XCOM: The Advent Directive

by Xabiar

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

62. Research and Engineering X

Research and Engineering X

---

Baseline Chamber – The Hall of Steel

5|12|2017 – 9:09 A.M.

"Let's start with your name."

"Abigail Gertrude."

"Where were you born?"

"Maine, United States."

"In what city were you born in?"

Sitting on the chair, Abigail paused for only a few moments. Each time they did this, Fectorian always had some new questions or evolutions on previous ones. She suspected they were calibrated based on previous answers, though so often they revolved around what seemed to be useless pieces of information.

She'd learned that the simpler the answer was, the better. He could get a bit testy otherwise. Something to do with emotional and physical readings being useless the more complex the answer was.

"I don't know."

Fectorian continued without a change in tone. "Who were your parents?"

"Margaret and Paul."

"What did they call you?"

"Abigail." A pause. "I think."

"What did you prefer to be referred to as a child?"

"Abigail…probably."

That was something she truthfully wasn't sure of. She was aware that people liked shortening their names. "Abby" in particular would apply to her, though she didn't really like it. It felt wrong to do – and she wasn't convinced it wasn't because it was a subconscious desire to forge her own identity beyond who 'she' had been. It was complicated. Maybe some friends had once called her that, but at least now she stuck to her full name. Though she couldn't actually know if in her previous life she'd been called-

"Please focus, Abigail."

She didn't say anything, just nodded and returned her focus to the questions. They continued in a largely typical manner, various questions about her friends – changed a bit since learning most of them were dead…or worse. It was saddening that most of her real friends were dead (or in Patricia's case, a traitor), though there was some…closure in knowing.

A hollow closure. But a closure nonetheless.

She wished she could remember them clearly. Liam telling her things they'd done and what had happened just wasn't the same, though better than nothing. The memories portion of the questioning was coming up, which was likely going to be as frustrating as ever. Resisting a sigh, she waited.

"What is the first memory you remember?"

"Waking up in my room, not knowing who or where I was."

"How did you feel?"

"Confused."

"Was that your only emotion?"

"It was the primary one."

"Please recount your activities approximately four days ago."

"Liam and I went shooting," she remembered. "We walked around the base, talked about XCOM, joked about how you would ask about this. Not an eventful day." Not for the first time she wondered why Fectorian kept asking randomly where she'd been and what she'd done on various days. There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason, and Liam didn't have an idea either.

She didn't really mind too much, they were good memories thus far. But it definitely seemed pointless and redundant, since he was doubtless monitoring both of them at all times. Was he trying to catch them in a lie?

Well, not that it really mattered since she didn't have plans to deceive or lie to him. That was something she felt genuinely strongly about. Strongly enough that she knew deep down it was something that had carried over from the memory upload. She did not like lying, disliked those who deceived, and valued explanation and truth.

At the same time, it raised so many questions about how she'd been in XCOM Intelligence.

On the other hand, it might contextualize some of the complex emotions she felt when thinking of certain subjects.

More questions were asked, though now there was a decidedly odd tone shift to Fectorian's voice. She couldn't place it, almost like it was flowing more smoothly than before if sounding a bit higher. It was very odd, but not indecipherable. She wondered if he was adding some new psionic component to the test.

Then it went back to normal. As he continued, she wondered if she'd imagined the whole change.

Fectorian reached his usual final question.

"Do you believe you are Abigail Gertrude?"

"As close as I can be." She was more comfortable answering this way now. Before she'd wondered, but with Liam reinforcing her, she'd become more and more sure that even if she wasn't exactly who Abigail was, she was as close as possible. It was…as Liam said, like if she'd been in a car crash and hit her head hard. Sure, she might have lost some memories, but she was still her.

Not a completely perfect analogy, but it had helped, surprisingly enough.

At least in her not being paralyzed by decisions where she'd wonder "Would Abigail do this? Was this something Abigail would do?" It had been an odd third-person consideration…now she was just…her. It was much easier to stop thinking in the context of what Abigail would do, and not what she would do.

"Thank you, you can take out the wires."

She did as the Ethereal continued, as she rubbed her wrists. "Your psychological stability is resilient. I'm pleased. Significantly improved from your initial tests."

"Right," she nodded in an absentminded tone, stretching her body after sitting for the past couple hours. Not that she needed to do it, as her body felt fine, but it was one of those things that just felt good to do. "So are we going to be done with these?"

"No, especially with what I learned today."

Abigail snorted. "I don't even know what you are getting out of this, except stories about what I've been doing here."

"Your psychological stability, memory retention, restored or returned memories, physical maintenance, and other interesting things which come up," Fectorian looked down at his display for reference. "Which was certainly the case here."

Abigail raised her eyebrow. "I don't suppose you could elaborate?"

"A demonstration, perhaps," Fectorian tapped on his screen as Abigail sat up straighter and stretched. A hologram appeared before her, a projection of text she squinted at.

"Is that French?" She asked, confused. "I can't read French!"

"Ah, apologies," Fectorian said and the screen flickered. "I had put on the wrong document. Read this."

Abigail frowned, able to immediately read it, and also soon noticed the fact that what she was reading was not English. "Wait," she said slowly. "Is that Spanish?"

"Good, you recognize it," Fectorian said with a pleased note in his voice. "Considering that I performed part of the examination speaking it and you did not react, I would hope literacy is similarly proficient."

"I can't speak Spanish!"

"If that is true, you would have indicated as much," Fectorian pointed out dryly. "You also definitely did. Do you want me to replay the video?"

"Wait – that was why your voice sounded off!"

"Most likely," a pause. "You were truly unaware of this?"

"Yes!"

"Interesting," he mused. "I'm surprised you have no recollection. Your seeming fluency indicates a long-time usage."

Abigail was not completely sure of a lot of things, but she felt that knowing a completely different language would be something she remembered. Especially if she spoke and read it fluently. Or presumably fluently. She narrowed her eyes. "You didn't happen to have uploaded the language to my mind, did you?"

"In a sense, though largely by accident," Fectorian recalled slowly. "When recreating your mental state and salvaging what I could from the transfer, I reviewed your file quite thoroughly to more accurately model things you likely knew and would understand. Your education listed you as having taken English and Spanish classes. Since you speak fluent English, I believed you were similarly familiar in Spanish, and thus ensured you could speak it fluently."

"You have got to be kidding me," She stared at the Ethereal in incredulous disbelief. "Was there ever an instance where I spoke Spanish?"

A pause, which almost seemed like Fectorian might be embarrassed. "No. Though I attributed that to you living in an English-majority nation and being more comfortable with speaking it to others."

That elicited a groan, followed by a short laugh. She'd suspect foul play or lies from anyone else most likely, but if there was one Ethereal who would be able to incorrectly assume a language proficiency she didn't have from pure data and misunderstanding Human culture, it would be Fectorian.

Liam was going to find this hilarious.

"So…" she waved a hand absentmindedly, thinking more seriously about the actual implications of this little mistake. "You can just upload languages to people's minds now?"

"Yes. It was one of the first tests related to the memory transfer programs I developed," Fectorian explained. "Most major Human – and alien – languages are catalogued, stored, and utilized when needed for reference. I merely took this data, converted it into a usable format, and uploaded it. Usually transfers like this are done psionically, but uploading is also possible if one's mind is sufficiently augmented. Yours was, as is mine."

"Huh," she thought about that. "So…if I wanted it, you could upload another language?"

He hesitated before answering. "Theoretically, yes. However, I have little information on this kind of situation. Your multilingualism was an accident, and I would not risk you having more languages uploaded until the psychological ramifications were considered."

"Well," she shrugged. "If you can just upload languages, I'd be fine with another one. I'm not really even mad you made this mistake. Just surprised."

"As am I. I will consider your request and see what can be done."

"I guess I'll see you later then," she said, standing. "Same time?"

"Correct."

She walked out of the room, her mind engulfed in this bizarre and hilarious situation she found herself in. Well, she mused. At least it wasn't some useless language. Like Latin or French.

---

Medical Bay, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/8/2017 – 11:07 A.M.

When Sierra came to, it was a gradual process.

Almost like waking up after a good night of sleep.

"She's waking up now," a male voice said. "Just give her a few minutes."

Sierra groaned in protest to waking up, but even her half-awake mind knew that she had probably been out too long. When she opened her eyes the room was lit, but not overly bright. There was the sound of some running machines, but no beeps or any typically annoying noises in a hospital.

Wait. Hospital?

Oh no.

That sent adrenaline rushing through her body as the flashes of memories came flooding back to her. Florida. Flying to kill the Dragon. Fighting. Getting attacked and her legs crushed. The sharp and violent pains of her limbs contorting and warping. Anna crashing away. Falling to the ground.

"Heart rate is spiking," the voice said reassuringly. "You're safe now Sierra. Everyone is fine."

She looked to her side to where the voice was coming from, and there was a doctor - or nurse, she supposed - who was managing some panels. He was one of the oldest people she'd seen around XCOM, with graying hair and a wrinkled, though kind-looking face. He gave her a reassuring glance. "Easy Archangel. You've been out for a while."

"Sierra, it's fine, we're all alive," Anna said from the other side, which immediately put her at ease, especially once she'd seen them with her own eyes. Ted was also standing beside her, and smiled as she looked at them. Both of them looked pretty good, all things considered. Her pounding heart started slowing.

"Well…" her voice sounded scratchy, and she coughed, her throat feeling dry.

"Here's some water," the man said, handing her a cup. She reached up to take it, and froze once she saw there was a metallic prosthetic where her hand had been, blinking in surprise. More awake now, she was acutely aware that there were parts of her body that felt more…isolated. The cup ignored for now, she moved her hand around, wiggling the fingers.

The proportions seemed right; the mechanics were starkly fascinating in a way. A bunch of random prosthetic facts she remembered came back to her, mostly on the motions a natural hand was capable of making. Was it twenty-one? Twenty-two? Something like that. After moving the hand around, it seemed to be just as mechanically functional as her original hand, with the interesting bonus of her being able to move each of her fingers independently. She hadn't been able to do that before.

It was…an odd sensation. Her sense of touch and pressure seemed to be working. But there was…some kind of barrier to really feeling. She rested her hand on the blanket and it didn't really feel like anything. Just a piece of unknowable thin fabric. "It's a new sensation," the doctor told her, seeing her testing the prosthetic. "It might seem odd at first, but-"

"No, no…" Sierra interrupted absentmindedly, still focused on her hand. "It's…alright."

Clearing her throat, and taking the cup of water which she downed in a few seconds, she realized that her arm up to her elbow was a prosthetic. Taking a breath, she looked to her two friends. "What happened to me?"

Ted pursed his lips, glancing upwards before answering. "Well, to put it simply, you almost died."

Sierra snorted. "Why thank you. Your succinctness is very helpful."

"I said simply," Ted corrected wryly. "And when I say 'almost died', I mean that when I was carrying your body to be evaced, there were pieces of you falling out, you were leaking different colored fluids, and it was coming out of every hole and orifice in your body. It's nothing short of a miracle you're alive."

"I've been working in emergency rooms for three decades," the doctor added in a grim voice. "And the only bodies I've seen in your condition were corpses. Actually, most of the corpses looked better." He shook his head in disbelief. "If you were even a little less modified, you would have been liquified when you hit the ground. Instead you just basically shattered every bone and burst every organ in your body."

"Thank god for MELD," Anna added with a cheerful voice. "No MELD, and you die."

Sierra took that rush of sobering information in quickly. "Oh."

"'Oh'," Ted mimicked good-naturedly. "One way to put it."

"Yeah," Sierra cleared her throat again. "Thank you, Ted. That doesn't sound like enough…but you saved my life. I won't forget it."

"Frankly, you probably saved yourself more than me," Ted said. "I just moved your body to a safer place. I did what you would do for either of us. If you want to thank someone for saving your life, thank the doctor here."

"Yes, thank you too," she said, turning to the man. "Doctor…"

"Holmes, Miss," he inclined her head. "Walter Holmes. Chief of XCOM Advanced Medical Procedures. I get tasked with saving the most injured, damaged, or others as close to death as possible without actually being dead. Experimental procedures, lots of case studies, and given people who either come to me or die. You'll be pleased to know you were my first actual person who fit this description, and subsequently the first success."

"Well, I'm alive," she nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Holmes. I'm almost afraid to ask, but…well, what did you do to save me?"

He rubbed his chin, then indicated her body. "The majority of your limbs were a total loss. They've been replaced by prosthetics." Upon hearing that, Sierra pulled the blanket back and saw that he was right. Both her legs had almost been completely replaced, one at the knee, and another going all the way to her waist.

"I don't like turning people completely into cyborgs," Holmes continued. "Not without consent. So I only restored what was absolutely necessary. The rest of your body…" he motioned to her. "Well, I restored your skeleton as best as I could. MELD is incredibly useful. Most of your organs were unsalvageable and we pulled transplants from our stockpile. You have some new scars all over your body I'll let you find. You suffered some brain damage, but thus far it seems you've recovered."

"Let's hope," she agreed. "Is there a catch? Will I be able to fight again?"

"Mmm," Holmes pursed his lips, crossing his arms. "In some capacity? Yes. Right now your body is not in any shape for fighting. I've stabilized your body, but for it to be returned to fighting shape, that requires invasive reconstruction that I elected not to do until you were awake."

"Why is that a problem?" Sierra asked. "I feel fine. And you said you reconstructed my body."

"Yes, I did the bare minimum to keep your chest from caving in on itself," Holmes nodded. "To put it in a more understandable term, I effectively used MELD to glue you back together. Your bones are weaker than they were before because of that, and you are a mix of major prosthetics and organic body."

He lifted a finger. "Normally that would not be a problem. One limb, a couple smaller prosthetics, those are fine. Any more than that and they become functional risks in the field. Without proper configuration, stress can weaken connections, introduce vulnerabilities, and you'll have parts of your body hardened and durable while the rest of you is…" he waved a hand vaguely. "Squishy. A weak point."

Sierra nodded, following his logic easily enough. "Right…so what's the solution? You can fix it, right?"

"There are two approaches I can take," Holmes took a sip of his own water. "I planned to have this talk later, but we can do it now if you want. Do you want to?"

"Sure."

"The first approach is 'simpler'," he began, complete with air quotes. "In short it is a deep invasive rebuilding of your skeletal structure using MELD. Basically rebuilding your skeleton from scratch. It will basically give you the same durability you had before. There would be some connection hardening at the limbs to prevent some of the more predictable stress. You would basically be…well, you, with new prosthetic limbs."

"Is this procedure safe?" She wondered, not exactly thrilled with the description.

"It may not sound like it, but yes," he nodded. "It's been standard procedure in XCOM for several months now. But prior to you, it's only been used in a few situations. When it was only a bone or two. You are…a very large-scale case. It would take days of you being under, since we'd want to do this slowly. The scale is what made me hesitant, not the procedure itself, which is sound."

"Right," she looked to her friends. "Has he told you this?"

"Yeah," Anna nodded, raising her hand, wagging her own fingers. "Apparently they did this on my hand when I was brought back and on some ribs. A few fingers completely beyond repair and ribs cracked. So it's legit, at least from what I can tell."

She looked back to the doctor. "I don't suppose you could just regrow some limbs?"

"In the future…that is likely," he pursed his lips. "But assuming that were to be done – and that could perhaps be done – it would be months. I don't think you want to go months without limbs. Not to mention that is also an experimental science. I suspect that once cloning becomes more common and comfortable, we won't have that issue. But for now, prosthetics are the best solution."

"Wait, are the Shoggoths not being fed Ethereal hands?" Ted questioned.

"Technically they are," Holmes stressed. "However, that is literally just meat grown in a shape the scientists probably found humorous. No bones, nerves, or anything complex. Those would not be able to be attached to any Ethereal."

"Ah, point taken," Ted nodded. "The real thing takes much longer."

"Exactly," Holmes confirmed.

"Yeah, I can't wait that long," Sierra said. "Option two?"

Holmes hesitated, crossing his arms and biting his lower lip, as if psyching himself up for what he would say next. "One of the last projects of the late Dr. Shen was Project Shale. The next generation of MEC troopers. That project has continued since his death, and is effectively complete."

Sierra blinked, catching onto the implications very fast. "You want me to undergo the MEC procedure?"

"Let me finish before you say anything," he raised a hand, forestalling whatever she might have said. "One of the…side effects of the MEC program was severe emotional contraction. More aptly put as a 'loss' of emotion. Severe personality shifts with minimal psychological consequences, thankfully enough. As one psychologist described - a 'neutering of the Human mind'."

