware that we do not control the country," Mason smiled. "Unless you believe the conspiracies."

Saudia chuckled. "I suspect that the daily briefings the Royal Family receives, and the Queen's weekly discussions with the Prime Minister are not filled with random trivia. To suggest the Royal Family does not have influence is laughably naïve, as you no doubt know." She shook her head. "The average individual does not receive dossiers from MI6."

"Touché, Chancellor," Mason nodded. "Though I do say that we did not control the country. I never said we don't have influence, or aren't well-informed on matters of state and international security."

"And then you can understand why I see an issue with a certain family having access to such information, and possessing such influence, simply because they were born correctly," she answered neutrally. "The fact that the Royal Family is also unelected, but is also publicly funded does not improve the image in my eyes."

"Says the unelected woman of ADVENT," Mason pointed out. "I don't recall an election for your appointment."

She smiled at that, a real one. He was smart. "A special case. Future Chancellors will be elected. Obviously we couldn't hold an election in the…circumstances. With that said, I earned my position here."

"Yes, through your mysterious intelligence past," Mason said with a tinge of sarcasm. "But I'm also not convinced you can claim ADVENT is so much better when you have an entire team deciding who can, and cannot be elected."

"Qualifications are important," Saudia retorted. "And since you sound like you did research, you would know Election Oversight only bars those who don't meet the public specifications. I mean, it wouldn't look especially good on any nation that just allows anyone to run. That's how you get conmen and Nazis."

"Chancellor, I'm actually not disagreeing," Mason smiled. "In fact, your election system is something I quite like. Absolute freedom is not always something to strive for, but I am pointing out that you are ultimately giving the people the illusion of choice; because while they are free to vote for who they want, all the candidates are pre-determined by ADVENT."

He swept a hand to the side dismissively. "I won't deny you have points, and the perception is understandable for outsiders, but I will say that we have the interests of the British people at heart. And despite what you think, some of us do more than just sit in our palace and look down at the peasants," he smirked. "Me and my brother served in the military, our families give millions to charities and personally assist in humanitarian projects. We're public figures and role models to people, and we take that seriously."

"And there is nothing stopping you from continuing that," Saudia nodded. "If the monarchy wishes to be preserved, there is nothing preventing that. They will just no longer receive classified information, or receive public funding. I suspect that the personal wealth of your family is quite sufficient."

"While true," Mason admitted. "It comes with a side effect, one which I've noticed with ADVENT. Your rules are objectively 'fair'. But it will have the effect of my family fading into obscurity in the future. Like it or not, Chancellor, we are a heavily ingrained part of British culture. Our traditions, history, and politics are distinctly our own. Good or bad, it is ours."

He set his teacup down. "As it is now, ADVENT is not interested in preserving the cultures of the assimilated countries. You want to unite our species, that goal is clear. No divisions, no borders, no nationalism. All one species, one people. An admirable goal, on paper, and perhaps needed. But I do wonder if you've considered the consequences of it, because it seems very little has been done to limit the potential cultural damage."

Saudia rested her hands on that table. "I will be honest here, Duke, I care very little for tradition and convention. I find it often holds people, and our species as a whole back. Many people do things 'traditionally' because that is the way it is done, even if it is the wrong way. The impact, or lack thereof, on the cultures we assimilate is a non-issue for me. If certain cultural norms vanish as a result of ADVENT, then perhaps they weren't worth preserving to begin with."

Mason looked at her thoughtfully, a finger idly tapping on the table. "I believe I can understand where you come from, Chancellor. You may have been born in Nigeria, but you don't identify as such. You are a Human, with your first loyalty being to your species, not your nation. However, most aren't like you. As for what you said, I both agree and disagree."

He paused. "All cultures have positive and negative aspects. I don't think it would be impossible to emphasize the positive in your countries, while still remaining true to the core of ADVENT. I suppose it depends on what you want, Chancellor. Do you want a homogenized society with the same cities, the same government, the same food, the same norms, where countries are just pieces of land with different geography."

"Would that be so bad?" She asked.

Mason was silent for a few moments. "I would find it sad, personally. It wouldn't just be a loss of uniqueness and culture, but also a loss of history which has been ingrained in countries all over the world for generations. Perhaps that is a price of unification, but I don't necessarily believe it needs to happen. I sincerely believe that you simply have not considered it."

He moved the large file before him, as well as pushing the platter of food aside. "I am not one to just accept what is going to happen, though, but do my own small part to change it. To this end, I have taken the liberty of conceptualizing something I believe would have tangible benefit to ADVENT, while also addressing some of the concerns I raised."

Saudia moved her own platter of food aside. "You have my attention."

"Perfect," he opened the file. "My proposal is that of a melee-oriented division within ADVENT. I believe that with the Lancer Executors and the Templars, as well as multiple alien equivalents, that melee combat is resurging. The aliens have dedicated units for this, as does XCOM. But I noticed that ADVENT does not have such an equivalent, aside from the Lancers who are an extremely limited number. Does ADVENT plan on addressing this?"

"In the future, perhaps," Saudia shook her head. "But it isn't necessarily a pressing priority." She paused. "With that said, such a division would certainly augment our forces. You came up with this proposal yourself?"

