Paradise

ADVENT Headquarters – Switzerland

1/9/2017 – 8:11 A.M.

Saudia felt numb as she looked at the plethora of pictures and reports from the massacre. The calm of ADVENT had been shattered in one of the most horrific displays she had ever borne witness to in her life. She had certainly been party to some distasteful events, and the Commander was no stranger to the effectiveness of brutality.

But it was nothing compared to this.

"How many?" She asked quietly.

Kyong, Stein, and Elizabeth were in front of her, all in their own stages of coping. Kyong was teetering on the edge of composed and broken; he was a civilian with no experience in dealing with traumatic events. But he needed to know the situation to coordinate ADVENT's message. And there was no better way than to have him see what had happened.

Stein was clearly furious, but composed. Saudia supposed her long law career had allowed her to build a tolerance to shocking imagery, especially to do with children. Her first act had been to lock down the entire city, with over five thousand Peacekeepers being moved to ensure that everything was accounted for. All aliens in ADVENT were currently being subjected to Deacon and Inquisitor interrogation.

Objectively, Saudia suspected that the defectors had nothing to do with this, but there was someone that needed to be blamed, and the first thing people would suspect was not just aliens, but the aliens ADVENT had been moving to integrate. Getting them out of the way immediately would both buy time from a PR perspective and find out any perpetrators if they did exist within the ranks.

Elizabeth was impassive, but Saudia knew she was taking this as a message. And she was shaken. Having children herself, she knew they were targets for anyone who wanted to get to her. The fact that this had happened with no alarms or failsafes being tripped meant that the aliens could very well get into anywhere, anytime.

It felt both morbid and in bad taste that Saudia wondered if they should be thankful they had only targeted civilians. It could have very easily been any one of them.

"Numbers are still being counted," Stein answered, handing her the tablet she'd been holding. "Over six thousand so far. Three locations, all packed with civilians from the south of Korea." She flipped though some of the photographs. "Killings are indiscriminate. Men, women, children, no obvious preference or goal. Causes of death range from apparent suicide to being bludgeoned with a couch."

"Disagree," Elizabeth said flatly, setting her own tablet down. "I've run the lists. The vast majority of people who were in the attacked buildings were the families or relatives of currently serving soldiers. This wasn't a random attack."

"God damn it," Kyong muttered. "When they learn they died this way…"

"We're going to need a lot of counselors to keep them from killing themselves," Saudia finished grimly. "Or aliens. As far as telling them…that I will leave to Laura. They'll have to be told but…there really isn't a good way to share the news."

"I'm also going to add that there definitely seemed to be different teams leading each of the attacks," Stein continued. "The wounds seemed tailored to the location. In one the main cause of death was precise stabbings, dismemberments, and quite frankly, clean kills. Another one had a mixture of deaths that seemed to be caused via psionics, and multiple self-inflicted casualties. The final one was a mixture of firearm deaths, melee combat, and everything in between."

"So whatever did this used small or single teams," Saudia grunted. "And were also highly skilled."

"Definitely couldn't have been alone," Stein shook her head. "They would have needed to neutralize security, alarms, and everything else. All footage was wiped and the drives just gone. This wasn't done by teams of one."

"Three teams," Elizabeth muttered coldly. "With three distinct methods of killing. Gee, I wonder who that fucking reminds me of."

"Those Chosen?" Saudia recalled. "Even they couldn't pull this off on their own. And we already know it was the aliens."

"I'm aware," Elizabeth said. "I'm just planning how best to torture them when I'm done extracting what I need."

"I'm also afraid the deaths are just part of the story," Stein sighed, pursing her lips. "There are a good three thousand unaccounted for. They're just gone. No trace."

"This reminds me of the old abductions before the invasion," Elizabeth said. "Only back then the aliens were more subtle and just kidnapped everyone."

That was something she was partially confused by. "They wanted to send a message, but also acquire more…prisoners. Doing both seems…odd. They could achieve more by focusing on one or the other. Was there anything special about the missing persons?"

"Couldn't find anything," Elizabeth shook her head. "This had absolutely nothing to do with getting more prisoners, or let's be real, test subjects, and everything to do with sending a message. They took just enough that the vast majority are corpses, and they'll be considered the lucky ones because the few who are now captives of the aliens are likely being eviscerated."

Saudia grimaced. "Unfortunately accurate."

"I don't get this," Elizabeth muttered. "It makes no sense. The aliens gain nothing from this. Not to mention this seems extremely out of character for the Battlemaster. Especially since his dossier explicitly states he doesn't kill kids."

"Do you really think this would happen without his approval?" Saudia asked. "Something like this?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps he was overruled."

"That does not matter," Stain growled. "This came at the hands of aliens. There needs to be retribution. Justice for those who were slaughtered."

"That will be demanded," Kyong agreed. "And I cannot blame them. This can't go unpunished."

"How?" Saudia sighed. "We're stuck on Earth, our military is out of position for a lighting strike, and places to attack are limited. The only option is to crack down on alien defectors, and I won't do that without evidence, no matter how much people want that."

"We have POWs," Stein said. "Not defectors. Ones we captured. Interrogate them, sentence them, and execute them. Skin or chop them into pieces and send them to alien strongholds, along with videos of their torture. Or give them to some of the soldiers whose families were murdered. Cull the aliens who are useless to us, and show the aliens there are consequences to this kind of attack."

"I'd stop short of skinning them," Elizabeth cautioned. "ADVENT is not like that. But executing them and sending their bodies to the aliens isn't a bad response. She's right that they don't provide us with anything useful aside from potential bartering chips."

"Bartering chips for what?" Stein snorted. "The aliens aren't giving any of our people back. You're deluded to think otherwise. And we must also send a message. Execution is tame compared to what they deserve."

"We're not going to kill our POWs," Saudia shook her head. "Yet. That will be used as propaganda against us, and while I'm sure it would be cathartic…these aliens are almost certainly not behind it, not to mention it doesn't do much aside from sate public bloodlust."

"So what do you propose?" Stein asked.

"The aliens have cities they control," Saudia stated. "I want Sacramento leveled. Missile strikes, bomber runs, whatever it takes to level it. One attack, then we relent before an escalation. I do not believe that the Collective will retaliate, not for this. I will order Laura to have this executed by the end of today."

"Acceptable," Stein nodded. "This calls for a response. This will be stronger than simply killing captured aliens."

"Indeed," Kyong nodded. "Let them know the payment for this atrocity."

"Another thing," Saudia said. "I want every single image and report sent to every government around the world. Let them see how their neutrality holds in the face of that. I also want the less…gruesome images on the news. I want it on every screen and everyone to know this is what the aliens will do to us."

Elizabeth gave a single nod. "Ones with children included?"

"Yes."

"What else?" Kyong asked.

"A special letter drafted to the nations of the so-called Sovereign African States," Saudia said. "As well as the rest of the continent. They are to turn over all former ADVENT traitors within one month or ADVENT will annex their countries. All ADVENT defectors and traitors are now enemies of the state, and will be captured, tried, and executed."

"Gladly," Kyong said. "I'm surprised you let them survive this long."

"There were more important matters," Saudia said humorlessly, even as the corners of her lips turned up. "But I am done tolerating them. Betos will be the last executed. I want her to watch all those who followed killed in front of her."

Kyong frowned. "Would that be legal?"

"I wouldn't worry," Stein added with her own humorless smile. "Her punishment can be specifically worded to…include something akin to this. Completely legal."

"Excellent."

"In the meantime, I will address the public," Saudia rubbed her forehead to clear her thoughts. "It's not going to be pleasant."

"Has XCOM said anything?" Elizabeth asked.

"Not yet," Saudia answered, also wondering what the situation there was. "But knowing the Commander, anything we're going to do will pale in comparison to what he has planned."

Situation Room, the Praesidium – Classified Location

1/9/2017 – 9:22 A.M.

Confusion and fury.

That was what the Commander was feeling at this very moment. This made no sense, but at the same time, what better way to send a message? In all honesty, it was justified in a way if he thought about it. First Aegis, now Caelior, there was room for a response. But a response like this? Not even against ADVENT proper?

He supposed it didn't matter the reason or justification behind it.

Only the response mattered.

"What are we going to do about this?" Creed finally asked, saying what they all were thinking.

"I have some ideas," the Commander sharply turned back to the holotable. "Chronicler, can you transport a small team to Vitakar?"

"Possibly," the older man nodded, not wearing his armor at this point. "What are you thinking?"

"A simple solution," the Commander said neutrally. "We wipe out the Aui'Vitakar. We have salted nukes. Providing them to the Nulorian would provide cover. They would of course wonder, but it would just be an interesting coincidence."

"I'm not sure that is…the best response," Shen said slowly. "While there needs to be retribution, there may be a more effective way of carrying it out aside from killing innocent aliens-"

"They are part of the Ethereal Collective," the Commander growled. "Ignorance is no longer an excuse. They are complicit and will be treated as such. The Sectoids and Andromedons won't succumb to terror or loss easily, but the Vitakara will be shaken and broken from so many dead. They would serve as an effective response to the Imperator."

"Or it will just make them hate us," Shen countered. "As horrible as it is, I don't think anyone on Vitakar actually sanctioned this. Do you think they actually know the reason, or will they see it as just an attack with no justification?"

"I agree with Shen," Aegis finally said. "The Battlemaster would never have sanctioned this attack. He would never sanction the assassination and abduction of children. Not when he's in charge."

"Do you really believe he didn't know?" Vahlen demanded. "Something like this?"

"He would never approve it," Aegis repeated. "Even if it came from the Imperator. I do not believe this is as clear as it seems."

"That doesn't matter," the Commander pointed out. "Even if he refused to carry out the order, there is nothing stopping the Imperator from taking command himself. This is clearly orchestrated by the Collective, like it or not. And given how it was carried out, the Overmind or Imperator had to be involved since no one noticed it."

"But what do they gain from this?" Aegis demanded, stepping forward. "There was no reason to carry this out, and neither the Imperator nor Battlemaster operate through terror. All it does is further unite your species and drive up anti-alien sentiment. The Imperator is not a fool, I cannot believe he'd sanction this."

"Let us look at the facts," Zhang interrupted, setting his tablet down. "Based on the autopsies and reports from both the Peacekeepers and ADVENT Intelligence, there were three separate attacks, and in each location the causes of death varied. Which so happens to match up with the Chosen. The majority of civilians were killed, many of whom were related to soldiers in ADVENT, and several thousand were abducted. The goal of this attack was terror, and I see two probable suspects behind this."

"Isomnum and the Creator," the Commander finished, frowning. "This does fit Isomnum, but I don't see why he would risk reprisal from the Battlemaster or Imperator in carrying this out."

"What about the Creator?" Jackson asked.

"The Creator is of deteriorating intelligence and growing sadism," Aegis said. "But she is no fool, and I doubt she even cares about Earth. She is too focused on her own work, and I suspect orchestrating such an operation would be outside her interests. Her Chosen clearly work with the Collective upon request. Isomnum could have requested them."

"I doubt it's the Creator too," the Commander said, shaking his head. "She's a scientist, not a schemer or tactician. Even if she wanted test subjects, so do Isomnum, Revelean, and Fectorian, and I doubt the latter two would follow this route either."

"As twisted as the Creator is," Aegis agreed. "This is not her. But this does fit Isomnum."

"Is he that skilled to pull this off at three separate locations?" Creed asked. "And have the manpower too?"

"Absolutely," Aegis sighed. "Remember, he was an Overmind. This would not be a challenge for him."

Creed rubbed his forehead. "Wonderful."

"The problem is we don't know," the Commander muttered. "Isomnum is an easy scapegoat, but that might be intentional. Easy to pin the blame on rogue operators acting on the orders of ones above them. Trust me, I ran these kind of operations for the US for years. They work."