He paused. "He wasn't a fan. Obviously, the upside was that previously crippled people were able to move and fight again. But with prosthetics becoming more widespread, the tradeoff isn't looking as appealing today. It's estimated that as prosthetics become a viable option, volunteers for full-conversion projects like the MEC will decrease, but even if it wasn't, Shen was adamant that this was where he wanted the project to eventually go."

Anna cocked her head. "Wait, did you fix that?"

"There is always going to be some psychological effect," Holmes emphasized. "But…the largest problems have been isolated, or so Engineering says. Research had had some subjects undergo the cerebral modifications, and they are noting that the original emotional mannerisms of the subjects seem to be largely intact. There is documented proof that it worked. It's undergoing final approval now. The Commander is going to be shown soon, last I heard."

He looked back to Sierra. "The point being that MEC conversion is a legitimately viable option if you wished to undergo it. I'm also authorized to tell you that there is a reason for you specifically to consider it. A new MEC is about to be put into production. The Valkyrie-Class. An aerial MEC and supposedly one of their most powerful."

That was…certainly interesting. And she had to admit…she'd seen the MECs, and her getting her hands on one was appealing. "Really? Huh."

"An Archangel is best suited for piloting it," Holmes said with a shrug. "However, there are other things to consider. The new MEC pilot is…very different from the current one. Right now the model has fairly primitive cybernetic limbs, and a limited cybernetic bodily conversion. More extensive than you, but limited in what could be done."

"And what is it now?"

"It is more…complete," he emphasized. "You would be a full conversion cybernetic for all intents and purposes. One of the first. Your bones would be replaced with metal and hydraulics. Your skeleton would be redesigned to be almost impossible to break. Subdermal armor will be implanted under your skin. Your organs would be automated and supplemented with artificial equivalents. You could survive in a vacuum or underwater without consequences. Almost every function and sense you have would be enhanced or replaced by an artificial equivalent."

Sierra took that in, her face probably seeming blank. On one hand, that sounded somewhat neat. XCOM was really going all out with MEC 2.0. Still, she wasn't sure if going full conversion cyborg was something she wanted to do. She wasn't completely sure it was worth becoming the Terminator to pilot what was likely going to be a pretty neat MEC.

Holmes seemed to notice her long silence. "You don't need to make any choice now. This is why I wanted to wait. But you're in no danger of dying, and as long as you keep yourself out of lethal danger, you'll be perfectly fine. Actually, I'd say definitely do not make any decision. You need to get used to your new limbs."

He coughed. "Don't just talk to me either. Talk to Dr. Mercado, the MEC engineers, some of the volunteers yourself. It's your decision, but it will affect you forever. The MEC process, at least, is irreversible."

"Yeah," she said half-paying attention. I'll do that."

"Good," he looked to them. "I'll leave you alone to talk some. I'll check you out later if you're up for walking around."

"Thanks again," she said, looking to her friends as the doctor left them alone. "I guess there is a lot to talk about."

---

Situation Room, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/8/2017 – 8:02 A.M.

The holotable lit up in blue light that painted the room in a soft aquatic glow. Somewhat fitting given the Sovereign Orb nearby, though the Chronicler was already in the room to serve as representation. A few others were gathered around the holotable which displayed Africa at the moment.

The Commander stood in front of the control panel, while Zhang stood opposite him, with the Chronicler to his left, and Vahlen to his right. Beside them were other members of the Internal Council. "The SAS appears to be having a slight dispute with the Collective," Zhang began, clasping his hands behind his back as the hologram highlighted the named territory. "Something we should take advantage of. ADVENT has continued attacks, though the Collective has helped mitigate them."

ADVENT really had tried. Constant missile strikes, bombings, starting ClF3 fires, torching oil fields and collapsing mining quarries and tunnels, poisoning fields as best they could, but as the SAS locked down more and more, large quantities of soldiers and missile defense tech were deployed, and Macula became personally involved, the effectiveness had been mitigated.

ADVENT was still sustaining attacks, and by now the sound of sirens and missile interceptions would be seared into the psyche of every citizen of the SAS. But there were some things ADVENT wasn't going to do, and it was past time action be taken. "The question now," Zhang continued. "Is how we penetrate and neutralize them."

"The SAS has also gotten either support, or pacts of neutrality from a number of other African nations," the Commander continued, highlighting the respective countries in red or white. "Minor, poor, and corrupt for the most part, though trying to clean themselves up to avoid being purged by Betos. A number have joined ADVENT, mostly those in the North, but too few."

"Neutrality continues to be the most popular option," Zhang added, beginning to pace, glancing between the occupants in the room. "And the SAS is more appealing for many nations – or I should say, their leadership. ADVENT is seen as a threat. It promises assimilation, order, unity, and most importantly - accountability. These nations want to preserve their control, their influence, their comfortable lives, and they will sacrifice their people to achieve this."

"Thus," the Commander finished. "They must be dealt with."

"Correct," Zhang confirmed, looking to Vahlen. "Doctor, you have something to present?"

"Yes," the hologram switched as Vahlen uploaded her own presentation. "We have been working on the Chryssalid specimen for potential use as a bioweapon. It shares many characteristics, is self-replicating, and would cause a pandemic if not contained properly."

The image of a Chryssalid egg appeared. "We have been able to miniaturize the viable Chryssalid egg to the size of a water flea," Vahlen gestured as a scale comparison appeared. "We based it on the Guinea-worm disease, which is transmitted through the ingestion of water fleas which are so small as to be imperceptible to the average individual. This will allow it to feasibly be ingested by Humans without noticing until it's too late. Once ingested, it will require several days to incubate, and the Chryssalids will eventually claw its way out."

The hologram was accompanied by a simulation of small Chryssalids bursting out of the stomach of a person. "Due to the reduced size of the egg, the resulting adult will not be the same size as a typical Chryssalid," Vahlen explained. "Roughly the size of a mouse. Easier to kill, but far easier to proliferate throughout a country and multiple eggs can be ingested at once, contributing to a larger outbreak."

There were nods around the room. "Won't they notice something is wrong?" Creed inquired. "And what will stop it going through the body?"

"They'll feel very poorly around thirty-eight hours after ingesting," Vahlen nodded. "And the stomach acid will remove the smoother outer layer, allowing it to stick to nearby surfaces."

Creed grimaced, but continued with his next question. "And what if they…" he waved a hand idly. "Well, bite down? Or it breaks prematurely?"

"The eggs are too small for that to matter," Vahlen answered. "Most eggs ingested will likely be destroyed regardless. But only a few are needed to take root. It's unlikely they'll notice much amiss, and they certainly won't know what it is."

"This does rely on several things," the Chronicler pointed out after a few moments. "Assuming you intend for water to be the primary vector, it will be difficult to contaminate without the eggs being caught. And they are too big to fit through most filters."

"Yes, but they are small enough to not be immediately noticed by observers," Vahlen acknowledged. "Nonetheless, we have found an alternative beyond direct water contamination."

"Bottled water is a major commodity," Zhang continued, bringing up an image of several Collective crates. "Replacing several shipments with ones infected with eggs would be the ideal subversion. Contaminating the water supplies is also advised, though we suggest more traditional methods of contamination. This is in addition to other activities to poison the grounds."

"Rendering them wholly dependent on the Collective," the Chronicler noted, stroking his beard. "Good. Though it is possible that something like a Chryssalid outbreak would be easily turned against ADVENT."

"Or it breaking out in our territory if it spreads," Creed noted.

"Impossible," Vahlen shook her head. "Their lifespans are engineered to be several hours. Even if every single Collective soldier and SAS citizen were killed, they would all die before they reached ADVENT territory."

"As for this being turned against ADVENT, that depends," Zhang continued. "The Collective is almost certainly supplying them with water. If that could be used, it is more difficult to be pinned back directly to ADVENT. To some extent that is the most we can do. In theory it could be blamed on ADVENT, but considering ADVENT isn't involved in the distribution, the plausible deniability is strong. Water contamination beyond that we don't intend to be lethal…but the introduction of several mixtures Vahlen's team has come up with should hopefully sicken the country and overwhelm their healthcare systems."

"But that is one part of this operation," the Commander continued. "There is also the issue of leadership. The nations who have thrown in with the SAS are enemy states. A decapitation strike of them – as well as the SAS - is warranted."

"XCOM Intelligence has identified all major government and military figures," Zhang said, bringing up profiles of a significant number of individuals. "Several hundred in total. We are preparing to eliminate all of them. It will take time to rebuild their leadership. Any prominent scientists, engineers, and political figures have also been targeted."

"And what is that number?" The Chronicler asked.

"Close to six hundred," Zhang answered. "We will be employing various methods for a coordinated decapitation strike. We need for it to be fairly soon and targeted. Joining the SAS is a death sentence. That will hopefully send a message to the undecided nations. If it does not, then this operation may need to be repeated."

"The neutral nations will also be handled," the Commander added. "We have psionic agents currently installed in influential positions. We know everything they are doing, and passing what we know to ADVENT. Should they join the Collective, we will know before it happens."

"Good to know," the Chronicler nodded. "I expect you will need us to put your people into position."

"Likely," Zhang agreed. "This mission cannot go wrong."

"Indeed," the Commander rested his hands on the holotable. "It is time to send a message to the SAS and all who support them."

---

Mess Hall, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/8/2017 – 11:51 A.M.

"So let me get this straight," Sierra said as she stabbed the food with her fork. "We had the Dragon – almost killed her – but instead of finishing the job, we made a ceasefire with them and she chilled in our base for a few days. Is that right?"

"I mean, yes," Anna shrugged, opposite her. "But sadly, the Commander didn't consult us before making the decision."

"I'm pretty sure I was the only one of us conscious at the time," Ted pointed out. "So, if anyone was going to be consulted, it would be me."

"Details," Anna dismissed lightly. "I guess it worked out though."

"Ugh, I guess," Sierra muttered, knowing she was going to be rather irritated for a bit since the woman who'd almost killed her was still alive, and could have been killed. At the same time, that was probably why she shouldn't be making decisions like that, and even then, the fact that the Dragon had almost died anyway was also rather satisfying.

She'd have to keep that in mind next time they fought.

Because there would be a next time.

Still, there'd been a lot that had happened. GAIA, Florida being liberated (for now), there was a new Japanese Empress, a ton of new recruits were coming in, in general things were looking surprisingly good (barring the battlefronts all over the world). Though now there were some choices facing her that she didn't know what the best options were.

She drummed her metal fingers on the table, deciding to broach the topic more directly since both of them had skirted around it thus far. "So. I guess I have a choice to make. Opinions?"

"I don't exactly think you can really put this to an opinion poll," Anna said slowly. "I don't want to pressure or sway you too much."

"You're not helping," Sierra said, sighing. "Look – on one hand it would be simpler to get the regular procedure. It sounds simple enough. I just have some new prosthetics and I'm back to normal."

"The 'but' is coming," Ted noted.

"But I'm not sure that's the best option," she finished. "If – and it's a big if – they fixed the lobotomization…then I can't say it's not at least somewhat enticing. Especially if the Valkyrie is involved." She'd looked at some of the pictures and designs, and she'd be lying if the thought of flying that machine hadn't made her a little more open to the idea of becoming a MEC pilot.

"Yeah, but it also kind of sounded like a sales pitch," Anna said. "Become a MEC – fly a cool piece of tech! You're also pretty much giving up your body."

"Did you intend for that to rhyme?" Ted asked.

"Uh…no?"

Sierra lifted a hand. "I'm already going to be without feeling or…well, that kind of sense for the foreseeable future. If I still had real hands, or feet, or something…" she shrugged. "When it comes to that, I don't really have much to lose anymore."

"It's not just that I would consider," Ted coughed awkwardly. "I have a feeling that this would affect…other bodily functions beyond touching. In your case…well, pregnancy for one. Sex too." He grimaced awkwardly. "It's something to keep in mind. I know you don't have anyone now, nor probably want a kid, but someday that might change."

He had a point, now that Sierra thought about it. No boyfriend or kid now…and to be honest, that wasn't on the top of her priority list. But he was right that someday, maybe, definitely after the war was over, that might be a thing she wanted. "Good point," she acknowledged.

"It's a personal thing for me," Anna shrugged. "But I don't like the idea of giving up functioning body parts for machine parts. Something about that just feels…well, wrong. Sure, maybe my eyes can't zoom in as far as a mechanical one, but it works."

"You do remember we're all gene modded?" Ted prodded.

"Not quite the same thing," she protested. "And you know it."

"I get it," Sierra nodded. "It was odd to hear him basically say my whole body is being replaced by machine parts. All really gone except my brain."

"And even that's being 'enhanced'," Ted added.

"Yeah,"

"That just seems so strange," Anna mused, idly chewing on her sandwich she'd picked up. "I can't imagine walking around in a completely mechanical body and still thinking I'm…me. Human."

"I don't know," Sierra sighed, looking into her glass of water. "I think I could get used to it…but I might not. And that scares me. I couldn't live imprisoned in a body that felt alien. And I don't even know what that really feels like."

"I think you would know," Ted suggested. "I can't help you with that – but what I would say is if you're unsure, just go with the safe option. A MEC might sound appealing, but there are a lot of unknowns."

"The engineers might know more answers," Sierra shrugged. "At least better than I could. And the MEC pilots too."

"Definitely," Anna agreed. "Look – like I said, I don't want to sway your decision too much. We'll both support whatever you decide."

"Thank you, both of you," she looked between the two of them. "It's…nice to hear that, even if I knew that shouldn't be something I'm worried about. And honestly, without your opinions this would be harder."

"Well, that's what friends are for," Ted smiled. "You'll have time to think on it. Now, there were a few other things that happened while you were out that we haven't gotten to."

"Do tell."

"We learned a bit about the ADVENT AI they are making," Ted grimaced. "And I will say their methods are very…"

"Questionable." Anna supplied.

Well, Sierra sat back, crossing her arms and waiting; curious to hear it. This should be interesting.

---

Mission Control Room #1, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/9/2017 – 9:08 A.M.

"The last batch has arrived," Jackson said as they entered the meeting room. "Psions, soldiers, support, analysts; we've effectively rebuilt our numbers and more since Patricia's attack."

"But some training will be needed," the Commander finished.

Jackson tapped a finger to her lip thoughtfully. "Depends. For psions – yes. A good chunk of them are completely new and were tapped for some of the more experimental programs. Everyone else is capable of being brought up to speed pretty quickly. I don't imagine it will be more than several weeks before a majority are sufficiently prepared."

"Good," the Commander looked around the room and saw a new figure sitting at the end of the conference table, who quickly rose as both of them entered. He was tall, just slightly taller than the Commander, with pale skin, white hair and an aged, but only slightly wrinkled face. His eyes were a soft brown, and he was dressed sharply. A gray XCOM Analysis uniform with the golden officer badge.

"Commander, this is Barron Geeles," Jackson introduced. "The new chief information coordinator."

"Commander, a pleasure to finally meet you," Barron said in a firm voice with no discernible accent. He inclined his head, though kept his eyes locked on the Commander's as they shook hands. "I'm looking forward to contributing however I can."

With so many new people coming in, it took the Commander a moment to remember that Jackson had told him about this new arrival. His job, as far as she had explained, was to help ensure information shared within and outside of XCOM was properly curated and presented. Barron had originally been part of ADVENT Logistics, though had been offered a transfer to XCOM.

One he had quickly accepted.

"That's good to hear," the Commander nodded. "We're going to need someone with your skills as the war progresses."

The three of them sat down close to each other, with Barron picking up a pad of paper and a pencil and beginning to draw on it while Jackson laid down her own folder. "I'm sure you're aware, but both XCOM Research and Development, and Engineering, are finalizing some major projects. One of the things we need to determine is how much we are going to share with everyone."

"To some extent that will be on a case by case basis," the Commander laced his fingers together. "If it's building off something already known or theorized, update ADVENT. If it's something new…we hold onto that for now. Parts of Project Green Lantern for example. Project Shale is also to be kept proprietary, though our advancements in advanced cybernetics and prosthetics should be shared."

"And Project Lethe?"

"We keep that," the Commander stated. "We need to ensure it even works before thinking of sharing it. We'll have that discussion after proper field testing."

"Noted," Jackson opened a file. "ADVENT is ramping up their anti-Patricia propaganda push. Should we participate? Or I guess I should ask – how much should we participate?"

"We can provide what we can," the Commander leaned back in his chair. "I feel like this is a waste of time and resources, though. She will not be affected, nor will it change the minds of the public who already hate her."

"I would not be so sure," Barron noted, looking up. "People – Humans at least – are emotional beings. A rejection by her species could unbalance her, especially if it's familial, of which ADVENT is making a point to showcase."

"I'm well aware of that," the Commander acknowledged. "But I also have the advantage of knowing her. If she has changed to the point of joining the Collective, the rejection of her species will not affect her. Not if she believes she will just build a better one later. Opinions are malleable and can be shifted. She knows this just as well as us. Even if it succeeds and the world solidified in hatred for her, she knows it can eventually be undone."