"Along with a few friends in the armed forces, as well as some designers," he answered. "My inspirations came from the XCOM Templars, medieval history, and the Battlemaster, ironically enough. And it comes together to form what I am calling the Order of Terra. I assumed you would prefer a name that encapsulated our species, not one nation or organization."

He slid the file over to her. "While I obviously did not have access to the advanced equipment and materials you possess, the designs should speak for themselves."

Saudia began turning the pages, definitely interested as she saw the high-quality sketches and designs. He appeared to have legitimately put work into this. "Inspired by the medieval period, I see."

"I would wager that it is perhaps the most famous," he smiled. "Young children, and many adults, are fascinated by the period. One we romanticize quite often. Chivalry, honor, glory, all attractive and inspiring attributes for young minds." He waved a hand. "Of course, it wasn't all like that, but that is what we remember. There is something special about seeing even mock tournaments and shows today depicting such. But eventually the knights and lords disappeared as technology improved."

He looked at her intently. "I want this to serve two purposes. For you and ADVENT, it will provide another tool in your tactical arsenal and permanently fix the lack of a melee-oriented division. The second is as a means of inspiration and morale boosting. I expect even the aliens become inspired when the Battlemaster appears on the Battlefield. Or if you prefer more cold terms, as a propaganda tool."

"So how would this work?" She asked, looking through the papers. "You have several different ranks." She raised an eyebrow. "All named after medieval titles, of course."

"A missed opportunity if I didn't," he said, gesturing to the one she had now. "Squire rank, the lowest in the Order. Primarily would serve as the front line in an ADVENT attack with a greatshield augmented with alien alloys and charged coils to reduce plasma effectiveness. They could be armed with pistols or one-handed sidearms for long-range, and short swords or spears for close range."

The illustration in the file certainly looked more than what the typical medieval squire had. The armor was more styled in the vein of knights, although somewhat plain, while still retaining some of ADVENT's notable aesthetic. The 'squire' held a massive shield in one hand, with a pistol in the other and a spear strapped to its back.

"I imagine this is how ADVENT would be able to close the distance in firefights," Mason continued. "This would help break stalemates in ADVENT's favor. Obviously we are in the modern era, where long-ranged weapons are the norm. That is why all units have short and long-ranged weapons. Pistols for advancing forward, and their swords and spears when they engage at close range. Obviously these weapons and armor would be made to modern specifications."

"Useful," Saudia noted. "The Oyariah Titans have attempted similar tactics against us. Were it not for psions, they might have been more successful."

She flipped the page to the next unit. "A Knight proper," Mason said. "An officer equivalent if you want to use that terminology." The illustration here had two different Knights, one holding what looked like a flaming sword with a kite shield, and another holding a rifle with the sword sheathed and the shield over the back.

The armor looked similar to the squire, although it seemed slightly less bulky and the helmets were noticeably more ornate, with 45 degree angled wings on the sides for one, and a clearly-inspired late-medieval period-like helmet for the other. "This is where some personalization can come in," Mason said. "I thought the shield could be decided by the Knight themselves. They could have different types, with their own emblems – ADVENT-approved of course."

"Acceptable," she noted absentmindedly as she read a few of the notes, mostly about color or alternative design. This was definitely just a concept, after all. The image of a Knight holding a rifle was rather amusing to her, but she had to admit if there was ever a modern knight, they would definitely have to have something like that.

"Next are those ranked Lords," Mason said as she flipped to the respective page. "Or Ladies, if you prefer. Akin to a Marshal in purpose, and who are always on the front lines, as should be expected of leaders. These I envisioned as having more freedom, as you can tell."

She definitely could. The largest differences in the illustration compared to the previous two was the helmet (Which didn't look too dissimilar to a Knight) and a cape. Mason had clearly been inspired by the Battlemaster for this one. But what stood out to her were that the four illustrations of these Lords had different weapons. One had a greatsword, one had a sword and shield, another had an axe, and the last one wielded a warhammer.

"I certainly like this concept," Saudia said, looking up at Mason. "It could certainly be viable. Although I assume you have a leader in place, or equivalent rank."

"Oh, certainly," he smiled, motioning for her to turn over the page one last time. "The proposed title of the Lord Commander of the Order of Terra." Sure enough, she saw the illustration which was extremely similar to the Lords, though there were multiple notes that the color of the cape would not be red, but black.

"With the same freedoms as the Lords, except not quite as often participating in combat," Mason added. "I didn't see a need to become overly complex here, as this is not something which needs unnecessary ranks or promotion. However, there is one important element to all of this."

She raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Knighting was always a ceremonial affair," he explained. "ADVENT is not especially ceremonial, from what I've seen. For the Order, I want to have some of this ceremony, and this is where people like me come in. When promoted to Knight or Lord, such ceremonies could be conducted by the respective monarchy or royal equivalent."

He soon expanded on that. "This is up to the soldier, of course, but for those who wish it, it could be turned into a celebration of sorts. A public event to boost morale if you want a tangible benefit. However, what this does is it preserves some part of the cultures of these countries, while not giving those in monarchies any actual power. Their role is purely ceremonial, which is what you want if I'm not mistaken."

"What about for countries without such an equivalent," Saudia asked. "America has something of a…bad history with monarchy."