"This is where it would help having spies in the aliens," Zhang noted. "With inside information we would be able to determine the general mood. Right now we have nothing but speculation."

"Aegis, how likely is it that the Battlemaster would know about this?" The Commander asked. "Would he attempt to deny it if he wasn't behind it?"

"In a situation like this, yes," Aegis said. "I doubt he knew about it, and he is likely furious. If he did not know…we will know shortly."

"I want to return to your earlier plan for Vitakar," Shen said. "While at this point I feel indiscriminate attacks would do more harm than good, you are right in that they are a more empathetic species. This would likely horrify them, especially if they were associated with it. Instead of bombing them, why not show them what is happening?"

"It would force the Zararch to crack down," Zhang said slowly. "But we have psions. They do not. And I don't think anyone would care if a few were killed in the process."

The Commander considered for a moment. "Fine. We hold off on bombs for now. Let's see if the Collective responds. If it appears the Battlemaster was not aware of it, or behind it, we go forward with your idea, Shen."

"And anything else?" Jackson asked.

"Not immediately," the Commander said. "But if it isn't the Battlemaster, it's almost assuredly Isomnum. And when we capture him, he is going to wish he was dead."

Tactical Briefing Room, Solar System Command Center – Mars Collective Base

1/9/2017 – 10:02 A.M.

"I didn't order this," Ravarian said, swallowing as the Battlemaster approached him, his sword drawn. "This would never be launched without your approval-"

"Then who did?"

"No one here," Ravarian said quickly. "Trust me, I've interrogated anyone who could have possibly organized it, and even then, none of them could launch it without my approval. You can check the logs and correspondences. The Zararch didn't do this, and more importantly, there is no reason to do this. What exactly do we gain here?"

"The Zar'Chon is innocent here, Battlemaster," Quisilia stepped out of thin air in front of him. "As is the Zararch. And from what I can tell, anyone else who could authorize something like this."

The Battlemaster stopped, and just glared at Quisilia. "So this just happened out of nowhere? It's all deception?"

"That…" Ravarian coughed as he continued with a theory that had been growing. "May be the case. The Collective clearly did not cause this, but the Commander has performed multiple false flag operations before. The United Nations, the Council. Chancellor Vyandar was also behind the collapse of Brazil, and the Middle East incident. The Commander in particular understands the power of brutality. It isn't out of the question that this is a propaganda attempt to drive up support for ADVENT."

"Not a bad theory," Yang Shuren, the Human that the Battlemaster was now allowing around him for whatever reason, spoke up. He was unsure why the Battlemaster was letting her participate, but he was not stupid enough to ask questions like that now. "But this doesn't fit the Commander. Not really. He doesn't just do stuff like this without reason. Let's be honest – ADVENT isn't exactly hurting for support right now. They're enjoying what they have now. Why would they need more? Everyone on Earth already thinks you're the enemy to some degree. This has too much of a chance of backfiring to be the Commander, and not solid enough reasons."

"Your expert analysis is appreciated, Miss Shuren," Ravarian said keeping his sarcasm down. "And I would contest that by saying that the issue ADVENT faces is that we are not enough of a threat yet. There are still many countries who don't wish to join, including many European, African, and South American nations. An attack like this drives up fears, and encourages unity."

"Then why not do this in one of those countries?" Yang asked. "If that was the goal, would it not be more effective if it wasn't in ADVENT?"

"Perhaps," Ravarian conceded. "But you can't disagree that it is easier to set up in ADVENT."

"Yes, if you're cheap," Yang rolled her eyes. "Or lazy. Are those words you ascribe to ADVENT?" One of the swords floated to her hands. "Be honest. Name one nation that ADVENT wouldn't be able to do this to? Who could possibly stop an operation like this enhanced with psions?"

"The Humans have used this already as an excuse to escalate the fight again," Ravarian pointed out. "The Sacramento base is gone. Completely. They seem to think that we won't retaliate for this, and at this point, it appears to be accurate. Not responding to such an attack sets a disturbing precedent. We cannot just allow our bases to be destroyed with no response."

"This was not ADVENT," the Battlemaster spoke. "The targets were specific. Families of soldiers. There are too many downsides to their intentional deaths to be worth it. There were easier targets. I agree with Yang. Neither ADVENT nor XCOM had reason to do this. The military strike is a reflex. There will be no response from us."

Ravarian sighed. "Fine, then who was it? It clearly wasn't us."

"I don't know," the Battlemaster admitted slowly. "But I am going to do two things. Prepare to broadcast a statement to Earth. They will not believe us, but I will deny it all the same, and I suspect Aegis will come to the same conclusion. Then I will find who is behind this, execute them, and send their body to the Humans with the extracted confession. This will not be tolerated."

"Understood," Ravarian said. That was as solid a plan as he could think of. He wasn't convinced this wasn't a false flag attack, but did have to admit the reasons ADVENT or XCOM would perform it were questionable at best.

But if it wasn't them, then it was someone who was confident enough not to fear the retribution the Collective would bring. The Battlemaster rarely got angry, but attacking children and the families of soldiers was a line he wouldn't intentionally cross. Ravarian almost felt bad for anyone the Battlemaster killed in the investigation.

But a larger part hoped that he would take his time killing them.

It would be deserved.

Unknown Location – Argentina

1/9/2017 – 9:57 A.M.

And work had been going so well. Volk had happily been planning the next three months of operations, the Argentinian government was slowly coming around to the idea thanks to a combination of smooth talking, tech agreements, and preliminary diplomacy, and the base was finally fully complete and functional.

It was exceptionally nice, air conditioned, with full research and fabrication labs, and crystal clear TV stations.

Volk had a wide smile on his face, though on the inside was seething. Asaru was standing in front of him in the brightly-lit room, arms crossed and for once looking serious. Volk was almost sure Elena was going to start shooting her if what she said wasn't good enough. He'd barely stopped her from murdering one of Asaru's other soldiers.

Not that he could especially blame her right now.

"Now, do you remember our agreement?" He asked mildly, appraising the plasma pistol in his hand. "If I recall, I believe it had some specific stipulations."

"What happened in Seoul was not us," Asaru said firmly. "We're…not sure what is going on, but this was not sanctioned by the Ethereal Collective."

"Liar!" Elena screamed as she fired her rifle at Asaru, unloading shot after shot until it was empty. All the projectiles passed directly through her, of course, but it managed to calm Elena down and he tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. "Evidence released to the public," she said in a rush. "Images, autopsies, clear evidence of alien weapons, psionics, and abductions. Too coordinated to be independent. Level of psionic and technological power extremely high."

"Evidence which ADVENT is releasing," Asaru pointed out. "As…distasteful as it may be…it is entirely possible they are behind this attack. To further villainize us in the eyes of the public and any allies. A clever tactic-"

"Shut up," Volk growled, raising a hand. "I'm not a floundering pawn like you're used to, most likely. Please, give me one reason why ADVENT would do this? And more importantly, why they need to do it?"

"Increase public-"

"Public support for ADVENT at record highs," Elena interrupted, glaring at Asaru. "Alliances with China and England established. Referendum for the UK imminent. Further fracturing of European Union. Anti-ADVENT sentiment non-existent. Public opinion increase unneeded and out of character."

"But do you know that for sure?" Asaru asked. "I promise it wasn't us."

"No, but I'm inclined to believe her more than you right now," Volk pursed his lips. "It doesn't make sense for anyone to be behind it. But someone is, and I don't think it's ADVENT for once. But I also doubt you knew about it either. This," he gestured aimlessly. "Is plausible deniability. Terrorism from another group. Since there are no actual dissidents in the Collective that I am aware of, I suspect this is a group acting on the orders of someone else. Probably an Ethereal."

"I can assure you the Imperator would not sanction this," Asaru said. "Nor would any other Ethereal…" she trailed off suddenly, her own lips pursing. "Although…perhaps there is one. Only one would dare consider such an idea, and then carry it out."

"Who?"

"An Ethereal named Isomnum," she said slowly, grimacing. "A highly distasteful individual obsessed with the usage and research of fear. Highly isolationist, highly dangerous. More powerful than I am. He was the one who extracted the Battlemaster in D.C."

Volk remembered the aftermath of it. At the time he'd gotten a bad feeling about the Ethereal, but anyone who had a death mask for a helmet elicited that reaction. But it sounded like this Isomnum was disliked even among the Ethereals. "Would he actually go against the Imperator?"

"I would not have assumed so," Asaru said. "But the only ones who might would be him, and perhaps the Battlemaster. And over this the Battlemaster is certainly not the culprit. Yet even for Isomnum this is irregular. I will need to speak to the Imperator about this. There will be repercussions for this, I assure you."

"There better be," Volk said. "And I want proof."

"You will have it." Asaru said, before she vanished.

Volk sighed, but did feel like Asaru was going to get some answers. Much as everyone would like to scapegoat the aliens, this was the act of an idiot. And while the Collective and ADVENT made questionable decisions, he didn't think the leadership consisted of morons. If he didn't know better, he'd think this was an odd attempt to worsen Human-alien relations, but like Elena had said earlier, that wasn't really necessary.

"I want to leave here," Elena said, looking up to him. "It feels unsafe right now. Aliens watching."

She meant the base. Elena didn't like staying in it for long periods of time. Or whenever she was anxious. He could see how she might feel trapped in here, especially with the amount of aliens around, and given the current situation, he couldn't blame her. "Alright, let's get out of here," he said quietly, putting an arm around her and pulling her close. "We can do whatever you want today."

The Throne Room of the Imperator – The Temple Ship of the Imperator of the Ethereal Collective

1/9/2017 – 10:09 A.M.

"I am under the assumption," Patricia said slowly. "That you didn't order this."

The Imperator was…displeased to say the least, both in his aura and in his voice. Though not at her. "No. This did not happen at my command. I have little need for such unnecessary measures. A pointless waste of life and breeding of xenophobia."

"Thought so." Patricia hadn't really believed the Imperator would do it. Not only was it an idiotic idea to begin with, it didn't give them any advantage, and looked very bad if you were trying to get someone on your side. "So who did?"

"It was not ADVENT," the Imperator said. "I am certain of it, though cannot be completely sure since the Manchurian Restraints have been placed on…many high-ranking ADVENT personnel. I would prefer not to reveal my presence to them immediately. But I have seen enough to convince me they were not behind it."

"And XCOM?"

"Blocked entirely," the Imperator stated as he strode forward. "Which is the consequence of Aegis, or more worryingly, the Sovereign on Earth. I suspected it was only a matter of time before it began reaching out. XCOM is an obvious choice, and I doubt it took much to convince him it would be an…ally against me."

Patricia scowled. "Let's hope not. The Commander is willing to do anything to defeat the Collective, even if it means allying with something like that. And saying the right things to the Commander isn't difficult. Assuming it didn't take control altogether. Not even Aegis could stop a Sovereign, correct?"

"No." The Imperator said flatly. "Nor any other psion in XCOM. I suppose it is possible this was the work of XCOM, but I am skeptical."

"The Commander wouldn't do this, not of his own free will," Patricia shook her head. "He would only do it if it served a greater purpose and was necessary. Forming ADVENT justified such actions. There is nothing here which justifies this. He didn't need to make people angrier at the Collective."

"No, and even a Sovereign One wouldn't go to the trouble of something so…pointless," the Imperator mused. "There are possible culprits; few would dare to carry something like this out. This fits Isomnum's work, yet I am not convinced even he would do it. The alternative is exceptionally unthinkable though."

"Which is?" Patricia asked.

"That this was carried out at the command of the Creator," the Imperator said. "Or more accurately the Bringer. She has been corrupted to a point where her loyalty is to it, not me. A planned and acceptable consequence, but even still she understands the…consequences of actions like these. They are of rebellion. The Bringer would be playing with fire. I do not toy with such creatures and he knows it."