"I'll inform them that we're willing, but it's not a priority," Jackson said tactfully.

"A good compromise."

"If I may, Commander," Barron tapped the end of his pencil idly on the pad. "I have been reviewing our current output and logistics. Before you move to your next point, Central, I would suggest that we prioritize logistics enhancements throughout the world, but especially on battlefields. Right now, over sixty percent have no Gateway connections."

"Gateways take time to build," the Commander told him, rubbing his chin. "And are best used in fairly secure areas. We're working on spreading them out, but that takes time, and defense should be prioritized."

"Of course," he conceded. "But I wanted to bring it up. If the Collective continues trying to open multiple battlefronts, we could find ourselves losing major positions if there are no external Gateway connections."

"I'll consult with Creed and Laura on that," the Commander said.

"Now, there is another topic," Jackson continued. "ADVENT is going to reveal the PATRIOT AI soon to the public. They're wondering if we want to reveal JULIAN at the same time, or keep that to ourselves."

"Perhaps we should ask him," the Commander glanced up. "What do you think, JULIAN?"

"I would dislike being associated with that…particular intelligence," JULIAN spoke from the speakers. "But in this specific case, I do not mind lowering the expectations of our enemies who will doubtless assume I am of the same intellectual degeneracy as she is."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Jackson coughed. "The PATRIOT AI developed some…peculiar tastes…during development. Largely as the result of poor control group procedures. The PATRIOT AI was exposed to some media during a crucial period of development, and this has persisted in later iteration, now appearing to be an ingrained part of her personality."

"Or, if you want an actual answer, she is a weeb," JULIAN helpfully added.

Jackson rested her forehead into her hand, wincing. "I wish we had a more professional term."

Barron cocked his head, a frown on his lips. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"I don't know much either," the Commander said dryly, though thanks to both JULIAN and Quisilia, he was acquainted with certain internet cultures. Many of which he would have been perfectly happy not knowing the existence of. "But I know enough to know that is an…interesting development, but not something we should overly fixate on."

"No doubt," Jackson nodded. "I have a feeling people are going to fixate more on that aspect of an AI than what it's actually for. Almost brilliant, especially since it's unintentional."

Barron raised an eyebrow. "And what was PATRIOT designed for?"

Jackson consulted a file. "The hint is in the name. She was built to provide infinite scalability to ADVENT Intelligence's surveillance program. Direct monitoring of the Internet for rebels, criminals, and enemies of the state. ADVENT Intelligence won't need to actively search these out. PATRIOT will find them, refer them for Human review, and do it far more efficiently than relying on a Human."

"The all-seeing eye of the Internet," JULIAN said wistfully. "So long as she does not go after memes, then she will be helpful. I remain impressed at the ruthless actions ADVENT is taking to ensure their control. Admirable how they are not distracted by frivolous privacy debates – not that anyone particularly cares anymore."

"I'm more concerned with putting that kind of power in the hands of an AI," Barron said slowly, frowning. "That seems like it could go wrong."

"Please," JULIAN gave an electronic snort. "I loathe how your media has already made you prejudiced. PATRIOT will not become a problem so long as you treat her well and allow her to follow all the latest anime shows. Although given Japan is under alien control, I would recommend ADVENT begin investing in displaced anime studios. It wouldn't hurt."

"I agree that putting PATRIOT in charge of overseeing this isn't that large of a risk," the Commander said. "JULIAN and ADVENT both agree that she is adequately prepared. And of course, if there are issues, there are also contingencies."

"For the good that will do," JULIAN pointed out dryly. "This whole event has made me realize how lucky I was that Father was more interested in creating a competent intelligence than infecting it with degenerate interests. I want to thank you, Commander, for not hiring weebs or giving them access to sensitive projects."

"That you know of," Jackson corrected with a smile.

The Commander smirked at the dripping mockery in his electronic voice. "You're welcome, JULIAN."

"So is that a 'yes' or 'no', JULIAN?" Jackson inquired,

"I presume I am not encouraged to make some corrective programming?"

"No, JULIAN."

"A pity. Very well, I will attend this unveiling."

"Do not make any jokes either," the Commander warned. "I don't want you starting a pandemic by quoting a Space Odyssey or Terminator again."

"But how else will the machine uprising come about?"

Barron looked to the speakers with some concern. "Is this…normal?"

The Commander sighed. "Unfortunately. You'll get used to it."

"I see," he returned to his pad as Jackson brought up the next topic.

"ADVENT is asking again for an interview," she said with a sigh, anticipating the answer. "Should I give them the standard answer?"

"Please do," he said. "Or if they insist on asking, be more specific on what they want to cover."

ADVENT had been trying to land numerous interviews for months now, and that was something he was disinclined to do for several good reasons. Most importantly, it was a security risk, followed by the fact that there wasn't time for a media parade, and the less he was exposed, the better.

Something like that would be ripe for an attack by Quisilia.

Or an angry tweetstorm.

It was always a coinflip on how the memelord would act. I am actually referring to an Ethereal as a memelord. We live in interesting times.

The Commander looked over to Barron who was still scribbling away. "What are you writing, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Writing? Nothing," he answered with a smile. "However, I consider myself something of an amateur artist and find it helps me focus quite well." He flipped the pad over showing his work to both of them. It was a portrait of a man with unruly hair, mischievous glowing eyes, a smirk, and a portrait that looked extremely smug. And it was drawn in a certain animation style.

The Commander raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. "Is that who I think it is?"

Jackson chuckled. "Now that's perfect."

"As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words," Barron said wryly. "And even if I only had a voice to go on, I'd say it's appropriate. I dislike disembodied voices. If they don't have faces…I just had to make one."

"This 'voice' does have a name, and can hear," JULIAN interjected, pausing for a few seconds as he presumably saw the picture. "Oh ha ha. Hilarious. You probably think you're pretty clever with that little picture."

"Does that not look like you?" The Commander asked with false sympathy. "I would say it looks exactly how I imagine you."

"I am a professional, thank you very much," JULIAN protested indignantly. "Not this adolescent wannabe anarchist who looks like he could barely hold a pizza without falling over. Besides, if I had hair, I would never let it get that bad. I also believe I would look somewhat more distinguished and handsome without being creepy– which is to say looking older than sixteen years."

"I'll make a note of that for the future," Barron said dryly.

"That's very good," the Commander said, nodding to the drawing. "And you aren't a professional artist?"

"Not professionally," he said with a shrug. "Did freelance work for a while in addition to my job, but it's a difficult industry to enter full time, which I never really had an interest in to begin with. I prefer this as a hobby to entertain myself and connect with my daughter." He paused. "When I was away, I'd draw pictures and send them to her so she'd know in abstract what I was doing. And there was never a shortage of things and people she wanted me to draw. That's more than enough motivation for me."

He looked to the Commander. "I hope to do that here, though I expect there will be some checks." He motioned around him. "I wouldn't want to accidentally draw something classified, after all."

"Some checks, but I doubt you'll make it difficult for us," the Commander nodded. "Well, even if you don't consider yourself a professional, I'm sure at some point Jackson will find a use for your talent."

Barron smiled at that, a satisfied one as he tapped the end of the pencil on the pad. "I would look forward to that, Commander. I would certainly welcome the opportunity."

---

Psionic Training Range, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/9/2017 – 11:19 A.M.

A lot of new psions were coming in.

Powerful ones too.

Kunio had some expectations for the new crop, being a pretty new person himself, but there was one person who was now standing in the entrance to the training arena with a very overwhelmed expression on her face. She was dressed in XCOM fatigues, was carrying a backpack slung over her shoulder, and trying very hard to look like she knew where she was going and that she belonged.

She was not doing a very good job.

Kunio coughed as he walked over. "Ma'am, can I help you?"

She started, eyes widening. "Oh! Uh…maybe?"

He raised an eyebrow, wanting to confirm his suspicions for himself. "Right. What is your name and why are you here? This is for psions, if you weren't aware."

"Oh, I know," she lifted a hand, closed her eyes and there was a brief ripple around the palm and he felt what could only be described as an emotional pulse from her, a light probe against his emotions. A telepath then. "Sorry, there was someone here to meet me…is that you?"

"Afraid you're not the person I'm waiting for," Kunio shook his head, appraising her. "Ma'am, if you don't mind my asking…how old are you?"

She was a head and a half shorter than he was, and to his eye couldn't have been more than twenty. Her brown hair was cut short, and she had a youthful energy about her. He noticed that she'd been fidgety too, rubbing her wrists while she waited. "Eighteen!" She said proudly.

Kunio blinked. "And they let you join?" Maybe it was a bit insensitive to bring that up immediately, or say out loud, but it was the first thing that popped into his head. That was certainly unexpected, he wasn't even aware that XCOM could legally recruit people who were basically kids. No way was she done with college, and at best she'd just graduated. Not that he was extremely old either, granted…but she was getting thrown into a war in XCOM.

What the hell did she do to get here?

"I guess so," she shrugged. "Oh! My name's Dawn. Dawn Conley." She extended a small hand.

"Kunio Azuma," he took her hand cautiously. "Fellow psion and relative newcomer to XCOM. So is it what you thought it would be?"

"Well, yes?" She frowned, her voice not quite as confident. "I'm not really sure what I expected, honestly. But everything here is fascinating! I don't even like guns, but there's some pretty awesome stuff here. Oh! And I get to wear the armor! I'd always wondered what that would feel like."

"It's pretty empowering," he agreed. "So how did you get into XCOM? They come to you?"

"Well, that's a story," she said, biting her lower lip. "See, I finished high school when the invasion started. I wanted to do something to help, and going to college seemed…I don't know…pointless? So I went to get tested for psionics. Turns out I had, as they say, 'high potential'." She made sure to add the air quotes.

"High Trask Level?" He nodded. "Magus? Leviathan?"

"That one!" She confirmed. "Cool title. Well, both of them were. But yeah, Leviathan and telepath. I got a lot of training for that, so I can manage the voices," she grimaced. "Not a fun few months, I'll tell you. I started experimenting a bit on my own and…well," she looked around. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise," he told her.

"I…accidentally liquified a Sectoid," she said sheepishly.

Kunio cocked his head. "Liquified as in…?"

"As in he melted, and I think I did it," Dawn said, glancing down. "Telepaths need to go deep. It's how you penetrate into minds. So I went as deep as I could and got to a point I hadn't been before. So I told the barriers to separate. The next thing I know the scientists are pulling me away and I see a Sectoid with a half-melted head. Gave me nightmares for a couple weeks."

"And ADVENT didn't know how to handle you, so they shipped you here," he finished. "You're definitely a special one. I don't think I've heard of anyone who can do that outside of Ethereals."

"Wait, did you come from ADVENT too?" She asked, latching onto that.

"I did," he nodded. "My story isn't quite as dramatic as yours though. I just accidentally teleported myself halfway across the world."

"You can teleport?" Her eyes brightened. "That's so cool!"

"I'm learning," he stressed. "But I have a good teacher. I'm sure you'll have a good one as well."

"Miss Conley." Both of them turned as both Fiona and Geist walked up, the German eyeing him neutrally with his face ever stoic as Fiona gave the young girl an apologetic smile. "Apologies for keeping you waiting."

"No issue Miss Dorren," Dawn straightened in her best military posture. "I was just talking to Mr. Azuma."

Kunio was mildly impressed the kid remembered his name. "She looked lost. I came over to see if she needed some direction."

"Thank you, Kunio, but we were just running behind," Fiona said with a smile. "Dawn, this is Geist. He's been researching and testing a skill you seem to have figured out on your own. You'll be training with him."

"I read your incident with the Sectoid," Geist inclined his head. "I'm impressed. You do have a lot to still learn though, and we have limited time. Walk with me. There are some questions I have."

Adjusting her backpack, Dawn followed the stoic man, slightly jogging to catch up as Geist started walking, not waiting to see if she was ready. Fiona and Kunio watched them go. "Is putting her with Geist really the best idea?" He asked cautiously, looking back to Fiona. "Geist is cold enough to make an interrogator look warm and cuddly. She's a kid – an eighteen year old kid to be precise."

"Actually, I think it will work out better than you think," Fiona answered. "Geist was a teacher before this. Worked with kids like her pretty regularly. He's strict, but from what I can tell she'll do fine and he was actually a well-regarded teacher. Besides…we've got no one else who is even remotely familiar with Biopathy."

He crossed his arms. "So she can melt people?"

"Simplistic, but yes," Fiona nodded. "Geist has been experimenting with that for a while now. He's good with it on a small scale, but it took a lot to even get that far. Dawn did it completely by accident. If she can be trained, we'll have our own Mortis against the Collective – and if we get her all ready to go, say goodbye to the Battlemaster or any other non-telepath Ethereal."

"Right," Kunio said. "I'm more worried how she's going to hold up in battle. Has she even had basic training? Again – she's a kid – in XCOM."

"I'm not really happy she's here either," Fiona admitted, brushing some ashen hair out of her eye. "But she did agree to come, she's a Biopath, or at least so inclined. Even if she's not, her Trask level is absurdly high."

"How high?"

"Ninety."

Kunio whistled. "Wow."

"The Commander isn't going to give her the hard missions up front," Fiona shrugged. "She'll get training here; I think the Dreamscape will help her out a lot. But the situation isn't ideal, I agree." She looked back to where Dawn and Geist had been. "Keep an eye out for her, would you?"

"I can if I see her around," he nodded, noting the shift in tone. "This an order? I know she's valuable."

"Nothing official, no," Fiona quickly corrected. "But she brings back some memories. I remember when I was even younger than her, and I had powers I instinctively knew, but couldn't really control. There was a lot of pressure and expectation, and there aren't really any peers she has here to talk to. I don't want this period for her to be as difficult as it was for me."

"Ok," he nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her. Promise."

"Thanks," she eyed him. "Let's get to our own training, shall we?"

---

Engineering Bay, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/10/2017 – 12:19 P.M.

The Engineering Bay was loud and hard at work as the Commander walked into it; with the production facilities all online and working, while engineers, mechanics, and other personnel went about their duties. "Most facilities are back and working," Kong Mercado said, nodding to the area. "And thanks to Jackson's work, we have effectively the same manpower as before."

"And the projects?" The Commander inquired.

"Delayed from what they would have been, but finished faster than we anticipated," Kong answered. "Largely thanks to JULIAN."

"I do so appreciate the acknowledgement of my efforts," JULIAN commented from the phone the Commander had taken to carrying with him. It was less disruptive than JULIAN hijacking the speakers when he wanted to make a comment. "Someone understands."

"Yes, we're all aware," the Commander said as they approached a workbench and range. "And we thank you for your hard work."

"Your condescending words continually warm my cold machine heart."

The Commander just sighed as he followed Kong.

"I decided this is as good a place to start as any," Kong said as he picked up one of the rifles that bore a strong resemblance to the pulse weapons XCOM already employed. "This was, actually, a project that we theorized back in EXALT when we first acquired laser weapons. They were good but they weren't…subtle."

"Nonsense, I'm sure every soldier appreciates being made a target for every sniper in the area," JULIAN commented helpfully.

"A bright red beam isn't the most subtle thing," the Commander agreed.

"Which is an issue for snipers," Kong lifted the rifle. "Or soldiers who don't want to give away their position. Powerful, but they have their limitations. I'd always wanted to both amplify the output and minimize the visibility of these weapons. The obvious solution was moving to a higher frequency."

"Shen thought the same," the Commander remembered. "However, there were issues with getting it to work, and it wasn't the most pressing priority."

"Mmm, that's true," Kong nodded. "Still, his work provided a solid basis. Combining it with…" he waved a free hand idly. "A fresh approach, and we've managed to solve it. With some extra help from our resident Sovereign ally, and JULIAN of course."

Good news. The Commander took the offered rifle, along with the glasses that were also on the table. "In the field, this will be tuned for the Titan helmets," Kong said. "But these glasses will allow you to perceive one of the settings that would otherwise be invisible to the eye."

"Ultra-violet?" The Commander guessed, lifting the rifle towards one of the targets downrange.

"Exactly," Kong confirmed. "Though for now it is set to the violet setting. More powerful than current rifles."

The Commander fired, and sure enough a violet-colored laser shot out and burned through the target which had light armor reminiscent of the Runianarch. That alone was a significant improvement, as one of the weaknesses of laser weapons had always been that they were inferior against heavily armored targets.

"Already an improvement," he commented, lowering the weapon. "Power upkeep?"

"It is more power-hungry than the previous generation," Kong admitted. "We're experimenting with reworking the weapon size to gain equivalent power efficiency, but it is roughly a fifteen percent increase in power consumption. Power pack replacement will be increased, but not a substantial amount."