"Well, that's the interesting thing," Mason said. "You would have two options. Promote as standard, or find a family with some kind of connection, not necessarily to royalty, but knighthood. I suspect even in America you could find someone. The point is someone with a connection to their own country. Can you really say Japanese or English soldiers wouldn't feel pride and accomplishment upon recognition from their Emperor or Queen, respectively?"

"Perhaps it couldn't hurt," she straightened in her chair, considering. "Now, where do you fit in this? I am impressed with this proposal, but I assume you want a position in it? Lord Commander?"

"I considered it, but no," Mason shook his head. "I am not in prime shape anymore. I am healthy, but not suited for combat now. With that said I would want a position in ADVENT. To fill a niche you have forgotten about until now."

"Which is?"

"Something akin to a…cultural preserver," he said thoughtfully. "Someone who would, instead of homogenizing every aspect of ADVENT, work to keep the uniqueness of other countries while not compromising ADVENT values. All done in accordance with ADVENT standards, of course," he nodded to her. "For most people, I wouldn't think this would accomplish anything. A throwaway position with no real influence. But you are a reasonable woman, Chancellor. I believe it would be worth something with your approval."

He clasped his hand together and leaned forward. "If we could come to an agreement regarding this, I know it would assuage concerns in my family. The Crown would publicly support the referendum and solidify our entrance into ADVENT. Provided ADVENT was also public about our role in the creation of this division, and promotion of my own role. It would serve a purpose, I feel. Beyond thanks, it would show other countries they don't have to fear ADVENT destroying and reforming their countries based upon seemingly arbitrary whims."

Saudia thought for a moment. He made good points, and she wasn't one to turn down good ideas that weren't her own. "I think ADVENT would be open to what you propose," she finally said. "I cannot make a unilateral decision like this, but I do want all relevant parties to meet and refine this further. We can make this work, if you are willing."

He smiled. "I certainly am, Chancellor."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing what you will do in the future."

---

Atlanta, Georgia – United States of America

1/2/2017 – 6:12 P.M.

Food was welcome, but Ivan barely tasted anything as he ate. It was some burger joint he didn't even remember the name of, but had just wandered into as he thought. With some food and drink, he could think a bit more.

The good news was that he at least knew he was psionic. He sincerely doubted they would have lied about that, and that meant that there was a chance he could find some way to become sensitive on his own. Google searches unfortunately hadn't come up with anything, although there was much speculation about how, exactly, ADVENT and XCOM awakened psions.

He was also fairly sure that he was going to be blacklisted by ADVENT after that incident. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been so aggressive. It had on occasion served him well in court, but unfortunately it wasn't something he had a firm filter on. He'd never liked censoring himself because of some perceived insult, and that extended to people in authority.

Stupid, perhaps, but at least he could say he had a spine.

Of course, now that meant he had few to no options. He supposed he could swallow his pride and find some entry level position, or…actually, he could just emigrate away from ADVENT. Quite a few countries in Europe were still around, and still had some basic understanding of how criminal cases should be tried.

Yes, that seemed like a good plan. He'd have to sleep on it, but it was better than staying in ADVENT. He had no desire or future here. Let the aliens burn it all to the ground if they wanted. Who knew how much of the war was because of propaganda, and how much was true? He wouldn't have been shocked to learn very little of it was accurate.

Whatever, soon he would be gone from here.

"You will not leave the country." Ivan started at the voice as it appeared that some man materialized before him. He knew that no one was sitting across from him, but there sat a very gaunt and pale man in a trench coat, gloves, and no exposed skin aside from the face. He also wore shades, which looked exceptionally out of place as the sun had gone down, and who wore shades inside?

Ivan coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, but who the hell are you?" He held up a burger. "If you don't mind, I'd like to eat alone. Not had a good day."

"You will not leave the country," the man repeated. "They will not let you."

Ivan suddenly realized that the man's lips hadn't actually moved.

He blinked, wondering if he was just tired. "Sorry, but-"

The man reached up and raised his shades slightly, and Ivan saw two orange pools of light underneath them. Without a word he lowered them. Ivan turned cold as he acquired some inkling of what was going on. He quickly glanced around to see if anyone noticed, and saw them continuing on their way and seemingly ignoring both of them.

"They will not disturb us; they cannot." The voice turned raspy, yet crystal clear. It was the voice of something ancient and frail. Yet there was a hardness to it that dared any to challenge what it spoke. "The minds of the blind are frail and malleable. They are shaped into what is desired and needed. What you see before you is merely an illusion, one invisible to all others."

Ivan coughed. "Who…are you?"

"I am the Overmind of the Ethereal Collective," he rasped, words rattling in Ivan's head. "Second to the Imperator, and Watcher of his Plan."

Yes. Right. Whoever that was sounded important. "I assume you are talking to me for a reason?"

"I watch your world," he said. "Even now the people walk as those in a slumber, controlled and submissive to those in command. They follow and obey without question. They accept the status quo even when it affects them. They do not resist when pressured, and will back down upon resistance to their preconceived ideas. You are flawed on your own; aggressive and impulsive, but you keep your own mind. You have my attention for now."

First, he wasn't sure if that was meant as an insult or compliment. Both?