Patricia furrowed her eyebrows as she looked outside the windows to the void of space. "How much have you spoken to this Bringer?"

"To the Bringer himself? Only twice," the Imperator said. "His subordinates and the Creator relay anything else essential. But Mosrimor has been useful in this regard. I know enough about him to establish boundaries and safeguards. To act in such a manner against me is…ill-advised. Which makes me question his involvement. He knows the consequences."

"It couldn't hurt to speak to both of them," Patricia suggested. "You would find an answer one way or another."

"What will be difficult is the Battlemaster," the Imperator said. "He will want to punish the culprits. It is not time to sacrifice Isomnum yet, nor will he succeed in killing the Bringer, nor do I want him to yet. Denying him justice will not be taken well."

"He doesn't know the truth," Patricia realized. "About the Sovereign Ones."

"No," the Imperator said. "He will not take the existence of the Bringer…well. And he would be unlikely to take the truth as you or I would. He sees no enemy greater than the Synthesized, and will do whatever it takes to defeat them. He does not care about greater ramifications of the Sovereign Ones. Giving him Isomnum and allowing some means of taking his vengeance may alleviate his wrath."

"And if it is the Bringer?"

The Imperator was silent for a few moments. "Then he must be distracted. The Creator's Blacksite of Paradise should not be investigated by him. He would not approve of what is taking place."

Patricia wondered just how bad it could be. The more she heard about the Bringer, the more she wondered just what was going on there. If it was bad enough where the Imperator worried about the Battlemaster finding out, it must be far worse than the Sectoid Hives. Which was something she was struggling to really comprehend.

"Nebulan suspects Isomnum," the Imperator said. "What gives me pause is the apparent usage of the Chosen. They must be interrogated as well. Before the Battlemaster does. I will have Quisilia distract him until this is determined. You will come with me here. Your species has suffered because of the fool who performed this, and you will determine their fate."

"Me?" Patricia raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the only Human here."

"No," the Imperator agreed, gesturing for her to follow. "But you are the most important. Come with me, Patricia. There is a dissident to find."

Busan – South Korea

1/9/2017 – 12:11 P.M.

Duri wished something would happen. Something to wake him up from the nightmare he was in right now. This had to be some kind of twisted figment of his imagination; everything seemed brighter than it should be, there was a ringing numbness in the air and everything around him barely registered.

It had been bad enough waking up to the news of the attack. The images they'd shown were horrifying. They'd all watched in stunned silence until Duri realized that was where his family was.

The news had been given to him shortly after.

I'm afraid that I have to report that your family is among those killed, Officer. I'm sorry.

The man had said some other words, but he hadn't registered them.

Your family is dead.

Dead.

His wife.

His girls.

Dead.

Not because the city had come under siege. Not as a casualty of war. Just victims of a senseless slaughter. Hundreds of miles away.

Dead.

They were dead because of him. Because he didn't want them going north. Because he thought they'd be safe away from the front lines. A cruel irony, if they'd done literally anything different they would still be alive. But he'd insisted because he'd been sure of their safety.

Dead.

He'd numbly asked for pictures. Proof. They'd refused. Not until you speak to someone. You can't handle it right now. Not until you're calmer. Perhaps they were right. Any other time he would have punched them. But somehow his military discipline won out, and he just stared blankly at them before wandering out.

They yelled something after him. He didn't hear it.

Dead.

He wandered aimlessly, picking up more parts of the story by accident. It wasn't just his family that was dead. It was others. Then it came out that some were abducted, not dead. Then that the attacks had been deliberately targeted at families of soldiers.

Dead because of him.

He was shocked he hadn't begun crying yet. Instead he was just numb. Still clinging onto some fragment that none of this was real. He'd wake up, call his family, and tell them to get as far away as possible. Or hell, bring them down to him. Here he could protect them. That was all he wanted to do. Protect them.

What kind of father and husband would he be if he couldn't do that?

A failed one.

It was a bright day outside, a sunny one. Too bright. Too pleasant. There was even a breeze. Would the weather be so nice if this was real? Wouldn't he be able to feel everything a little more crisply? Just a little bit?

"Duri!" He barely registered a shout, not looking away as he looked onto the sea in front of him. Yes, very bright and blue. It was never that color.

"Duri!" Beatriz scrambled up, her face immediately morphing to relief. "Thank god you're fine. We thought….well…" she swallowed. "Did you find out…"

"Dead." He said numbly, not looking at her. "They won't show me the bodies. They just said they're dead."

"Fuck," she breathed. "I'm so sorry." Her voice turned concerned. "You're holding your pistol."

"This?" He looked down at it in his hand. He'd forgotten it was still drawn. "Doesn't work." He pointed over the sea and pulled the trigger. Nothing. "I tried twice. Don't know why I didn't load it," he shrugged. "Maybe I would wake up."

Beatriz took a few deep breaths. "Duri…you should come back with me. We can talk…you shouldn't deal with this by yourself. It isn't a good idea."

"Talk about what?" He shrugged. "They were there because of me. And now they're dead. No mystery. They're not coming back."

"Duri, this is not your fault," Beatriz insisted, grabbing his arm. "You sent them there to protect them. You didn't kill them, the aliens did. Not you."

He was silent for a minute. "I haven't been listening. Do they know for sure it was the aliens?"

"Chancellor Vyandar confirmed it," Beatriz said. "Of course the Battlemaster has said they had nothing to do with this."

"Liar," he agreed, an alternate plan forming in his mind. "He should at least admit to what he did. Lying is insulting. Where are the aliens on base?"

"Don't know," Beatriz said. "ADVENT said they were going to question the ones in custody to see if they knew anything else…"

"It's funny," he said slowly. "I was just wondering if the aliens weren't all bad." He looked down at his empty pistol. "Guess I was wrong. But my family needs to be avenged one way or another. I shouldn't die until then." He reached in his pouched and pulled out a clip and slid it into his pistol.

Beatriz looked alarmed. "Duri, this is a bad idea. You'll be killed or court-marshalled. Don't do anything stupid."

"It doesn't matter," he said numbly, turned to face her wearily. "I don't have a reason to live anyway. The only ones I wanted to protect are dead. ADVENT may kill or arrest me, but I don't care now."

"Just talk to someone first!" She pleaded. "You can't ruin yourself over this."

"Call someone to stop me if you want," he shook his head and began to walk. "I don't need someone to talk to right now. I'm sorry."

She looked at him helplessly, but didn't say anything. "This is something I have to do," he said as a farewell. "I hope you never have to understand why."

He left her alone, as he walked towards where the aliens were being kept.

All he needed was three. One for each of them. Then ADVENT could do whatever they wanted to him.

Chambers of the Battlemaster – Mars Collective Base

1/9/2017 – 4:11 P.M.

It was ironic that for the first time he and ADVENT were on the same side. The Battlemaster suspected that there was little that he and ADVENT leadership would agree on, but there were certain lines that would not be crossed on either side. Targeting civilians was something done only as a consequence of other actions, and even then when there was a clear goal to it.

Very rarely had it seemed to have an effect outside of making enemies. Civilians died in war, but there were few instances where deliberate targeting was justified.

Attacking families of soldiers, regardless of side, was one of the most dishonorable actions one could take. Enemies were afforded a certain level of respect. This respect was extended to families. They were not exempt from the dice roll of war, but to deliberately target them simply because of association with an enemy was the action of a coward.

This was why he despised intelligence work, where this line of thinking was mild compared to what spies considered. It had its place, but it was a station that he would never fully endorse or support.

Dead children were also casualties in war. Accidentally it was always unfortunate. But to deliberately target them was a level beyond evil. Humans already had subpar treatment for many children, and killing the ones who actually had parents was made somehow worse. He couldn't fathom the mind of someone who would deem this acceptable, among any species.

Although it made him realize that the Collective had been complicit in this kind of activity for some time, he just hadn't wanted to realize it. Who knew how many children had been sent to Revelean, Fectorian, and the Creator. Perhaps this excuse could be distraction, but it would be a lie. He had just not considered it relevant until now.

That would change soon. And if they took issue with it, they could use clones.

"What are you thinking?"

Yang had been somewhat talkative as they'd worked, each of them trying to get a feel for each other. He was thankful she wasn't put off by his stature, but it was…different…attempting to talk to someone so openly. He had made an attempt to articulate his thoughts, but it was usually without preparation.

"Considering," he said. "The Collective has been complicit in distasteful behavior for some time. I had not confronted it until now. It is…disquieting to realize it after all this time."

She cocked her head. "Like what?" She was having her new and improved weapons float by her sides, a constant practice the Battlemaster respected.

"Children," he mused. "Our treatment of them. Human ones at least. Many have been killed by us before the deaths today. That will need to be changed."

"Ah, right," she nodded. "Can't say I'm disappointed to hear that. Glad that you aren't the kid-killing type."

"I would purge the genome of any who are," the Battlemaster muttered. "Degenerates."

"You're bothered by this," she noted after a few minutes. "Almost as much as ADVENT. More than I expected, honestly."

"Are you not?"

"Of course I am," she scowled. "ADVENT is the enemy, not the people. But you're…" she gestured. "Well, an alien. And the one in charge."

He thought about how to articulate this to her. "During the days of the Empire…Children were rare. Only given or allowed to those who earned them. They were the ultimate dream, the progression of our species. There were none more valued or treasured than our children. Rarely were there more than one at a time."

He paused. "Humans were the first species I saw who were…ambivalent to children. They did not care about any other than their own offspring. What children do not starve are placed into buildings and sold by governments."

"You mean adopted?" Yang asked. "That…isn't slavery."

"Isn't it?" He asked. "You must pay the government for the privilege of giving a child a home. I performed my own research. Your institutions are corrupt and bloated, more concerned with money than children. Perhaps not permanent slavery, but they exist to make money. And those are the lucky ones."

He shook his head. "A species which does not care for children if they have the means to do so is flawed and failed. The Vitakara have orphans, but they are adopted by families within days. Humans are selfish and wouldn't think about other children unless they were directly affected."

Yang pursed her lips. "Can't say I disagree."

"So I am upset," the Battlemaster continued. "The children who died today were lucky. They had families and lives. They did not choose to participate in this conflict, and yet they died senselessly. Many have lost family members already, those who died in conflict. More will be rendered orphans by my hand. But those who die in battle made a choice to fight. But children have no choice. Especially not Human ones."

"I don't suppose you'll take over orphanages when you conquer Earth?" She asked with some hope.

"Perhaps. I cannot do worse than your species."

The room chimed as someone outside the door approached. The Battlemaster turned, wondering who it could be. "Open." The door slid open and the Hunter of all things walked inside. He was clad in his battle armor, minus the helmet, and surprisingly unarmed.

"Battlemaster! What a pleasant surprise." He caught a glimpse of Yang. "As well as whoever you are."

"This is not a good time," the Battlemaster warned. "State your reason for bothering me or leave."

"Don't rush me," the Hunter raised a hand, grinning under his hood. "After all, you want to know who could possibly be responsible for that terrible massacre-" The Hunter gasped as he was lifted into the air and pulled into one of the Battlemaster's waiting hand.

"What do you know?"

"First," the Hunter coughed. "I want to say that none of this was my idea and I was just following orders!" He hissed as the Battlemaster began applying pressure over his whole body. "Alright! Stop it! The Creator ordered the attack! We took part in it."

The Battlemaster threw him into a wall, fury building as the Hunter rose to his feet shakily. "The Creator?"

"Yes," the Hunter coughed. "Look, I knew it was a bad idea. But sorry, if I'd done anything I would be getting tortured for the next year. You're scary, but sorry, it's not much compared to going against the almighty bitch."

"What did you do?!"