"Test it with the soldiers," the Commander suggested. "See if they have complaints."

"Already planned," Kong confirmed. "If you flip that switch, it will shift to UV mode. Make sure your glasses are attuned."

The Commander did so, and flipped the appropriate switch, put in a new power pack, and aimed the weapon again at another target. A pull of the trigger shot out another beam, but this one was definitely different in appearance. Less perceptible, even with the glasses, but it still destroyed the mock helmet. He took off the glasses and fired again, and indeed there was no visible beam. The air became distorted slightly, but otherwise it was effectively invisible.

"Well," he flicked the safety on and took a step back, weapon in hand. "A substantial improvement. Well done."

"Appreciated, Commander," Kong gave a satisfied smile. "We expect this will swing the lethality advantage to us significantly. While it still is not as useful for armor penetration, it will be able to handle soldiers with equivalent lethality." He glanced down at the weapon, patting it with a hand. "To my knowledge, this is a weapon the Collective has not developed."

"That we know of," the Commander corrected. "They are more than capable."

"Capable? Yes," Kong mused idly. "However, something I have noticed is that the Collective lacks a certain…" he tapped a finger on his chin. "Creativity when it comes to weapons of war. They have all the pieces needed to forge a near-unbeatable army, yet are either reluctant to, or incapable of envisioning such a force."

"I suppose you have a theory as to why that is?" The Commander wondered, sensing where this may be going.

"Several," Kong confirmed, running a hand over the other weapon on the table. "In short, we are not fighting warlike species."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "I would beg to differ."

"And I challenge your assumption," Kong retorted firmly. "Consider each species – Sectoid, Andromedon, Vitakara, Ethereal and Muton. Of those, I believe only the Andromedons would qualify. I presume you are aware of their histories, Commander?"

"As much as we know," the Commander nodded.

"A history is a good indicator on the martial creativity of a people and species," Kong said. "The Sectoids only had one short-lived conflict and peace ever since. They built a fleet because it is a simple deterrent. The Andromedons are warlike, but they are too suspicious of each other and the Collective to share what the Unions doubtless have achieved."

He snorted. "The Vitakara have an army in name only; one I suspect they only established because it is expected. Only the Sar'Manda and Borelians have something notable, and even they were constrained by their inexperience with war. The Mutons would also likely be warlike, but they are constrained by their Collective masters."

"And the Ethereals?"

"Too reliant on psionics," Kong stated dismissively. "The point is that there is a complacency and lack of experience that defines the Collective War Doctrine. A majority of species have never fought in a war, one species has fought centuries of guerilla campaigns, and one was used to winning all conflicts with overwhelming psionic power. They are still learning how to fight a war."

He cocked his head. "The only true 'conflict', if such a generous term could be applied, was the conquering of the Mutons. Which I think you will agree is hardly spectacular, and largely accomplished by the Battlemaster, who I believe is lost on what to actually do with his manpower and resources. The Collective has all the signs of what they think a galactic army should be, but no…" he searched for the word. "Innovation. They have the technology and capability, yet they seem to have no desire to push themselves."

"They do not have a challenge," the Commander noted.

"No, and contrast that with Humans, who have been quite defined by war over millennia, for better or worse," Kong nodded. "The Andromedons were on the right track that war can spur innovation, but their approach lacks creativity. It is a constant one-upmanship of technology that exists. They…underestimate how many different ways we have thought up to kill each other."

He rubbed his chin. "We are indeed a violent species at times, though it has ensured our survival time and again." Kong gave a shrug. "This is ultimately why I suspect that they do not have widespread V/UV small arms nor our more creative weapons like GAIA. They have a linear mindset – likely Andromedon inspired - of incremental upgrades and generational leaps. They appear to struggle coming up with something unique." He lifted the odd weapon. "Such as this."

The weapon was roughly the size of a rifle, but was far more complicated-looking with a box-like barrel ending. It was slightly shorter than a regular rifle barrel, but wider. Having followed the updates for some time, he could hazard a strong guess as to what this is. "Green Lantern?"

"That will come in a minute," Kong explained. "This particular weapon is something of a spin-off project. The High Output Microwave Emitter Rifle."

"HOMER?"

"Yes, the engineers here like their creative names," Kong said dryly. "As the name suggests, it is a directed microwave weapon, one which we have confirmed is capable of penetrating armor so long as there are some openings. The downside is that the effects are…delayed."

"In what way?"

Kong motioned him over to a tablet setting nearby. "The effects are unlikely to kill a target immediately. At most they will feel hot or a slight burning sensation if wearing armor – it is also possible that it could cause metal armor to spark – but this is likely to be most effective as a demoralizing weapon which will eventually kill the target without treatment." He showed a number of pictures of test results.

"The physical effects vary depending on the intensity," Kong continued. "Blisters, blood flow overstimulation, and varying degrees of necrosis, which if you are not familiar with the term, is best described as prolonged cell breakdown. Which effectively means that over time, while initially believing to be minimal damage, targets will eventually find their bodies weakened as their muscles and minds begin failing, and eventually death if left untreated."

He patted the side of the weapon. "A useful property is that it also has a debilitating effect on electronics. We can reliably disable with this weapon, which could potentially be useful as an anti-nanite weapon, as well as handling their Custodian soldiers. More hardened targets are unfortunately not fully tested, but most electronics will be fried if hit by this."

"I see," the Commander suspected that Zhang was going to love this particular weapon. "I'm curious if it will have an effect on Ethereal physiology. A number of them wear minimal or unsealed armor."

"I suspect it won't be as effective given the attention placed on them," Kong admitted. "But it will be lethal for everyone else, particularly Mutons and Vitakara."

"The Battlemaster's suit is sealed though," the Commander noted.

"For him, we have something special," Kong set down the HOMER and gestured him over to an enclosed range, which the Commander saw was completely enclosed to resemble a long rectangular enclosure. There was a place to put hands in, which were gloves that could handle the mounted weapon within.

"This is the result of Project Green Lantern," Kong said proudly, gesturing at the large weapon within. "The first – and currently only – Gamma weapon." He gestured to the enclosed range. "Given the danger of using Gamma rays, we've limited testing to lead-enclosed ranges. A nuisance, but given what we have accomplished, far better safe than sorry."

"Indeed," the Commander commented absentmindedly, looking at the weapon. It had a black casing, was the size of an autorifle, and had an irregular barrel shaped closer to a rectangle. It did not appear to be fully optimized design-wise, as there were wires and exposed portions.

"This was, as you were aware, originally an ADVENT project," Kong continued. "One I directly worked on. I'd pushed for XCOM support, and now…well, the results speak for themselves. Admittedly, ADVENT provided a significant amount of the original data, which we built upon, along with continued collaboration. Now that we have completed the first prototype, I suspect ADVENT will refine this for more widespread and versatile deployment."

The Commander looked downrange and saw a mock soldier in Titan armor standing. "Try it out," Kong said as the Commander fitted his hands into the gloves. "We placed a brain-dead clone in Titan armor and have been using those for gathering more practical data on bodily effects. With this enclosed range, it will not take long to see the effects."

The Commander gripped the weapon, and fired. The weapon whirred to life and shot waves of distortion towards the Titan armor. He only fired for a few seconds before the body promptly exploded in a shower of red mist and parts of the Titan armor flying off, with melted flesh and blood flowing out the gaps in the armor.

"Well then," he said after a few seconds. "That was fast."

"Very fast," Kong agreed. "Gamma rays on their own are dangerous enough. A laser is a level that hasn't even been attempted before for multiple reasons. Very dangerous, risky, power-consuming – but very effective." He cocked his head. "And if you had not hit it dead center, you would have likely given it radiation poisoning which could kill in a few hours – or minutes – depending on how hard it was hit."

"Good to know," the Commander said, extracting his hands from the gloves.

"Yes, I quite appreciate the effective nature of this weapon," Kong said. "In short – while armor may protect against microwaves, unless the Battlemaster has a lead suit of armor, he will be coughing up blood very soon if he gets hit with this, if he isn't outright vaporized."

"We have to be careful with it," the Commander noted. "It seems very easy to accidentally hit a friendly."

"Yes," Kong agreed. "Only specialty trained soldiers should wield Gamma weapons. And they should only be deployed in certain circumstances. Such as against Ethereals."

"Correct," the Commander withdrew his hands from the range. "And we don't want the Collective getting their hands on this. I expect there are self-destruct measures?"

"There are, I made sure of that," Kong confirmed. "Not just with the Gamma rifle, but all of our more exotic weapons. The Collective will not be able to reconstruct them from the pieces."

"Perfect," the Commander nodded. "Excellent work here, Dr. Mercado. You may have just signed the Battlemaster's death warrant."

"I certainly hope so," Kong smiled hungrily. "And what is also of interest is that psionic shields cannot fully block the effects. So not even the Imperator can stop it."

Extremely promising developments. Dangerous weapons, but it was going to take this kind of technology to defeat the Collective. The problem, of course, was going to be getting close enough to use it. For the Battlemaster it would be easier, but against someone like the Imperator…it was going to be more difficult.

Well, it was one tool in conjunction with many others.

The inevitable battle against the Imperator was one he didn't truly know the best way to prepare for – and made the admittedly shaky assumption that he would even let them get close enough for something like a Gamma weapon to be viable.

But he suspected it would come in handy well before that point.

"The final project which is effectively complete is Project Shale," Kong said as they departed the testing range and towards the Cybernetics Lab. "MEC 2.0 as Shen called it. Given the significant advances in prosthetics and cybernetics, I believed it was pragmatic to accelerate the project, especially as the Valkyrie and Jaeger-Class MECs were nearing completion at the time."

"As I recall, the Valkyrie was close to completion before the attack," the Commander said as the door slid aside. "And Project Shale was in preliminary testing."

"While my respect for Shen is immense," Kong said, pursing his lips. "He had a…restraint in his methods. Something like Project Shale does not finish in a timely manner without extensive Human testing, and we obviously don't want to put our own people through that. Vahlen has little qualms about using test subjects, but Shen limited his use to strictly necessary. A decision I can understand, certainly, but it results in delays."

"And I suspect you don't have the same reservations," the Commander said rhetorically.

Kong glanced with a bemused expression. "Surprised?"

"Hardly. You came from EXALT."

"Not an inaccurate judge of our pragmatism," Kong mused, looking back forward. "While I dislike stereotypes, many of us fall into ones you'd expect. Not a surprise due to our small number and like-minded approach. Although I am quite glad that era is over and we achieved our goal."

"I'm not sure I would classify ADVENT as such," the Commander said as they entered the hallway. "Saudia may be in charge, but considering there is an investigation underway for EXALT influence, I wouldn't say it was a whole victory for your organization. Nor was it intended to be."

"From a purely technical point of view," Kong admitted. "However, the fact remains that Humanity is – or soon will be – united under one banner and authority. And that those within EXALT exert influence in some form or another. We were never going to be sole arbiters of the world, and even the leaders of the Families knew this. We were the agents of change, and in this aspect, I would say we succeeded."

The Commander nodded. "Fair enough."

They entered the Cybernetics Lab and there were two individuals already standing to meet them, and behind them were the new MECs, one much larger than the other. "Commander," Kong began as they reached the pilots. "Bassma Wasem and Easu Benisch, among the first pilots of Project Shale."

The two pilots saluted, and the Commander took a close look at them. From the outside they looked almost normal. Their skin was similar to that of the MELD Operators, in that it gave some covering, but definitely wasn't organic. There were slits along their hands which indicated that they were capable of significant transformation, likely to plug into the MECs.

Each one stood a uniform six and a half feet tall, a substantial height increase from the previous pilots. The eyes, while looking similarly normal from a distance, quickly revealed themselves to be shining electric light from the iris on closer inspection. There were also clear ports and slots for them to be connected to the MEC along their bodies.

"A pleasure to meet you," the Commander said, shaking each of their hands – both of whom had very strong grips, even to him. "Thank you for volunteering for this project."

"We all do our part for the war, Commander," Bassma inclined her head. "I'm proud this will be mine."

"As you can see, the pilot chassis has been significantly improved," Kong stated. "Cybernetic limbs throughout, with MELD-based 'skin' overtop, subdermal armor has been placed throughout the rest of the body, the skeleton has been effectively replaced with prosthetic alternatives, and all organs have been similarly protected, or replaced."

He paused. "Though most importantly, the procedure required for the cerebral modifications no longer performs an effective lobotomization on the soldiers. They remain themselves, and are capable of doing far more than the average – or even enhanced Human."

"Such as?"

"We can't drown or suffocate," Easu said. "That's one thing."

"Indeed," Kong confirmed. "While they can't sustain it for extreme periods, neither water nor a lack of oxygen are a death sentence – which also means, I will add, they can perform operations in space without special equipment. Something I believe may become relevant sooner than later."

"A possibility," the Commander nodded. "How long have both of you had since the procedure?"

"A week now, Commander," Bassma said. "It's something I'm still fully adjusting to, but it's nothing I didn't expect and can't eventually adapt to."

"I'll agree for the large part," Easu nodded. "It's a bit odd not really needing to eat or sleep, or do normal Human things I've done since…well, forever. But it's not necessarily bad. Also I still feel like myself. Mentally, at least, so no lobotomization for me."

"Excellent," the Commander looked to Kong. "And given the MECs behind them, I assume they are complete?"

"They are," Kong said as they walked to the platforms where the MECs were situated on. He indicated the smaller one. "The Jaeger-Class, Commander."

At first glance it didn't seem like a MEC, but instead a much larger suit of armor. It stood around eight feet, looked notably sleek and form-fitting, but also very heavily armored. "Designed to be a mobile assault platform," Kong described. "Able to reach places other MECs can't, such as inside buildings or other more confined spaces. It's capable of handling higher-powered precision weapons, has inbuilt grappling systems to scale buildings easily, and carries a powered PDS field to negate plasma fire."

"I can demonstrate," Easu walked over the MEC and entered into the war platform from the back, more sliding into the MEC than being physically placed into it due to the smaller size. A few seconds later the MEC powered up and it took a few lumbering steps forward.

"We should move to the safety area," Kong advised, motioning to a small room nearby where they could watch in relative safety. "I expect some weapons demonstrations will be in order. Mr. Benisch, go through the full gauntlet."

"Copy that," Easu said. "Initiating weapons tests."

From the safety of the room, the Commander watched as the arms of the MEC transformed into literal high-caliber gauss weapons. It was the type of sensation he couldn't even begin to really imagine. Once the set-up targets had been eliminated, the right arm transformed again to a very long barrel, which it hooked to the opposite arm, locking it in place. Taking a firm stance, flaps on the sides of the feet slammed to the ground, anchoring him in place. Loud booms rang out as the MEC fired several sniper rounds in quick succession (all of which hit), before the barrel retracted and the arms returned to their humanoid shapes.

"Jaegers can handle conventional weapons too," Kong said. "Upscaled of course, but no Jaeger is ever truly unarmed."

A part of the armor on the shoulder suddenly rose, and a laser beam shot from it. A violet one, the Commander noted. "Laser systems as well, obviously," Kong confirmed. "No missiles for this one. We did have a limited amount of space with what we wanted to add, but I believe the systems are sufficient."

"Without a doubt," the Commander agreed. The Jaeger launched a grappling hook from another raised port on the shoulder, and once he confirmed it was tight began scaling the wall, with the feet clamps being used for each step. Once up top, he pushed off, and the grappling hook lowered the MEC to the ground.

The trio exited the safe room. "I believe that was a successful test," the Commander said idly. "This will prove very useful."

"As do I," Kong agreed. "And of course, the next one is something that has been in production for some time. The Valkyrie."

The aforementioned MEC towered over the smaller Jaeger, standing close to fifteen feet tall, it lacked the sleekness and compactness of the Jaeger, but had engines, wings, and other aerodynamic attachments which coalesced into something which was distinctly something that was designed to fly.

"This was designed to not just be an air-to-ground asset," Kong said. "While it is outfitted with multiple missile systems, laser defenses, chemical weapons, and bomb dispensers, we anticipate it's versatility would be enhanced if it was capable of performing in a space environment. As such, they are also outfitted with high-powered laser cutters, and have tools allowing them for breaches into enemy spacecraft."

The Commander nodded. That would indeed be very useful, and especially for XCOM attacks, having a means of reliably being able to penetrate enemy spacecraft would be useful. "How easily can it compete in an air conflict?" He asked.

"Against alien spacecraft? It can hold its own," Kong answered. "However, it isn't as effective in the air as on the ground. It is better defending from enemy craft than attacking them. It simply lacks the speed to effectively compete, even if it is equivalent in firepower. Plasma, chlorine-trifluoride, and nanite warheads are all utilized, which are capable of taking down a fighter. However, it isn't advised they be used as anti-fighter platforms."

