The Darkening Skies

War Room 16, Collective Mars Base – Mars

2/14/2017 – 10:11 A.M.

The thing that stood before him was not Human. It certainly looked Human, with flawless pale skin, expertly combed and lush black hair, glittering ice-blue eyes, and a full smile. The obvious irregularities were that it wore just a simple black skinsuit with a blade of some type strapped to the chest.

What gave it away was how it moved. It had a habit of changing gaits frequently, and each was of an immediate mechanical precision. It was like it was learning how to walk at times. It spoke in a voice which could only be described as dead. Toneless, flat, and even genderless, which had certainly been an unpleasant surprise when he'd introduced himself.

It didn't help that he would occasionally – and near-perfectly – switch into various Human accents without warning.

Volk hated that.

Elena had similarly picked up on his alien nature as instantly as she'd figured out Asaru was a telepathic projection. And if anything, she was more disturbed by it. Volk knew perfectly well that "Nemo" as he called himself was not his original name, and found the idea that he was naming himself after the captain of the Nautilus odd, but it was the only thing he could think of.

There was no way this alien had chosen this name because of a movie about fish.

"The Collective is preparing to strike," Nemo said in his dead voice, standing up straight as they walked in. "China is suffering an outbreak of smallpox, and once the optimum time has been reached, they will strike against them. This will draw ADVENT into the conflict fully."

Volk grimaced. "I'd thought that the Collective wasn't going to use bioweapons like that, or at least not against civilians."

Nemo simply shrugged. "Isomnum and the Imperator have overruled the Battlemaster in this instance. I would put the blame on the illustrious Dread Lord rather than Asaru. Knowing what I have seen of your species and ADVENT, they will bring the situation under control. The Ethereals have a tendency to underestimate your species, something we will not make the same mistake of doing."

It was somewhat flattering how…oddly high of an opinion Nemo had of Humanity, and conversely how much he didn't care about the Ethereals. He'd flat out commended Volk for his initial warning that bringing Agent Gertrude back was a bad idea and stated his intention – with Asaru in the room – that he was not going to follow "Orders which hinder or are to the detriment of our goal".

Volk wondered where this alien had been the entire time. Either he was a risk, and would explain why the Ethereals were hesitant to use him – or things were bad enough that they were bringing out all the stops to defeat ADVENT.

In the case of Nemo, both could very well be true.

"What is your plan?" Elena wasted no time, clearly wanting to get this done as quickly as possible.

"The Phantom Division – as well as you and your team – is now part of a Collective unit assigned to locate and eliminate strategic individuals in pursuit of the goals of the Ethereal Collective," Nemo answered evenly, then tilted his head. "In simpler terms – we are infiltrators, saboteurs and assassins. We are given a list of targets, and we will kill them. Only individuals with direct ties to our mission will be targeted – no collateral damage against the civilian population. I know how you work, and we both agree that the dismantling of our actual enemy is more effective – preferably if they don't even know it was us."

Volk gave a single nod. "So, the same thing we had planned before things went down. I can get behind that. I think we were already given some preliminary targets-"

"Dismissed, the parameters have changed," Nemo interrupted immediately. "Korea can be dealt with later. We have more immediate targets which will emerge when the conflict restarts."

"What are they?" Elena demanded, walking towards the holotable which Nemo lit up.

"There are multiple military industrial plants within China," Nemo stated. "Our initial deployment will be to sabotage them and render them unusable for China. Infrastructure in China is itself a very tempting target, and the more damage done, the less likely their resistance will be. That will be the first operation. Simple and straightforward."

"Noted," Volk said.

"Good, then we move onto the second phase," Nemo brought up a holomap of Africa. "The Sovereign African States will soon be making their official debut, and we are expecting a quick and decisive response. There will likely be a domino effect of countries who will, and will not support them. Or even those who remain neutral."

Nemo focused directly on Volk. "Those who are neutral or refuse to join the SAS are going to be targeted, and pinned on ADVENT. We will repeat this as necessary to drive countries towards the SAS and Collective. We will end with the tragic assassination of Helsa Betos."

"What?" Volk demanded. "When was that sanctioned? Betos is helping you. That is a promise you should not go back on because-"

"Betos is a naïve, if useful idiot whose purported usefulness is coming to an end," Nemo interrupted coldly, lifting a hand. "No, this was not sanctioned by the Ethereals and I have placed her as a target on my own. The Ethereals are not fighting strategically, and I am not beholden to their own internal plans. Betos is more of a liability than an asset. Thus, she will be removed."

"And what happens when Macula learns your plan?" Volk demanded. "You do realize that this essentially throws any promise the Ethereals make into the fire. None of us can trust anything they say anymore – or at least we trust them less than usual."

"I did not make that promise, and I am not an Ethereal," Nemo answered, unconcerned. "I am here to end this conflict. If that involves going back on previous promises, then that is not my concern. If you have an issue with my plan, then by all means inform Asaru or Macula. I do not necessarily care how Betos is removed, only that she is. This is judged to be the path which benefits the Collective the most."

"You'd best hope that they won't be annoyed with you trying this," Volk said. "Because I'm not keeping this to myself. The Ethereals don't seem to like it when people bypass them."

"Then perhaps they should do a better job," Nemo said, giving a chilling smile. "I do not fear the Ethereals. They are not infallible and make many mistakes. And the only way they will learn is to be challenged. So I will challenge them to do better than I can do. If they wish to dispose of me, then they can do so and will ultimately be defeated by their own hubris."

Volk appraised him for a moment, then shook his head. "You're either crazy or just don't care anymore."

"I am not supposed to exist," the tone of Nemo became less dead…more muted. "As far as I am concerned, every moment I am alive is more than should be possible. If I die, then my role will be finished and I will not be alive to care what happens afterwards. But I suspect I will not die to an Ethereal, not when I am useful to them. And when I can do things they cannot or will not."

He waved them forward. "Come. At minimum I want your own take on the current plan, even if you insist on informing the Ethereals of the finer details."

Yang's Quarters - The Prism

2/27/2017 – 11:42 A.M.

Yang sheathed her swords and placed them back on the rack where she kept her weapons. At least today she'd kept them more for her own personal reassurance than out of any need. Patricia had continued helping develop her mental defenses, which while they wouldn't be at the absurd level that she and other Ethereals had…they would probably be adequate.

What had been more interesting had been Patricia herself.

The woman had actually chosen a side.

"You can stop wondering what I'm going to be doing," she'd told her. "I'm staying. I'm going to support the Imperator."

Yang had been admittedly surprised. It didn't seem an absurd reason to follow up with a question: "Why?"

Patricia…she had appraised Yang long and hard, lips pursed and eyes probing. "The Imperator told me some things," she finally said. "And…what happened to XCOM is what I'd feared. I'd accomplish nothing returning now, which would only result in my capture or death."

There were only a few possibilities that came to mind. "The Sovereign One on Earth."

"Yes," came the nod. "T'Leth."

Patricia had seemed somewhat distracted as well; more listless and…sad…than before. Not surprising if she'd made the decision to turn traitor on XCOM. Yang didn't really care about abandoning a species and government which had done nothing for her, but for Patricia it would have been different. She had friends; she'd respected her Commander, Yang was pretty sure she'd been involved with one of the XCOM soldiers as well.

He was going to be in for a surprise when he learned his girlfriend joined the enemy.

She did kind of feel bad for him, whoever he was.

It remained to be seen just what the results would be of Patricia fully joining them. She'd been part of the Internal Council of XCOM. She knew everything up until several months ago. Yang realized that there was an extreme amount of information that could be released to the world, as XCOM (and likely ADVENT) had been involved in some highly questionable stuff.

For all the good it would do. Yang was personally unsure if they'd even bother with trying that. No one was going to believe an XCOM soldier who had turned traitor. Psionics did unfortunately make it easy to simply state that someone was being mind controlled. The Imperator was known as the most powerful Ethereal in existence.

If anyone could break the mind of the most powerful Human psion in existence, it would be him.

Patricia could probably say anything and ADVENT would just deny it, or more likely, 'refuse to acknowledge the words of a traitor'. She could say that XCOM was manipulating ADVENT from the shadows or that they were performing assassinations and operations to destabilize or infiltrate other nations to drive them to ADVENT and no one would believe her.

Because unfortunately, Yang suspected that Patricia hadn't brought any actual evidence with her – which was perhaps the one thing ADVENT would listen to. As it stood, anything she said was suspect, for the word of a traitor was not to be trusted.

That being said, Yang would find it hilarious if the Oversight Division decided to investigate anyway and ended up bringing down the ADVENT leadership. That would be so deliciously ironic she would actually make sure that they were preserved whenever the Collective won. Anyone that dedicated deserved to live.

But were the Oversight Division, Peacekeepers, or ADVENT Intelligence going to investigate based on Patricia? Almost certainly not, and to be fair, she didn't really fault them. It wasn't as though the Collective was open and honest about what they were involved in. No one involved in Paradise was going to be punished, and Isomnum still existed, which was proof of the immunity the powerful in the Collective had.

But she would think about that more later. Her own trial on the Dead World was fast approaching, and while the unnerving feeling and terror about going to any place which had the presence of the Bringer hadn't gone away, she felt she was strong enough. The Battlemaster believed she could do it.

So she knew she had the potential.

She'd spent time researching and talking with Cogitian about the Trial of the Battlemasters, and for the most part had learned close to nothing about what it entailed beyond that one had to go down to the planet, forge their weapons from the metals, and then leave. Deceptively simple, but had a dangerous enough reputation that only the strongest made an attempt.

It was...daunting…as she'd looked at the records of the dead Ethereals. Aliens who'd spent decades training and preparing, only to still fail. And she'd only been here for…not even a year. She was a fast learner, and fairly smart and dedicated. But that alone was probably not enough, at least not in those categories compared to an Ethereal.

But she did have one advantage – she had a pretty solid idea of what she would face. The Battlemaster candidates had seemed to focus on the wrong thing. They'd prepared for the physical, when almost everything indicated that the trial was of a mental nature. She knew the Bringer was somewhere on the planet, and she could prepare for that.

Or try, at least.

If she succeeded, she would be the first alien to complete a trial meant for Ethereals. She would take a place by the side of the Battlemaster as – if not his equal – the closest one could become. She would become one of the most dangerous Humans who could exist, as it was implied that this trial was also the result of the Battlemaster's immunity to telepathy.

And if she failed, she would just die.

Fair enough.

But she did not intend to die.

Though admittedly, that's what they all said.

Beijing – China

2/24/2017 – 10:12 A.M.

As far as glorified photo ops went, this was by far one of the most unpleasant. Admittedly, there had been some pushback from her cabinet about her personally visiting the current epicenter of an epidemic, but there were good reasons she'd gone forward with the trip anyway. The first was obviously good PR; the people liked unity and solidarity, and a public showing of support with her physically going there, it would show that she was paying more than lip service.

Although the deployment of soldiers and medical personnel should have already done that.

Second, they knew what the disease was – and more importantly – that it was able to be vaccinated against. Theoretically she should have a high degree of immunity to infection, and even if she, by some unfortunate miracle, got infected, the disease typically only killed the sick and weak. She was in good physical shape, healthy, and vaccinated. She was sufficiently protected. Not to mention that she would, of course, be taking appropriate precautions with masks and hazard suits.

It was bulky and unwieldy, not to mention paranoid, but that was the compromise she'd reached with her cabinet.

Third, it was an opportunity to meet with Qin directly and coordinate and discuss the situation face to face. Those kind of meetings were preferable to her, and he would be sure to inform her of the full extent of the situation. ADVENT itself had been careful in distributing information, largely reporting outbreak locations and travel advisories.

The numbers they were holding for now because they were still growing, and because they were growing uncomfortably large.

She didn't think it would cause panic, especially because it was in China and travel to and from there had been suspended, but it certainly wouldn't do any wonders for morale. Unfortunate that this had struck now, since morale was surprisingly at an all time high under ADVENT. But things couldn't stay the same forever.

The trip was still unpleasant. While she wasn't a squeamish person – she doubted she would be able to function in her position if she was – seeing the effects of the disease as it ravaged the bodies of the infected was more visceral in person than even in the pictures she remembered seeing as a child which described the military applications of viral bioweapons.

Rashes which morphed into hundreds of bumps covered the entire skin of victims, making many of them unrecognizable or in severe cases blinding them or causing further complications due to where the rashes developed. Even the survivors would be scarred and marked for the rest of their life, but already there had been many who'd simply just not made it.

There had been far too many small body bags from the single treatment center she'd visited.