"Got orders to work with a bunch of the Creator's people," he explained hurriedly. "Caretakers she calls them. Ghouls pretty much, but somehow psions. Teleporting and everything. My job, and that of the other Chosen, was to capture some people, and kill everyone else. We got in, then got out. The Caretakers took care of security and keeping everyone away."

"Why did they capture anyone?" Yang interjected. "Was there a reason, or was it random?"

"Don't know the criteria," the Hunter said. "But it was definitely not random. Trust me, I had the exact names of people who were being captured shared with me. The Creator knew everything about the people in those buildings. Somehow."

The Battlemaster was silent for a few moments. "What was her reason for this?"

"I have no fucking idea," the Hunter raised both of his hands in surrender. "Look, I have zero problem with killing those people, but I'm not an idiot and knew that would probably make you mad. Hence why I'm here and telling you so you don't eviscerate me and drown me in acid or something."

"How considerate," the Battlemaster growled, twisting his hand and the Hunter crumpled as his kneecap shattered. "Yet you still participated."

"Of course I did!" He yelled. "You have no idea what's going on with the Creator, do you? My choices were not follow her orders and face death at best, or go through with them then tell you later and hope you don't murder me anyway! I didn't have many great options here!"

"Let me be clear," the Battlemaster rumbled as he ground the leg of the Hunter further into mush and splinters. "If you are ever faced with a choice between me or the Creator, I am the one you go to. The Creator is not a threat to me. If you fear retribution, I can handle her."

The Hunter laughed. "No, you can't. I promise you can't. I'm probably going to die anyway just by telling you this, but at least you might kill the bitch for me."

"You will not die by her hand," the Battlemaster promised. "You overestimate her own power. She is a scientist at best, one twisted and deranged-"

"Word of warning," the Hunter interjected. "You better not underestimate her. Do you think I'd be this reluctant if she were a fucking scientist? There is something in Paradise. Something a lot more powerful than her, than me, and probably you."

The Battlemaster paused briefly. "Do you have proof the Creator was behind this?"

"Ah, yep," the Hunter grimaced as he pulled a datacube out of a pocket. "Recording of the whole incident, at least where I was. Audio and everything. Figured you'd want it."

"This will be useful," the Battlemaster said, telekinetically calling it to his hand. "Your contribution is noted."

"Another thing," the Hunter twisted his leg back into position. "I'm pretty sure the Creator got this brilliant plan from Isomnum. They've been talking a lot recently. I bet they wanted everyone to blame it on him. He wasn't behind it, but he gave her the idea, I'm pretty sure about it." He gave a grim smile. "But that's just my assumption, no evidence for that other than what I heard."

The Battlemaster felt the datacube in his hand. The situation was now extremely complicated. The worst case scenario he had anticipated was one Ethereal behind it. Two were worse, even if one had merely provided the idea. But he was an Ethereal of his word, and ultimately, it did not change much. Isomnum and the Creator needed to be dealt with.

He wouldn't kill them outright, but drag them before the Imperator. They could defend themselves before he executed them and sent their corpses to ADVENT. He wasn't surprised about Isomnum, but the Creator was unexpected. He had not thought she'd known much about the war to begin with, let alone try and influence it.

Neither of these Ethereals deserved to live. Their species was small, but only those who deserved life should keep it. Perhaps this would motivate the Imperator and Revelean to consider focusing on repopulation.

It sounded like there was much about the Creator he was uninformed of. Fortunately whatever she was doing would not last long.

He had targets now. Once he reviewed the evidence he would act. Justice and retribution would be swift and merciless. Ironically much like the operation that had started this. "Your assistance is appreciated," the Battlemaster told the Hunter as he telekinetically lifted him into the air. A few flashes of his sword later, and the Hunter was now limbless, as the Battlemaster tossed the torso a short distance away. "But you still murdered those people. That requires punishment. Be thankful it was not worse."

"I hate you so much," the Hunter spat as he hissed in pain. "Well, sorry!"

"Apology accepted," the Battlemaster said, sharply motioning for Yang to follow him. "You are not beholden to the Creator any longer. If such an event happens again, you will die. Is that understood?"

"Loud and clear!"

"Come, Yang," the Battlemaster said. "Isomnum has an explanation to provide for us."

Busan – South Korea

1/9/2017 – 3:30 P.M.

The Officer in charge was unreadable with the helmet on, but was thankfully the only one there. Duri had his off. He'd forgotten it to begin with, and he didn't really care enough to get it back. Not like he was trying to hide. This was a self-destructive plan, but the alternative was doing nothing.

And he just couldn't do that. Not now.

"Hold up," the Officer said, raising a hand. "We've got the area restricted."

"I know," Duri said. "I want to go in."

The Officer looked at him a few moments. "Why?"

Duri just pulled out a picture of himself and his family and handed it to the Officer. He didn't feel the need to say anything at that moment. Both of them knew what had happened, and now why he was here. "They warned me people like you might come," the Officer finally said. "Technically I shouldn't let you in at all."

Duri was just silent. The Officer extended a hand. "All weapons have to be confiscated," he paused. "However, there may be a pistol around the cells. But I wouldn't know that."

"Of course not."

He handed his pistol over, and began walking in as the Officer unlocked it. But he suddenly grabbed his arm. "I'd think carefully," the Officer warned. "In the event something happens I'll have to call for security. I won't be able to help you."

Duri gave an emotionless nod. "I understand. Thank you."

He stepped inside the holding area and walked towards where the cells were. Of course, calling them cells now was a bit generous, as they were essentially rooms with steel walls. There weren't locks on them anymore, they had actual beds, tables, and some small furniture. All of them were occupied, and all of them watched him in concern.

As they should.

The pistol wasn't in an obvious place, in one of the lockers, but he found it easily enough. He simply entered the nearest cell he could find. Five aliens resided in it, four Vitakarians and one Dath'Haram. All unarmed and slowly backing up as he entered the cell. They must have seen the deadness of his eyes because several of them became visibly worried.

He'd learned that Vitakarians began blinking rapidly when agitated or surprised. "Officer," one of them said, likely speaking for the group. "I know what happened. I'm sorry about it and it's terrible, but killing us isn't going to bring anyone back…" he trailed off as Duri raised the pistol.

"Their deaths were pointless and without reason," he said blankly. "Why should you be special? They died by the hand of your kind. Justice is needed."

The Vitakarian swallowed, but continued. "We didn't kill them. This isn't justice, Officer."

"Perhaps not," Duri agreed numbly, his hand staying firm. "But I don't care now. The three ones I loved most are dead. Three aliens will die now."

He suddenly felt something like a vice cover his entire body. "Officer," a female called out, and turning his head he saw another Officer with one of the Priests beside her, arm extended to him. "Put the weapon down. It won't end well for you."

Duri looked back and fired the pistol. There was only clicking and he looked at the weapon in disbelief, before letting out a broken chuckle. He tossed the useless weapon to the side, looking at the officer in defeat. "A trick."

"One for your own good," the Officer said, taking off her helmet, revealing a Korean woman with cropped black hair. "You aren't the first person today to try that. If we'd let it just happen you'd be in jail. This is ADVENT saving you from throwing your life away. You are not thinking clearly."

She took a step towards him, as he stood there limply, not having the strength to resist whatever would happen. "Look, I get it," she said softly. "My sister was butchered by the animals that did this. I want to put a bullet through every alien that was responsible for this." She tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. "But the right aliens. And when you're in an acceptable mental condition. You-we're not going to be able to get over this easily. But we need to at least try."

"Why?" He asked, voice cracking. "I don't have anything left."

"Yes you do," she said firmly. "Even if you don't see it now. I don't know who you lost, but would they want you to just give up?"

He shook his head; hesitantly, but he did it. She took his arm. "Come with me, let's get out of this place."

He didn't say anything as he was led out, still in a semi-surreal state. Maybe she could help him, maybe he somehow still had a future. But now he just felt tired and drained. He just wanted the day to end, to sleep.

To forget.

Maybe that realization broke the dam inside him, and he let silent tears roll down his cheeks as he was guided away.

Communications Hub – Mars Collective Base

1/9/2017 – 6:11 P.M.

Yang did not especially want to be standing in a darkened room as the holoprojectors lit up, even with the Battlemaster center-stage. She had heard the stories about the Dread Lord, and the fact that no one felt comfortable providing anything more than basic information about him, and that she'd never heard any sort of casual talk, let alone any jokes about his subjectively edgy persona said a lot.

Cogitian actually had a few documents on him.

Those had been enough to put the Dread Lord on her list of 'Ethereals never to talk to ever'. Even the dispassionate text of what he'd done and descriptions of what it was like to be around him unnerved her. What the Imperator had been thinking bringing him along she didn't know, although the literal fear factor was certainly a possibility.

But she would have preferred that the stories just stay that – stories. She had no desire to meet the illustrious Dread Lord in person.

But he was now connected to this incident, so the Battlemaster's first course of action was to speak to Isomnum directly. And to her mild surprise, he had responded rather quickly. Perhaps he was always this fast, but no one called him. She did feel some levity at the thought of Isomnum staring hopefully at a phone hoping someone would call him, but no one did because he was the closest thing to a demon the Ethereals had.

The hologram materialized, showing Isomnum in extreme detail. He matched his dossier image perfectly, right down to his death mask helmet. Two hands were held in front of him, and two were clasped behind him. The Dread Lord looked at the Battlemaster first, then down to her. She shivered as the empty eyes of the helmet stayed on her for far too long.

"Battlemaster." Yes, his voice was just as discomforting as described. "Why do you speak to me?"

Yang then noticed that Isomnum wasn't alone, there was another figure to his right, and another to his left. The leftmost figure was a Sectoid of all things, although this one was notably…unique. It wasn't a Vanguard, but it was modeled in the form of the Hive Commanders, if they were more proportionately built. It bore black armor of some kind, which seemed embedded directly in the flesh, and the eyes were a white that even came through the hologram.

The rightmost figure was a surprise. It was an elderly woman; Japanese she noticed, with her greying hair pulled back into a single ponytail. She wore nothing ornate, but instead a medical coat of sorts, with an array of surgical tools attached to a belt on her waist. Round-rimmed glasses rested on her face, and her face was impassive and cold, similar to the mask of the Ethereal beside her.

She supposed it wasn't out the question that Isomnum would have Humans working with him, but some part of her suspected that this wasn't an ordinary Human. She didn't like the idea that this person was yet another gift to an Ethereal from the Imperator, but it wouldn't necessarily be out of the question.

"Have you spoken with the Creator recently?" The Battlemaster began, also looking at his entourage.

"Yes. She came to me for advice," Isomnum motioned to the Sectoid. "I provided what she asked. In return she granted me this; a fascinating and intelligent creature. Further useful for the deconstruction of the Sectoid psyche, it is more adaptable than the Hive Commanders believe it is."

"I do not care about your pets," the Battlemaster dismissed flatly. "What did she request from you?"

"How to properly break the Humans through terror," he answered dispassionately. "Techniques, examples, how to use it to manipulate populations. Simple tasks, there are many avenues in which to exploit the Human psyche. The average Human can be broken through certain triggers; too much stress on a particular aspect will break them. Family is a noted constant. Figures of importance or prominence have an effect on those below them. Targeted, they will have a detrimental effect on the mental health of a population. This leads to irrationality, which leads to mistakes, which leads to exploitation, to conclude in manipulation."

Then Isomnum had definitely been behind this plan, even if it was just providing the Creator with the structure. The Battlemaster wasted no time. "Did you know she would carry it out?"

"Did she?" Isomnum's tone shifted to moderate interest for the first time. "If so, I am impressed. I did not think she would follow through. She is too…obsessed. Too broken to question whatever she is communicating with. She did not matter to me, but it has yet to dull her skill. Yet if she has performed what I suggested, then I may have to reexamine her potential."