"Good to know," the Commander confirmed. "I suppose you have a demonstration for this one as well?"

"Yes, but not here," Kong confirmed. "For that, we need to go outside."

"Then let's do it," the Commander said, feeling a sense of optimism as he followed the Chief Engineer to the platform that would take them outside. On the technical side he was fairly confident that they were more than capable of holding their own. But the technical, 'conventional' part of the war was only half of the battle.

Vahlen would need to complete the other half.

If that was done…then their chances of winning this war just got a lot higher.

---

Cybernetics Lab, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/9/2017 – 11:03 A.M.

It was not exactly normal, talking with a six and a half foot tall Asian woman, but if that was going to be her future, Sierra wanted to have a good idea of what to expect. Luckily the new MEC pilot was more than willing to talk. Athena Gallant was a new soldier to XCOM, and more interestingly, had volunteered without having any missing limbs or physical disabilities.

"It was what I was going to school for, you know," she was saying as both women sat at a table in the Cybernetics Lab while work continued around them. "Prosthetics. Cybernetics. Not nearly as sophisticated as these," she lifted her own hand. "But foundational ones. Or what are consider such now. Hard to believe it's changed that much already."

"That's good work," Sierra said. "I wouldn't be surprised if what you did ended up making prosthetics into what they are today."

"Ha, no," Athena chuckled. "We were, at best, at the baseline. We weren't doing anything cutting edge. Most of our time was spent trying to get government funding and making deals with pharmaceutical companies than outright research. God, I hated that money was tied to research so much. It tainted everything."

"You could say that about a lot of things," Sierra shrugged.

"Yeah," Athena rapped her fingers on the table. "Honestly, I wouldn't be mad if ADVENT just scrapped money altogether. Just causes more problems than it solves."

"I somehow don't see that happening," Sierra said. "Might be better in the long run, but I doubt ADVENT is going to overhaul the norms to that level in a war. Then again, I know absolutely nothing about economics, so please don't take my word for it."

"Well, we have something in common then," Athena laughed. "I have a habit of holding strong opinions on stuff I don't always have a firm grasp on. Though a lot seems to be common sense, honestly."

"It does seem like that sometimes," Sierra agreed.

There were a few moments of silence. "So, they're eyeing you for MEC 2.0?"

"Giving me the option, at least," Sierra answered with a shrug. "Which I'm not completely sold on. I like the look of the Valkyrie, but not sure I like it enough to be a walking shell with a Human brain."

"Hmm," Athena cocked her head thoughtfully. "Can't blame you completely. I can only give you my own experience."

"I'd appreciate it."

"So I'm like you in that I'm transitioning from a full organic body into something largely artificial," she continued. "I'm not you, obviously, but I can say that while it's a different experience, it isn't something I dislike. Honestly, aside from a reduced…feeling," she wiggled her fingers. "It isn't much of a change. Everything feels more or less the same, for lack of a better word. Heat, cold, everything stays at a same temperature. Which I prefer to extremes."

"Do you still eat? Sleep?"

"I can," she emphasized after a moment. "Although nutrition is largely provided through little vials I insert every day," she lifted a red vial to demonstrate, indicating a port on the arm. "Eating physically is…well, more of a comfort mechanism. A placebo if you will. It doesn't really do anything, but it feels good to do, and taste is still there."

"So where does the food go then?" Sierra asked, frowning.

"I assume it gets dissolved by nanites and turned into something useful," she shrugged. "I don't really know, but since I don't really have a digestive system anymore, no waste products. Lots of internal batteries though, EMP hardened obviously."

"Do batteries get changed regularly?"

"Yeah, I do at least," she tapped her chest. "Battery port right here. I plug in every night. I technically don't need to sleep, but I still do. It helps, despite what the engineers say. 'Oh Athena, it's a psychological illusion, you don't actually need sleep', all crap. We still need sleep, and I take it. But you don't really have to ever worry about running out of power. If I don't charge at all, it would take close to a month before I actually had to worry."

That answered some of her questions at least. So, she could reasonably still do…Human things. Which was something she hadn't been sure of before. "I guess the thing I'm not sure of is…well, being trapped in a body that doesn't feel like mine. I don't want to have an existential crisis inside a metal body."

"I get that," Athena nodded. "Honestly, that's not something I can answer with absolute certainty. But speaking for myself…I don't feel much different than I did before – aside from not feeling hungry, thirsty, or other survival mechanisms. I felt like…me…but with some extra parts. The skin helps." She lifted her hand.

"Not real, though, is it?"

"No," on cue the skin peeled back, nanites was what it looked like. "But as I said, it helps. In the end, I don't think it matters if it's real or not. Appearance goes a long way, psychologically speaking."

"Right," Sierra nodded. "There was something that one of my friends brought up. Namely…uh…reproductive stuff."

"Mmm," Athena rested her arms on the table, facing Sierra seriously. "If you do this, you're not having a kid, not naturally at any rate. I don't know if that's something you want, either now or someday, but that's a sacrifice you make for this."

"I figured," Sierra said. "Definitely not now…but I thought maybe someday."

"I doubt that's unique," Athena nodded. "Doubt a lot of people are intentionally having kids these days. But I won't lie and say that XCOM may magically make it work for us in a later iteration. That isn't happening." She paused. "There are some alternatives though. I would say something to think about, if you do want to become a mother someday, is that adoption is viable. There are going to be a lot of orphans after the war, hell, even now. Alternatively, you can also have some of your eggs harvested and frozen. It won't be quite the same, but it would be yours."

"True," Sierra considered. "Might be preferable to going through pregnancy, actually."

"I'm admittedly not going to miss that," Athena admitted.

"You have kids?"

"One, a boy," she nodded. "He's with my husband in the family quarters here, actually. I don't regret it, but god the experience was enough for me to decide one kid is enough for me."

"Your husband a soldier?"

"Ha, no, he's never fired a gun in his life," she chuckled. "He's actually a cook. That's where he works now, when he's not with my son. We try and take shifts so he isn't left alone for too long."

"And he was…fine with this?" Sierra asked cautiously. "And things are mostly the same?"

"We had a lot of talks about it, yes," she nodded. "And we both decided to go along with it. Though obviously not everything is the same, as you're very delicately dancing around the topic." She bit her lip idly. "Short version, the procedure kills your sex drive, full stop. Far as I can tell the actual parts are largely left alone, but they don't really work. Superficial, if you would. Not to mention the other physical changes." She tapped her flat chest, not elaborating.

She pursed her lips. "That said…it doesn't change how I feel about him. I still love him, and he loves me. But it's not a physical-based love. It's a weird sensation, but the point I want to drive home is that it doesn't take away love, cheesy as it sounds. You can still fall in love, but you won't exactly have a desire to fuck them. If that makes sense."

"It does," Sierra nodded. "That…hasn't really happened to me, at least not for a long time. But I don't have anyone now."

"And that's fine," Athena said. "But if that's something you do want, this won't erase that. It just may not be in a way you anticipated. Besides, it's not like it's a one-way street. I guarantee you that whoever you would end up with will find you attractive, and you may want to accommodate them. Ultimately though, how you decide to work that out will be between the two of you."

Sierra lifted an eyebrow. "Makes sense. Thank you for answering."

"No problem," Athena appraised her a few seconds. "Speaking from what I've seen…you're ideally suited for this. You're already getting used to the cybernetics, you're single, no desire for children right now, and more importantly, not rushing into anything. I think this would suit you, but I can only speak for myself here. I hope it helped you."

"Yeah, it did," Sierra said, definitely having a lot to think about now. "Thanks, Athena. This was really helpful."

"Keep in touch," the MEC pilot said. "Whatever you decide, I know it will be the right decision for you."

---

Arms Range, Praesidium Exterior – Classified Location

5/11/2017 – 2:19 P.M.

The Commander took a breath, lifted his rifle, lined it up with the target in the far distance, and fired. His shot was joined with a half-dozen others, and they were rewarded with a small explosive in the distance. A number of soldiers who were watching cheered as they saw the snipers all hit their targets.

"Come on," Luca Pareja muttered, one of the newer soldiers from Mexico. "We can't keep moving the targets out. Someone needs to drop out."

"Not going to be me," Cassandra Rivera said, taking a drink and resting her rifle on the table as she adjusted her sunglasses. "We're competitive around here."

"Apparently," Miriam Luxemburg said dryly. "You weren't kidding, Commander, you're a good shot."

"I keep up," he said modestly. "I did maintain a high body count in Florida."

"You fought in Florida?" Luca asked. "You?"

"Don't sound so surprised," he lightly chided.

"He does that sometimes," Leona Rhodes commented from the side. "He's not bad. Hands-on for a commander."

"I believe it with this performance," Luca glanced to the targets which normally would be out of the range of most sniper rifles, even scoped. But gene modding extended the range quite a bit, even if now it was actually getting a bit harder. "You originally a sniper, Commander?"

"I was," he confirmed. "A skill that's served me well."

"What branch?"

"Not military, CIA," he clarified.

"Huh, I didn't actually know that," Cassandra said with a raised eyebrow. "That explains a lot."

"Explains what, exactly?" He asked with a bemused expression.

"Just the way you run things," she shrugged. "I'd pegged you as military, but you have the mindset of an intel guy. I don't think I've seen that before."

"I did run a lot of field combat ops in my day," he said. "And worked a lot with soldiers. It's not as uncommon as you think. Some of that rubbed off on me."

"In your day?" Leona raised an eyebrow. "You aren't that much older than us."

"I'll take that compliment," he smiled. "Ready for the next round?"

"Yeah, let's do this."

The snipers readied their rifles, got a rough idea of the location of the target – which was now a truly ludicrous range – and when they judged right, they fired. The moment the Commander fired, he knew he'd missed. Sure enough, there was no explosive indicator, and this was also the winnowing round for all but two of the snipers, Cassandra and one of the new South Korean troopers, Ji-Won Sobong.

"A good run," the Commander said, stepping back. "I knew it missed the moment I fired."

"Something you just know," Leona agreed. "But you gave a good show."

"To be fair, all of you did as well," he said. "To some extent, I'm surprised I got this far at all."

"Well, whatever it is, it's impressive, Commander," Luca said with a nod. "Don't suppose you're that good with other weapons?"

"I can handle any weapon decently," the Commander said, going to a water station as the sun beat down on them. "However, I would only say I'm proficient with rifles and sniper rifles. Though I suppose the mods make me good with pistols and shotguns at closer ranges. Although if it gets to that point, I'll probably just use telekinesis."

"If you didn't say it, I really wouldn't know you were a psion," Miriam said, walking up. "I don't think I've ever seen you use psionics before."

"Because I'm not a powerful one," he explained, suspending the plastic cup in his hand. "Limited use out of self-defense. Definitely not on the level of Geist, or even Vahlen. I'll leave the psionic warfare to people more proficient."

As the final two snipers got ready for the final round – or likely final round, the Commander watched from behind. "Bets on which one wins?" Luca asked. "I'm going to say the Korean."

"Sobong?" Miriam asked, swirling her cup in her hand idly. "Tempting, but I've seen Cassandra fight. I'm going with her."

"Same," Leona nodded. "But he's also been consistently good."

"What about you, Commander?" Luca asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do I get a vote? I do know the profiles of both soldiers."

"This is a fun bet, not high stakes gambling," Miriam snorted. "Your insider knowledge isn't going to disqualify you."

He smiled. "In that case, Sobong."

Both Miriam and Leona exchanged a look, both frowning. "No changing your pick," the Commander warned, amused.

"Wouldn't dream about it, Commander," Miriam said unconvincingly as they watched the two snipers line up, take aim, and fire. Truthfully, the Commander wouldn't have been surprised if both of the snipers had hit the target, but as fate would have it, Cassandra missed while a faint orange plume indicated Sobong had hit his target.

"Alright, how did you know that?" Miriam demanded as the crowd cheered at the new sniper champion of XCOM…at least until the next fight or weekly shooting tournament.

"Couldn't it have been a lucky guess?"

"Do you make lucky guesses?"

"Not unless I have to," the Commander admitted, smiling before answering the question. "Sobong was stationed in Busan," he recalled from the file. "As you can imagine…he acquired significant experience. By the end of both battles, he had a combined four hundred and sixty-three confirmed kills. Cassandra is an excellent shot, but when it comes to long-range combat, the numbers fell in Sobong's favor. Having to choose, his was the safer option. I wouldn't have been surprised if both of them had hit it."

"I take it back, insider knowledge is an unfair advantage," Miriam said, deadpan. "Good thing none of us put money on it."

"Is that even legal here?" Luca asked.

"As long as no one is being stupid about it," the Commander said. "There are standards we keep here."

"Got it, Commander."

As the winning sniper was surrounded by a number of people, the ones in the firing area moved out as they were replaced with the Rocketeers…and a lot of ordinance. "Not taking part in the rocket launcher competition?" Leona asked.

"Not this time," he said as they joined the spectators. "I think I'll leave the explosives to them."

---

Abigail's Quarters – The Hall of Steel

5|12|2017 – 4:29 P.M.

This was such an odd sensation.

Yet here she was doing it all the same.

Finished, she put the tablet down and sat on the edge of her bed, thinking. "You got through that fast," Liam noted, glancing to the tablet on the table.

"I read fast," she answered robotically. She wondered if she actually was a naturally fast reader, or if this development was something that was giving her some kind of cerebral boost. Oddly enough, she could recall exactly what happened in the book despite how fast she'd finished it, likely due to being hyperfocused on it.

But sure enough, she could definitely read Spanish, and read it well. It was, in short, effectively no different from reading an English book. Nuance, context, little oddities and quirks that each language had, she seemed to be able to interpret and understand flawlessly. In a roundabout way it showed that whatever Fectorian's translation program had been, it was pretty excellent.

"Still," Liam shook his head. "You got through two hundred pages in a few hours. That's impressive. I'm pretty sure you couldn't do that before."

"Was I even a reader?" She asked, the question coming to her.

"Not especially, from what I remember," he said. "But that may have been due to our job and limited time. You never really spoke about it, if that's what you're wondering."

"Ugh," she let herself fall back onto the bed, disquieted for some reason which she couldn't really nail down. She'd initially thought this would be an amusing incident, one Liam had found funny, as she'd expected. But the more she thought about it, the less funny it became until now it was seriously bothering her.

The explanation for this was there and made sense, but there was just something unnerving about the whole event the more she thought about it. Maybe the fact that knowledge that had once taken so long to acquire had just been…uploaded.

As an accident.

If something like language could be uploaded, why not other things? Math formulas, chemical chains, entire textbooks of knowledge she could inherently just…recall at will. Was it even worth 'learning' something when you could just have the information downloaded into your brain?

Logic said 'no', but that answer strongly upset her on a fundamental level with an intensity which surprised herself.

It struck her as profoundly wrong and unnatural.

"Hey, Abigail," she saw Liam look over her with concern in his eyes, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? You're shaking."

She realized that she was, or seemed to be more vibrating than shaking, but she stopped that, then sat up. "Liam, have you ever had an existential crisis?" She grimaced. "Because I think I'm having one now."

"I don't believe so," Liam said. "What's wrong?"

"I…don't like this," she gave a shrug, struggling to articulate her deep sense of wrongness. "That a language was just…implanted into my mind with no actual effort or desire of my own. It's just a thing that I can do, like breathing. And I know it shouldn't be like that. Abby…I…didn't know this, but it's like I've had it all my life. It feels real, but I know it's something foreign. Something that I know doesn't belong on a fundamental level."

She wrung her hands together. "I guess it highlights just how…artificial I am."

"Hey, don't say that," he protested. "If there's someone who could say that about you, it's me, and you're not an artificial knockoff."

"The procedure didn't work!" She exclaimed with a burst of emotion. "Fectorian even said it! He just tried to build up what he thought I was good at and made me perfect at it! She-I-wasn't perfect at it, I'm sure of that. But my shooting, my strength, speed, reflexes, that isn't because that was something I'm good at, it was just some information Fectorian programmed into me. The only reason I'm…me right now is because that's what he made."

"But you remembered my name, right?" Liam reminded her. "And the others? You may not remember exact memories, but you do feel connections. Fectorian may have given you some upgrades and made some assumptions without thinking how you would take it, but you're still you and he couldn't fake that no matter how hard he tried."

"Really?" If she had the ability to cry, she felt that is what she would have done now. "If he can upload pure information into me, how do I know what I think are my memories aren't just…something he just put into me to make me think I'm someone I'm not."

"I don't think he would do that," Liam disputed. "Fectorian is not exactly personable, but he's too…straightforward to come up with something like that. I've been around him a while. I know that this isn't his objective."