Second, he wasn't sure he wanted a dangerously powerful Ethereal interested in him. That might end badly if he screwed it up.

"You do know I was just trying to join ADVENT?" He said slowly. "I'm not exactly prime…whatever you want from me."

"You did not attempt to join because of loyalty to your species or hatred of aliens," the Overmind noted. "But because you felt it was the best option of a situation the fault of ADVENT itself. And when they refused you, you left forever."

"And I don't regret it," Ivan said. "Best choice or not, I'm not going back to them."

"The question is what will you do now?" The Overmind said. "ADVENT has marked you as a potential problem. You will not be able to leave them. You will be detained. Even as we speak ADVENT Intelligence is poring through your computer files, internet history, and case history. They will know everything about you, and you will be under their eyes forever."

Ivan swallowed. "Can I ask how you know this?"

A spindly gloved finger touched the man's head. "As I said, the blinded minds are weak and malleable. I simply watched and listened."

Ivan leaned back, rubbing his forehead. "In that case, assuming you're telling the truth, I don't have a future."

"Not here," the Overmind agreed. "But there are paths open to you. I will see if you can grasp them for yourself." Before his eyes, he vanished, leaving Ivan alone.

"Wa-" Ivan said mid-word before he stopped, seeing there was no point. He seemed to be alone now, and was left with a lot more questions than answers.

The first thing he needed to do was get back to his house and get caught up on what exactly was known about the aliens. Second was to seriously think about what he had said. Ivan was wondering if this Overmind Ethereal was going to offer to take him off-planet, or even awaken his psionic potential. But it made some sense that he hadn't done any of that yet. This alien did not strike him as someone to hand out answers or solutions.

It seemed more of a means of letting him know that someone was watching him.

But if he wanted more, he would have to take it.

He took a sip of his warming water, thinking. He would have to verify if what this Overmind had said was true or not. If it was, his life was as good as over. If it wasn't, then he still didn't owe ADVENT anything, but he'd be more wary of telepathic aliens appearing out of nowhere. But he had a feeling that the alien hadn't made anything up.

If that was the case, then he had nothing to really lose. In which case some drastic action had to be taken.

If ADVENT wanted to hoard their ability to awaken psions, then he might just have to take it.

Who knew, perhaps the Overmind would even help him out.

He had a plan now. Much different than what he had earlier, but succeed or fail, he would be better off. Now he had to start determining the specifics of how to execute it.

---

ADVENT Headquarters Forum – Switzerland

1/5/2017 – 1:02 P.M.

"We should not be afraid to call this what it is," Reverend David Steinman was saying. "It is the first step to the dissolution of the institution of religion itself. While ADVENT may be benign now, the signs point to an era equivalent to the dark times of Christian persecution."

This was starting off wonderfully.

The forum was packed with people, with the various religious representatives in the front rows, the media spread throughout, and a limited number of the public. She had made the decision to allow this to be televised, and wondered if she should have actually mentioned that to the speakers themselves instead of letting it remain an internal secret.

But too late to do anything about that. If these people wanted to give a sermon or condemnation, she was fine with it. In the interest of fairness each person invited would have an opportunity to speak directly to her and Stein, or however they wanted to use their allotted time, and then return to their seats.

Saudia and Stein were seated with their backs to the crowd, though they could see themselves on the two screens on both sides of the podium, allowing the crowd and cameras to always get their facial expressions and reactions. The representative of the Southern Baptist Convention, one of the largest religious bodies in the world, finally paused for breath and Saudia decided to interject.

"I do wish to correct you on one aspect," she said. "ADVENT has no intention of dissolving or banning the practice of peaceful and unobtrusive religion."

"Curious choice of words," Steinman scowled. "The definition of which depends on your own decision."

"The definitions do not change," Saudia answered calmly. "As long as what you're preaching doesn't incite hate or violence, doesn't deliberately spread misinformation, and does not affect the judgement of individuals in influential positions, and follow ADVENT regulations, then the religion is perfectly legal."

"And what do you say to your orders you sent to every church," he held up a piece of paper. "You are requiring us to install cameras in our sanctuaries, force us to register all our members in databases, and have observers watching us. What justification is there for that? This is intimidation."

Stein very much looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but she answered calmly. "You would only have a problem with such if there is something to hide. The world has suffered from religious violence before; radicalization within places of worship. That will not happen again."

The Reverend looked insulted. "You cannot lump Christianity in the same category as Islam, which was, if I recall, banned. Yet if I'm to understand, it is legal again?"

"We most certainly can," Stein said flatly. "It is not a matter of which religion is more or less 'good', it is a matter of fairness. We are not going to exempt anyone from following the law. If practicing Muslims make the necessary changes to their doctrine and follow our guidelines, they are just as legal as your own church."

The man looked like he was going to give some retort to that, but the timekeeper signaled it was up. "Thank you for your contribution," Saudia said with a smile. "We will have the next person come up."

Maybe this one wouldn't spend the majority of his time on a sermon.

The next few representatives were much better, and used their time to inquire more about certain details of the regulations. Saudia suspected they were asking, not because they didn't understand them, but because they knew this was being broadcast and most of the public wasn't as educated.