The Battlemaster was angry enough that Yang could easily sense it, despite not being a telepath. "You are aware that I specifically stated that nothing of that nature was to happen without authorization. You should have informed me even if it was just a suggestion."

"No." Isomnum stated without emotion. "You are afforded no more respect than any of our kind. The concerns of aliens, their lives and feelings, are irrelevant. You have no stomach for war, for doing what is necessary for victory. I do not answer to you, you are ineffective."

"The Imperator placed me in charge of all operations on Earth," the Battlemaster continued calmly. "It does not matter your opinion of me, this went directly against the wishes of the Imperator."

"Words which are hollow," Isomnum added. "You are easy to placate, Battlemaster; easy to manipulate. You have been, and are little more than a tool used by others at their command. You think you have independence; authority, but all the power you have is an illusion. You are a weapon pointed at our enemies, always looking for validation or approval from those who are your superiors. You have authority over aliens. But your words or threats mean nothing to your own kind."

Yang didn't know if he was trying to make the Battlemaster angry or not, but she was concerned it was working. "He's trying to distract you."

"Yes, listen to your own pet," Isomnum said, looking back to her. "The Battlemaster, an Ethereal, listening to the words of an alien. You rely on them too much, Battlemaster, they are a corruption, one which you have succumbed to. Use and dispose of them as you wish, but you do not treat them as they are meant to be used. You care for them, and that is your weakness."

He looked to her, and she was suddenly assaulted with a psionic mind far stronger than anything she had ever face before. It reminded her of a lurking beast, hovering at the edge of her telepathic reach and pressing against her like a tidal wave. "Battlemaster…" she swallowed. "I can feel him."

"Cease your attack," the Battlemaster commanded. "There will be consequences if you continue."

Isomnum gave a hollow laugh. "None will mourn an alien. The Imperator will simply provide you another pet to placate you. But you will not forget how you lost this one."

The toying Ethereal easily shattered her defenses and was inside her mind, a stabbing and constant pain as he made sure she knew and he sorted through her mind like a burglar robbing a house at gunpoint. Her life from childhood to now flashed at various places before her eyes. "He's in my head!" She screamed in a panic.

Her vision blinked and flickered, pain stabbed throughout her body, not from bullets or standard weapons. On the ground she saw and felt her leg being ground up and eaten by spiders, which then began crawling into her body and she felt the eggs they were laying inside her. The area around her was no longer what she remembered, instead she was surrounded by corpses, all of them her family.

Perhaps she screams, or maybe not as the spiders were in her mouth, she didn't remember how her hands became deformed and covered in blood, but she saw it all the same. She knew there was something else there, some part of her which knew this wasn't real. But it was vivid and visceral.

And Yang could do nothing but scream as her sanity was broken bit by bit.

Blacksite 004: "Sanctuary" – Unknown

1/10/2017 – 3:20 A.M.

In the white room, the Battlemaster sat and thought. The actions of Isomnum were intolerable, and would need to be dealt with in suitable fashion. It was fortunate he had thought to take control of the situation immediately before her mind was lost for good. And he could always rely on Sana to be available when necessary. Especially when he was carrying a convulsing Human woman in his arms with an explanation of "Isomnum."

There were only a few options he had before him, and ultimately Sana he trusted the most and if there was anyone who would be able to help reverse the damage, it would be her. Perhaps. Sana was a doctor, and a powerful telepath, but he didn't know how often she worked with cases like this. But he didn't want to trust Yang to the Imperator or the Overmind.

He was surprised with himself how much he cared at all. While Yang was more…palpable than he had originally intended, it had been a matter of weeks since they'd met. It was probably simpler than that. No one deserved what Isomnum inflicted on his victims, especially when it was done with the intent to provoke him.

In which case, it had certainly succeeded.

However, he also disliked what Isomnum had said. Yang had been right in that it was clearly to throw him off, but the Battlemaster didn't think it couldn't have some truth to it. He was no Imperator, he had no desire to do anything other than what he was good at. That didn't necessarily make him just a weapon or tool. While it might not be something that Isomnum would care about, he did have some authority in the Collective.

Certainly more than Isomnum had with the Imperator.

Although…he did wonder now. How true that was would depend on what happened next. What Isomnum had done was unjustified and the most blatant in a long list of his offenses against not just aliens, but the Ethereals themselves. His involvement in this incident was enough for the Battlemaster to justify his removal.

But he wasn't sure the Imperator would allow that. While he could understand the reluctance to kill off an Ethereal when there were so few left, the Battlemaster was convinced that the Collective would be better off without him, and that he was too dangerous to be left alive. It was both the practical and right thing to do.

The Creator's fate would depend on her own justifications.

The Imperator was hiding something important there, and the Battlemaster was not naïve enough to think that the Creator could be doing anything major with him knowing about it. It was concerning enough that he hadn't been told of it, but what was more concerning was that the Imperator was in support of it.

From what the Hunter had said, he wasn't going to like what he found.

At the very minimum the Creator needed to be detained until they figured out what was going on.

He let out a sigh. And this was happening just as the Collective had begun to stabilize. Now there were two Ethereals acting outside their authority and deliberately interfering with Earth. Not a good situation, but one he would have to solve soon. The Humans would never let this go until they knew the truth one way or another, and right now it just served as a rallying cry.

The problem would only get worse if the Imperator declined to punish either of them.

He wasn't sure what he would do in that case.

The Imperator was not unreasonable. His reluctance to punish Ethereals was understandable, but this idiotic assumption that they could keep acting like they were invulnerable and superior to everything else was one reason the Empire fell. Isomnum was a remnant of an era that didn't exist any longer, and some day they would find an alien species that would pose more of a threat than the Humans.

Despite what Isomnum thought, aliens were not inferior. Not really. If that were the case they wouldn't bother with them at all, and they wouldn't have been working to make sure they were on the same side. Humanity had at least proven that aliens could hold their own, which likely made Isomnum irritated that was the case.

The door slid open and Sana walked inside, her expression one of focus. The Battlemaster stood as well. "Will she recover?"

"Yes," Sana answered. "Though only because you brought her to me immediately. The damage would have been irreversible if you had delayed." She shook her head. "A parasitic command. A perfected one, I have only seen it a few times. Goes through the victim memory by memory and forces a certain reaction. Unsurprising it was fear. Luckily it hadn't gone too far, and I was able to stop it."

She let out a sigh. "I suppressed the memories of what she endured."

"Suppressed? Not removed?"

"It is…complicated," Sana waved a hand. "Removing the memories outright could possibly cause personality incompatibilities. If she returns later, I could examine how to remove them without damaging her, but from what I saw of her mind…she would not want me in her head. Or anyone."

"An understandable response," the Battlemaster nodded. "But you have already done it."

"Only to save her sanity," Sana nodded. "She is…not a sound woman. Hardly one to bring into battles."

"Violence does not indicate mental status," the Battlemaster said. "Otherwise I would never be considered of a sound mind."

"You are not the same as her," Sana shook her head. "But that is a different conversation. What Isomnum did here was inexcusable, and I am certain it was not the first time."

He snorted. "Of course it wasn't."

"What do you plan to do?" Sana stepped forward, her robes sweeping over the floor. "I saw the conversation in her memories. It was direct defiance, and if he was involved in what happened…" she trailed off. "This cannot stand without consequence, especially if it came from one of our own kind."

"I will deal with Isomnum later," the Battlemaster stated, moving to walk out of the room. "But first I will need to bring the Creator into custody. She has been allowed unmitigated freedom in her experiments, and what I have heard bodes ill for what I will find. She will at least be easy to subdue and bring in."

"Should you inform the Imperator?" Sana asked. "He would also be interested in what happened. This is not what he wants."

He glanced at her thoughtfully as he entered the main medical ward. "No. The Imperator knows more than he has said. I want to see for myself if this is the case. He would not order this, but he has been lax in reigning in the likes of Isomnum and the Creator."

"He will not appreciate that," Sana pointed out as they reached Yang's bed. The woman was now clad in a simple medical robe, and looked almost peaceful as she slept. A monitor hooked to sensors on the bed transmitted all important medical information. Heartbeat, brainwaves, blood pressure, all the necessary vitals.

The Battlemaster barely heard Sana's comment as he looked her over, but gave a quick response. "That is too bad. He should not have allowed this degree of freedom."

Sana checked some of the equipment, and continued speaking, without looking to the Battlemaster. "So when will you go to the Creator?"

"When she wakes up," he nodded to Yang. "I feel delaying would not end well. Too much of an opportunity for the Imperator to intervene, or the Creator to destroy or alter evidence. She likely knows the Hunter told me everything."

"She just went through a traumatic experience!" Sana exclaimed in disbelief. "And you want to drag her to deal with the Creator?"

"The Creator is not a threat," the Battlemaster said. "And yes. The memories were suppressed, she should be fine since the damage was not physical."

"I highly recommend against this," Sana said. "She needs rest, not a visit to the Creator's hell."

"There is another thing," the Battlemaster raised a hand. "I want you to come with me."

She appraised him carefully. After a few moments of silence she just asked. "Why?"

"Because there are going to be those who need your help," he said grimly. "Once the Creator is subdued, I will put whatever is within Paradise under your control. Dispose or help the victims as you see fit, but I want you to become more involved in the Collective. Shutting down Paradise would certainly assist in that."

Her mouth was a thin line. "I cannot disagree that it would feel good to end the Creator's streak of insanity. Yet it might turn violent."

He faced her squarely. "You have fought before, and if you forget, we will be able to protect you. And you could help her." He nodded down to Yang. "But I am not expecting a fight. The Creator is no warrior, and she will capitulate easily enough."

Sana sighed. "Very well. Better I go than Revelean. Yang will likely awaken shortly, and in the meantime I will…prepare."

"Do that," the Battlemaster said, as he sat down on another bed in the ward. "I will wait here."

En Route to Blacksite 10: "Paradise" – Orbit of the Dead World

1/10/2017 – 10:00 A.M.

When the Imperator had first given the Ethereals the resources and authority to construct their own personal stations, it was not a gift squandered. Some were small and compact, fulfilling a singular purpose, and others were massive, spanning dozens of levels and factories in their own right. Each one was a work of art which reflected their designer.

The Battlemaster remembered the Creator's original Blacksite. It had not been called Paradise then, but something else he couldn't bother to remember the name of. But it had been small, a spherical station that housed several levels of labs and chambers. Modest, but utilitarian, much like how the Creator had been.

That no longer resembled anything close to Paradise.

"Where is it?" Yang asked, looking surprisingly refreshed for what she had gone through. The Battlemaster chalked it up to Sana suppressing the event, and the enhancing drugs which had been pumped into her. They would keep her awake and alert, and were specifically designed to rejuvenate psions.

"Straight ahead," the Battlemaster said calmly as he piloted the Cultro forward. "We're almost there."

Yang frowned. "It's on the moon?"

"Not a moon," Sana corrected, stepping forward as she also appraised the marvel before them. "That is Paradise."

It was easy to mistake the space station for a moon. It was the size of a small one, though not even half the size as the one orbiting Earth. It was a sphere with a black outer shell, almost blending into the void it inhabited. The Battlemaster knew that it wasn't completely dense, each level allowed some space between it, eventually growing smaller and smaller.

But as he'd found out, acquiring complete schematics of Paradise was impossible. The most he'd been able to find was the first level, which included useful details like where the walls could move to form different passages, the Gateways leading to different lower levels (And even parts of the same level), labs, cells, and the lone stasis chamber.

He did not like how little they knew about anything beyond the first level.

And he especially didn't like that they were walking in blind to just what the Creator had.

Upon reviewing the video the Hunter acquired, the fact that Vitakarians of all things were somehow managing feats of teleportation, and the Creator was using strangely decayed specimens of all species, it all pointed to something especially unnatural happening. The closer he drew, the more he realized just how big the station was.