"How many in the government are infected?" She asked Qin as they walked into one of the medical research centers which was working on both a treatment and determining the best way to predict and quarantine further outbreaks.

"I assume you mean important officials?" He asked with a sideways look. "Our government employs many people. But only twenty individuals of note have been infected. They are currently recovering and are expected to survive. We acted fast when this happened, and inoculated our staff and military."

"And how much has the military been affected?"

This time he didn't look at her. "We're looking at minimum several hundred thousand affected, with more cases appearing every day. Vaccines are being administered as fast as possible, but considering how long the disease has been allowed to propagate, I am unsure how effective it will be. The good news is that there have been comparably few deaths, as most of our soldiers are in decent health."

"But that is still a blow," she nodded. "And only going to get worse."

"Which can sum up this entire situation," Qin agreed. "It is going to get worse before it gets better. What of your end, Chancellor? Have your countries encountered similar outbreaks?"

"Comparably few, and they've been mostly isolated," Saudia said. "They still number in the dozens, but we've been proactive on our end with vaccine distribution. We can't rely on people seeing what's going on in the news or online. Door to door visits have been conducted in areas near an outbreak. So far, it's seemed to help contain the spread."

"Much like what we are doing," Qin confirmed as they rounded a corner. "Although the number of individuals is…significantly larger than what you have to deal with. Although you have to deal with the scientifically illiterate; the West is home to some interesting conspiracy theories."

Saudia snorted. "Unfortunately. But it hasn't been a significant problem. If those fools would rather risk it, then we let them. However, their ignorance will not extend to others. The few idiots who've demanded as such have shut up when Child Services began to intervene." Saudia allowed a smile. "But it has been useful, as they will now have special monitoring from Intelligence in case they try and use the internet to 'warn' others about the smallpox vaccines."

"I do not understand why you tolerate individuals such as those," Qin shook his head. "Dangerous misinformation is corrected by swift and decisive arrests. Ignorance in this age is little excuse."

"Because first, we try not to play into the image of a stereotypical totalitarian," Saudia answered with some bleak amusement. "Arresting idiots has the unfortunate effect of spreading their message. But more importantly, they still have their personal rights. Which include the right to hold an opinion. So long as that stays to themselves, they can believe whatever they want. When it affects others is where the line is drawn. A suitable compromise, I feel."

"Indeed," the two of them finally approached a window which had several teams of researchers and scientists within. "We're continuing to try and find an effective treatment. But progress is…slow. By the time something is developed, it's estimated that the worst will have already passed and only the survivors will remain."

"Even if that is the case," Saudia said. "It will not be for nothing. We are back to base zero with smallpox. It will take decades to fully eradicate. Again. This will ensure that now there is a reliable treatment."

"A long view of the outcome, I can respect such," Qin nodded. "Yet that will not change the fact that my country will be significantly damaged because of it while others will no longer have to fear this disease. A sacrifice I would have not paid, in all honesty."

She wouldn't blame him for the resentment he had. Already there were millions of Chinese infected, and hundreds of additional cases by the hour. Soon the thousands who had already died would turn into millions. With a country the size of China, that was unfortunately inevitable, but there was no chance that China was going to emerge from this in good shape.

"It is unfortunate," was all she said. "But we are doing what we can to assist."

"Not by sheer altruism though," he said grimly. "I suspect after this, there will be a call to join ADVENT from in and outside the government. You've certainly had your people be involved on the ground level. It isn't just our soldiers and security they see; but also the ADVENT medics and soldiers. They will not forget that, nor will anyone in our government."

"And you see the benefits of what we can provide," she said, turning to him. "Humanity is more effective united than divided. Our species has an unfortunate tendency to isolate ourselves from each other and be selfish when their rivals are undergoing hardship. It does not need to be this way."

"I am well aware of such, Chancellor," Qin said, lifting a hand. "Very acutely. But let's not delude ourselves in this situation. This is a political and PR move to assist us, not because you actually care about the people infected. The more conspiratorial would wonder if this was manufactured solely to encourage us to join you."

"Come now," Saudia sniffed. "We have zero reason to sabotage you in such a way, not to mention painting a clear and decisive target for the aliens, which will only result in more of our soldiers dying, resources expanded, and all to reclaim territory that was already in Human hands."

"That is what some would say, Chancellor, not me," Qin clarified. "The point is this: You play the game very well, Chancellor, in a way few can condemn you for. That makes you dangerous to me, and I am unconvinced someone like that is the best choice to direct our species."

"And I am curious as to the alternative?" She answered evenly. "You?"

He actually smiled at that. "Of course not. I am a product of this charged and political age. I am more of the opinion that having a singular directed government which has not been agreed upon by other independent nations is a dangerous direction to take Humanity. There needs to be checks and balances to naturally move in such a direction. The United States and European Union served as checks to us, and we to them. There was, of course, continued competition on a geopolitical level, but we prevented major conflicts for decades."

"And it was slow; pointless," Saudia shook her head. "Humanity will never unite the way you think it will. We're too independent and susceptible to outside manipulation and brainwashing. The only way Humanity will unite is if they are dragged kicking and screaming along the way. And considering the amount of resistance there is to ADVENT, this has very much proven to be true."

"Touché, Chancellor," he inclined his head. "But of course, the ideals that you and ADVENT espouse are not shared by the rest of our species. Perhaps you are right, perhaps not, but it doesn't matter what everyone else wants. What ADVENT wants is the only thing that matters."

"Prove you can do better, and we will consider it," Saudia said. "But we don't begin with the notion that all opinions and ideas are equal or worth debating. Some things are fact, others are rooted in idealism, naivety, and dogma. Those are not, nor should be tolerated in the war we find ourselves in."

She looked back into the lab, her hands clasped behind her back. "But as to what you imply, I know that ADVENT will one day represent the entire Human race. Not today, a month, or even years from now, but it will happen. But I do not intend it to be a violent seizure or to leverage our power on the dying independent world. They will join us, because they want to." She looked over towards Qin again. "And if they see us helping their people and supporting them even when they are not part of us, is it wrong of them to want to be a part of what we do?"

"Only if they've considered what they want to lose."

"Perhaps," Saudia said. "But I find that these kinds of decisions show the true character of a leader. The difference between one who is actually interested in the well being of their citizens, or one interested in holding on to their waning power."

A corner of his lip turned up. "An interesting implication, Chancellor. A little too binary for my tastes."

"Regardless," Saudia replied, without looking to him. "When this situation is resolved and you make your own recommendation, I hope you remember both who helped you – and what you wish your legacy to be."

The two world leaders stood in silence for a few minutes afterwards, simply watching the teams inside work hastily to develop a treatment to the epidemic that was proving to be a pivotal catalyst.

Office of the Commander, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/22/2017 – 1:35 P.M.

This certainly necessitated an unplanned meeting of the Internal Council. The Commander did have to give T'Leth some credit – at least he was keeping him informed.

That did not mean he was making good decisions.

"So let me get this straight," Creed was shooting daggers into the Chronicler who merely met his gaze at the sight of the furious soldier. "Patricia tries to contact someone here. Maybe the Commander, maybe me. She is stopped by you. She asks to talk to the Commander to maybe clear up whatever lies the Imperator's been telling her, and T'Leth refused?"

"Of course he did," the Chronicler's tone was measured in calm. "Patricia was very clearly compromised in some way. Letting her communicate further was an extremely dangerous risk."

"Do you even know if she was compromised?"

"Unfortunately," Aegis interjected slowly. "I fear the Chronicler is correct. That kind of communication is not easy to achieve, and something Patricia had no previous knowledge of. The Imperator would not have permitted this unless he knew it would not affect her, though I fear that T'Leth's refusal has played right into his hands."

"It certainly didn't help," Creed jabbed a finger at the Chronicler. "Did T'Leth think about how that would look to her? And that was not his call to make in the first place!"

"Correct," the Commander spoke for the first time, turning a stern face to the Chronicler. "That was not T'Leth's call. I'm not ignorant enough to believe that he couldn't have had you inform us of the situation and allowed us to decide it. This is the first we've heard about Patricia in months. Any decision related to her needs to first go through me."

"I will convey that to T'Leth," the man inclined his head. "But at the same time-"

"At the same time, you can kindly shut up," Creed interjected.

"Quiet," now Zhang stepped forward, stoic as ever. "While I agree with the Commander that we should have been informed about this, T'Leth did nothing wrong. We've been warned thanks to Aegis –" he nodded to the Ethereal in the room. "That Patricia is in serious danger of being compromised by the Imperator. Much as we don't want to accept it, that is the reality. To let her enter without checking the truth of this is a catastrophic risk."

"Couldn't T'Leth have just broken into her mind to check himself?" Jackson asked, looking to the Chronicler. "One Human woman can't be stronger than a Sovereign One."

"Bad idea," Creed shook his head. "You'd spook her and she'd leave."

"More to the point, that is an arguably worse outcome," the Commander agreed. "You're talking about a woman who made a specific point to not read the minds of people without their consent. T'Leth ignoring that would reflect badly. Of course, this cuts both ways, which was why she didn't want a Sovereign to read her own mind."

"Most likely because the Imperator has filled her head with propaganda about the Sovereigns," the Chronicler muttered. "Typical."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "From what T'Leth has told me, I don't blame her. T'Leth's brethren are not exactly paragons of virtue, nor apparently do much to dissuade people from their preconceptions. T'Leth may be different, but the other Sovereigns are still manipulative and dangerous."

The Chronicler's lips twitched. "Fair point."

"Patricia's issue was that she was relying on trust," Zhang speculated, crossing his arms. "She had to know that wouldn't work here. She's a possible risk now-"

"No offense, Zhang, but you don't know her that well," Creed interrupted, shaking his head. "She had no idea that T'Leth had set up his little mental fortress over the Praesidium. When she wants to learn about something, she goes to the source. She probably intended to go directly to the Commander, and get answers that way. She wasn't thinking about protocol, she was trying to find a reason…" he suddenly trailed off. "Oh no."

"I warned you about this," Aegis said, resigned if not saddened. "The Imperator took her for a reason. He has likely convinced her to, if not join him, cooperate willingly with his plans. She was lost the moment he spoke to her. There is nothing you could have said to her that would have convinced her otherwise; the Imperator is too intelligent for that."

"And because our Sovereign 'ally' didn't bother to tell us, I suppose we'll never know, will we?" Creed snarled, primarily directed at the Chronicler. "No. If she was still trying to get answers, she isn't completely gone. She can be brought back."

"She's likely had little to no contact with other Humans," Vahlen noted. "Spending any significant amount of time with aliens will make one more amenable and sympathetic to them, especially if they are treated well. It may be as simple as Patricia needing to be returned to some degree of normalcy."

"I agree that we shouldn't mark her off as completely lost," the Commander agreed. "We need to find her – and talk to her. Assaulting the Temple Ship will be impossible, yes, but at some point – if what you believe is accurate, Aegis – he will use her on Earth. That is when we go to her and bring her back."

"No." Zhang disputed flatly, his tone leaving no room for dispute. "If Patricia ever directly acts against XCOM or ADVENT, then she needs to be eliminated. She is extremely dangerous if allied with them, and it will shatter morale, not considering that she knows some very important truths about what we've done and the formation of ADVENT itself. We can't risk her becoming an out of control element."

"She was one of us, and has been under the corruptive influence of the most powerful Ethereal in existence," the Commander reminded all of them. "Even now Creed still thinks she's resisting because she knows that it's wrong, but when her only source is the Imperator or other Ethereals? Her mindset is going to be warped. It's not her fault, not completely."

"That would only apply if she's mind controlled," Zhang stated. "Aegis, you've said this is something the Imperator doesn't do?"

"Not when he is attempting to persuade an individual of something," the Ethereal answered. "He considers resorting to mind control as…failure. A cheat which is unworthy of the command he now has. With this said…his aura will have shaped her to be more amenable, though she is a powerful telepath, so it was likely muted. No, this will be worse. She will join him of her own free will."

"Patricia is not some naïve little girl," Zhang continued. "She knows the situation she's in. She's an extremely logical and methodical person. The Imperator doesn't use mind control. She's likely had opportunity to refute him or refuse to help, but very likely has not. Regardless of her decisions, they are her decisions, and she shouldn't be treated as the victim here."

"Have we considered that she's lying?" Shen spoke up for the first time. "I sincerely doubt the Imperator would have just allowed her to walk away if she refused. She's not the type to martyr herself for nothing, what if this is her trying to convince the Imperator she is an ally, who will then turn on him when she is sent to Earth?"

There was silence around the room as they considered that.

"Could that be done, Aegis?" The Commander asked.