The line of questioning focused on the appointed observers, which Saudia was happy to explain in great detail. They could be involved as much or little as the church desired, they would be respectful of the members, and the only set rule was that they couldn't be barred from attending events. By the end, the Rabbi seemed more comfortable with the idea. Still skeptical, obviously, but to the surprise of no one, discussing things in a rational manner made everything clearer.

More questions came on the database and information gathering. Stein just explained that the religious affiliation was just another datapoint in a large list for citizens. It would of course be kept confidential and would only be accessed when necessary. Saudia suspected it helped that no one was exempt from this requirement, and it wasn't targeting specific denominations or religions.

The next man to take the podium was Reverend Ken Codsworth, of the Missouri-Synod denomination of the Lutheran Church. He was a tall man, greying hair and thin glasses. He had some notes in his hands which he placed on the podium. "Chancellor Vyandar, Chief Stein," he began in greeting. "The questions raised have so far not touched upon what I feel is a much more worrying concern. I would state that it is forcing us to teach against our beliefs, if not intentionally sabotaging us."

Saudia suspected she knew where this was going. "Our schools are where parents can be sure that their children will receive a Christian education, without being indoctrinated by other falsehoods about the world. But now," he paused for emphasis. "You are forcing us to teach your curriculum. What justification do you have to force us to teach evolution when it is something we do not believe is accurate."

Oh boy, here it went. "ADVENT simply wants to ensure that every child receives a quality education," she began. "That includes being properly taught the latest scientific theories and facts. At this moment the theory of evolution is the most well-documented and studied explanation for the origin of our species. If you have irrefutable proof that the universe was created out of nothing by a god, then we would happily teach that instead. ADVENT bases our curriculum on facts, Reverend, not beliefs. Just because children can go to a religious school does not mean they will receive a sub-par education, not anymore."

The man looked torn between fury and frustration. "And what if we refuse this?"

Stein answered. "That depends on the circumstances. If it is simply one teacher not following curriculum, they will be removed from their position and replaced. If it is the action of leadership, the school will be shut down and children placed into the nearest public school."

"I should clarify for all those in attendance that while parents of course have choices of schools, none are exempt from ADVENT regulations," Saudia added. "There are too many instances of abusive conditions, questionable curriculums, and religious indoctrination for any school to be exempt from this."

"Teaching our children about Jesus is considered indoctrination?" Codsworth demanded.

"Of course not," Saudia shook her head. "But the belief is something they should decide for themselves, not just because their parents told them they should. In school they will be taught truth and facts. If those lead to them believing, then that is perfectly acceptable. We want children to question, Reverend, not simply accept."

"You are also not forbidden from having religious classes," Stein added. "Be they history or theology. However, you simply cannot teach these as fact. The existence, or lack thereof, of a god cannot be proven or disproven. Ensure that they understand that, and there won't be misunderstandings."

"And how far does this extend?" The Reverend demanded. "I will not preach lies to my congregation."

Saudia raised an eyebrow. "Then don't. If you wish to hold a conversation on the merits, or lack thereof, of what you believe or disbelieve, then that is fine. But it needs to be based in something real, not a book written thousands of years ago." She glanced at the timekeeper. "Thank you for your contribution. The next person may come forward."

The next few followed the pattern of asking for more details about the curriculum and the finer points of what would, and would not be permitted. Again, likely more for the benefit of those observing than because they didn't know. The regulations had been decided some time ago. Now came one of the more high-profile guests.

His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama stood the podium, in his orange robes and with no obvious prepared statements. The elderly Tibetan man looked rather healthy for his age, and Saudia was expecting a nuanced take on ADVENT, like he did on certain issues. Given his stances, she doubted he supported ADVENT, but he'd never struck her as a fanatic.

She was interested to what he would say.

"I will keep what I have to say short and with limited questions," he began. "I would first like to commend Chancellor Vyandar for allowing this to take place in the first place. Discussion and talk helps us all understand each other, and despite the hostility she knew she would face, it was still allowed. An open mind is important, especially in the world that exists today."

Nice of him, and Saudia made a slow nod of acknowledgement. "But I must be truthful," he said, sadness in his voice. "This world has descended into chaos and violence. Yet this is not violence from the stars, but actively perpetrated by ADVENT itself on their own citizens." He looked around the forum. "Peaceful protesters being arrested and hunted, keeping their prisoners as slave labor, and enacting their will across the world through violence."

A shake of the head. "We witnessed the bloody destruction of the Arabic people, their conquering of Canadians who had done nothing wrong, and today they treat violence as a first resort, not last. The rights and liberties of people of all types have been stripped under ADVENT. They claim it is necessary, but in many cases I have seen that they are not interested in a dialogue when they believe their way is the correct one."

This was not unexpected from him, Saudia had suspected that he would have issues with ADVENT policies. Pacifists; she would never understand them. "It is not restricted to their own people," he continued. "ADVENT spreads a message of hate and intolerance towards the aliens from the stars. There seems to be no effort to solve this matter peacefully instead of continuing a conflict where millions die."