He didn't feel like they would pose a threat, but it was disconcerting such a thing was possible at all. Another question in the list to ask her.

"Communication incoming," Yang said, looking at the solid green light indicating a hail.

"Open it," the Battlemaster nodded. She pressed a button and the hologram of the sender appeared. Unlike the previous ones he had seen, this one was a Human, and did not appear to be degraded in the same way others representing her were. The Human wore a white robe with intricate patterns and symbols embroidered into it, and the robe itself was weaved expertly through silver armor it wore, the shine the Battlemaster recognized as his own. Materials from the Dead World.

That raised unpleasant implications.

The man's face was shaven, as was his head. The eyes were a steel grey, but the face was completely impassive. Not a single muscle moved as the Battlemaster waited. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of tone. "You are encroaching on Paradise. You are advised to leave immediately."

"This is the Battlemaster of the Ethereal Collective," he answered. "I will speak to the Creator. Tell her I am coming."

"We know why you have come," the man said, unmoved in the slightest. "You will not find what you seek here. That was a warning, Battlemaster, one it is advised you heed. Paradise operates under the approval of the Imperator, and we are authorized to defend our institution from threats. Do you intend harm towards the Creator, Battlemaster?"

"Only if she gives me no choice."

The man was impassive, as he waited a few seconds for seemingly no reason. "You will be allowed to speak to her. No more. Do not go where you do not belong, Ethereal; even you can die here."

The hologram vanished, leaving the Battlemaster both amused and curious. "The Creator's minions hold high opinion of themselves. Interesting that they claim the Imperator's protection."

Yang pursed her lips, as she placed her helmet over her head, a design the Battlemaster had taken from Human medieval knights, although updated to work with her armor. "I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this."

"As do I," Sana agreed. "This is not normal. Fortunate that I did not listen to you about the lack of risk."

For once, the Battlemaster was glad someone had ignored him. Sana was wearing her battlefield attire, something he had not seen her wear in decades. It wasn't quite armor, but interlinked alloy weave which wrapped around her body, retaining some characteristics of robes, but with freedom of movement. She wore no hood, and there were several tools and drugs along her waist and pockets in case she needed them.

They flew the rest of the way in relative silence to the designated hangar. Interestingly enough the Blacksite physically opened up to them, blade-like pieces retracting into a triangle-shaped area, which was definitely not standard Collective design. He easily piloted it in, and set it down, while retracting the exit bulkheads and disabling the seals.

"Something is wrong here," Sana said cautiously, looking around. "Something is interfering with my telepathy."

The Battlemaster drew his weapon. "Blocking you?"

"Not…exactly," she explained. "But normally I am able to easily sense the minds of those around me. I cannot, or at least not beyond a short radius. I can feel you, Miss Shuren, and there are several waiting outside. But their minds are…protected. I would not be able to penetrate them without direct action."

"Keep your guard up," the Battlemaster instructed as he led the trio off the ship. "This may be more difficult than expected."

Angled pillars dominated the architecture, ones which extended upwards to meet at a peak. It was not like any traditional Ethereal architecture, and reminded him somewhat of Human cathedrals. It seemed to be designed to evoke a constricted, oppressive feel, especially in such a tightly controlled space. The area was bare of any equipment or furnishings. There was only a cold grey and glossy tile for the floor which continued in all directions.

Awaiting them was a curious entourage. There were five figures, four of whom were each a different alien species, a Human, Vitakarian, Sectoid, and somehow, an unsuited Andromedon who all wore black robes and hoods. Like the figure the Battlemaster had seen before, they were in various states of decay. The Andromedon in particular looked almost white, and the skin of the others looked veined and cracked.

Unhealthy to say the least.

In contrast to them, the leading figure, a female Dath'Haram, looked unnaturally…striking. If there was a model for the race, this alien would embody it. Regal, toned, skin a pleasant shade of green and her face and eyes aesthetically pleasing even to aliens. She was without physical flaw, and even the Battlemaster couldn't deny that she was pleasant to look at.

She wore a cloak instead of robes, but this was noticeably more intricate and ornate, allowing more freedom of movement. It had a hood, but it was down with her face exposed to the world. The trim of the robes was a sparkling gold, and strange symbols and glyphs – the same type he recalled from the Creator – were also embroidered in gold thread on the robes in specific places.

"Battlemaster," she began with a short bow; even her voice and motions were smooth, attractive, and without flaw. "We have been expecting you, as well as your disciple Yang Shuren and the honorable Sana'Ligna."

At least this one was more conversational. "Then you know why we have come. Take us to the Creator."

"As you wish," she turned and gestured for them to follow. "Please follow me."

They did, with the Battlemaster standing beside the leader, and the remainder of the aliens – Caretakers, the Hunter had called them, flanking them. "Who are you?" The Battlemaster asked as they walked into a similarly triangular hallway.

"I am merely the Umbra of Paradise," she said, flashing her teeth in a Dath'Haram smile. "A mere watcher over this place. No one of significant importance, I assure you."

The Battlemaster had a feeling that she was more important – and dangerous – than she wanted to say. But he said nothing as they kept walking until they reached a Gateway. It started automatically on their approach, and they stepped through it – from the schematics the Battlemaster knew it led to the so-called "Ascension Ring" of the first level.

"You have not been here before," the Umbra said as they entered a larger hallway, this one a more traditional rectangle. "What brings you to Paradise?"

The Battlemaster looked down at her. "The Creator has interfered in Collective operations. I am here to determine how to handle her."

"Ah," the Umbra shook her head. "The Creator does not make mistakes of such nature. If she did interfere in a plan of the Collective, I am certain she was justified in doing so."

"Unlikely," Yang snorted. "So what's wrong with them?" She motioned to the Caretakers.

"Wrong?" The alien blinked almost in offense. "Nothing is wrong with them. To be chosen as a Caretaker of Paradise is one of the highest honors one can achieve. If of course requires sacrifice, but the gifts received are worth the mere physical pain of this world."

The Battlemaster could imagine Yang's unimpressed face. "They look dead."

"One cannot bear power without a price," the Umbra said solemnly. "These Caretakers now serve a higher purpose than their previous lives. They were all once mere mortals, unimportant, nonessential; ones who sleepwalked through life until they became ascended."

A circular door with similarly blade-shaped segments retracted as they stepped through, into another circle which was filled with Humans. Not just any Humans, the Battlemaster saw that every single one was a Caucasian female. Blue shields separated the ring of captives into segments, with each 'cell' having exactly five occupants.

"What is this?" Sana demanded, as she saw what the center of the chamber held. There were a ring of odd-shaped stasis-like chambers, each one holding a Human female at various stages of some kind of mutation or disease, beside it was a table where two Caretaker Sectoids were operating on another.

"We are exceptionally organized, and of course do not squander what the Collective provides us," the Umbra continued without pause. "These are captives from Earth. We are continuing to determine the full capabilities of their genome based on ethnicity, gender, and which adapt best to our technologies being developed today."

The Battlemaster looked at the woman who was clearly in agony, though wasn't able to scream because of some organic-looking creature placed over her mouth, though her eyes begged for relief. The Caretakers looked like they were trying to graft something to her flayed arm, and that they were having difficulty with it.

The Battlemaster looked around at the captives, all of them having dead expressions as they shrank away from them wherever they approached. "Am I supposed to be impressed?" The Battlemaster finally asked in a low voice. "Because this display is…lacking."

A blade suddenly flashed by him and buried itself in the head of the woman, instantly killing her. All of the Caretakers immediately dropped to combat stances, blue energy encircling their hands and lightly glowing behind their eyes as they focused on her. A wave from the Umbra had them ease, but the Dath'Haram looked at Yang in clear disapproval. "Do you feel satisfied, Yang Shuren? Is your murder of a woman common among your people?"

"When the alternative is whatever the hell this torture is, than yes," she said, the bloodied blade recalling to her hand as she glared through the helmet at the alien. "Is the pointless torture of civilians common among your people?"

"The woman you killed was nothing," the Umbra said, taking a step forward. "A mere pawn of a store on Earth. A life devoid of any purpose. Here she had found one. She could have become something great, and if not, she would serve beyond death; a purpose that is eternal. In her short time here she made a larger impact on the galaxy than she ever would have on Earth. An impact which has just been culled by your selfishness."

"And who is to decide the purpose and worth?" Sana demanded. "Did this woman choose to be here?"

"Change elicits fear," the Umbra said, her voice low as she spoke the words. "Mortals fear the unknown. They fear the unknowable. Yet does that mean they should not be shown anyway? Should they be forgotten simply because they choose to remain blind?" She shook her head. "I was once like you, Sana'Ligna." She stepped towards the Ethereal, who took a step back herself. "Blind and fearful of what I saw. Sickened and revolted, but eventually I learned, I watched. I began to see the purpose behind this, behind everything."

She motioned around her. "Once I accepted the reality of the galaxy, of my place in it, for the first time I was able to know peace and assurance. Not as a mere hunter of the Dath'Haram, or a Bladedancer guarding old and irrelevant ruins, but as one who shapes the future. And I have seen the future, Sana'Ligna, and it is beautiful."

The Battlemaster was disquieted by what she was saying. Not due to the words themselves, but by the fact that the Creator had a far more intricate hold over these aliens than he had realized. She had somehow achieved a deity status with them, something he didn't previously think she had the subtlety and mindset for.

"Enough." The Battlemaster raised a fist, and motioned for her to move on. "Take us to the Creator. Order them to cease whatever they are doing. If I return and they are experimenting on another woman, I will kill them."

The Umbra sighed, but waved dismissively at the Sectoid Caretakers, who left silently. "This way."

The next hallway was longer, and the Battlemaster did not especially feel any charitable emotions for the Creator at this point. He supposed this had always been going on, but seeing it in person was a different experience. On a certain level he could see that it was likely not too different from what Revelean did.

But Revelean was usually more…considerate. Experimented subjects were never conscious, or they were just killed. They didn't suffer unnecessarily, and at least Revelean developed what he considered to be useful research. To his knowledge he had never heard of the Creator developing anything that wasn't unnatural or of actual usefulness to anything else.

Even the Chosen were mere pawns of limited loyalty and power, and he did not want to know exactly how the Gatekeeper had been developed. What he could not completely understand was showing this off to him as if it were something to be impressed by. "Are there children here?" Sana asked.

"Of course," the Umbra answered immediately. "Do not fear, they are specially chosen by us. Children have important roles, their purpose and potential is much grander than an adult."

"You will take me there after we speak to the Creator," Sana stated. "You will need to learn to live without them."

"Heartless, Sana'Ligna," the Umbra sounded sad. "You would tear children away from their home? From the love they receive here? Who are you to decide that this is not their home? I believed you to be better than that."

"I am certain that whatever happens here," Sana said slowly, her voice quiet in a way the Battlemaster knew was close to her becoming violent. Something that was exceptionally rare. "It is the farthest thing from love."

"There is love in everything we do here," the Dath'Haram merely continued her faux sorrow. "Yet I understand you cannot accept it. But it is what gives us strength and guides us through the trials. Even you can receive it if you open your mind to something greater than yourself."

"Enough of this," the Battlemaster cut her off. "Umbra, I should tell you now that the Creator will be leaving with me. Paradise will be turned over to Sana, and you will follow her orders as if she is the Creator."

The Umbra did not respond, but merely led them forward. They entered another "Ascension room" which had nothing but Vitakarians in it, of both genders. This room had no additional Caretakers, but it was almost more horrific. All of them were horribly starved, little more than skin and bones as they looked at those on the other side of the energy fields with envy. The Battlemaster let his fist clench when he saw several of the cells had bones and clearly half-eaten corpses in them.