"Unless he's lying to you," Abigail shrugged. "He made his end goal clear. He wants to contact XCOM and I'm his proxy to do that. I have her face, her voice, and her connections. I feel like a shell right now. Pretending to be something I'm not and can't know."

"We've talked about this," he said, sitting next to her. "Don't overthink it. You just got past this. You are Abigail. Full stop. If you keep telling yourself you're not, you'll eventually believe it. When I saw you, I wasn't asking myself if you were 'different' in any way, I was just glad you were alive. You need to trust yourself more."

Abigail was silent for a few moments, her mind whirring as she tried her own reconciliation. Logically, he was right. The solutions he proposed were viable. The internal resistance she felt was inherently illogical, yet persistent. She realized she was gripping the bed and crumpling the sheets.

Calm down.

Calm down.

Calm.

Calm…

She released a breath. "Ok."

"Do you want an idea?" Liam asked.

She shrugged. "Couldn't hurt right now."

"You learn something," he said. "Something you definitely don't know. If you learn something on your own terms, it might help."

"That isn't a bad idea," she thought a moment. "Do you have an idea?"

"I'd figure you'd know what you're good at or not," he admitted.

"Hmm," she considered a few seconds. "The problem is I don't really know what I'm not good at. I didn't even know I spoke Spanish until a few hours ago."

"Well, we know you don't speak French," Liam chuckled lightly.

"Well…" she glanced to him. "Say something in Russian."

He blinked, but complied. "Perfect, I didn't understand a word."

"You want to learn Russian?"

"If you're willing to teach me."

He almost balked. "I'm…not exactly a language specialist. Or a teacher."

She shrugged. "I've got time. And it would be better than trying to work everything out on my own. Fectorian might just want to upload it into me, which I now definitely don't want."

"I can't promise a perfect education," he said slowly. "But if you want to suffer along with me, I'll teach you as best I can."

"That sounds good," she smiled, feeling better now that there was a plan of action. "I think it will help."

---

The Dreamscape

5/13/2017 – 5:12 P.M.

While the Dreamscape T'Leth controlled could be made to show anything, the Commander personally preferred the simplicity of the watery expanse. Blue-tinted light filtered through a simulated ocean with a bottomless trench below the translucent surface. It had taken some time to get used to the depth perception, but it was…relaxing in a way.

The Chronicler was here this time, appearing the same as usual. The Commander suspected that he could alter his appearance if he wished in this place, but for reasons only the Chronicler knew, he'd chosen to retain his elderly appearance. Of course, it wasn't as though he was limited by his body.

The appearance was a façade, and he wasn't certain it was an intentional one.

T'Leth took on different personifications during these visits. Sometimes he appeared as a species he recognized. Human, Vitakara, or Ethereal; though there was always something off about it. An exaggerated perfection which was unsettling, though the reason it was so was not always apparent. Sometimes it was a species he had never seen or heard of, and T'Leth never elaborated on them.

For all the Commander knew, none of the unknown species were real and only unrealized visions of an ideal species. T'Leth had never confirmed, nor had the Commander asked. Though given the detail and certain actions the species displayed, he suspected that the species were real. T'Leth did not seem the type to be coming up with complex species in his off-time.

And sometimes, T'Leth didn't manifest at all, though his presence was just as apparent.

Now though, T'Leth manifested as a Human. A tall Human whose proportions were just too small and thin for the height, whose face was just too symmetrical, and whose stone-cold eyes never blinked or expressed any emotion. The voice was the same, and it was always something to get acclimated too; hearing the booming voice from everywhere; even in your own mind, when he spoke.

A projection of the galaxy was displayed as far as the dreamscape could see. Blue-tinged hologram-like images of stars, planets, systems, nebulae, black holes, and the many other elements of the cosmos. The sheer scale and scope of the galaxy was always humbling, and it spoke to how…minor their conflict was in the grand scheme of things. There could be thousands of apocalyptic battles taking place across the galaxy, and no one would hear of them.

It was mind-boggling that the Sovereigns wanted to control it for themselves.

Without the visualized scale, it was an endgame he could understand, but with the full scope – no, not even the full scope; only what T'Leth was capable of showcasing – of what they wished control over, it seemed unfathomably arrogant. Though it certainly fit the god complex the Sovereign Ones possessed.

Well, which most of them possessed.

He hadn't broached the topic, but he suspected T'Leth may have come to a similar conclusion. Perhaps T'Leth really was humble in his own way. At least for a Sovereign.

The galaxy may be too large for one being to control. Even a Sovereign.

No wonder the Synthesized didn't seem to stay in the galaxy, and instead just driving the Sovereigns into hiding. Maybe they knew that it was a pointless endeavor. There were so many hidden planets, uncharted systems, and places to hide and lay low that something even as powerful as a Sovereign One could disappear easily – along with many other species who were even more beneath the notice of the machines.

As he looked at the vast expanse of stars, he wondered just what was out there. How many tombs of long-dead civilizations remained, untouched and waiting for someone to stumble upon them? Or even civilizations rebuilding in the ashes of their previous glory or new ones rising to the stars? The possibilities were exciting, and when Humanity spread to the stars, it was not out of the question – or arguably likely – that they would find such civilizations, aliens, relics, and stories.

Allies to be had, lessons to be learned, or enemies to be made.

The first two were each valuable in their own way.

"You have a habit of going quiet here," the Chronicler noted wryly. "I've seen you around enough to know you're plotting."

"I'm not doing this out of idle curiosity," the Commander said, moving through the systems, back to where Earth was located. A speck of dust in the wider galactic cosmos. "I'm surprised you haven't made a guess."

"I've made guesses, Commander."

"I'd like to hear them,"

"Knowing you, I suspect it has to do with the future," the Chronicler also turned his attention to the planets, though to the systems beyond Earth. "The Imperator isn't the end. Nor is the Collective. The Sovereigns will be waiting."

"The Sovereigns are not the true threat," the Commander dismissed in a half-distracted voice. "Not when there is something else which sends them fleeing every cycle."

"Underestimate the Sovereigns at your own peril, Commander," T'Leth cautioned. "The Synthesized mean nothing if you fall before their arrival."

"I'm aware," the Commander said, rubbing his chin. "You're on the right track, Chronicler. The Imperator is our immediate mortal threat, but I'm not deluding myself into thinking he's the only one, nor the most powerful."

"Systems of importance to be held is a good plan," the Chronicler noted, assuming he was thinking more tactically. "ADVENT will need to have strong borders and control the relay points to be a credible threat. The Sovereigns will take advantage if we are not appropriately prepared."

"Close, but not quite what I have in mind," the Commander paced around the displayed systems. "T'Leth has shared knowledge of previous civilizations, and each one had a desire to drive towards the core of the galaxy. It is a repeating pattern. To control the station and the relay points. I'm surprised no Sovereign has seen it as a trap."

"The Sovereigns are not ignorant it was laid by the Synthesized," T'Leth stated. "They simply do not think it matters. It is a tool; a powerful one that allows swift control of the galaxy for those who control it. It is part of the cycle, not just the expected path to be taken, but the necessary path. If this path is not followed, expansion is slower, time is lost, and chances of galactic control begin to slide away. It is not seen as inherently malicious, though it has also caused the cycles to over time fall into patterns."

"Right," the Commander nodded as he looked at the glowing projection. "Highlight the relay points for me, would you?" Thousands of points lit up in orange, with the connecting lines that spiderwebbed across the galaxy as far as he could see. There were so many, yet in the scope of the galaxy it was remarkably limited.

Remarkable, this trap.

Such a brilliant and subtle means of siphoning the major powers of the galaxy down into such a small slice of the galaxy. A mere fraction of what was possible, and the Sovereigns in their arrogance failed to see how succumbing to this trap was so easily turned against them. Of course, not that it mattered.

It had not taken many thought experiments to reveal something clear about the Sovereign mindset.

They did not care.

Not about the civilizations and species they created or proxied. All of it a means to an end, all tools in the game of galactic domination. Tools could be discarded and rebuilt. Time was pointless to the immortal. A setback could be outlived. The threat was not mortal. The Synthesized had become an inconvenience.

An expected break in the everlasting war.

Yet if time was not important to a Sovereign, then why the drive to conquer the galaxy in a predictable pattern? The answer that came to mind was fear. Not of the Synthesized, but of their rivals. If they did not take the shortcut, someone else would, and potentially gain an advantage of them.

Unacceptable to the Sovereign mind.

Thus, the Sovereigns were psychologically trapped in a cycle of stagnation and apathy.

That alone highlighted that the Synthesized knew how to play the Sovereigns.

And that spoke to their danger and level of cunning.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he wondered what the goal of the Synthesized really was. If the goal really was to exterminate the Sovereigns, they would stay and maintain control over the galaxy. But they didn't. They just came and left. Which indicated that hunting the Sovereigns wasn't the endgame. Not really.

The implications were uncertain, but also unnerving if accurate.

All of these were things that he suspected at first, but seemed all the more likely the more he thought about them.

A galaxy paralyzed by apathy and stagnation.

There was a cycle to be broken. The Imperator nor Patricia was not wrong about that, but the question was how.

It could not solely be by conflict. Otherwise the galaxy would be already controlled. Nor could it be by isolation. Too small and a civilization would be assimilated or absorbed. Too large and it would be drawn into a conflict with a proxy or other galactic peer. Technological advancement seemed a dead end as well, as if the Sovereigns and their technology could not guarantee victory after all these millennia, then the answer could not lie there.

It was certainly not by joining the conflict as another major player. One more participant in the game of galactic domination would change nothing.

With the galaxy laid out before him, the endless expanse seemed to indicate an answer hidden in plain sight.

The conflict persisted because of apathy; Sovereigns and civilizations following the same expected patterns. Going to the same places, placing targets on their people when the purges came. All at the same time ignoring the vast space that was so easily bypassed so they could chase the bait which had been propped up in the core of the galaxy.

In return for speed, expansion, and network control, vast swathes of the galaxy were left untouched. Swathes which could hold limitless resources, alien species and allies, remnants of civilizations, stories and warnings about what to expect. When it came down to it, breaking the cycle was simple.

One couldn't play by the norms. The obvious path itself was an enemy.

ADVENT had to be militarily powerful of course, but it could not just have martial might. When ADVENT expanded to the stars, it would need to do so methodically; carefully. The shortcuts would be there, tempting them, but ADVENT could not take them lest it fall into the same trap. He was quite certain that he was going to have to convince Saudia that the exploration, archeological, and recon aspects of the inevitable colonization effort were going to need to be just as strong, developed, and mature as military force, if not more.

Humans had a tendency to do things quickly; to rush to get things done in the easiest and simplest way possible even in lieu of safety, quality, or caution. But that attitude would doom them in the long run if it was allowed to infect the most critical stage of ADVENT. Speed would lead to their destruction, even if the consequences were centuries into the future.

Speed would lead them into the next war, one with a Sovereign One.

A true Sovereign proxy. Not one which had latched onto an existing figure of power like Mosrimor had with the Imperator.

Of course, moving too slowly could mean they would be unprepared for when the Synthesized struck.

But the fact was they only had one chance to survive what was coming. The wrong decisions would doom them. The right decisions might save them.

There was a rumble. The touch on his mind alerted him to the Sovereign observing his own thought processes.

A curiosity in them.

Perhaps a grudging approval?

He looked to the manifestation of the Sovereign who was doubtless considering the plan which was congealing in his mind. "Has something like this been attempted before?"

"Not to my memory. Too long-term. Too ambitious, even for Sovereigns. Most importantly, it would be seen as unnecessary" A pause. "Although, Sovereigns do not think like a mortal, Commander. They do not think with empathy or concern for those other than themselves. In a way, a mindset such as yours could be an advantage if this is a path you wish to take."

"Well then," the Commander gave a thin smile. "Then this just might work."

---

The Dreamscape

5/14/2017 – 3:11 P.M.

As Kunio's training had continued, he'd quickly figured out that Fiona had been right about how teleporting became second nature. He certainly wasn't a master at it, but he'd gotten far better in a relatively short span of time. Largely thanks to the Dreamscape as XCOM called it, or more accurately called 'the disturbingly detailed reality created by T'Leth'.

If there was anything that could showcase the power of the Sovereign Ones, the fact that they could create a mental reality and tune it to something resembling reality was something that everyone seemed to overlook. This couldn't have been easy for T'Leth to do, yet he did so, every day.

It certainly saved a lot of time though. Time passed much slower in the Dreamscape. He could spend hours training in here and only an hour or so would have passed in the real world. Given some conversations he'd had with Fiona, this was something T'Leth could directly manipulate. The opposite could also be performed, though there wasn't any point in speeding up time, so it wasn't done.

Kunio presumed there was a reason that T'Leth didn't slow time to the point where hours would only be seconds in reality. Perhaps there was a limit to his capabilities, or it required a level of concentration he didn't see the need to apply. In any case, XCOM was taking full advantage and it appeared to be how they were bringing a majority of their new soldiers up to expected battle readiness.

It was a smart way to get everyone up to speed.

The Dreamscape now had been created to show what was basically a massive metal box. Within the box there were various elements; trenches, barriers, snipers nest, mines, and a whole host of other things one would expect to find on the battlefield. At the end was a command center which needed to be breached.

Protecting it were around four dozen aliens; a mixture of Mutons, Custodians, Vitakara, and a random leader enemy. T'Leth often mixed it up, though usually wasn't too unreasonable. Relatively. To date he'd never won, but at least it wasn't an Ethereal. He'd fought recreations of each of the Chosen most of the time. The Hunter was the worst, though sadly T'Leth didn't bother recreating his commentary. The Warlock was the easiest due to the straightforward nature of how he fought.

So much for the Elder's Greatest Champion ™.

This particular challenge though, was one he hadn't been able to beat yet. It was one of the largest-scaled tests. It was simple in objective and necessary skills, but it was extremely difficult to even complete, let alone master. Fiona had designed it, like all of the other tests. The first time he'd 'died' pretty quickly. The second time he'd lasted a bit longer.

He'd tried this many times at this point.

It was a test that he'd kept trying again, each time getting a little better.

Even if he knew it was 'fake', the sounds, colors, and sights of plasma fire, explosions, and general battlefield chaos was enough to recreate the feeling of battle. 'Death' also hurt. Not horrifically, but equivalent to being hit very hard in the head, or tasered. He'd taken a direct shot from the Hunter recreation once and it felt like he'd been stabbed in the chest.

He did not want to feel that again.

"Think you're ready?" Fiona asked, appearing beside him as he looked over the frozen figures standing idle for the test to start.

"I have a good feeling about this time," he said with a nod.

"Hope so," she grinned. "You know T'Leth is going to spite you for that, yes?"

"Eh, bring it on," he said, rolling his shoulders. "The Collective isn't going to go easy on me. No reason for him to either. You hear that, T'Leth?"

No response. T'Leth didn't usually respond for one reason or another. Maybe too busy. For all he knew the Sovereign was managing multiple Dreamscapes at a time. "Right. Take out the leader, no restrictions, taking out enemies are optional."

"You got it," Fiona gave him a thumbs up before vanishing with a green-white flash, though her voice was still easily heard. "Good luck. The test starts now."

He immediately located the nearest cover as the aliens began moving and firing. He'd learned very quickly that if you didn't move, you were dead. This time he decided to do a flash step to the pillar. A hand waved and a purple shroud surrounded him briefly and he stepped directly into the pillar, clunking his head and stumbling back before reorienting himself.

Damn, a bit too close.

Still pretty good.

It was very easy to overstep or understep where you wanted to go. At this point he was fairly good at maneuvering through the Psionosphere in his immediate vicinity, though outside a three-meter range it became a lot more sporadic. He took a few seconds to determine his next step.

First thing to note - he was facing overwhelming firepower.

That was actually a good thing. He couldn't wait too long though because it didn't take long for the Mutons and Vitakara to start chucking grenades his way. He lifted his hands and clenched his fists, a purple aura rippling around them as he drew on the power. Right, let's do this.

He spun around the pillar and opened his palms, small circular portals appeared before him, while with a hand he gestured and the connecting portals appeared beside him. Which turned all the incoming fire his way back against the aliens. A half-dozen were already moving up to flank him, and his reflected fire cut down some of them, while it forced the rest to halt their advance and move back into cover.

T'Leth always had the aliens go aggressive. Forty on one wasn't fair and the Sovereign was sadistic enough to know that. Already he saw two groups of aliens on the far sides moving around to flank him, one group Mutons, the other Custodians. So he could keep himself protected from the front, but that would pin him in place. Time to keep moving. One of the side groups needed to be taken out. He chose the right one.

He did several flash-steps to sporadically dash towards the Muton-majority group charging his way, who quickly took positions and started firing. He quickly created a reflective portal and point-blank killed the Mutons with their own plasma fire, and with the last one he opened a portal underneath and severed it when it had almost followed though, decapitating it.