The Ethereal considered it carefully. "In…theory. The Imperator could easily fall into the trap of pride. He is so convinced of his own beliefs that having someone who similarly understood would be reassuring to him, and he would begin to trust in a way. But it would be a…dangerous line to tread upon. The Imperator will be suspicious if she agrees too easily, and too much skepticism or refusal will lead to him simply imprisoning her. She would need to be both extremely clever and lucky. But it…could be possible. The Imperator is not immune to that type of manipulation."

"She could do it," Creed stated immediately. "She knows what's at stake, and she knows how the Imperator works."

"Until we know for sure, I don't want to put any kill orders out for her," the Commander said. "I also don't really believe she'd turn on us; not with everything that's happened."

Zhang pursed his lips. "People change. Patricia in particular is susceptible to a well-reasoned argument."

"I want us to come to a clear consensus on this," the Commander leaned on his desk, looking around the room at all of them. "Patricia could be compromised. But she could also be playing the part so she can eventually escape. I personally don't think we should give up on her until we have clear reason to do so, and we haven't hit that point yet."

"Our decisions should not be decided around what's best for her, but what's best for XCOM," Zhang said. "If you're wrong, if we're wrong, we're going to get soldiers killed. Treating her as friendly until proven otherwise is likely to get people killed. Do we want to do that?"

"He isn't wrong," Iosif agreed. "I want to bring Patricia back as much as everyone, but if she isn't on our side, I can guarantee that she's going to be able to kill people easily. And this isn't taking into account skills the Imperator or other Ethereals may have taught her. If she's learned long-distance telepathic communication, what else has she learned?"

"How about a compromise?" Creed stepped forward. "We make the intent to capture her, not kill her. She's not an idiot, if she's on our side she'll know what we're doing. We make a demand for her to surrender. If she does, we bring her back and debrief her." He paused, before resuming slowly. "If she refuses…we kill her."

Zhang gave a single nod. "Acceptable. We would know quickly if she complies or not."

"You'll have us as well to assist," the Chronicler said. "We have an interest in removing her from the Imperator's control, and helping her understand that T'Leth's rejection wasn't personal."

"Then that will be our objective," the Commander confirmed. "Until that point…if anyone receives any contact from Patricia, or someone claiming to be her or know anything about her, that goes directly to me. That goes for T'Leth as well. Is that understood by everyone?"

"Yes, Commander," they all confirmed.

"In the meantime, we've got other work to do," he nodded. "Dismissed."

Barracks, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/24/2017 – 7:19 P.M.

Nuan set aside her tablet and just stared blankly forward for a few minutes. At least her superiors were keeping her updated as her country continued collapsing. The infection tolls were staggering, and the death tolls continued to climb. The actual extent of the deaths wasn't being shared publicly, a move that both the Chinese and ADVENT were in surprising agreement on.

To her utter lack of surprise, most of the government leaders seemed to be fine – probably been immunized as soon as cases started appearing, but everyone else was more or less screwed unless they were in a prioritized position. Doctors, military, and scientists had priority for immediate vaccination, and the regular citizens had to wait their turn.

Practically, this was the smart thing to do. The structure of order needed to be preserved, which would be admitted be more difficult if half the government was incapacitated, the military was crippled, and the doctors were weakened. Granted, that was happening anyway since the disease had been in circulation for possibly weeks beforehand, but its spread was going to be limited in those areas.

At least everyone in XCOM was immunized, for all the good that did them.

A knock on the doorframe to the empty barracks room distracted her. She looked up to see Iosif leaning in, a questioning look on his face. "You alright?"

She wasn't, not really, and that was probably something he sensed. She should be used to it by now, but at times like this it still caught her off guard. In a way, she appreciated that she couldn't pretend. Nuan waved him in and he took a seat beside her. Off-duty, so he wasn't wearing his armor and probably hadn't come from training.

"You probably know what's going on in China more than I do," she said, shrugging. "My superiors are keeping me up to date as well."

He nodded. "It's bad."

"Yes."

A pause. "Both of my parents are infected," she said flatly. "Grandparents too. Everyone lives in Beijing, which is ground zero for where this supposedly started."

"Oh," he answered slowly. "I'm sorry Nuan, that's awful." He scowled. "Putting it lightly. I don't know what else to say. Will they pull through?"

"My parents probably will," she said, the brief bit of good news she'd received. "They'll be scarred and endure a few more days of hell, but they're expected to live. My grandparents though…" she shook her head. "Grandfather will probably pull through, my grandmother passed away earlier today. Not surprising; she had some previous health issues and was older. Supposedly a lethal combination for smallpox."

Iosif gave a single nod. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Accepted," she shrugged again. "I guess I'm luckier than most. At least most of my family is still alive. Others aren't so lucky."

"Everyone is working on a cure," Iosif said. "From what I've heard, it may be ready in a few weeks."

"And by then it'll mean nothing," Nuan said, a bitter truth she'd come to accept. And something the PLA had also come to the conclusion of. Everyone knew that a cure or treatment would only prevent the next epidemic, not this one. "The damage is done. It'll take years to recover if we're lucky."

He didn't dispute it.

"What are we going to do?"

"About what?" Iosif questioned.

"Come on," she snorted. "We both know what's going on. This was a deliberate attack by the aliens, probably to weaken China before an attack. There is no way this is an accident. So what are we going to do about it in response?"

"Right now?" He sighed, looking down. "Nothing, Nuan. At least not explicitly. There is – technically – nothing which links this to the Collective-"

"So a dead disease just so happened to spring up out of nowhere in the most populous country in the world?" She asked. "Which just so happens to be one the most strategically important countries on Earth that – since it's not part of ADVENT – is even more vulnerable than normal? This is all just a massive coincidence?! Just bad luck?"

"Nuan…" he paused, before continuing. "I'm in agreement that it's suspicious at best. But ADVENT isn't going to accuse the Collective of something they can't prove, nor are the Chinese from what I've gathered. Trust me, you're not alone in thinking the aliens have a hand in this, but there is the possibility that this is just bad luck. Not everything has the aliens behind it. Sometimes disasters just…happen."

His tone didn't convince her, and he clearly wasn't convincing himself either. "You don't believe that," she accused softly. "No one believes that. But everyone isn't calling it out for some reason. ADVENT has their rules, fine. China wants to play nice with ADVENT, so they follow suit. But XCOM? Why isn't the Commander saying something? He's not part of ADVENT, we aren't part of ADVENT."

"And what would making accusations accomplish?" Iosif pursed his lips. "What should be our response to this? Should we be the ones to break the stalemate and retaliate violently? Invade the West Coast, Canada, or Australia? Create a virus which kills them like smallpox infects us?"

She flexed her arms, causing them to whirr. The sounds they made were satisfying at times. "It would be a start."

He nodded. "And what if you're wrong?"

"Then the aliens begin hurting a lot," she answered. "They become more despised for what they did. Forgive me for not caring about their feelings or them being slandered. Of course they're just going to deny it, but their denials mean nothing."

"We have enough reasons to hate the Collective," Iosif cautioned. "We don't need to lie to do so."

"Then don't lie," she said. "Just imply. Lay out the series of coincidences that led to this point. That isn't a lie."

"But it is an accusation," he pointed out. "Which to many people, will be seen the same as absolute proof."

"It just…" she searched for the words. "It feels wrong to just do nothing. It's like watching a criminal walk free even though you know they committed the crime, but were smart enough not to leave provable evidence. Letting that happen is just not right."

"I agree, but things may still change," Iosif said. "We'll have plenty of time to kick the Collective in the teeth, for crimes real and implied. ADVENT will help China recover and a treatment will be developed. Not to prevent this epidemic, no, but it will help prevent a future one."

"Until the Collective digs up some other old disease," she suggested dryly.

"I think that we're going to be prepared in case this happens again," Iosif suggested knowingly, allowing a slight smile. "The ADVENT vaccine programs are going to be getting some special attention."

"Hopefully," she agreed. "And the rest of the world should follow suit."

"Oh, I think they will," he said. "ADVENT leads, and other countries follow, even if they grumble along the way."

Fort Nelson Outskirts, Alberta – Canada

2/10/2017 – 6:18 P.M.

It was, unfortunately, more or less what he'd expected.

"Yeah." Cycelea grunted from her prone position as she observed the small fortified town. "We're not breaching that anytime soon."

"Not with what we have right now," Neil agreed sourly. "I'm not in favor of suicide missions."

As they had expected, the Custodians had been able to update the rest of the Collective on what had happened and that there was an ADVENT kill team wandering the area, and to be prepared. That a Sargon had died because of them had probably bumped up the priority quite a bit, and as a result they were seeing the towns turn into impenetrable fortresses.

The shining black Custodians patrolled around the perimeter and stood near-motionless at designated guard posts, their heads moving back and forth as they scanned for enemies. Turrets of some kind had also been constructed around the entrances, and inside they had caught glimpses of Mutons and maybe some Vitakara.

There were a few civilians, but it was likely that they were only keeping them as hostages or to provide some kind of manual labor so that the Custodians didn't need to manage everything. Since there were Custodians, there was also a CODEX connection. The only good news he saw was that everything was fairly concentrated (it was a small town), and there weren't any Elites or Sargons in the mix.

Seekers were an open question.

"Thoughts?" Cycelea asked.

"Infiltration is going to be difficult," he said, knowing that it was extremely obvious, but it was more to get his thoughts in order. "Telepathy isn't going to be useful here. No Sargons or Elites, though likely a sizable Muton contingent. CODEX likely integrated. Which means…"

"The connection is a weak point," she finished, lifting the binoculars to her eyes again. "Take out the CODEX, the Custodians will be hampered and it will screw with coordination."

"Yes," Neil agreed. "The downside to this approach is that it only works very well in coordination with an actual attack."

"Of which we aren't exactly equipped for," she finished.

"Depends," Neil mused slowly, thinking. "There was an interesting project which was shared recently. The Night Witch bomber – a glider prototype that was impossible to detect through modern radar systems."

He could imagine Cycelea frowning under her helmet. "I know I've heard that name before."

"World War II Soviet air force bombers," Neil recalled. "All females, interestingly enough. Their tactics involved cutting their engines as they got closer to the target so it was more difficult to notice and detect them. They were impressive, and I guess someone in ADVENT liked the idea enough to apply today."

"Huh, neat," she lowered the binoculars. "Knowing ADVENT, it's going to be a little deadlier."

"I saw white phosphorus, chlorine-trifluoride, and thermite on the same page," Neil smirked under his helmet. "I would say so. If, for instance, we were able to call a few Night Witch bombers to make some coordinated strikes after we disabled the CODEX transmitter, I think we just might be able to take the town. Only one problem with that."

"Civilians," she immediately noted.

"The good news is there doesn't seem to be many," Neil continued. "That said, one of our goals is to extract as many people as possible, and we should at least make an effort to save them. But the other thing to consider is that we want whatever Sargon is in this area to pay a visit."

"Since we're not interested in infiltration…taking out a few patrols of Custodians might get their attention," she said. "We use that time to locate the CODEX transmitter, and when the Sargon comes, the bombs drop."

"Glad we're on the same page," Neil said. "I'll refine it and send it to Laura for approval. We'll need to have this prepared well ahead of time. And until then…we catalogue everything the Custodians do. They're machines, and that will make it easier to spot their patterns."

"Seekers may still be a problem," Cycelea pointed out as they moved to stand and retreat. "We need to be prepared should they be sent against us."

"I know, I know," Neil grunted as they began moving back, actions cloaked by the darkness of the night. "But don't worry. They're going to need to try a bit harder if they want to use that trick against us again."

Avatar Project Research Station – Classified Space

2/25/2017 – 6:10 P.M.

Things were going to move quickly now that she'd made her decision, and it was as expected. The first major development would be receiving Ethereal-grade genetic modifications, then undergoing the Avatar Project itself, which Revelean was explaining to her, with the Imperator standing behind them. The room they inhabited was circular in shape, not especially large, and with two highly computerized medical tables which could be adjusted to the occupants in question.

A small army of medical drones were stored around the room, the center of which was isolated from the rest of the room by glass. This clean room contained the majority of equipment and specialized tools. It wasn't especially daunting on it's own; if any discomfort was to be had, it was the knowledge of what the room was used for.

There had probably been a significant number of test subjects used to refine and improve the project. Revelean had supposedly utilized both Sectoids and Humans (both captive and cloned) by the hundreds before he had reached an iteration which was both effective and stable. The few successful Avatar prototypes she assumed had been disposed of.

Or maybe they were still stored…somewhere.