"Stop."

All of them did at Sana's voice, who unsurprisingly looked and felt both mortified and furious. The Umbra looked behind her with a faint display of disapproval. "Do you wish to continue-"

"Silence."

The Ethereal placed two fingers of one hand on the side of her head, closing her eyes as the psionic energy faintly swirled around her. One of the Caretakers raised a blue-tinged arm right before he felt a cool blade rest against his neck.

"Touch her, and you die," the Battlemaster said coldly. The Caretaker relented and returned to being his impassive self. After a short time the prisoners began falling over, not dead from what the Battlemaster could tell, but sleeping. Not a cure, but he knew it was better than letting them suffer further.

"We can continue," the Umbra said with clear dismissal as she continued walking. They continued in silence as they entered more rooms, each one some kind of twisted and repulsive experiment. Everything from each cell being exposed to a certain frequency which had caused some to crudely force themselves deaf, or a room where each member had a hand and a foot removed.

None of them asked what the purpose could be. None of them could see any possible reason other than sadism, but at each one Sana insisted on stopping; insisted on doing something to help, even if it was minor. The Umbra allowed it, though was clearly annoyed with all the delays.

Paradise. A sick joke if he had ever heard one.

"The Creator is just beyond this room-ah!" She didn't have time to finish as the Battlemaster telekinetically slammed her to the side as he crumpled the door leading to the Creator's chambers. The Umbra looked mildly annoyed, and once more waved off the Caretakers from again channeling their strange abilities.

The room was almost bare, square, with an elevated square in the center where the Creator stood over a surgical table which was thankfully devoid of anything else. The chambers themselves were dimly lit, and on the walls hung tapestries of abstract symbols and art which he had no idea how to decipher. The Creator was in the same robes he had seen earlier, almost an odd mockery of Sana when she was in her own non-battlefield attire.

In the far corners he saw two figures standing silently. One was what he could only describe as a massive Sectoid, one as tall as he was. It was as if a Vanguard had been doubled in size, and given the muscle mass to match. Its head was also noticeably bigger, even proportionate to it's size. The armor it wore was alien, yet regal in terms of pure craftsmanship with beautifully carved patterns and designs which seemed almost organic as it weaved through the robes it also wore as a covering.

The second one was a Muton that looked surprisingly small, or at least seemed that way as it was only the same height as the Sectoid, where it was usually the opposite. This one actually looked similar to a Berserker, at least in the color scheme. Silver armor as exquisitely crafted as the Sectoid's covered its form, all of the engravings in red, along with a cloak over it. It wore a helmet which resembled a Muton's face, but one with what could only be described as a solemn expression. A hammer proportionate to its size rested in one hand, the head on the ground, while the other hand was inside some kind of armored gauntlet.

"Blessed Creator, Artist of his work," the Umbra bowed deeply as they approached. "The Battlemaster and his entourage have arrived."

"I see them," the Creator appraised them in disapproval. "Why have you come here, Battlemaster? I have important work to be doing."

"Now is not the time to play ignorance," the Battlemaster growled, his voice deadly calm. "Just answer my question: Did you order the attack on Earth?"

She cocked her head. "Ah, that. The Hunter betrayed my secrets I see. No matter. I ordered it, yes. I have grown tired of this constant delay in conquering Earth. Your methods are inefficient, I consulted Isomnum, and from there determined a way to break the morale of the Humans and acquire some resources that are useful to me."

The Creator glanced down on them in near-contempt. "And I see you couldn't help but get involved, Sana. Naïve and useless as always. I do not apologize for my actions. In the future, you will be informed of my operations."

"That is all you can say?" Sana exclaimed in disbelief. "After what we walked through and saw this is all you can say?"

"This is not your domain," the Creator said in frustration. "I do not give you instructions on how to run your Blacksite. You would do well to extend the same courtesy. All who come here see Paradise, in this life or the next. All who arrive in these walls turn their directionless lives into meaningful ones. Myself included."

"You tread on dangerous ground," the Battlemaster continued keeping his voice low as he unconsciously let his power make the air quiver. "You know better. I believe you have forgotten your place in the Collective. You have been deranged and allowed freedom for far too long. You will be coming with me."

"No," she answered, crossing her upper arms. "You lack the authority-"

She let out a yell as she was yanked forward until she impaled herself on his extended blade. He telekinetically dragged her forward until her body was at the hilt, and he roughly grabbed her face with a free hand. "I want this to be perfectly clear," he hissed in fury. "The only reason you are alive is because you are one of us. I will drag you before the Imperator and he will execute-"

He was cut off as the Creator unexpectedly gripped his weapon with a blood-stained hand. "You," she hissed with surprising strength and fury. "Just made a fatal mistake. Your fate is sealed."

"Battlemaster!" Yang shouted, and he pushed the Creator away just in time to avoid the spiked hammer of the Muton which would have slammed right onto his head.

"Kill them!" The Battlemaster roared as he recalled the blade to his hand, eliciting a shout from the Creator as the blade slick with blue blood swept in an arc which decapitated the nearest Caretaker – who flashed with a brief blue light from the wound - as the others began channeling their powers for real. Yang had already killed another one, and was currently facing attacks from the other two.

The Umbra simply sighed in distaste. "An unfortunate outcome. Kill them if you can, delay if you can't." She briefly shimmered blue and vanished. The Battlemaster looked to where the Creator was, and saw her being kept up by the massive Sectoid, who created a blue portal and pushed her into it as he turned to face the Battlemaster.

"Take care of him," the voice that emerged from the Sectoid – a real one – sounded oddly rich and deep. "The healer will be dealt with."

"As we have prepared for," the Muton spoke – a female of all things. Their voices were distinctly a shade lighter, even though he had only heard one talk a handful of times. "It is an honor, Battlemaster." Her arms began flowing with scathing purple energy which didn't seem to scorch or scar the pristine armor; with the purple flame sheathing her weapon and gauntlet in the acidic energy. With a flourish she charged forward, swinging the hammer with the ease of a feather which he caught by the flat of his sword which held against the purple energy, first intending to test her strength.

She pushed down, but he held, just as he pushed back with a telekinetic blast. He quickly dashed forward and delivered a strike to her head, then did another dash towards the Sectoid, one sheathed in blue power as he assaulted Sana with energy of the same color. The opposing Ethereal was sheathed in her own purple aura, an ability he had not seen in decades.

He smiled under his helmet at the sight. The air itself became tinged with purple as she expanded her aura. Yang behind him was fighting skillfully, having killed another Caretaker telekinetically although she was still dealing with one.

The Muton suddenly thrust an arm forward and sent him flying backwards, which he quickly corrected via a mid-air psionic charge right back into her, the force knocking her backwards, thanks to a psionically enhanced punch. Invigorated, he rose and began striking the Muton, harder and faster than he had in decades, switching hands and adding psionic punches to the strikes.

He had forgotten what it was like to fight under the influence of Sana.

The better part was that the longer it persisted, the stronger he became.

And the weaker his opponents became.

Yang executed the last Caretaker with a beheading, and telekinetically threw her swords towards the Sectoid who didn't even bother lifting a hand as he redirected them back at her. The Muton was fighting back, now adding her own psionic attacks and punches. She finally let out a roar and extended a hand, catching him in a vice and corrosive energy began lapping at his armor.

Unfortunately, he was still better at it. She had simply provided a means of concentrating more…directly. He focused the telekinetic power on her most vulnerable points, the joints, eyes, and organs. He heard a squish and multiple cracks as the Muton stumbled, though didn't fall. The Sectoid was still trying to assault Sana, but was having little luck, as his psionic attacks did little but irritate her skin which knit back together near-instantly.

The Battlemaster briefly appraised both the Muton female, whose own corrosive aura hadn't dimmed in the slightest, and the resilient Sectoid. How exactly the psionic power the Muton displayed was even possible was a question for another day. Right now he needed to focus on the situation, and took a closer look at the Muton's companion.

The giant Sectoid couldn't beat Sana telekinetically, and every second he continued fighting his body became weaker. But with a glance and a sudden teleport, now he was suddenly in front of the Battlemaster, and with a gesture threw him backwards causing him to slam into one of the tapestries. The Battlemaster charged forward again, and began striking from as many angles as possible.

Ironically, the Sectoid was almost a better duelist. Every strike was immediately blocked by a blue shield which existed just long enough to stop his strike. A hand faced palm-down, and the Battlemaster was anchored to the ground. The Muton charged forward with the gauntlet-hand pulled back and wreathed in psionic flame, but was suddenly slowed as Yang appeared to the side, one hand extended towards the alien.

The Sectoid teleported in front of her in the blink of an eye and with a gesture bathed her in corrosive energy which easily penetrated through her armor and ravaged her body, leaving it writhing on the floor. The Battlemaster, free once more, charged the Muton, pinning it in place with his telekinesis and stabbed directly into its eye.

But his sword never hit the target, as the blade itself had been caught by the gauntleted hand of the Muton. Golden ichor bled from the hand, but the Muton swung the hammer at his head, which he in turn caught by the handle with one of his hands. Both aliens grappled with each other, with the psionic energy beginning to scratch the Battlemaster's own gauntlet, while the blade cut ever deeper into the palm of the Muton.

With his lower arms he telekinetically drew upon his own power and directed it towards the head of the Muton once more. It roared and pushed towards him with significant strength, but he held fast, and the helmet began crumpling in on itself, already leaking more blood from the crevices.

The Muton finally drew back, yanking the weapon back to his hand, and he dashed to the side of it, grabbed the gauntleted arm telekinetically and stabbed towards it. The armor itself held, and he only managed to nick one of the gaps.

But the Muton was blinded now, even more than she had been before, and with Sana assisting, it was only a matter of time until the battle was decided. It appeared the Sectoid had recognized the same thing, as it teleported behind the Muton, and lifted it telekinetically as a portal was created behind it which it backed into, a psionic shield protecting against any possible retaliation.

The room was silent.

He looked around the room in near-disbelief at what had happened. This should not be close to possible, but it had turned out that a freak Sectoid and Muton had somehow been able to pose something of a challenge for all of them. And both of them were likely still alive, which meant they would be coming back, something which would not bode well since they would bring help.

A brief glance to the Caretaker corpses revealed that that bright flash he'd seen when he'd killed one had seemed to have some effect on the corpses. Whereas in life they had looked aged and sickly, in death they appeared shriveled and little more than sludge for some of them. This could not be natural. Psionic energy housing? He had heard of the theories of the feasibility in the Empire, but those had never materialized.

The Creator was not a powerful psion. How could she have discovered something like this, let alone seemed to perfect it?

Sana was by Yang, who was waking up. Sana had removed her helmet and had placed a palm on her forehead as she mended the wounds inflicted by the Sectoid. "What the hell?" she coughed at she saw the scars on her arms healing. "How are you-"

"It is called Biopathy," she answered softly. "A rare skill even many Ethereals cannot learn, let alone master. I promise I will give more details later."

"Right," she coughed once. "Speaking of which, what the fuck was that?!"

"Unknown," the Battlemaster said flatly. "I've never seen anything like it. This is far beyond experimentation. Not even the Creator could discover this on her own, not in this short a time."

"Well, she did it," Yang said as she rose to her feet. "Did no one bother to check what she was actually doing?"

"We can discuss this later," Sana said, looking around. "I believe the Creator will have more of these modified creatures attack. This place…it is disruptive, but tinged with power. The barrier between the Psionosphere and reality is thin. I would not have been able to assist so quickly anywhere else."

"I doubt our ship has survived," the Battlemaster said grimly. "And for the current situation, we are trapped here. Our options are limited, and if she has more of those things, even we will not be able to last forever. We have one option."

"Go deeper?" Yang winced. "Think they'll even let us?"