Stein did not bother to contain the look of absolute disgust on her face, and Saudia didn't especially refrain from showing her own nonverbal disagreement. "The right to defend is acceptable," he continued. "But escalation will only make it worse. At the same time…this is not a normal situation we as a species find ourselves in. I do believe that many in ADVENT are doing their best, yet I implore those here now to consider a less violent approach, and to treat all Humans with the dignity and respect to which they are entitled."

He looked once more out to the crowd. "We should all work to peacefully remind ADVENT to pursue this path. Violence and hate will only continue this cycle. Holding ADVENT accountable for their actions, positive and negative, is the best path towards true unity. It will not come through war or conflict, but through acceptance of all."

He focused on Saudia. "You are a hard woman, Chancellor, but you appear to understand something of justice and fairness. You have the capability to enact change across the world." He paused. "The Tibetan people have been persecuted and cracked down by the Chinese for decades. Is ADVENT prepared to hold to their ideals, as you are now allied with China?"

There were murmurs at that. It was a good thing she had considered the possibility of this question. "ADVENT has raised this issue with Chinese officials," she said. "We are in negotiations regarding Tibet, but China is aware that we do not approve of the current situation. We have also requested the release of the 11th Panchen Lama."

The media certainly liked that, with shocked faces as they double checked their cameras, as the people around them openly began talking. The Dalai Lama simply bowed his head. "For that, you have my thanks, Chancellor. Please consider what I have said here. The lives of billions will be decided by you."

He departed the podium as the next person came. That had gone as she expected; the good news was that everyone was likely going to focus on her statements regarding Tibet and the abducted Panchen Lama instead of his rather harsh condemnation of ADVENT policies. Fair enough.

A few more people later, and then stood Arnold Cameron, a minister of the United Methodist Church. Another elderly minister who failed to stand out, he nonetheless cut a strict and sharp figure, standing tall as he addressed both of them directly. From what Saudia recalled on the man, he had been raised in a military household so it made sense that his demeanor was noticeably different from most other ministers.

And he not exactly speaking favorably of ADVENT right now.

"Chancellor," he said slowly. "Can I have in no uncertain terms what you foresee the future of religion is under ADVENT?"

"Certainly," she answered. "Religion will endure under ADVENT, but without the extremist elements and regressive policies which have plagued the institution since its inception. I do not believe it should hold sway over the average citizen, and in the future, each individual should come to their own personal decision to participate or not."

He narrowed his eyes. "Smooth words, Chancellor. I am not convinced. I have pored over your guidelines, and it seems exceptionally clear that the intent is to have all religion die a slow death. Would you be displeased by this?"

She considered what to say, but decided to opt for the truth. "I would not be heartbroken. I have no deep ties or desire for religion to continue."

"I don't know if you know what you are truly proposing," Cameron said. "Much as some such as you deride religion, it is not solely responsible for the evils of the world, and indeed has brought significant hope and good to the world. Charities, art, philosophy – many people you admire from history were men and women of God. And you are saying that it would be better if this had never happened?"

Saudia sighed, thinking of how best to answer. "Religion has certainly done good for the world, Minister, no one can deny that. But religion is not special in this regard. As for the men and women of the past being religions that was, for lack of a better word, simply part of the time. That does not mean they were correct about everything. As our understanding of the world and universe has grown, it is no surprise that alternatives to a god emerge."

"I will add that there is nothing stopping from religions today from doing good," Stein interjected. "There is nothing saying that you cannot continue donating money, performing Humanitarian missions, and additional service work. Indeed, we encourage it. This is the purpose of these guidelines – to eliminate the pitfalls and failings of religion and promote the better aspects."

"Your guidelines themselves say differently," Cameron said flatly. "We can't ask for money from our congregations, all money has to be reported to ADVENT, we cannot spread our message outside of authorized events…these rules which you say help us do little more than neuter us. There is no excuse other than to ensure churches don't grow, and our message is controlled, then sanitized to what your people deem necessary."

"These are rules which are designed to counter specific abuses," Stein said coolly. "Which it may be an unnecessary inconvenience, there is nothing stopping your congregations from donating. I consider these guidelines a small price to pay to ensure that well-meaning people are scammed out of their money, or drawn into cults like Scientology, or otherwise taken advantage of my so-called speakers of god."

"But this should be done on a case by case basis," he pointed out. "Punishing all for the mistakes of a few is a thinly veiled effort to delegitimize and control religion as a whole. This is greater than the body I represent, and I do not believe you understand the consequences. Perhaps you cannot."

"And what consequences are those?" Saudia asked.

Cameron sighed. "Chancellor, you understand there are people who suffer in this world. Be it in body, mind, or soul. Perhaps it is the terminally ill, perhaps it is those in prisons, perhaps there are those who have everything but feel empty inside. They are without any hope, they know they need something, but don't know what it could be."

He motioned around. "For many that stability and hope comes from religion. I understand ADVENT prides itself on facts, logic, and evidence. Then take into account that religion is responsible for giving people something to live for, for giving them hope and meaning where there was previously none. By turning those who have done wrong on a better path. Religion has been responsible for saving many lives, Chancellor, ones you likely won't know about, but a person who feels like the world has nothing more to offer him and wishes to end it all may reconsider if they know that there is someone who does care."