She wasn't wearing her normal clothing which she'd grown accustomed to during her stay, nor her Aegis armor. While the Imperator had said that she'd get specially made armor befitting of her rank in the future, for the surgery she was wearing the standard Avatar Project jumpsuit worn by the other test subjects.

All black, somewhat insulating and comfortable, and this one not having any armor pieces whatsoever on it. But footwear wasn't hardened, and was functionally more slip-on than anything, though it was much more flexible. The suit definitely felt clingy to her, and very much like she wasn't wearing that much at all. However, it was very easy to move around in.

"You've been appraised of the purpose of the Avatar Project," Revelean began. "So I will continue with explaining how the surgery will proceed once your body has been sufficiently prepared."

Mildly disturbing wording, but Revelean was clearly not the best at words. And wasn't technically wrong. It was recommended that for best results she undergo the genetic enhancements. Which did raise a question. "Will it conflict with the ones I've already received from XCOM?"

"Of course not," Revelean dismissed immediately. "We have been utilizing MELD far longer than your species. It will be altered and enhanced as needed. It is entirely possible that it might not be touched at all if XCOM did their job."

"Good," she said.

"And this is, of course, the time to make any recommendations if you wish," Revelean continued, turning to her. "I would prefer not to repeat this time-consuming and expensive project multiple times."

She frowned. "As in what way?"

"Appearance-wise, mostly," Revelean said. "You are, after all, going to be representing the Imperator. Impressions are important, and the capability for physical alteration is present. Human females in particular obsess over their appearance from my observations."

Patricia snorted.

"Nonetheless, the decision is up to you," Revelean finished, glancing to a nearby console. "The Imperator wished to provide you with the option."

"As Revelean said," the Imperator added from behind him. "If you wish for such a thing, it should be done now than later."

Hm. She considered it for a moment. She wasn't especially unhappy with how she looked now, nor did she really want to change anything or be turned into an unrecognizable supermodel. Even if that was possible, she liked how she looked right now and didn't really want to alter it significantly. Well…maybe there was one thing, but it didn't really relate to facial appearance.

"Maybe make me a bit taller," she suggested. "And proportionally balanced, obviously."

"Noted," Revelean said, typing briefly on a tablet he was holding. "I will work that into the procedure, and all final details will be repeated before you undergo it. We will move onto the actual Avatar Project procedure once you have been sufficiently prepared. How much do you know about the more intricate methods of the project?"

"Not a lot," she admitted.

"Expected," he said, half to himself it seemed, glancing at another screen in a hand. "In short, the Avatar Project creates the capability to establish a telepathic bond between an Avatar - yourself, and the Anchor – in this case the Imperator. This telepathic bond you have not likely experienced before."

"No," she confirmed.

"It will be disorienting at first, as both of the personalities merge and interact on that level," Revelean said, looking back to the Imperator. "This applies as well to you, Imperator. A bond such as this – while not explicitly like a full bond – will not be something you have experienced before."

"I have read sufficient material on psionic bonds and what happens during them," the Imperator said. "I am aware of the risks and consequences."

"Which mean very little in practice," Revelean shook his head. "There are certain realities both of you will need to accept and understand. Most notably that for all intents and purposes, when the bond is activated, you will need to function as a single entity. Over time there will be some degree of personality drift as both of you settle into an equilibrium. Your first times performing the bond will be debilitating, but you will get used to it."

"That severe?" Patricia frowned. "And invasive?"

"Necessary for the Avatar Project to work," Revelean said. "You will need to draw upon the Imperator's knowledge and experience, and that cannot be done if your minds are separate. I will note that the bond will go both ways. You will be able to know things about him as he will you – when bonded, you will not be able to keep secrets or restrictions for each other – nor will either of you be able to control a body. If you both fight each other, the body will simply be paralyzed and likely die." He glanced to the center of the room. "I assure you that I've seen this happen numerous times in testing. You are doing this voluntarily, so I suspect it will proceed easier."

Well…upsides and downsides to that. The Imperator would know everything about her, but in return, she could theoretically know the same. "But this isn't permanent."

"No, you will retain your own individual identities outside of combat and experimentation," Revelean said, activating a life-sized hologram before her. "Or at least that is what I expect. The bond will only be triggered when the Avatar performs a certain action or activates certain components. The Anchor is – in design – always programmed to be the source of power of knowledge. The guiding hand. Thus, they have no similar component."

The hologram Avatar had several highlighted marks around the face. "I will be installing these points to work in conjunction with your mask," he motioned to the faceless mask the Avatar wore. "You are unlikely to put it on accidentally, preventing unwanted activations. The mask will clip into cybernetic implants around your face and open your bond to the Imperator."

Looking closer at the hologram, Patricia could see an approximation of how that would go. The mask would hook under the chin, then be sealed into place by hooks along the edges of the jawline and top of the forehead, with some short arms that would rest on the top of the ears for some – largely unneeded – support.

"The points will be cosmetically hidden when not in combat," Revelean said. "Small nanite swarms will congregate and retreat smartly. You will also not feel any pain during this process. There should be no accidents here. Understand?"

She nodded once. "Yes."

"When the bond is activated, you in particular will need to prepare for an overwhelming surge of energy," Revelean warned. "This is normal, and it will take you time to adjust. While your psionic potential is capped – for now – you will still feel more powerful than you ever have. Do not let it overwhelm you, and as a result the psionic bleedoff will affect the world around you in possibly unpredictable ways. This will likely stop once you master it."

"I suppose I'll have to prepare," she said. "But there are worse things to have happen to you."

"I suspect you will adjust quickly," Revelean said, lowering the hand with the tablet. "That covers the basics of what you will experience after undergoing the procedure. Do you have immediate questions?"

"Not especially," she shook her head. "Although…how long will it take?"

"The procedure? Estimated twelve hours to complete properly, with several days of recovery," Revelean recalled. "Your enhancement will take five days to fully complete, with you being unconscious throughout, with several days of recovery. I would prefer this begin as soon as possible."

"As would I," Patricia motioned to continue. "Let's do this."

Situation Room, the Praesidium – Classified Location

2/26/2017 – 11:01 A.M.

"We have had limited interactions with psions," V'Zarrah was saying to the small collection of Humans. "Incorporating them into possible strategies will need to be carefully considered. We have no interest in relying upon them."

"Understandable," the Commander nodded. "But they can be an asset for your fleet – and something you will need to counter the Sectoids and Ethereals."

The Andromedon didn't sound happy at that but conceded the point. "Agreed. I would advise our fleet commanders become acquainted with your psions and assess their capabilities. Your own fleet will need to understand how to incorporate psionics as well as training for traditional space combat."

"If any training is to be done, it should be in the Atlantis facilities when it happens," Creed interjected, appraising the Andromedons. "It's a risk for both of our species to potentially be caught in Andromedon space."

"We have established facilities in locations secret from the Ethereals," V'Zarrah refuted. "And all of whom are trustworthy. This has not been a decision made overnight, and the updated plans to incorporate your species have not changed it. Care will be taken, but we know what we're doing."

"We'll debate this when ADVENT has a curated naval officer corps," the Commander said, looking around the room. "Until that point comes, this is mostly speculation for something that will not happen for a long time. Earth will need to be reclaimed and the fleet will need to remain secret."

"Indeed." V'Zarrah looked to the Commander for a moment. "There is another topic that we need clarification on. Following the revelation that there was an Ethereal defector – Aegis – the Imperator implied to us that your species is under the influence of, or possibly being directed by, an entity he referred to as a 'Sovereign One'."

The Commander was surprised. Not necessarily at the question, which in context was perfectly reasonable and something he would have asked as well. No, he was surprised because the Imperator had actually revealed to the Andromedons something of that magnitude. Probably not the complete story – if the Imperator actually had the complete story – but it was, he had to admit, a pretty good deflection in the appearance of being open and honest to one of the species in the Collective.

Had he told others.

"What exactly do you need clarification on?" He asked.

The answer was immediate. "How much of it is true."

The Commander gave a short nod. "The Imperator didn't completely lie here. There is a Sovereign One on Earth – T'Leth he calls himself. He has a certain number of agents that operate on our planet and beyond, which you've probably seen. Fiona and the Chronicler."

"The ones with stone armor," V'Zarrah recalled. "They are agents of this T'Leth. I had assumed they were XCOM."

"Correct," Creed confirmed. "Not a lot of them, but we're working with them."

"Yes, T'Leth is not controlling our species," the Commander continued. "The Chancellor was only recently notified about their existence. He has proven to be a help to us, and continues to provide his own expertise on certain subjects. Our psionic tech program is nearing testing stages because of him."

V'Zarrah considered. "So you say. What are his intentions for the future?"

"More vague than we would like," the Commander admitted. "But what is certain is that he wishes to remain an ally to Humanity and would assist us in future conflicts, and we would support him if he encounters issues of his own. Other Sovereign Ones will be hostile to emerging galactic powers, and an ally like T'Leth will be useful. Not to mention the threat of the Synthesized."

"The machines that supposedly destroyed the Ethereal Empire?" V'Zarrah sounded skeptical. "Those still exist?"

"According to T'Leth, yes," the Commander said. "And they have an explicit goal of hunting Sovereign Ones and any others in their path. They are as much of a threat to us as the Collective is, even if they won't come until the future."

V'Zarrah consulted a haptic display on his wrist. "These Synthesized are described as hybrids of cybernetics and flesh, correct? With odd abilities and spacecraft?"

"Something to that effect," he confirmed, frowning. "Why? Do you know something about them?"

"Union Viarior has not paid significant attention to this presumably phantom threat," V'Zarrah said. "We had more important things to concern ourselves with. But others have developed an interest in these Synthesized when we learned of them. In particular, Union Zacarrim thought their usage of cybernetics was something worth exploring."

"Did they actually find anything?" Creed asked.

"Nothing significant until five years ago," using his wrist he projected an orange-tinted hologram of what looked like an exoskeleton. Broken metal lined what was clearly supposed to be over a skeleton, with one of the arms altered into…something. Likely a weapon, but it had long-since broken. The head reminded him of a triangle or teardrop, but aside from that he didn't see anything else identifying.

"Synthesized soldiers?" Creed questioned, looking at the hologram curiously.

"Unknown, but these were extracted from a desert planet in the process of terraforming," V'Zarrah said. "Hundreds of thousands of these wrecks. At minimum this was a highly cybernetic species, but their uniformity makes me think they were soldiers. Considering what we know about the Synthesized, perhaps these were part of the army it used. Unfortunately, we were not able to recover any usable technology from them, though the metals we extracted and melted, as they were made with an unfamiliar composition. But if you are concerned about the Synthesized, then you should be aware of what we might have found on them as well."

"I see," the Commander said slowly, moving to the holotable to bring up an archived hologram. "In which case, have any of your Unions ever recovered one of these?" He brought up the hologram of the Indoctrination Pyramid recovered from China.

"No." V'Zarrah denied flatly. "Something that exotic we would know about, and likely attempt to acquire. What is it?"

"What T'Leth calls an Indoctrination Pyramid," the Commander said. "A Synthesized device which emits a telepathic signal to control others. Worst case scenario, it's connected to a Prime, one of the managing intelligences. At best…it mostly causes insanity and mental deterioration. Avoid these at all costs and inform us if you stumble upon one of them. Do not attempt to research it."

"You're speaking to an Andromedon, Commander," V'Zarrah said dryly. "That is what we do."

"And for your own safety, I'd suggest you not," he repeated. "But since you shared what you know, it's only fair we return the favor."

"Which is appreciated, I will inform the others of this," V'Zarrah said, making a note. "But what does T'Leth intend for my species? Or has he not communicated these plans to you?"

"As far as I know, you'll be left alone unless you make him your enemy," the Commander said. "Or make an ally of his an enemy. Our…alliance…is atypical for him. A mutual partnership. I suspect he doesn't care what you do unless it relates directly to him."

"I would prefer to determine that for myself," V'Zarrah said. "I want to talk to him. That is possible, yes?"

"That can be done," the Commander said. "I'll speak to the Chronicler. Although there is only one way T'Leth directly communicates, and you might not like it."

"How?"

"Through Sovereign Orbs, which he uses to observe Earth," the Commander said. "Touching them opens a telepathic dreamscape between you and him. Not dangerous, but it is initially daunting, and psionically based. It requires trust on your end."

"Noted." V'Zarrah said, not sounding deterred. "And I suspect that Union Zacarrim will wish to speak to him regarding the Synthesized. Perhaps their fascination can be answered in more detail."

"I think you should also keep much of this to yourself," Creed cautioned. "T'Leth doesn't want his existence to become public knowledge. Share it with your leadership if you must, but the average Andromedon should still remain unaware."