"This place is connected by two-way gateways," he answered. "They cannot be tampered with, not even the Creator could decipher Sovereign technology. There are no security measures, if we find gateways, we can cross them."

"So the plan is to kill the Creator before she kills us?" Yang asked. "Not the worst plan."

"But a dangerous one," Sana looked down, as if considering something. "I suspect those were not the most dangerous creatures she had. There will be more. We need help."

"That would be great," Yang said sarcastically. "But where exactly are we going to get it? The captives?"

"No, they would be led to their immediate deaths," Sana looked to the Battlemaster. "We must release Mortis."

"Who?" Yang asked.

"Mortis'Ligna," the Battlemaster answered. "The Dead Ethereal. Her…brother."

"When you say 'dead'…"

"I mean he was rendered medically comatose," Sana said slowly. "Unless…I directed him. At the end he was little more than a walking bioweapon. We share a psionic bond…" she trailed off. "This is not important, not now. We need his help if we want to survive."

"Are you sure you can direct him?" The Battlemaster asked as he turned to go back into the hallway, remembering the schematics. "It's been-"

"I can," Sana said sadly as she began following. "There are some skills I can't forget, even if I wanted to."

Level 1, Paradise – Orbit of the Dead World

Unknown Time

"Look out!" Yang shouted and the Battlemaster spun around to see, or rather, not see something leaping at him. The writhing solid mass was telekinetically caught, right before he stabbed upward into it. The skin was hardened, but with the iron grip of telekinesis he made it penetrate the body, it stopped writhing, and he followed up by crushing the head in his hands.

Even in death the creature was difficult to see; somehow able to blend into the environment around it, a memetic ability, he had only heard rumors of the possibility. Revelean had been working on something like that, but it appeared the Creator was far ahead of him. It hadn't been the first attack either. One had nearly disemboweled Yang who'd required healing from Sana, and they'd been hounded by the things for the past half hour as they'd walked.

Yang herself was in sub-optimal state. Even if her physical body was able to be continuously healed by Sana, her armor was severely degraded. It was corroded all over from the psionic attack by that Sectoid, broken in multiple places, and the continuing attacks were only adding scratches and damage to the already-beaten armor.

It wouldn't be able to protect her for much longer. A problem. One he'd have to deal with at some point.

The walls had shifted, but the Battlemaster knew which way to go. They had also sustained ambushes along the way; Caretakers appearing out of portals in front of, or behind them, with the intent to score quick kills. However with Sana with them such attacks at best only slowed them down, and after the attempt by one to push him and then Yang into a portal, the Battlemaster was keeping his guard up constantly, as was Sana.

The ambushes had stopped, but the beasts that had likely been patrolling the halls this entire time were still being encountered. They were…interestingly creative as well. They managed to always attack from where he did not expect it. From the sides, from above, when his head was turned the other way, and just when he was distracted for a moment.

Almost as if there was something watching.

The Battlemaster didn't really know how that could be possible, since there was nothing resembling a security system, and there were no obvious observers. Either way he was on edge, and the constant attacks were doing very little to lessen this. Given how many times Yang had already almost been killed, she was sticking very close to him.

She'd made a joke that she was on her third life. One he'd laughed at if only to reassure her. If he hadn't brought Sana along, he was certain she would be dead. He wasn't even sure he'd be in the position he was in now. And this was probably the optimal situation.

Trapped in a hostile space station, threatened by a sadistic traitor Ethereal and her creations. The Imperator, if he knew about what was really going on, was going to have a lot of explaining to do. But there was still something wrong with this place that he couldn't sense, but Sana and Yang could. Likely to do with his immunity to telepathy.

A blessing at this point.

"Here we are," the Battlemaster said, looking at an unmarked door which led to the stasis chamber on the schematics. He was slightly surprised that he hadn't encountered more resistance, but perhaps the Creator didn't want to risk more of her pets quite yet. Or maybe she couldn't. He didn't know what she was planning or thinking anymore.

"What happens if they moved them?" Yang suddenly asked.

Well. That would be a problem.

"Let's not jump to the worst scenario," the Battlemaster suggested, as he telekinetically forced the doors open, and they entered the room. Inside was something much more reminiscent of actual Ethereal design. Well-lit, two large lockers on one wall, and on the opposite one, two stasis chambers. He didn't fail to notice there was a dull blue orb which was embedded into the wall above, and between the two stasis chambers.

"A Sovereign Orb," Sana also noted. "Perhaps that is why they are avoiding this area or haven't moved the stasis pods. The Imperator also gave orders they were not to be touched."

"I would assume it is the former," the Battlemaster said, looking to the rightmost pod. "Orders alone would not have prevented them."

The figure of Mortis'Ligna was as he remembered. Eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest, oxygen mask and suit keeping him alive. For being medically close to brain-dead, his body looked as healthy as a normal Ethereal. The Battlemaster hadn't entirely liked the idea of using an Ethereal he'd developed something of a friendship with as a weapon, but the Synthesized had demanded such a sacrifice.

And now they needed him again.

"What is this?" Yang asked, pointing to the other stasis pod which was very clearly not of Ethereal origin. It was composed almost entirely of orange shards, offering a splintered look into the chamber within.

Well, so it had ended up here. Interesting. "That is a Zudjari," the Battlemaster said as he looked at the sleeping alien. "'Axis' he is supposedly called, one of their most powerful. I did not realize that he had ended up here."

"Nor did I," Sana said. "I had assumed the Imperator had stashed him somewhere remote, like he did with Origin."

"This is remote," the Battlemaster pointed out. "At least very few would stumble upon him here."

"There was a completely different species and I never was told this?" Yang sounded mildly annoyed. "This seems like it should be a lot more important than you both are saying."

"The Zudjari are an ancient species," the Battlemaster gave the short version. "We discovered them some time ago. We awakened some and they immediately betrayed us. We decided it was best not to investigate them further until later. There are not many of them, and this one was deemed a possible threat."

"But that is an assumption," Sana said slowly. "And we could use all the help here we can."

"You want to release him?" The Battlemaster demanded. "He might attack us!"

"All of us can handle one Zudjari," Sana said. "More importantly, I doubt he would attack when we're all that stands between life and death."

"Do it," the Battlemaster sighed. "We don't have much time here anyway."

Sana quickly went over to the stasis chamber of Mortis'Ligna and began the awakening procedures. "Shield your mind," the Battlemaster warned Yang as the pod hissed and began opening. "If you do not, you will die immediately."

She swallowed. "Understood."

The pod opened and Mortis'Ligna opened his eyes.

Then began to look around, and saw first Sana then him and Yang. "Sana…" he said in a voice that sounded like it had not been used in a long time. "What is…happening…" he stumbled out and was quickly caught by his sister.

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Somehow, it seemed the Dead Ethereal was alive again. "You're awake!" Sana exclaimed in similar surprise and amazement.

"Of course…" he said, strength returning to his voice, as his eyes narrowed. "What is that?"

"She is a Human," the Battlemaster said, nodding down to Yang. "An alien species we are…utilizing to an extent."

"The situation must be bad if the Empire is relying on aliens," Mortis commented, and the Battlemaster realized that he had no idea what had happened.

"How much do you remember?" Sana asked slowly. "Your recent memories."

"Oddly fuzzy," he said, as if realizing that. "I remember fighting, I was…injured…yes, you healed me. I remember you were there," he pointed to the Battlemaster. "I assume I was placed in stasis until I recovered."

So he didn't remember anything. The question was now how to break it to him. "You've been gone a long time," the Battlemaster finally said, deciding to be blunt. "Sana will tell you later. We lost, the Empire is gone. The Imperator gathered a small number of us and placed us in stasis to survive it. Ever since we've been working to rebuild and prepare for their return," he motioned to Yang. "Hence why we are working with aliens."

"The Imperator?" He looked at Sana. "Which one? How could we lose…" he trailed off.

"I'll tell you later," Sana said. "But right now we're in a precarious situation. We're trapped on a station where a rogue Ethereal is trying to kill us."

"What?"

"And we need to get to her before things get worse," the Battlemaster continued. "Sorry for waking you up, but…well, it's a long story. But we're in need of your skills."

Mortis looked down at his hands. "I see. Well, not exactly, but I trust both of you. Explain to me on the way, and I'll kill anything that dares try and attack us." His tone turned dark. "Especially if we have lost everything."

"Not to interject in what I'm sure is an important conversation," Yang interrupted. "But I can't understand anything."

"Apologies, Miss Shuren," Sana said, as she placed two fingers to Mortis's head. "It would be beneficial if you could understand the Human."

"I suppose," Mortis took a step towards her. "Interesting specimen. Psionic? Impressive. I can see why our species is interested in them. Can she fight well?"

"I can speak," she answered. "And well enough."

"Five fingers like us? Fascinating coincidence," he continued. "Is there a whole planet full of them?"

"Unfortunately," the Battlemaster sighed. "The situation is…complicated."

"And will be discussed later," Sana said as she moved to the Zudjari stasis pod. "We have another alien to talk to."

"What is this?" Mortis asked, confused as he found his proper clothing and began donning it. "How many aliens are working with you?"

"Technically we're not 'working' with this species," the Battlemaster corrected as the crystalline structure of the pod began to retract as was expected of Zudjari technology. "The last time we woke one up, it tried to betray us."

"I assume it didn't go well for them?"

"No."

The Zudjari adjusted almost immediately, and once he stood, froze, eyes rapidly blinking as it appraised the situation. It wasn't attacking, which was…good. Yang gave a brief wave, and Sana raised a hand and touched her head, then pointed at him. The Zudjari nodded once, and she did the same transfer of language she had done with Mortis.

The Zudjari shook his head, before focusing on them. "This tongue…is strange. Mouth not suited."

"You will adjust," the Battlemaster said. "Others of your species have."

"Others," he looked around. "What are you? Where am I?"

"Right now you are trapped," the Battlemaster motioned around with a bloody sword. "As are all of us. We needed help, and from how Mu'ut Jeen described you, you are a powerful psion."

The Zudjari visibly perked up at that. "Assimilator Jeen lives? Excellent."

"No, he doesn't," the Battlemaster interrupted. "He made the mistake of attacking us, and is now dead. He is the reason you are here and not at the Forge." The vertical mouth of the alien opened and closed several times. "You are Axis, correct? You were one of the few who were named."

"Axis…" the alien paused. "That will suffice, for now. I will demand the full story, but I see and sense that this situation is precarious. But I must know…does Origin yet live?"

"Yes, but he is away and has not been awakened," the Battlemaster said. "We did not want a repeat incident."

Axis closed his eyes in clear relief. "Then I am content for now. Allow me to prepare, and I will assist in this conflict I find myself in."

"I assume you're going to be useful?" Yang asked.

If Axis had questions about another alien, he didn't share them. "I am an Axis of the Zudjari Mosaic. Only the Origin can surpass my power, alien."

"Then prepare," the Battlemaster said. "This will not be an easy fight."

"What is the plan?" Mortis asked, as he finished putting on his own gear.

"We fight to the center of this place," the Battlemaster said, turning to the exit. "And then we kill the Creator."

A/N: So, some of you may have questions about what is actually going on in this place and how everything happened or got to this point without much warning before this chapter. The next chapter will definitely answer some of these questions, but there is a significant amount of extra backstory/lore here that isn't going to be discussed anytime. Most of anything to do with Paradise, the Creator, or Bringer was not originally conceptualized by me, but by Edumesh, one of my editors who put an absurd amount of work into it.

Because I wouldn't want his work to go to waste, I asked if he'd be interested in doing a supplementary companion piece detailing everything else regarding the Bringer and Paradise, and he said yes. So there is now a new additional piece of supplementary material answering questions you may or may not want answers to. The Chronicles of Salvation is now posted, and can be accessed on my profile, Edumesh's, and the story page itself.

- Xabiar