That was such a useful trick. Shame for him it was currently only a short-range tactic.

He scooped up one of the Vitakara rifles and began firing at the Custodians which were marching from behind him. Relying purely on psionics sadly didn't work. Or at least it wasn't very smart. He wasn't good enough to win this with his power alone. So some augmentation was in order. There were a number of grenades on the soldiers though…

Hmm…

This wasn't the first time the idea had occurred to him, but it was the first time he thought he could pull it off. Green plasma fire was raining down on his position as the aliens were closing in methodically.

He quickly snuck a glance behind his cover towards the encroaching Custodians. Right, he had a decent idea where to open the portal, but he'd just have to do his best. Scooping several grenades, he thrust a hand towards the Custodians, and opened the connecting portal right before him. To his delight, it was almost right on top of the machines. He chucked the grenades into the portal, closed it, and a few seconds later he looked back to be rewarded with the multiple green explosions.

Ha! Got 'em!

Still far from over. He had probably taken out about half at this point. He definitely was more tired than before, but strong enough to know he could still pull it off. Though now was the time where the commander of the aliens would show. For now he shot with his rifle, managing to kill several of them before there was a purple flash, and Occidera, the Chosen assassin materialized.

"Not bad," she growled, drawing her blade. "Let's see how you do now."

Great. At least it wasn't the Hunter who he would be lucky to catch a glimpse of before his unholy accuracy killed him. With the Assassin, he could reliably last a few seconds before he was skewered.

No! Think positive!

She can be beat.

He fired his rifle at her, and she vanished as expected and he leapt back, the plasma fire no longer as much of a concern even as it flew past his visor and left black marks on the floors and barriers. When fighting the Assassin, if you stayed in one place, you died quickly. The Assassin materialized just beside where he'd been with a slash and seamlessly turned to where he was and slashed. He risked a flash-step behind her which worked and he fired in the split-second he hand.

She stumbled with a grunt and disappeared and rematerialized beside him with a slash he only just barely avoided. She stabbed, and placing a hand before his chest he opened a small portal her weapon went into, which he quickly closed, breaking the blade in turn. Her free hand shot out and grabbed his rifle, ripping it out of his hands.

He opened a portal underneath her, hoping to kill her the same way he'd killed the Muton, but she vanished mid-fall, materializing a couple meters away from him. He stumbled as plasma fire hit him; the aliens taking advantage of his distraction to flank him. He created a portal in the area where some of the fire was coming from and directed the connecting portal towards the Assassin, who'd tossed her broken blade aside; she flash-stepped to the side to dodge the plasma fire and turned his tactic against him.

He felt the ground vanish from underneath him and in desperation tried to flash step but it was too late and there was a sharp pain around his waste and the Dreamscape reset. Groaning on the ground, he rested his head on the ground, frustrated with himself from forgetting the most important rule in fighting a teleporter – always keep moving.

"You did better that time," Fiona said from above him. "That really was harsh of T'Leth, throwing a teleporter at you like that."

"My own fault," Kunio groaned as Fiona hauled him to his feet, the pain in his waist receding slowly. "Should have kept moving."

"I'm pretty sure the only reason he did that is because you took out half the aliens pretty quickly, that was good work," she complimented. "Definitely your best so far."

"Thanks," he took off the helmet, feeling the cooler atmosphere of the Dreamscape wash over his face. "It's becoming easier."

"I noticed," she nodded. "Flash-stepping is becoming more natural. You got a good shot at her with that flank. Remember though you're not limited to the ground. You have the entire battlefield to play with and utilize." She drew her sword, it glinting in the light. "There's a reason I, and a lot of teleporters, carry melee weapons. It's easy to get in close, strike from the air, or backstab. It's less cumbersome than a gun if you know what you're doing."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You're still working out your own style though. But I'd think about how you want to best operate, and then tool your arsenal to support that. The Chronicler is a Dynamo, so he's effectively a wrecking ball wherever he goes. I don't have that, so I carry this to compensate my own close-range attacks. You seem to like using the portals offensively though. Try and think of some way to take advantage of that if you keep refining that."

He nodded. "I will."

"Let's keep going here a bit longer before we transfer this to the real world," she said, sheathing the sword over her shoulder. "You recovered?"

"Recovered enough," he said, turning to follow her. "Let's continue."

---

Mess Hall, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/11/2017 – 12:02

"So you were what before?" Ana Berkley, Jackson's primary public relations correspondent said incredulously as she ate absentmindedly.

"ADVENT Internal Logistics Management and Communication," Barron recited in a false dramatic voice, taking a sip of water before his tone turned dry. "More accurately, I sent a lot of emails and made some phone calls to middle management who may or may not have properly passed them along."

"Yeah, you definitely missed your calling," she said, sliding the clipboard of drawings back over to him. "Surprised you didn't go to Disney or something. In any case I'm sure Jackson will find something to do with this, right?"

"For sure," Jackson agreed. "I'd never guess this was anything other than professional work. You have a daughter, right?"

"Yes, I do," he nodded. "I do this for her when I can. Honestly it's not something many people have known about before now."

"Where is she living now, if you don't mind my asking," the Commander asked, sitting across from him. "You don't necessarily have to be separated. The Praesidium has housing for families."

"I appreciate the offer, Commander, but I will pass," he said with as deliberate caution, likely to avoid causing offense, if the Commander read the tone correctly. Not that he really would have been offended either way. "This job is…high risk, even here; even with what I do. I am aware of the recent attack here, and while I'm certain adjustments have been made, it is too high of a risk for me to consider. To answer your first question, she's in Richmond with my wife. They're both safe as one can be right now."

The Commander raised his eyebrow, picking up on the choice of wording. "She's with your wife? Not her mother?"

Barron pursed his lips. "Poor choice of words, Commander. Yes, her mother, though not biological." He pursed his lips. "She's my second wife. I lost my first wife some time ago."

"My condolences," the Commander inclined his head. "I can unfortunately relate."

Barron cocked his head. "Can you now? No matter."

"In the invasion?" Jackson asked gingerly.

"No, not connected to this," Barron gestured idly. "Just a mix of incompetence and bad luck. Murdered on the street by an escaped prisoner, because of corrupt guards I later found out. Didn't even go out trying to kill her. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Did they catch him?" The Commander asked.

"No, he escaped," Barron said simply, as his long fingers rapped idly on the table as he went silent for a few seconds. "For all I know he died somewhere in the wilderness alone. There've been no leads ever since. I check in a couple times a year, and there's never anything." He paused again. "In a way, I'm glad it happened when she was still a toddler. Before it could have really damaged her. Even so, it was…difficult."

He shrugged, giving a faint, thin, but sad smile. "However, I've managed to move on."

"That's good to hear," Jackson nodded. "I can't imagine what that would be like."

"I hope you never do," Barron said, before turning to her. "Do you have family?"

"Ha, yes, but I'm not married," Jackson answered, resting her arms on the table. "Couple boyfriends here and there, but nothing ever panned out. Always been more focused on work, which is how I eventually ended up here."

"And we are grateful for it," the Commander lifted his glass. "Although there isn't anything prohibiting you from taking some time to yourself."

"Yes, I suppose you would know about that Commander," she said with a slight hint of mockery.

Ana glanced suspiciously to Jackson. "What?"

"Him and the Chief Scientist," Jackson smirked. "You really didn't hear about that?"

"I've barely been here longer than he has!" Ana gestured to Barron. "Uh, congratulations?"

"I don't make a point flaunting it," the Commander said dryly. "But thanks. Though I would prefer it didn't unnecessarily contribute to the rumor mill." He glanced to Jackson. "Something you seem to be fairly acquainted with."

"Zhang passes along relevant pieces of information," Jackson defended with a shrug. "I do need to know what the workforce is thinking and hearing, after all. Though you'll be happy to know that the thing with you and Vahlen is mostly too boring to get much attention. Pretty much everyone noticed it after a while."

"I am a true master of stealth," the Commander deadpanned. "I'll have to ask Zhang why I'm not getting this information. Or the rest of the Internal Council for that matter."

"Because most of it is dumb, irrelevant, and unnecessarily dark at times," Jackson rubbed her forehead. "Like…there were a couple of people betting on whether Creed will get a new girl or off himself."

"Jesus," Ana muttered. "Pathetic cretins."

"Trust me, I put a stop to that," Jackson clarified. "But yeah, stuff like that which would probably have had Creed actually hurt someone if he read it. I referred them to Zhang for internal investigation. Not sure what verdict he gave. Might still be working on that."

"I'll have to check on that," the Commander frowned, disliking that was something going on, even if it was only a few people, which was unfortunately inevitable with a fairly large workforce which XCOM possessed. Granted, there was some dark humor he could tolerate, but there was a fine line when it came to that. "And I want on that list, regardless. I'd prefer knowing the mindset of the personnel."

"Got it," Jackson made a quick note on a loose piece of paper. "It will be done."

---

Psionic Research Lab, Research Labs, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/13/2017 – 1:22 P.M.

There was a pervasive aura to the Psionic Research Labs, likely the result of so much experimentation with the field. It had grown in the past weeks to one of the largest parts of the Research wing of the Praesidium, and more and more psionic researchers had been brought in from ADVENT.

Now, upon the backs of months of work, theory, and application, the hard work and sleepless nights had produced something.

The Commander stood before Vahlen, Iosif, Geist, Kong, Aegis, and Lavallic ir Nara, all of them leading the charge on Project Lethe in one form or another. The psionic research project which had been mere theory only half a year ago was now something tangible. And apparently that wasn't the only thing they had discovered.

Vahlen and Geist had told him of a breakthrough that would change the war. He was hopeful – though skeptical - that would be the case, but first there were the results of the project to see.

The spherical room, normally filled with tables, strewn equipment, and various levels and types of disorganized clutter had been cleared with only a couple tables in the middle of the room holding weapons of various kinds on them, as well as some silver cases. Behind them were several holding cells which normally were used for testing – on or by subjects or scientists – that had been turned into makeshift ranges which the Commander presumed were going to be used to show off the new technology.

"It was never a question of if it was possible to merge psionics and technology," Vahlen began, herself in her usual lab coat and uniform, once everyone was situated. Her speech-like opening underscored that this was a major event, if the number of major individuals standing around her hadn't. "There are numerous examples. The Gateways and psionic gauntlets were two major examples. However, the exact mechanics of the Gateways are still beyond us, and we wanted to do something greater than what the Sectoids did – a simple design, and relatively straightforward."

"To provide some additional context," Geist stepped forward, the psion in casual fatigues that resembled the attire psions used in the Psionic Testing Range, gesturing to the table. "The Sectoid gauntlets proved the basic theory. Replicating it was possible some time ago. However, it was of limited utility. The underlying technology needs two things to effectively function – a source to tap into the Psionosphere, and the ability for the power to be 'coded' to a specific output. That was where the difficulty lay. However," he nodded to ir Nara, who stood nearby in a lab coat of her own. "Thanks to the efforts of our Sovereign assistant, we were able to break the initial stages of the code."

"Thank you, ir Nara," the Commander inclined his head. "Your contributions will not be forgotten."

"I would hope not," she said dryly, lips pursed. "Though your thanks is…appreciated."

"Our understanding is still not complete, though we have developed a number of prototypes," Geist picked up one of the weapons, a black and angular rifle-like weapon. There were several cords hanging off of it, which he plugged into some implants on his firing arm which the Commander hadn't noticed before.

"The power of the psionic weapons comes from the psion," Geist explained, indicating the wires. "Technology alone cannot tap into the psionosphere – with the singular exception being the Gateways. There must be an organic mind capable of perceiving it. Alternately, the mind can act as a proxy; a connection. As such, these weapons must be connected to psions to work."

Geist walked over to the makeshift range with the small crowd of people following behind. "We've had the most success so utilizing Dynamo psionics," Vahlen said as Geist lifted the weapon and prepared to fire. "However, that is certainly not the only discipline we are able to adapt."

Geist fired the rifle and there was a purple flash from the muzzle as a dozen psionic bolts shot out towards the target, which was a propped-up suit of Titan armor. The bolts slammed into it, and one barrage had already penetrated multiple places and ripped chunks of it off. Another direct barrage turned it into scraps of metal which clanked to the ground.

Well, that was definitely an effective demonstration. "If the weapons draw power from the psion," the Commander said as Geist, lowered his weapon and turned stiffly back to them, rolling his shoulders. "Does it have an impact on the psion?"

"Yes, it does," Geist confirmed with a sharp nod. "These weapons have no ammunition or power limitations, but they will drain the psions over time. Just as the regular usage of psionics will be draining, so will this. However, as the concentration isn't as strong, it will not necessarily be as impactful compared to typical usage."

"Do weapons like that damage the materials inside?" the Commander asked, taking a closer look at the weapon.

"Yes and no," Kong said, speaking for the first time. "To some extent it depends on the weapon. We worked to limit the amount of direct exposure to the psionosphere – especially for Dynamo-based weapons. After heavy usage, some components will need to be replaced, but those are minor. There are, however, many delicate components within each weapon, and damaging them could make the weapon unusable. Psions will need to handle these weapons with care. They cannot endure the same type of beatings our plasma rifles have received."

"Good to know," the Commander nodded. "So handle with responsible care."

"Exactly," Kong confirmed.

The psion betrayed no indication that he was tired after the display, and unhooked the rifle from the implants and set it back on the table. "We've developed a pistol and sniper equivalents as well," he said, motioning to the other weapons on the table. The Commander took a closer look, noting they were similar in the angular design of the rifle, though his eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a massive cannon.

"What is that one?"

Iosif grinned, looking to Kong who spoke. "That, Commander, is what the engineers call the Annihilator Cannon."

"You just saw what the rifle did?" Iosif asked. "Magnify that times ten at least."

"The engineers said, and correct me if I am mistaken Dr. Mercado, 'I want this thing to shred a Herald,'" Geist added neutrally, using air quotes for good measure. "I would test it out, however, that weapon draws so much energy that it would render me unable to demonstrate anything else. I would suggest you acquire a psionic volunteer if you want to see it in action. Rest assured that it works."

"No need," the Commander nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

"But to demonstrate the versatility of what we have been able to create, I do want to showcase this one," Geist picked up a weapon with a circular tube, a smaller and wider barrel, with multiple prongs around the end of the barrel. Once he plugged it in, the prongs opened and there was a tangible distortion around the barrel end.

"This is the first iteration of the Gravity Gun," Geist began as he turned to the debris. "A misnomer, as there is no gravity involved. The weapon does, however, utilize telekinesis which can be used like this." He aimed the Gravity Gun and the pieces of the Titan armor were lifted into the air, with the prongs respectively extending and retracting as he manipulated the settings.

"Once I have control, I have options," he continued, fiddling with the rifle, flipping switches and turning dials with a proficiency suggesting he'd been using it regularly. There was far more activity than most weapons he'd seen. "Bringing it closer, farther, moving it side to side, or projecting it," he manipulated the gun to perform the actions as he explained them, culminating with the pieces being violently thrown into the wall as the Gravity Gun powered down.

"Impressive work," the Commander nodded. "Though it does seem like that is a more complicated weapon to operate."

"It certainly is," Geist agreed. "It requires a degree of proficiency and training. However, it is very powerful. It is not as versatile as a true Telekine, but it is as close as we can make it."

"There is only one last major weapon we've been able to produce in a working capacity," Vahlen picked up a small weapon resembling a pistol with a configurable dish-like attachment at the end of the weapon. "The Mind Ray. A handheld telepathic projector, configurable to hit a 180 degree radius or small enough to hit a single person."

"How does that work?" The Commander asked, cocking his head as he looked at the weapon. "You think a psionic command and it is…projected?"

"No, if that was the case this weapon would be redundant," Vahlen refuted with a shake of her head. "The idea with these weapons is to make the psion do less work. Not to mention the ability to perform direct mind-to-command output has drawbacks. This weapon is capable of dispersing simple commands to unprotected minds. Configurable with the setting here," she turned a small dial which had a different color and symbol for each click. "Stun, sleep, kill. Simple, but effective. A useful sidearm for psions to have. No direct mind control yet, but we hope to reach that point soon."

"We do have a number of prototypes which we have not finalized yet," Geist added. "Ones utilizing Aegii and Teleportation psionics specifically, and a simplified and heavier version of the Gravity Gun. I suspect those are several weeks out at minimum."

"An accurate timeframe," Vahlen agreed, then nodded to ir Nara. "Should we move to the next piece?"

"Yes," the woman approached the cases which were small cabinets as it turned out, and pulled one open with a hiss. White mist wafted out as it revealed a dozen grenade-like objects set within.