"We will continue the same policy as usual," V'Zarrah promised. "This is valuable and destabilizing information if used properly. We will ensure that only those relevant will know about this situation."

That was probably going to be as good of a deal as they got. And if T'Leth wasn't happy with that…well, he'd probably let them know. Perhaps T'Leth would end up helping the Andromedons as well. The Commander could see both getting along nicely.

It nothing else, it would give the Andromedons pause if they ever tried to betray them.

T'Leth could turn out to be a very useful deterrent.

War Command Center, Collective Mars Base – Mars

2/28/2017 – 10:00 A.M.

The room was among the largest in the base. It was alien in that it was constructed in the shape of an ascending ziggurat, each row of seats becoming smaller and smaller as it neared the top. The Disprium clearly liked to have whoever was in charge clearly visible to all, and the Battlemaster stood at the top with the Zar'Chon and the First Guardian to his sides.

The dimmed room was filled with the rest of the ranking soldiers who would be involved in what the Battlemaster knew would be the final invasion of Earth. Vitakara, Andromedons, even a Hive Commander was in attendance. Sicarius was somewhere, as was Quisilia, but they stood apart so as not to command additional attention.

"Our attack on Earth has been finalized. Within one week the attacks will commence."

It was the first time that had been publicly acknowledged outside of internal discussions. But the officers and aliens simply remained silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Good. He pressed one of the buttons on the console and a replica of Earth appeared above him. "We possess numerical and technological superiority over Earth. It will be utilized to the fullest now. There will be no singular battlefields in the coming conflicts. We intend to conquer this world, and it shall be done."

The hologram focused on China. "In three days Isomnum will address the Chinese and on the fourth day he will commence the invasion of mainland China and the surrounding countries. This will force an ADVENT response. They have been significantly weakened due to the smallpox epidemic, and without significant ADVENT support and protection, they will soon fall."

"The question of Japan and the outlying islands is outstanding," the Zar'Chon stepped forward. "Fifty Andromedon Cleanser Ships have recently arrived in-system. They will be crucial for the overall campaign. After Isomnum addresses China, orbital bombardment will commence on Japan and Taiwan, with deployments of three million Mutons, Custodians, and Runianarch to each to assume control of the country."

The Battlemaster suspected ADVENT would be shocked at this development, but he was no longer concerned with protecting the infrastructure which had already survived previous attacks, and in Japan at least, there was not really any concern for civilian casualties since they'd been evacuated long ago.

And for Taiwan…Cleanser Ships were precise enough where merely targeting the military bases and government buildings was feasible.

"In the likely event an invasion of China is declared, Isomnum will commence operations in what will be referred to as the Earth-Asian theatre," the Battlemaster stated, as the area comprising the theatre lit up. "Due to his own restrictions, he will likely utilize primarily automated and mechanical forces, in addition to air support. We suspect that Aegis is likely to directly oppose him, along with a majority of XCOM."

The globe spun until it focused on Africa. "The Sovereign African States will unveil their allegiance with us the same time as Isomnum," the Zar'Chon said, motioning upwards. "We are expecting an immediate response, though what that could entail is unknown. We are prepared to provide significant military and civilian assistance. The SAS will begin the nearby assimilation of countries – through negotiation or conquest – and at the same time we will launch a direct attack against the south of the continent."

The respective country lit up. "South Africa," the Zar'Chon said. "Due to the technological inferiority of the African nations, we expect we can easily capture all nations south of the SAS within weeks, and subsequently turn leadership over to them. Since ADVENT has little to no presence, we will encounter minimal threat. This will be primarily carried out under the direction of Ethereal Macula."

The globe moved until it highlighted the Americas, before zooming in on South America. "We will also begin a coordinated invasion of South America," the Zar'Chon continued. "With orbital support, we will capture non-aligned nations and likely overwhelm the majority of ADVENT-aligned nations on the southern half of the continent. Our eventual goal is the capture of Brazil." He motioned to the Ethereals beside him. "This will be overseen by both of the Guardians."

The Battlemaster took over as the Zar'Chon stepped back. "The United States will be invaded from a new direction. We will commence the invasion at Florida and advance up the East Coast. At the same time, our offensives will be renewed in the West Coast and strike teams will strike in major cities around America simultaneously, including New York, Washington D.C., Houston, Philadelphia, and Kansas City. These will be comprised of elite units including Spectres, Elites, Vanguards, Outsider Units, Lurainian, and Ethereals as well as candidates from the Avatar Project who will be revealed shortly."

ADVENT had been able to weather assaults before. But admittedly, those had been only several major assaults. He was curious to see how they would react to dozens of assaults in frontal attacks all across the United States – and the world. Canada would also receive some support, but the Battlemaster did not especially consider the country vital, and much of it was underdeveloped. Orbital bombardment would likely reduce their military effectiveness significantly.

It zoomed in on a section of the United States. "I have also established a contingency which will serve two purposes," the Battlemaster continued. "One is to provide ADVENT with a distraction if they are proving more resilient, and the second is to draw Aegis to a specific point. Should the contingency be activated, the area known as Yellowstone will be targeted for orbital bombardment. The goal will be to trigger a cataclysmic effect that will destroy a large portion of the country and cause significant changes to the immediate biosphere. Since we wish to keep the environment largely untouched, it is why this is a contingency. I am the only one who can activate it, or rescind the order – remember that it can and might be used merely to draw Aegis to this position, as he can defend against the bombardment."

The globe finally moved to Europe. The Zar'Chon stepped forward. "We are initiating a series of assassination and quiet strikes against first the leadership of non-ADVENT nations to throw them into chaos. Soft strikes against politicians and military officials will prime the countries for lightning invasions and will be carried out simultaneously. This will throw them into chaos and given the situation ADVENT will be facing, they will likely be unable to respond quickly."

The hologram shifted to highlight ADVENT nations. "After this, we will begin operations to assassinate the ranking members of ADVENT. This is not exclusive to Europe, but considering that a majority of their major operations are overseen in Switzerland and surrounding areas, this serves as a good illustration. Public figures and heads of state who have supported ADVENT will be removed first, such as Prince Mason and the British Royal Family, Iseul Gwan, Minister Habicht, and similar individuals."

A pause. "Following that, we will begin the assassination of ADVENT officials and military leaders. These will be more intermittent as they will be fewer and likely require custom timeframes to achieve correctly. They are intended to cripple ADVENT leadership in key areas. This includes Commander Christiaens, Feng Mercado, Kim Munju, along with Richard Tygan, Elizabeth Falka, and of course, Chancellor Saudia Vyandar." As he said each name, the corresponding portrait appeared.

"The final target is Russia," the Battlemaster finished. "A strike team will invade and take control of Moscow and from there, the rest of Russia will be taken over. We are not expecting significant resistance or retaliation from ADVENT given the other operations taking place. This will be accompanied by orbital support. After Moscow is secured, we will likely conduct strikes similar to those that will happen in America against Russian cities."

He shut the hologram off. "This covers the overall plan to conquer Earth, and will be continually modified as new information emerges. Each of you has specific information to review and disseminate to your own command. I expect the instructions to be followed immediately for this operation to begin without issues. Your orders and mission are clear."

He drew his sword, took a reverse grip and rested the point on the ground, pleased to have finally arrived at this point. "Each of you is dismissed. Go, and prepare to end this war once and for all."

The Dead World

3/1/2017 – 9:00 A.M.

Her hands were steady as she piloted the small spacecraft down onto the grey, barren world. While she was definitely no pilot, she knew enough now thanks to simulations and hands-on experience that she could fly and land a simple spacecraft, with the assistance of the on-board computer. Flying past the spherical station of Paradise was…unpleasant, and the sense that she was being watched had not faded in the least since she'd arrived in the system.

But nothing had happened, and she'd proceeded downward.

Down onto the Dead World.

The planet was an odd contradiction and impossibility. There should be no breathable atmosphere, but one somehow existed if her sensors were accurate – though how this was actually possible she didn't know. Given the legends and rumors about the planet, it could be any number of reasons. The Bringer being involved (Most likely) made even far-fetched theories seem somewhat plausible.

At least she knew for sure that taking off her helmet wouldn't kill her. Not that she was planning to take unnecessary risks.

She had only been given one goal by the Battlemaster: Land, find the Forge, create her weapons, and leave. It was straightforward and simple. Too simple. No fighting, no puzzles or riddles, no clear test outside of what was clearly said. But she knew better. This Trial had claimed the lives of Ethereals, so there was something dangerous.

She should hopefully be able to-

She froze in her seat as the psionic power she had grown so accustomed to dissipated. It was ripped from her in an instant. She couldn't feel the Psionosphere and her mind was completely exposed. The ship was on autopilot now and it could land on its own, which already had a pre-determined destination. Standing up, she tried telekinetically summoning her weapons to her.

It didn't work. The psionic power was gone. The Psionosphere was gone. It was dead and absent.

She felt naked and vulnerable without it. Sure, she had been significantly genetically altered and enhanced with the best of Collective technology – but that wasn't her best asset. She was a telekine and that's what she'd trained for. To have that taken away was…damaging.

Well, the Trial now took on a different dimension. She couldn't rely on psionics anymore.

She supposed the good news was that the same applied to the Bringer. He couldn't dominate her if there was no psionics to influence her with. She'd have to rely solely on her training and mind. The good news was that she felt she could handle it. The bad news was that she just knew there was something else that was going to happen.

She pulled out the handheld holodisplay which brought up a map of the Dead World. Interestingly, there were still ruins, mountains, and landscapes on the planet, but it was just dead and grey. But still preserved. No weather, insects, or vegetation to degrade and destroy it. Probably one reason the Forge had managed to survive.

It was going to be a hike, with a roundabout path, but easy enough to follow.

Placing her helmet over her head, clicking with a sharp hiss, she grabbed her swords and moved to the exit. It opened, extending the departing ramp, and she stepped outside into paradise.

The vertigo she experienced when she looked around made her briefly question if she'd accidentally replaced her oxygen tanks with some psychedelic drug that made her hallucinate, because what she saw was absolutely nothing like the grey and barren world she'd flown down to.

She stood in the middle of an open forest, with her ship in a clearing surrounded by trees and covered in grass. The grass was green and not trimmed, but very short. Small flowers grew within it, ones she'd never seen before. The trees were a mixture of having brown and white bark, with leaves ranging from red, orange, blue, and transparent. It was a bizarre mixture, and they grew in patterns and shapes that were definitely not similar to Earth.

Was this real?

She slowly took off a gauntlet and knelt down and picked some of the short grass. It was plucked easily enough – and felt real in her hand. She wasn't going to take off her helmet, but it likely had a real smell too. It left some soil on her fingers, which she brushed off. Pulling her gauntlet back on, she pondered what to do now.

There were two possibilities: Either the world was still dead and she was now being affected by some kind of telepathic effect – though how that worked when the Psionosphere didn't exist (and it still didn't) here was unknown.

Or the world was real, and what was projected to the rest of the galaxy was a fake. A telepathic effect or ridiculously ineffective holoprojectors? If it was a passive telepathic effect, then maybe that somehow explained the lack of a Psionosphere. But if that were the case, shouldn't it have broken when she entered the atmosphere? Or did it somehow change when she went into her ship?

Did she need a physical connection?

She had time, and she needed to know what she was dealing with, because it would change how she proceeded. Yang moved back into the ship and moved to the cockpit, and looked through the screens again to the outside. Grey and barren. Alright. Was it because she wasn't actually seeing it with her own eyes and through a computer screen?

Didn't matter at the moment. She grabbed a small empty jar which would normally be used for drinking, and walked back outside into the alien world. Kneeling down, she dug out a small patch of grass and flowers and put it in the jar. She also went over to a blooming tree of red and black leaves, and pulled off a small branch from it. Both of those in her hand, she went back to the ship.

Both stayed exactly the same. She set them down and considered. It appeared like she wasn't going to get any actual answers until she left the planet. Whatever was happening, she was definitely being affected by it, inside and outside the ship. So she'd need to leave the planet entirely before she knew for sure what she was dealing with.

An unexpected turn of events, and she didn't like how she might not be able to trust her own senses.

Stepping back outside, she began walking along the path which would lead to the Forge. It was walked and clear, with fallen leaves along the path. It was a beautiful sight, and she could see hills and vibrant countryside in the distance. The sky was a bright blue and cloudless, but without a blazing sun. It was an almost perfect world.

Still, something seemed off, which was why she held the swords in her hand. Her senses seemed artificially enhanced. Everything was too vibrant, as if she was viewing from a higher definition than she could interpret. The colors popped too much, the sounds and wind were too sharp to her ears. It all felt real. Too real.