He pursed his lips. "Faith gives people hope in very dark and hopeless times, Chancellor. Even now I am sure many soldiers of ADVENT are relying on that hope as they fight for a state which treats their beliefs as childish superstition. It gives them courage and strength to continue on. That, Chancellor, is what you and ADVENT wish to see gone. You would prefer an empty and cold world devoid of hope or comfort that is outside ADVENT. You would prefer people suffer in silence, and only rely on themselves. Belief is a powerful thing, Chancellor, especially if their faith is true. The blood will be on your hands, Chancellor, if you continue down this path."

That…was an eloquent speech. One she was not sure how to respond to initially. Stein took charge. "Minister, I do wish to reiterate that ADVENT itself has no established stance on religion. We have certainly never referred to it as such, nor subjected our soldiers to feeling uncomfortable or persecuted for their faith."

"Religion, I will say once more, is perfectly legal," Saudia added. "There is nothing stopping those who seek religion from finding it."

Cameron fixed her with a look. "Then why prevent us from seeking them out?"

"Unauthorized solicitation is an ADVENT standard," Stein answered neutrally. "Nothing is exempt from this. Including religion. But as you know, churches are of course allowed to host events provided they have authorization."

The man was clearly not pleased with the answer, but his face simply hardened as his time came to a close. "I have made my point," Cameron willingly stepped down. "Think on what I said. There is more at stake than just debating the finer points of religious regulation." He stepped down to the cold silence of the crowd.

Saudia had to at least commend him for holding to his beliefs so strongly. And making a case for religion while he was at it. An interesting perspective, and one she would think about at some point. But in the meantime, there were more people to listen to.

The next few were somewhat entertaining, and one of them flat out demanded why the practice of homeopathy had been banned, and she'd calmly responded that it wasn't based in fact or rationality, and those who actually performed it were very likely thieves and conmen. Most of the Indians in attendance had looked both offended and concerned. Unfortunately that was one region that still believed in it.

Luckily it wouldn't be that way forever.

The one up now was especially amusing. "Are you religious, Chancellor?"

She resisted the urge to smile. "No, I believe I mentioned this earlier."

Reverend Gabriel Adams sniffed. "Then what gives you the right to control what we believe and teach? You forbid us accepting donations from those who only wish to spread the seed of our Lord across the world? And furthermore, restrict those blessed by God himself from sharing this message!"

Adams, as it turned out, was one of the worst of the people invited here. He preached at a megachurch which she saw little better than an organized extortion racket to enrich himself. "We are not controlling what you believe," she said. "I don't believe anyone has stated that."

"As for restricting donations," Stein gave a grim smile as she looked down at her folder. "I believe you misunderstand how that works. Of course, there is nothing stopping donations to worthy causes. Churches will of course be connected with ADVENT-approved charities across the world. However, donations will not be used for…let us say, frivolous purposes," she glanced down. "Such as the five million dollar mansion you own, or the sixteen million dollar ranch you have in Texas, or your personal jet-"

"I'll have you know that all of those are necessary," Adams said with conviction. "They are needed to spread the word of the Lord. God himself gifted me with such treasures, and who am I to reject them." He narrowed his eyes. "And how could you even know what I have? What is that paper, and how do you even know it is accurate?"

"Well, then god will have to become more frugal," she said sarcastically, eliciting a chuckle from the crowd. "Oh, and this?" She held up the paper. "This is your arrest warrant detailing the assets which have been taken. Taking millions from the people you con is, sadly for you, illegal now and you'll serve as a good face to what we don't tolerate anymore." She motioned to two Peacekeepers which had walked up and placed the gaping man in handcuffs. "Take him for trial."

"Yes sir."

Saudia had not been sure that was the best way to handle that situation, as the original plan was to arrest him quietly afterwards, along with several other similar figures, but she had to admit it wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying. It at least gave a good illustration of what was no longer allowed.

There were a few more people who weren't nearly as combative or dramatic, and those were finished in good time. The next person was one of some controversy. Razeen el-Mustafa, the Grand Imam of what was left of the Islamic faith. He didn't speak for all sects, but was the only representative of the religion here as the others were too scattered to form large or cohesive groups. He wore the robes and had a thick greying beard with a turban on his head.

"I will begin by extending my thanks to the Chancellor and Chief Stein," he began. "I will not take a significant amount of time, nor will I subject you to more interrogative questions."

Saudia did personally wonder how this was going to go. She wasn't expecting anything too dramatic, as Islam in particular was still viewed with negativity in much of the world. Though she wasn't expecting much praise either. He likely didn't want to rock the boat.

"We are a shadow of what we once were," he began. "And there were two responses to the War on Terror for us. Blame or reflection. We could blame others, blame them for the desecration of our Prophet and annihilation of his Holy City. We could blame the soldiers who came and killed our people in the night and crucified them as a warning. We could blame Allah himself for bringing this upon his people."

He paused. "Or we could reflect on why it had happened. We could consider the possibility that perhaps – we were wrong in our beliefs. I will admit that when the Caliphate rose, I was a proud supporter. Yet when the atrocities began, there were those who realized that this was not what Allah had taught. We left and tried to show our brothers and sisters that what they were doing was not righteous, but damning."

He shook his head. "But too many did not listen, and it forced me to ask why so many of us were drawn to that path. The truth is that our destruction was brought about by ourselves, not the West, not even the Commander. We taught and accepted what we preached without thinking about the context of what it could lead to." He allowed a contemplative pause.

"I do not believe it was right that our beliefs were made illegal, and us marked and watched," he finally said. "But I cannot deny the justification for it. Many did not believe in second chances for us, but to my surprise I received a message from ADVENT that said exactly that. There are strings attached, but in light of the past, can any of us say they are unjustified?"

The Grand Imam looked around the crowd. "If there is one thing I want to impart, it is that change is not wrong. The world is changing; this is not the same place it was even a decade ago. Religion, not just Islam, has been rooted in the past for too long and it has never led to any long-term benefits. We shouldn't look solely on the laws and readings themselves to justify our beliefs, but the values and meanings behind them which transcend the pages."

He clasped his hands together. "I believe Chief Stein said it best here. We only have to fear ADVENT if we are afraid of what they would learn. And if you are afraid, perhaps what you believe is wrong." He bowed his head and stepped down, to a scattering of applause.

Saudia found it extremely ironic that a representative of Islam of all things had arguably been the most supportive. In any case, they were reaching the last of the representatives, and many of the questions now were somewhat repeating what had already been said. All things considered she felt that this had gone very well.

The only one left was Pope Marcellus, and she had felt he would be best to close things out, as he already enjoyed a good relationship with ADVENT and had been cooperative with the new regulations. He genuinely seemed to want to reform the Catholic Church into something better than it was. A religious figure she could actually respect.

Dressed in his white robes and cap, Marcellus began at the podium. "I've thought on what I would say once this was done. I expect I would not be incorrect in saying that this has been illuminating for many people, and it is especially warming to see so many people of different faiths come together in unity."

He raised a finger. "I have no questions for Chancellor Vyandar and Chief Stein. I have been aware of what they ask since the beginning and have cooperated with them when necessary. Rather, I would like to speak about what I've seen here. Fear and indignation were prominent, and not unjustified."

The Pope paused. "These restrictions and regulations are new and frightening for us. For some it might incite fears of persecution. Of silencing. Suppression of speech. The so-called "war on religion" has been used to describe this. And I can certainly not say that ADVENT has true freedom of religion."

He lowered the finger and looked around the room thoughtfully. "But there is no cause without reason, not here. We must all ask ourselves just why ADVENT felt such actions needed to be taken. It goes beyond just religious extremism, because if that were the case, only the troublesome ones would be removed."

"This, my friends, is the consequence of abusing the privilege we enjoyed for so long," he said, clasping his hands. "Instead of using our influence and numbers to improve the lives of people around the world and spread the word of God, we've used it to enrich ourselves, spread hatred against others, abuse the power of government for ourselves and not the people, and all the time believing we were better than everyone because of our belief."

He shook his head. "All of us are sinners, and many of us forget the simple teachings of the Word. Even ones such as 'Love Thy Neighbor' are ignored when convenient. Is it any wonder that this would foster resentment and rejection from those who are not blinded by their own false perception? The Grand Imam said what I feel now. This was brought upon ourselves."

Marcellus swept a hand over the crowd. "Ask yourselves if what you face now would even be considered if we truly taught and followed our beliefs, and gave more than lip service. We are, as was stated, too stuck in the past. We have rejected knowledge that we feel is against God, yet never considered if the source was right all along."

He suddenly smiled. "Nowhere do the scriptures speak of aliens. If such an important part of this universe can simply be forgotten, then we must ask ourselves just what we do not know. Too often we pretend to have answers when there are none. We lie and speak in riddles when we could simply say 'we do not know'. And that is the honest truth. That is why we have faith in something we cannot see, and every night wonder why he allows this to happen."

He looked back to the duo opposite him. "I believe that we are beginning to realize how little we know about God, we who are fools to even begin to think we can understand him. We must look to the future now, and treat this as an opportunity, not a sentence. A fresh start. Actions speak louder than words, and today I will take the first steps in addressing an issue more prominent than what this gathering has met for."

Saudia was curious where he was going with this. "The aliens threatens our species, not just ADVENT. We have all seen their brutality and hatred towards us, and a defeat would ensure that those that live are enslaved or killed. As such we are obligated to defend ourselves, and there can be no higher justification for war against the godless creatures descending on us from the heavens."

Saudia leaned forward. Was he actually going to do what she thought?

The Pope's expression took one of determination. "This is one conflict we will not flee from. By the authority invested in me by God Almighty and the Vatican, I declare the Tenth Crusade against the Ethereal Collective to purge our world of the alien threat and beyond it. Words are no longer enough, and I call upon all who are able to assist ADVENT in bringing this goal to fruition."

Stein, for once, looked surprised, and the entire room burst into chaos as the Pope quietly stepped down. Newscasters were speaking frantically into their microphones and debate raged all around. For her part, Saudia had not expected that. The declaration of a Crusade now had not been something she'd considered.

Yet if there was ever a time for it, it would be now.

"Full of surprises, isn't he," Stein commented to her. "I like this guy."

"Agreed," Saudia nodded. "All things considered, I think this little event went very well."

"A crusade declared, China likely mad, and I got to arrest someone," Stein chuckled. "A good day all around."