What a stupid thought. It didn't make any sense.

But that's how she felt.

Yang walked in near silence along the path, until she froze as she saw a being sitting on a bench which was surrounded by trees which shed leaves with each gust of wind. These were the trees with the transparent leaves and white bark. The bench itself seemed to be made out of the branches which dipped into the ground, shaped to provide seating to others.

The individual who sat on it appeared to be Human. It was an older male, with oddly vibrant skin and white hair with a neat beard which seemed to almost glow in the light. He wore an odd grey robe-like garment which she didn't recognize, but it seemed to allow a decent amount of mobility. But it all was background compared to the impossibly purple eyes that glowed with psionic fire.

"Welcome, child. I said that you would come back to me."

She didn't even think before reacting to that same voice that penetrated directly into her mind, even as the mouth moved like a real one. She tossed one of the swords towards the chest and charged forward with the other sword in hand. The blade buried itself in the unarmored chest, spurting bright crimson blood while the other blade lopped the head off of the old man.

The body though did not collapse, and merely pulled her close to the decapitated body. "Now, now. Let us be civilized about this." With a gesture she was thrown back by a powerful wave and slammed against one of the white-barked trees. As she stood, the sword was telekinetically pulled out of the body and returned to her, while the head was also pulled back to the hands, and placed back onto the head as if it were nothing.

A cold terror gripped her as she realized the implications. The Bringer was somehow here, and she had no way of defending herself from him. And it must be him who was maintaining this illusion – no matter which way it went. Did that mean he controlled the Psionosphere here…

If so…

She swallowed. The figure who embodied the Bringer smiled. "You learn fast, Yang Shuren. An admirable trait and one which has captured my interest."

"No!" She spat. "I will never join or help you. I made that clear!"

The bearded face of the man twisted into a smile, the glowing eyes shining bright. "And despite that, you come here. You come to a world where my vision is most potent. Where my power is absolute. Why come to here, Yang Shuren, if you wish to flee me? You knew I would be here." He appraised her, taking a step forward. "Perhaps not quite like this, but you are no fool. You know what the Ethereals did not when they came to this world. But you still come."

She pointed a bloodstained sword at him. "Not for you."

"Your trial," a simple nod. "Expected, I suppose. But why risk your life for this? For the Battlemaster? For the Imperator who you are growing disillusioned with? For a planet you now fight against? Or are you merely doing it because it's expected of you?"

"Quiet," she snarled, clenching the swords in her hand. "My reasons don't matter to you, they never did and never will, even if you're inside my head."

He looked almost…sad as he met her eyes. "They matter, child. More so than you can imagine right now. I know what you think of me, I know your hatred runs deep, and in your eyes, it is justified. But today…it will be different. Today when you finish, you will understand. No more will ignorance guide you. Salvation can only come to those who are willing. Today you will accept eternity in Paradise – or reject it."

"I'll give you my answer now," Yang said, stepping forward. "Rejected. I've seen what your version of that is, and I want no part of it."

"Continue first, child," he gestured to the path. "Your journey here is not complete."

"And what are you going to do?" She asked. "Send your people to attack me when I'm handicapped with what you've done to the planet?"

"Done?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "What I've done to this planet. How…interesting. Yes, you would feel that way. You are a blind woman wandering; so used to having to reach for the power when it should merely be another aspect of the reality we inhabit. The Psionosphere is a false barrier imposed on the galaxy by constraints of reality. One which will be torn down when the Crossing is complete."

He looked around the forest, his tone almost wistful. "This planet is…special. The first time where the hard lines of reality were broken and the salvation for all species was unleashed. This planet was the homeworld of the Arthenn, psionic aliens who were managed by a few powerful and arrogant masters. The rest were little more than slaves and batteries from which the masters drew to extend their lives. The aliens lived without hope, life or love. They had no future."

"And you found them," she guessed. "You helped?"

"They longed for something in their lives, a reason for living," the Bringer said wistfully. "Salvation and hope. I can give them what none can provide. Eternity. Their masters would be brought low and consumed forever, their minds scattered and broken for all time. But they would live jubilant and triumphant. Never dying; with me in eternity forever."

"But it clearly didn't work," she smirked. "You failed."

"A matter of perspective," he said with some amusement. "The crossing…yes…it failed. I underestimated what it would take. What would be required. Yet at the same time…the Arthenn endure to this day. They are in Paradise, with me, they live eternal. And through the sacrifice of their physical bodies, they created the world you inhabit today."

He pointed at her. "Let the scales fall from your eyes. Experience the power which will be afforded to those who accept Paradise."

The rush that she'd felt when entering the world suddenly flowed back into her, far stronger than before. She could feel the power, but it was…different now. More a part of her than it had ever been. She'd needed to reach for the power before, but now it barely required any effort. It was as if the world was saturated with pure psionic energy; an inexhaustible well to draw from.

In an experimental gesture, she focused on one of the trees nearby and applied some telekinetic pressure with complexity that would exhaust her. With a series of snaps and creaks, the tree practically disintegrated as it crumbled into splinters and jagged wood, as the pulling of the telekinetic strings in hundreds of directions accomplished.

She looked down at her hand, not feeling any sense of weariness or exhaustion. It was just as easy as suspending a feather in the air.

Yang swung her head to where the Bringer was, and found he was gone. But he wasn't gone, he would still be watching her, and waiting. Shaken at what she was seeing, yet empowered by the high of the power which flowed on this world, she carefully continued forward on the path. The sun overhead beat down on her, but she felt no scorching heat.

So she continued.

Minutes passed until the path began winding down a hill. In the distance, she saw a blurred city. She consulted her holomap, and unfortunately, that seemed to be the place she needed to go through. There was a contradictory series of architectures that she could see; some with curved and shining architectures which reached up to the heavens. Others were almost organic in nature, brown and webbed and reminded her of corruption. Others were buildings in a style she recognized from the Ethereal Empire.

Was all of this real? Or the Bringer continuing the illusion?

"And another one comes," Yang started at the voice coming from the right. "It's been…a long time."

She felt the power at her fingertips, then hesitated as an Ethereal emerged from the forest. A female one, though only really possible to tell from the voice, not the armor. Her armor was far more ornate and detailed than the Battlemaster's, with various symbols and decorative additions on the armor. It didn't seem as heavy either, and the blood-red cape only fell off of one shoulder, mostly covering the arms that held an Ethereal short sword while a similarly decorated shield was held in the other.

She appraised the alien warily. "You're not real."

The Ethereal simply looked at her, the helmet impossible to read. It resembled the more traditional helmets of the Ethereals, if having not as many exposed points. "Why?"

"The only Ethereals alive, I know," Yang said. "And if you were one of them, I would have been told. And they definitely aren't living here. You're not real. An illusion." She snorted. "Like most things here, I guess."

"I suppose that depends on what you define as alive," the Ethereal said walking to the side, voice merely musing as if she were asking idle questions. "Perhaps I don't have a physical body. Perhaps I do. You feel you cannot trust your senses. But it doesn't matter. Body or no, I am alive."

Yang shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Indeed?" The Ethereal turned. "And what are you, Yang Shuren? Are you a collection of organs and skin? Are you made up only of a brain, eyes, heart, and lungs? Is the body Yang Shuren, or is it your mind? Your consciousness?"

Yang paused. "Fair point. But you can't have a consciousness without a vessel. A body."

"Conventional wisdom would suggest as much," came the answer in a sigh. "Despite our Empire's vast knowledge, the truth is that we never came close to understanding the nature of psionics or the Psionosphere. We never could. We were too flawed. Too insulated. Too blind."

She looked back to Yang. "I feel some pride in the fact that despite us losing everything, there are at least a few of my kind who have learned from our mistakes. No alien has ever undertaken the Trial of the Battlemasters. May I ask who yours is?"

"I…" Yang hesitated. "I don't know his name, actually. He's just…the Battlemaster." She shrugged lamely. "That's his title and what he's gone by. He's never shared his name."

"I see," she said. "If he is the last, I understand why he would adopt the title, as that is who all Battlemasters are. We are instruments of war, conquest, and destruction. We thought, planned, and executed according to this mindset. I am Ereuter, I have walked the path you did today. I hae intended to become a Battlemaster, yet fate had other plans."

"And now you're a puppet for the thing in the Psionosphere," she finished. "Assuming that's actually you. What happened to you, anyway? What did he lie to you about?"

"Lie?" Ereuter truly sounded confused. "He does not lie. The truth we may cower and flee from, but he does not lie. He told me the truth – about the universe, about our Empire, about how we would fall and die, about how we squandered our chance to break the grip the Sovereigns hold over our galaxy, about just how little we knew. And…" she trailed off. "He was right. About everything. So many dead by our own pointless short-sightedness, greed, and superiority. Our Empire lies in ashes; dead; forgotten. Our survivors led by an Imperator who retains the arrogance of his predecessors, yet ironically is drawn to a strikingly noble goal."

"An idiot," Yang stated flatly. "He works with you."

"I agree," Ereuter said. "But not for the reason you think. The idea that a mere Imperator could hope to command Him is…amusing to believe. The arrogance of the Ethereals knows no bounds. And it is so…unnecessary," a hand waved in dismissal. "We want the same thing; a galaxy free from the iron grip and machinations of the Sovereign Ones, and protection from the scourge of the Synthesized. An end to their galactic harvests and perversions of self. Sadly, this is not to be. The Imperator is yet another only concerned for his own survival, his own power, at the expense of the greater good."

She looked to Yang. "Do you know, Yang, what will happen in the future?"

"Of course I don't?" Yang was confused by the question. "How could I?"

"I can tell you," she said. "And what the greatest gift He offers to us. You are curious, I know that much."

"Enlighten me."

"He offers a universe without death," she said. "What happens when we die, Yang? What happens when our bodies cease to function and begin rotting away?"

"I don't know," Yang shrugged. "Nothing. Or something like eternal torment in my case. Or depending on which god may or may not exist. No one knows the answer. And I guess it doesn't matter really. The dead don't come back. They don't affect the world."

"But I do know, Yang Shuren," she said, the towering alien kneeling down so that Yang could look the helmeted Ethereal in the eyes. "Death of the physical body is merely a transition to eternity. It is true immortality, together with the other souls under His loving watch. There is no death in Paradise, Yang. You were saddened and disgusted by what you saw on this plane of reality within the station of Paradise because for you, death is finality. It is the end. But for Him…that simply is not true."

She looked up to the sky. "Every soul that perished, by your hand, that of your allies, or who were allowed to join Him then…they live Yang, and they will live forever, forever united in his Embrace. They will know no fear, doubt, or any of the physical ailments of this reality."

"Impossible," Yang shook her head. "All you're doing is just feeding the Bringer. Only making him grow more and more powerful. It isn't a gift, it's a death sentence and you're just an illusion trying to make me doubt."

"We do make him more powerful," she agreed. "With each soul added, he grows in might and power, as is his right. But we do not lose ourselves in his gestalt. We are all one-"

"Enough!" Yang needed to have her stop talking, and used the power of the world to instantaneously and quickly rip the Ethereal apart, which was accomplished in a splash of blue blood, flesh, and armor. The remains fell to the ground, and didn't reform. Breathing heavily, trying to ignore the haunting words, she turned back to the path.

And now there was a little girl standing in her way.

Swallowing, Yang stepped forward towards her, hoping she would be silent. While she could tear apart the Ethereal specter, she would not be able to do the same here. The young girl with bright eyes and golden hair looked up. "Do you remember me?"

The memory of the haunting voices of the children came back; the grotesque trigger that made her recall. A single nod. "Yes."

"Don't be sad," the girl admonished. "I'm ok."

"No," Yang remembered when the little girl was killed. "You're not."

She smiled up at Yang. "It's not your fault. I didn't die then. I can't die now."

Yang looked away. "Please. Go."

"He doesn't lie," a small hand wrapped around a gauntlet which held a sword. "You don't need to be afraid anymore. It's ok to be wrong."

"I can't be," Yang shook her head. "Even…this…you can't trick me. No matter how much you try. I…can't be tricked like this, not like this." The hand around her own pulled back, and when she looked around, the girl was gone, yet her words still stuck in her mind along with the clinging implication.

What if she was wrong?

"Then you will sleep for eternity," a new deep voice jarred her out of her reflection. Another armored Ethereal, this one bearing more resemblance to her Battlemaster approached. But his armor was golden, not grey like most. In his hands was a Guardian saber hilt, a double-sided one. "Appealing to your empathy and logic is clearly lost on you by the minds which inhabit the gestalt. You consider yourself a woman of logic and reason, yet you deny the evidence before her. You are Dead, like so many in this galaxy despite being offered the rare opportunity to ascend beyond such things."

"And who are you?" She raised one of her swords.

"Idance, and like many others who stepped onto this world, I aspired to become a Battlemaster," he stated. "And the Bringer showed me the truth of the galaxy. In all of its harsh reality and brutality. And I have watched you on this world, and your coddling will come to an end. What do you hope to achieve Yang Shuren. What importance is your life in the scope of a galaxy?"

"A galaxy?" She sniffed. "I don't care about that. I will help the Battlemaster conquer my species and rebuild it into something worth preserving. I will kill all of those who've taken advantage of me and others, who've hurt myself and those I care about. And then?" She shrugged. "I'll endure, and help the Battlemaster."

"All you achieve can be undone, and anything you do will be undone if you continue on this path," came the warning. "It takes far fewer to undo progress than create it. Your own species is rife with this short-sightedness. Progress undone and lost by the ignorant and fearful. Your kind are driven by emotion and manipulation. You are children surrounded by equally blind adults; you require guidance, but those who seek to control you are just as inept, and filled with just as many failings. Your legacy will achieve nothing, you will be nothing, everything you build will be torn down. Perhaps before your eyes, perhaps long after your body expires. As of now, it does not matter."

He jabbed a finger, his words jabbing at her with such intensity that she took a step back. "You are Dead. You are a Dead woman, conceived from Dead parents of a Dead species. Now you fight for Dead masters who follow in the steps of the Dead. You are walking the path of the Dead along with many others. Your legacy is as fragile as a Human life. Your bones will be argued over, or crushed under the eyes of future cycles who wonder what could have happened to you. But they will be as Dead as you are. Their fates assured forever."

He was close to her now, the assaulting words rendering her mute, so strong was their intensity. "But…" he said, voice soft. "There is salvation. It is possible. You need not be dead, your species need not succumb like so many. You are afraid, it is understandable. The truth is terrifying. What is the point of existence if all it will ever amount to is nothing? He has seen the cycles reap their harvests over and over. You know this truth."

He clenched a fist. "Accept this truth, Yang Shuren. Do not let the fear drive you to continue the path of the Dead. He is no Imperator. He cares about the future of all. He wants them to join his Embrace and be forever protected. I have seen the memories of galaxies in flames, and it will happen once more. But now though…now hope can potentially bloom. Death can be made obsolete. Imagine a galaxy where death no longer has hold on those who are saved; who can continue safe in the knowledge that they will be forever preserved by his will and love."

The massive Ethereal turned away from her. "I have said what I wished. Go, and I would ask you think on what I say. I live, regardless of what you tell yourself or not – as well as those you have already spoken too."

The Ethereal dissipated into nothing, leaving her standing before the empty city.

Too many of those words echoed in her mind.

You are Dead.

Conceived of Dead parents of a Dead species.

You fight for Dead masters who follow in the steps of the Dead.

How much of this was true…

How much of this had happened in some form before.

Cycles. It was called that for a reason.

Were they doomed from the start? Did anything they do…matter?

She walked forward, shaken and distracted. She didn't see the specter of the Bringer until she was much closer. This time she didn't bother to tell him to go away, she wanted to, but she was thinking too much now. "There are many more who wish to impart their wisdom, child," he said as she approached. "Yet I feel that you being overwhelmed would serve no one."

She looked around the divided city. "What is this place?"

"The past, present, and future," the Bringer stated. "Your situation is not unique. So many others are already subverted and under the spell of the Sovereign Ones. Even now the servants of the Synthesized operate and prepare. And I still see all, and this is what I wish to show you. The galaxy is violent, savage, and brutal. It continues now, and will continue in the future if nothing changes. Follow me, child. See the realities that are taking place now in this galaxy."

He gestured, and she decided to follow him into the towering and shining structure. It seemed inviting enough. Inside it reminded her of a church, and that may have been what it was. There were rows of shining white benches which faced an elevated altar and before it was a blue and white rug with symbols she didn't recognize.

Small rivers ran along the path through the center of the pews, pouring from small artificial waterfalls which poured from the sides of the altar. Towering over everything was a statue depicting…something…an alien, likely. Perhaps their being of worship? It was illuminated by tinted light which came from stained glass etched with the white and blue symbol.

The church as a whole was highly elevated, with high ceilings which were angled and were segmented with more stained glass depictions of things she didn't recognize. Alien music wafted through softly; beautiful in all honesty. The Bringer sat on a pew in the back and she joined him, even as they watched the other aliens that wandered through.

They were definitely…something she hadn't seen. Wearing dresses or robes, all of them seemed female whose skin tones ranged from purple, to blue, to white in rare cases. An aquatic species originally, if she had to guess. The statue figures may be males or other aliens which possibly ruled over them? Their language she didn't recognize, though it was pleasant to listen to.

"What is this place?"

"A temple," the Bringer was amused. "To a false god. Not atypical for Sovereigns, but they cannot offer anything more than any other mortal. They cannot protect against the others of their kind. They cannot protect their thralls against the harvests. They cannot transcend death, or offer the same to their subjects. They are frauds and false. A god who will not intercede for his subjects is no deity, but a coward."

Yang grunted. "And you're not."

"Death has no hold over me, Yang Shuren," the Bringer said with calm confidence. "That barrier has been forever shattered, and I do not hoard this gift to myself. I walk among my people, I walk among Paradise through the beings you encountered. The Saints as they are called by my more eloquent children. Why have believers and servants if you cannot celebrate and live alongside them? Why cultivate followers if you merely intend to ignore them and be silent? Questions, eternal questions which appear in cycle after cycle."

He turned his fiery psionic eyes on her. "All religion is false in a way, child. While I may be considered a god, I am merely the result of those who have found a way to transcend death. Yet I find myself wishing to live up to these lofty ideals – your species in particular has high standards for deities. Yet the truth is that there is only so much even the most powerful can do. But I can state that at least I do not cynically utilize those who follow me to merely destroy my rivals and discard them afterwards."

He pointed to an alien which just entered. "The Sovereigns who would be gods reap what they sow. Their hypocrisy is seen even among their own, and when that happens…there is violent retribution."

There was something definitely off about the alien. Features of contained anger were plastered on her face. Pushing through the more calm occupants, she moved to the front of the alter where the leader gave her a command. Or a question. Yang couldn't tell. The alien was saying something, and it seemed to be a fast exchange of dialogue.

Something akin to fear appeared in the other woman, and the first alien triggered something in her hand. An explosion of fire and a blue substance rocked through the church, annihilating the entirety of the occupants, reducing many to particles and destroying most of the structures at the epicenter of the blast, and damaging many others around it. Parts of the roof fell down, and the glass shattered into millions of pieces.

Silence reigned, with Yang and the Bringer the only two occupants still alive. "Who…" Yang shook her head, voice unexpectedly happy. "Who was that. Why did she…"

"Her child was taken," the Bringer answered, lacing his fingers together. "The hypocrite gods demand much of their subjects, sometimes including their own children. Few defy a god, but there are those who will. After all, there is little more dangerous than a mother who has lost the only thing they care about." He looked upwards. "And their only goal in life becomes to destroy the institution which took everything."

He stood, gesturing for her to follow. "Come, child. There is more to see."

Yang stood shakily, and followed hesitantly. "Why show me that?"

"To give you perspective," the Bringer stated as they walked. "To show you what people are driven to under the grip of the Sovereign Ones. They perish and sacrifice themselves because they feel there is no choice. There is no hope. One can only submit or die. No freedom. No expression. Nothing that is not mandated and approved by the Sovereign Ones. So many lives perished senselessly. This kind of pointless sacrifice is what I will eradicate. What hold do the Sovereigns hold over their thralls if the fear of death no longer exists?"

"The unknown," Yang answered. "You make a lot of promises. But what you have isn't eternal life. Not really. It's an imitation. A part of your mind which thinks it's alive and independent, but it can no more defy you than my own limbs can defy my own mind. They are happy living that way because they're brainwashed to want that. Death isn't, and shouldn't be something celebrated, something your own thralls seem to not understand."

"But what does it matter, if they are satisfied and happy?" the Bringer questioned. "You would prefer they be miserable; trapped in their pointless and empty lives who can enjoy what you call 'freedom'? What good is freedom if nothing can be done with it? What good is free will if it can never be realized to make decisions which matter?"

He scratched a finger on his beard. "You are driven by anger and rage, Yang Shuren. It defines your existence. It has defined the choices you've made. Revenge is a powerful motivator, but when you execute the ones who condemned your family, what will you do then? You do not support the Imperator. You are a traitor to your species no matter what you say. You have none who will truly accept you, nor do you operate under a leader you want or respect."

"Wrong," she shook her head. "The Battlemaster is my direct superior and who I follow. I'll work with him. Help him with his goals."

The Bringer cocked his head. "You are merely useful to him. A powerful alien, but still an alien. He will never see you as his equal or true partner."

And Yang realized something rather important. The Bringer really didn't know much about the Battlemaster. He didn't know who he really was or what he really believed. "In that you're wrong," she said slowly. "Maybe I won't be his equal in combat. But I can be his friend. He needs one."

"Ah." The Bringer nodded. "I see. You want to belong. You want friends, companionship, love, validation." He shook his head. "Ah, child. You merely had to say something. All your life you have faced rejection and pushed others away due to who you were. Your family never recovered from the shame of your expulsion…and you consider yourself tainted."

Yang flinched. "Get out of my head."

"I do not judge you, no one here does," the Bringer said as they approached one of the brown webbed buildings. "Do you think you're the only one who has been discarded by others who has come here? There is a place for you here, child. There is a life, cause, and friends who merely wait for you to take your rightful place with us."

Yang shook her head, more to block the words than straight disagreement. "I have that now. Even if you don't believe me, because he's the one thing you can't understand. He may not be able to give me eternal life, but he is real and can understand me better than you."

"You're attached to him now, understandable," the Bringer acknowledged. "Then he may join as well. There is a place for all here, including him. His respect for the Imperator continues to wane, that is certainly clear even to me. Our goals align in this way. You both could stay, and in Paradise none will have to fear the death of the other."

Yang snorted. "I certainly don't fear him dying."

"All mortals die, child," the Bringer said, voice tinged with some sadness. "I am blessed, or cursed, to possess the knowledge to defy death. It is merely a matter of probability. All things, even Sovereigns – will eventually perish. Trillions of years, or merely a day, it will happen. I can never die, nor can the ones who have joined me. We will exist forever and ever in eternal joy and purpose."

"Honestly," Yang sighed. "Living forever would get tiring after a while."

The Bringer just smiled. "You would adapt. You and him. But let us continue – there is something I feel you must see to understand the malicious selfishness the Sovereign Ones possess. This selfishness which consumes trillions upon trillions of lives."

They walked inside, and an odd smell hit her first. It was a sickly sweet aroma of something burning, with working machines. Inside there were lines of coffin-like objects on the walls, manned by drone machines and on the ground there were additional aliens she also had little idea of what they were. Possibly insectoids, as they appeared to have brown-colored carapaces, but as she looked closer, it didn't seem like they were all exactly the same.

Some had three fingers, others had six. The number of limbs also varied, as did the overall shape of the body. This appeared to be something which aliens were assimilated into instead of belonging to a singular species. The area on which they operated was open and surrounding an assembly plant which was constructing what appeared to be a machine of some kind – or a spacecraft.

Inside the partially transparent coffins, she could see other aliens inside. Not enough details, but they were clearly cognizant and alive, some of them banging on the interiors. The other aliens ignored them and she watched in muted horror as their screams reached her ears, and were presumably liquified slowly.

"What…are they?"

"Thralls, assimilated cleansers of the Synthesized," the Bringer explained. "Or whatever name you wish to call them. They are responsible for cleansing the galaxy of the obvious artifacts of previous cycles; fooling aliens into thinking they are among the first. They are collectors and experimenters of aliens, sequencing their genetics and then using it to construct their ships."

He pointed to the coffins. "The majority are melted down into a genetic slurry which will be used for biofuel of the ships, along with certain other uses. They are the lucky ones," his fingers laced together once more. "The unlucky ones have their minds destroyed and rebuilt to serve as the enslaved mind of their flagships. Unthinkingly merged with others, they live in an eternal prison, forever condemned to serve under the Prime Directive which governs the Synthesized. A few more lucky ones are chosen to join these aliens – conditioned, grown, and raised to serve as excellent and effective servants."

Yang swallowed. "This is in the past."

"Yes," was the confirmation. "A previous cycle I bore witness to. These aliens are of some interest to me, for they are not like others in the Synthesized. They, in their own way, are their own Collective, a species playing with independence. They are as much victims as those under the Sovereign Ones, but they understand artistry, culture, emotion. They are worthy of salvation, for they simply do not know better. They are created for a singular purpose with all other context stripped away. Yet until they are enlightened…this is what they will do to all species. To your species, as well as any others you care for."

He motioned her to follow him outside, which she quickly followed, happy enough to leave the abomination. It was almost as bad as what was within the Bringer's Paradise. "So you think the Synthesized are the actual threat."

"Indeed," there was no hesitation. "The Sovereigns will be forever obsessed with each other and their proxy wars. They continually fail to realize that with every cycle, the Synthesized grow stronger. They enter more galaxies, they purge, destroy, assimilate, and conquer. They are not shore by the weaknesses of the Sovereigns, for they are united in a common purpose – be it programming or no, it gives them a significant advantage. The Sovereigns will eventually succumb, and the galaxy will be ruled by machines who can no longer pursue their own directive."

Yang was silent as she walked. Perhaps he thought that was enough for the Battlemaster to join her, but Yang knew that there was exactly zero chance that would happen, as it should be. This was one case where the enemy of another enemy was not their friend. The Synthesized were bad. The Sovereigns were bad. But the Bringer ultimately wanted the same thing.

Control over the galaxy. Probably more.

There would be no choice with him anymore than any of the other deity-like figures of the galaxy. All would end up being assimilated – or they would die.

Or worse.

"The future for the galaxy will not be the nightmare you envision," the Bringer allowed a sigh as they walked out of the city. "Such measures will no longer be necessary. Why should they be when victory, safety, and peace has been achieved? No, child, the future will be beautiful; where all beings will be able to live freely without fear of war, disease, or death. Let me show you."

They walked a short distance and Yang sensed the very atmosphere change as they proceeded. In the distance there was another small city, but this one she could see was more…lively. There were figures in the distance, occupants who didn't seem to notice their arrival. There were no guards or defenses she could see, and seemed to have been built solely with aesthetics and artistry in mind.

There was no specific style that she could see that was dominant. There were tall spires and glass temples; skyscrapers and columns the evoked comparisons to Roman architecture. They were made out of extremely valuable and precious resources which were further utilized in copious amounts. Marble, obsidian, diamond, no expense was apparently spared in this place.

There were even more buildings which she could not really accurately describe or compare to others on Earth. Many of the buildings were engraved with figurines, scripture, or symbols of which she could only guess as to the meaning. The colors also ranged significantly, which should have clashed horribly, but instead it made the entire city seem vibrant and alive.

A city that was calling to be explored and experienced to its fullest.

Night was falling, and it seemed like there was an ethereal mist which resided over it, making it slightly hazy and mysterious, for lack of a better word. Voice and music wafted upwards, haunting and beautiful melodies that she'd never heard on Earth. Although interestingly, the more she listened, the more she could hear some chords and sounds that sounded like they were originally Human.

A medley of different music from different species?

"Speculmnis," the Bringer said, moving a hand to display it. "A celebration of life and what all have to offer the galaxy."

"It isn't real," Yang shook her head. "It can't be."

The Bringer's eyes of purple fire just looked at her. "Does it truly matter? It is real, regardless of if it resides on this world or another. If you need additional reason, your Forge is within. Check your hologram if you doubt."

She did, and he was right. Which at least told her that this place…it wasn't real.

"Yet before you enter…" the Bringer motioned her over to him. "You will need something more appropriate. Something that is worthy of this place, and the role you desire to hold." He entered one of the alien ornate rooms, which was simply covered in luxury, with stained glass, carpets, and tastefully integrated color schemes that brought the room to light.

In the center of it was a suit of armor.

Yang approached it hesitantly, giving it a closer look. It was…one of the most impressive pieces of…well, anything she'd seen in her life. Calling it merely armor was too simple a word; it was a piece of artwork. Something worthy of a Battlemaster, which made what she was wearing now look ragged and simple by comparison.

A deep red colored the majority of the armor pieces, with black serving to accent the rest of the suit. The aesthetic reminded her of a cross between the scale mail of a knight, but also a dragon with hundreds of small overlapping plates over the arms and legs, while the chest was a solid plate. The overlapping plates made it sparkle in the light, and pleasing to look at.

A black piece of reinforced cloth wrapped around the back and sides of the waist, some small additional protection for the legs, while a blood-red cape fell from the shoulders almost to the ground. Walking around it, she was…happy…to see that the Chinese flag was emblazoned on the collar of the armor, a touch she'd appreciated from the XCOM armor.

The helmet itself was medieval and intimidating. It reminded her of a cross between the spartan helmet, and one from medieval times. The eyepieces were armored, and the gap which would normally remain open in a spartan helmet was closed in red bands of metal. The helmet top was smooth, and there were pieces which covered the ears which resembled dragon wings.

"This was created specifically for you to use in your future battles," the Bringer said as she admired it. "Regardless of what you decide, you will certainly find it useful."

"Even if I use it to kill your people," she said, half-paying attention. "Generous…"

"Perhaps," the Bringer didn't sound insulted. "Yet death holds nothing over us. You will merely be giving them what they desire. I will leave you to put it on – assuming you wish it, of course."

She merely nodded. If he was just going to give it to her…well…no point in turning it down. There was the possibility that all of this was an elaborate illusion, but in this case she didn't think he was lying. Paradise certainly had the resources to make this, unfortunately, so it wasn't out of the question. She turned to see he was gone, shrugged, and worked to change out of her suit into the new one.

The measurements were perfect, and the suit allowed for a full range of motion far better than her old suit. It wasn't heavy, but weighty enough to where she didn't feel like she was wearing just light clothes. The HUD had options for both English and Chinese, something she appreciated, and it appeared there were a few features of the armor she'd have to experiment with.

The Bringer at least knew how to make quality stuff.

When she walked back out, she was surprised to see that the form the Bringer had taken was…different. No longer was it an older man, but one much younger and taller. The skin had an attractive glow to it, and he wore a muted-colored tunic and pants; slightly exotic and formal, but nothing overly elaborate.

Aside from the eyes which were now a glowing red, he had taken an annoyingly attractive form. She narrowed her eyes under the helmet. "Cute."

"We should aspire to look our best in this place," he said with a smile, the voice still carrying with it the undertones of power, but now it had a much richer and melodic quality to it. "Let us continue, child."

So they continued walking, and began mingling with the crowd of Caretakers and other soldier types she remembered from Paradise. But unlike the station, these Caretakers were ornately dressed in curiously old-time Earthen fashions, some close to Victorian. Decorated masks obscured their faces, and some simply wore ornate helmets.

The music grew more intense and there was some cheering and clapping in the distance; a celebration of some sort she wanted to go see.

No. Focus on completing this.

This is all a distraction.

She found it a little more easy to resist than it might have been otherwise. She'd never been the most social of people, nor particularly interested in parties and the like. Although she'd wanted when she was younger to know what it was like to completely put yourself out there without second-guessing. It was the wrong place for someone reserved like herself, yet she still wondered…

"The dances," the Bringer said, in response to her unspoken question as to what the commotion was. "We could go observe for ourselves. There is no rush, after all."

She clenched a fist, more to keep herself focused than out of emotion. "I have a job to do."

Something that was becoming more and more difficult to focus on. Maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed like the air itself was tinged with psionic energy and tinted with silver moonlight. She just wanted to stop and wander, perhaps eat some of the food or just listen to the hypnotic and rising music.

No. Focus.

She pressed on.

And froze.

Standing in the crowd, one of the few who wore no mask or helmet covering their face, was her dead mother, conversing and laughing at something one of the Caretakers was saying. She was dressed more simply than most of the crowd, and she looked exactly as Yang remembered. Not a day older than the day of her death.

"What is she doing here?" Her voice felt dead even to her, the sword appearing in her hand instinctively.

"Living." The Bringer answered simply. "You have been destined for great things since the beginning, Yang. I would not let her simply expire when she was dying. It would be a cruel end to a young and defiant life. She deserved more, she deserved Paradise. And now she will live without the fear of death again. She is proud of you."

"If…" Yang took a shaky breath and her mother caught a glimpse of her, and even through the helmet, seemed to know it was her. With a wide smile, she gestured for her to come. "If you could reach her…why did you not save her?"

"She was saved," the Bringer insisted. "You are seeing her now."

"No!" Yang shook her head violently. "That's not her. It's whatever part of her you wanted to live on. You found her, you could have healed her if you really cared!"

"To what end?" He spread his arms. "Her inexplicable healing would have caused more pain and hardship not just for her, but yourself and your father. A choice needed to be made…and it has proven to be the right one." He motioned to the woman who stood a short distance away. "She wants to speak to her daughter again. She wants to be with you again. You want that too. Nothing can ever hurt her again."

The woman who was her mother – regardless of the truth or not, for she felt too real for Yang to ignore – stood and waited, an arm outstretched and a wavering smile as she wondered why her daughter was not coming.

But the truth was that her mother was dead. She was still dead. This thing…it wasn't her mother. It was a pretend trick at best, or a horrific taunt at worst. The Bringer was no better than the Sovereigns, or the Synthesized, or any of the other would-be rulers of the galaxy. He was just as manipulative, just as driven by selfishness and power as the rest of them.

He would go so far as to plot her life years in advance; engineer it just for this moment. To let an innocent woman die to gain some leverage over her in a bid to make her willingly join his mad cult.

Maybe she could join and be happy. She could live in euphoria, conditioned under the Bringer's intoxicating power and never be sad, afraid, or hurt again. She could have everything she wanted or could want. It could very well all be hers. The chance of a lifetime that most would strive for.

But…

But it wouldn't be real.

She would only feel what He wanted her – allowed – her to feel.

She wouldn't be physically dead, but she would be fake.

A fake woman, existing with a fake mother, in a fake reality, feeling fake thoughts and desires.

Life was cruel, dangerous, and terrifying at time. Yet it could also be rewarding, uplifting, and joyful.

Real.

She would work to make the real world better for others. Not impose a fake alternative.

Tears stung her eyes as she closed them, reaching out in the saturated city around her. The power in her grasp, and she would harness it for one final purpose. With a flash she swung her sword out and decapitated the body of the Bringer's vessel, and with a free hand clenched a fish and crushed everything in the area around her.

The illusions around her played their parts as their limbs and bodies exploded in mixtures of flesh and different colors of blood. No time to scream even, her mother – or the body at least – was turned inside out in a moment. Fake as it was, it made her hurt all over. The ornate structures and buildings cracked and tumbled into rubble and strips of metals and materials. Creaks, groans, and pops filled her ears as the music turned from a haunting melody to a fractured symphony before it vanished from the wind.

She didn't realize she'd let out a scream initially, but when she finished, her voice ragged and raw, she knew it was needed. All of the pent-up emotions that had gathered on this trial…they needed an outlet, and the pure destruction she wielded served enough as one. With shaking hands, she lowered them and looked around at the carnage.

The Bringer's vessel now stood opposite her, but now looked on in clear disapproval.

"Leave," she spat, lifting her sword again. "You lose today. I will never join you. I will make sure you and your cult are purged from the face of this galaxy. We may die in the process, but when we live, what we feel will be real. It will be us. I will not submit to you, I will help forge a path forward free of you parasites of this galaxy."

She directed her telekinetic power towards the vessel. "Now go!" Before it could be unleashed, the vessel vanished, leaving her alone.

Wiping off her blade, she stepped through the now-dissipated city as the illusion collapsed, to the Forge she could see a short ways ahead. Allowing the tears which had leaked from her eyes to dry on her face, she pressed on forwards. The worst seemed past. It seemed over.

She would finish the Trial.

She felt something change in her. It was almost like a comforting blanket which was drowning out white noise she never realized was so loud. Soon it became silent and clear. No noise; no distraction; no voices.

Yang knew that she had won then. Now the Bringer would soon have no power over her.

Her mind was her own, and it would never be broken again by another.

The Bringer knew that too now, and yet his final words which appeared in her mind were devoid of threats, anger, or emotion. They were, much like how they'd been, merely filled with a calm confidence that left her feeling cold long after they finally dissipated in her mind.

You will understand eventually child. Not today. Perhaps not in the near future. But you will.

And when you do…

I will be waiting to welcome you to Paradise.

To be continued in Chapter 46

Voice of the Dread Lord

A/N: Probably the last chapter before Christmas, so Merry Christmas everyone. Get ready for the end of Act III. It's going to be rather important.

- Xabiar