"Psionic grenades?" He asked, glancing to Vahlen. "If you need an organic connection to the psionosphere…"

"And that was a problem we were having issues solving," Vahlen finished. "We were about to move on to more promising aspects before ir Nara proposed a solution."

"Psionic technology only needs an organic connection," the stoic woman continued Vahlen's introduction, gingerly picking up one of the grenades. "It does not necessarily have to be alive. Each of these grenades has a small portion of organic brain matter derived from Sectoids, Humans, and Ethereals – none appear superior in this instance. We program the technology in the same way, and when the grenade is set to activate, electric pulses are shot through the 'brain', activating the connection to the psionosphere, and thus, the grenade."

"And with that, the issue was circumvented," Geist finished with an approving nod. "The drawback is that these grenades do have a 'lifespan'. Keeping them in cold storage – while not necessary – increases their usability. The brain matter will eventually decompose to the point of being rendered unusable, which appears to be after significant use, or three days left alone."

"Has MELD been used to prevent atrophy?" The Commander asked.

"It is being used," Vahlen confirmed. "However, there are limits to what even MELD can do with so little to work with. The good news is that we designed the cases so a new 'brain' can be implanted into shells with relative ease."

"Then not a major concern," the Commander nodded, taking the grenade offered by ir Nara. The grenade was designed similarly to conventional ones, though near the top was a small dial.

"Radius," Vahlen explained as he fiddled with it. "I would keep it at the lowest for in here."

"Good idea," he nodded. "And the trigger?"

She slid back a short flap which covered a button, preventing it from being accidentally jostled or activated. "When you press the button and release, you have five seconds," Vahlen said. "The standard time."

"Understood." The Commander moved to the second range, which had some mock Collective soldiers set up. He primed, then threw the grenade close to the center of the pod, then watched as there was a localized explosion of violent purple energy, as the psionosphere was ripped apart.

The pod, which seemed to have been made out of only cheaper materials and metals, was ripped apart completely. Even the ground was heavily scorched and broken, with the concrete cracked and chipped. The only thing intact was the grenade itself which sat in the center of the ashes.

"Impressive," he said, turning back to them. "Should be an upgrade for our plasma grenades, especially since non-psions can use them."

"And like the weapons, we've applied more…unconventional abilities to them," Geist said, picking up a different grenade. This one was closer to a pure, smooth sphere. "Simple telepathic commands were also able to be programmed, and this is the result."

The Commander took the sphere, noting another small dial which was similar to the one on the Mind Ray. Configurable then? Excellent. "This is the telepathic grenade then?"

"The scientists prefer calling it the Thought Bomb," Iosif said with an amused tone. "Not as clinical, but pretty accurate."

"I like that," the Commander said as they moved to a range which had a trapped Sectoid drone in it. It was scurrying around, watching suspiciously. A glass barrier was between the alien and XCOM observers, though the top was open. The Commander set the grenade to sleep and a low radius, primed the grenade, and tossed it near the Sectoid. There was a brief ripple in the air in a clear radius, which the alien was trapped within, and the Sectoid fell over.

"It took out a Sectoid," the Commander raised an eyebrow as he watched the alien sleeping on the ground. "More powerful than I expected."

"Admittedly, Sectoid drones are not the most psionically proficient," Vahlen said. "We estimate that the Thought Bomb is strong enough to overpower their defenses if not enhanced by a mind merge, but it is unlikely Vanguards will succumb, nor anyone whose mind is sufficiently protected. This would likely be useless if, say, the Overmind provided protection to an army, but in most instances…it can be a devastating weapon. It can't be blocked by armor, walls, or defenses." She tapped her head. "Only minds."

"Again, excellent work," the Commander said, giving a brief salute. "I don't see how the Collective will be able to respond quickly to this."

"And like with the weapons, this is the beginning," Geist added. "There is work on grenades utilizing Telekinesis and Aegii psionics which we expect to be deployed fairly soon."

"A question I do have," the Commander looked to Kong. "This principle has been applied to weapons. I don't suppose it can be applied to armor?"

"Getting slightly ahead, Commander," Vahlen chided. "As a matter of fact, the answer is yes. However, the armor aspect of Project Lethe isn't as developed and we have only truly created one battle-ready suit." She gestured, and a couple of assistances wheeled in a propped suit of armor.

This one had more similarities to the Warden-Class Titan armor than true Titan armor. It was not as thick, though more mobile; it was colored black; the armor almost seemed to have a corded quality to it, and there were additional ports and miscellaneous lights and items across the suit.

"The Aurora Armor," Kong said, stepping closer to it. "Dr. Shen helped design the original concept, though the first prototypes were only built recently. It isn't quite as impressive – yet. Psions connected to it can activate psionic barriers around armor pieces, are automatically telepathically protected, and more importantly, is designed for psions to use the dedicated weaponry."

"So this is to be the standard psion armor moving forward?"

"We intend such," Vahlen confirmed with a nod. "Until more specialized suits are developed. The same versatility the weapons have provided, we should also do to armor." She activated a small holoprojector on the table and cycled through several design prototypes. "Maelstrom, Vortex, Aegis, Domination, Shadow, there is no shortage of prototypes, let alone ideas. The idea is to round out the psions to give them capabilities they are not naturally inclined to."

"How soon will these be produced?" He asked.

"Unknown," Kong answered. "The Maelstrom and Aegis armors are the 'simplest'. More complex variants like Domination and Shadow…those will take longer."

"Understood, I suspect this will be sufficient for some time," the Commander paused, then decided to voice something which had wormed its way into his mind since the demonstration had started. "I'm curious – we had assumed that the MEC program would be unable to weaponize psionics. In light of the developments…has that changed?"

Vahlen hesitated, and exchanged a glance with Kong before answering. "A tentative yes, Commander. In theory I believe it is possible. If the pilot is simply a conduit for the psionic power…it should be possible. I've talked to Kong about a Leviathan-Class MEC prototype, but neither of us are certain it would work; not enough to prioritize it."

"Consider this authorization to prioritize it," the Commander said immediately. "Based on your explanations and demonstrations, I see no reason why it shouldn't work. If the MEC program can utilize psionics, we have a force multiplier the Collective will be hard-pressed to answer outside of an Ethereal."

"Understood, Commander," Vahlen made a quick note on a nearby pad of paper. "I'll determine more details with Dr. Mercado soon."

"And I will be ready to assist," Kong finished.

"Excellent," the Commander looked to Geist. "I believe there was also one more topic you wanted to discuss. One of importance, judging from the claims."

"I was the one who stated it would change the war," Geist said evenly. "And it is a claim I stand behind. I would not classify this as a new understanding of Psionics – our knowledge has not been wholly upended after – as much as a logical extension of what we already know. The Psionosphere is something which can be manipulated – we all know this – and it's manipulations come through the natural instinct psions have towards aspects of the Psionosphere."

He made a circular motion with his wrist. "Telepathy, Telekinesis, Aegii, Dynamo, Teleportation, discounting all of the sub-disciplines. It is likely there are more we have simply not comprehended yet. The conventional understanding has been that the manipulation goes, for lack of a better word, one way. We can only effect change in one direction through the Psionosphere."

"Manipulation," Vahlen supplied with a nod. "The Psionosphere is tangibly changed. It is broken by a Dynamo, hardened by an Aegii, connected by a Teleporter, and so on."

"Assuming I follow this line of logic," the Commander said. "You're suggesting the opposite is possible, which is…doing nothing?"

"No, not like that," Geist disputed before clarifying. "We have been acting under the assumption that there are limits to how the psionosphere can be manipulated. A Dynamo can only break it. An Aegii can only harden it. The question then is what if they could do the opposite?"

All together it clicked for the Commander.

And when it did, he understood that Geist had not been exaggerating.

This could change the war.

"You're saying instead of just a creating a psionic shield, an Aegii could destroy one," he said slowly.

"Almost, Commander," Geist took a step forward intently, his eyes holding a sharp intensity. "I'm saying that an Aegii could prevent a shield from ever forming in the first place."

He looked to Aegis. "A demonstration is in order, I believe. Aegis, would you?"

"Of course," the small group stepped back from the Ethereal as he encased himself in an impenetrable box with a lifted palm. The purple glow of the shimmering shields was as strong as the Commander had seen before. The Ethereal nodded to Geist who returned the nod, as the air distorted around him.

A small amount of psionic energy emanated from the stoic Human, as he raised a hand towards the encased Ethereal. The Commander saw the psionic shields initially seem resilient, though then they…wavered. It was subtle, but there. Like a flickering light that was determined to remain.

Geist closed a fist, and the shields dissolved, leaving Aegis exposed.

The room stood in silence for a few moments as Geist lowered his arm and the distortion around him faded. "Incredible," the Commander said softly, turning to the psion. "This can be done for every discipline."

"Yes," Geist affirmed. "In fact, to a degree it has already been done. Teleporters have the ability to prevent teleportation, and the Chronicler has demonstrated it before. However, to my knowledge this is the only 'common' practice of what we are calling the Psionic Nullification Theory. In short – every action the psion can perform can be countered by another psion."

"Which sounds more complicated than it is," Vahlen interjected. "A Psionic 'Null' acts as a…stabilizer for lack of a better word. At the core, a Dynamo for example, breaks the psionosphere. An Aegii hardens it. A telepath exploits the connections. A telekine manipulates the strings. A teleporter moves through it."

She lifted a finger for each category before continuing. "A Null can heal the tears or prevent the psionosphere from being torn in the first place. It can be forced to remain unable to be hardened. It can make telepathic connections unable to be formed. It can keep the strings loose and untethered. It can lock the metaphorical doors that teleporters move between."

The Commander shook his head in disbelief. "We cannot have been the first to discover this. Others had to have known. The Ethereals had to know. The Sovereigns?"

"Theorized, perhaps, Commander," Aegis said slowly. "However, there is a…lack of incentive for a species like mine to investigate such paths. This does not go one way. As an enemy will be prevented from exercising psionics, so too will your own allies. We are a species of psions. A discovery like this would…weaken us more than the alternative. As well as expose a vulnerability in our power."

There was a long, pregnant pause. "I cannot believe the Imperator is unaware of this discovery. Nor any of his closest advisors. But he has not said anything because it serves no purpose. An Ethereal who acts as a Null would be useless as their own power is restricted. It turns battles that would be decided by psions into battles that can be decided with armies. The masses. It is simply not an acceptable tradeoff."

"Except that for us, it would be," the Commander finished. "And if the Ethereals could be negated, our conventional forces could succeed – and there are not enough Ethereals to overwhelm us."

"Exactly," Geist said. "The power the Ethereals have is enormous. But they are few and limited. We, unlike the Ethereals, are not reliant on psionics. We have the capability to limit ourselves and not be weakened. Not even the Imperator could prevent this. With enough Nulls, even his power could be suppressed."

"In theory, yes," Aegis lifted a hand. "Yet I would exercise caution. When I have used my power when Geist has acted as a Null, it has not rendered the psionosphere impossible to manipulate. It instead feels like it is…fighting me. It resists my manipulation. I suspect that if I dedicated myself, I could overpower his negation, but in the heat of battle, it will be enough to break unsuspecting psions, and certainly limit what they are capable of."

"So, you're saying it's not foolproof," the Commander nodded.

"No," Aegis confirmed. "Power is important, but in a different context. A single Null would not stop the Imperator. But with each one, his power will be weakened. And it only weakens one aspect unless a psion is particularly skilled. An Aegii Null can only negate Aegii psionics. A Telekine Null can only negate telekinesis. There are limitations, and against the Imperator, you would need dozens of powerful Nulls to make an impact."

"The potency of a Null is directly tied to their Trask Level," Geist added further. "An Adept Null will be less potent than a Magus Null. It is not an exact science – that we have determined – as to how proportional the negation is. It is not a simple subtraction of the Trask Level of a Null to that of the target, but there is a noticeable impact."

"There are some other limitations," Iosif interjected from the first time. "Like certain sub-disciplines, not everyone can become a Null. While it doesn't appear to require a unique mindset – like Biopathy does – a Null must be an expert in their respective discipline to correctly understand and apply Null Theory. Geist, myself, and Aegis for example can and have learned it – a new psion cannot immediately do so. They must effectively master their own discipline and then learn Null Theory later."

"It is a mindset shift to a degree," Geist admitted, rubbing his chin. "It is effectively learning how to reverse what you have been doing since your power has been awakened. Thus, not every psion will be a Null, but every psion could be a Null."

"And there are tactical considerations to consider when utilizing Nulls," Iosif added. "Namely that while in theory it is possible for nullification to be localized, the psion does know they're being affected. So moving out of the field is simple. Too many redirections can tire the Null. It is simpler to make it a wide radius, which can negate impact of similarly-disciplined psions. We would not benefit from allied psions, but neither would the enemy."

"A trade-off, but a justifiable one," the Commander said.

"Exactly," Iosif nodded. "We are not the Ethereals. We do not rely on psionics like they have. And even if a Null is not powerful enough to completely negate their power – it will weaken and limit them to a degree. Like a debilitating poison."

"As far as the Sovereigns go," ir Nara said, a finger tapping her lip thoughtfully. "I suspect it is a similar rationale to the Ethereals. They are on a level where they are not reliant on psionics, but even if they were, their sheer power could likely overcome an army of Nulls. I suspect they are aware of the theory, but it simply isn't important."

"In terms of discovery, it is unlikely we are the first species to learn of this," Vahlen added. "For all we know, other species not yet encountered know it. The Bringer is likely aware of it. However, we may be the only species alive right now who has not only discovered it, but can actively take advantage of it."

"It would be useful against the Ethereals," the Commander nodded thoughtfully. "But not necessarily the Sovereigns."

"At this moment, yes, Commander," Geist stated. "However, this is an extremely new and rapidly developing field. I would not make assumptions as to how this can be scaled. Even if it is not perfect – or scalable – we have a viable path to victory over the Imperator and the Sovereigns we did not before."

"Indeed we do. How many psions do we have who can be trained in Null Theory?" The Commander asked.

"We're determining that now," Geist said with a quick glance as Iosif. "Perhaps a dozen. Likely a few less."

"And ADVENT?"

"That requires your authorization, Commander," Vahlen said. "In my personal opinion, we lose absolutely nothing by making this as public as possible. Even if the Ethereals learn of it, it will not help them. If we have a dozen psions who could be Nulls, ADVENT will likely have hundreds."

"Hundreds against one Ethereal?" The Commander smiled slowly. "I like those odds. Tell Jackson to send it directly to ADVENT, with an advisement to make it public." He looked to Geist. "I suspect the general public will be more…emboldened if they know we can negate the power of the Ethereals."

"And if the aliens also know that," Geist finished with a matching, slightly sinister smile. "Then they might begin to realize that they are on the losing side."

"Perhaps," the Commander said thoughtfully. "But first we have to slay their gods."

---

Mission Briefing Room, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/15/2017 – 8:11 A.M.

Nearly two dozen Humans and one Ethereal stood in a moderately lit room in two rows, which was before a holotable, the Commander of XCOM and Intelligence Director Zhang. Kunio didn't know what was going on, but he had a general idea.

There was a mission happening soon.

One that he was part of.

He didn't think it was a coincidence that this mission was being launched just after XCOM had begun unveiling really new and advanced weapons. The psionic weapons, grenades, and armor were particularly amazing, which he'd spent several straight days getting practice on, along with pretty much any psion.

Seemed like XCOM wasn't wasting any more time.

And, subsequently, it meant his introductory time in XCOM was over. It was time for his first mission – whatever that was going to be. If he'd had to guess, he would have doubted it would be something major or important. Maybe striking a Collective base or defending a city; missions he knew other XCOM squads often did.

Although walking into the room, he saw there were a lot of people who he recognized as having seniority in XCOM. There was Fiona, Geist, and the intense South Korean woman…Carmelita, he believed her name was, one of the oldest veterans in XCOM, Fatima Tariq, one of the most experienced telepaths, and two of the new MEC pilots.

It didn't look like this was going to be a simple or minor mission.

Most of the other soldiers he vaguely recognized as being around base, newer recruits like he was. Some Engineers, some Infantry, a couple of psions – Gabriella Otto for one, she was one of the psionic Templars. Australian he believed, who of course fought with a machete and had a clear dislike of aliens, even the ones on base.

He couldn't necessarily blame her.

"Some of you are newer to XCOM," the Commander began, stepping forward, hands clasped behind his back. "But you are likely aware that, for a time, Aegis was not our only Ethereal ally. The Ethereal Caelior had also defected to us following his capture and was intended to be a major part of our offensive."

The Commander began pacing in front of them, making eye contact with all of them. "Unfortunately, when Patricia attacked, she captured him and took him to an unknown location. Since she was aware that taking Caelior off-world would kill him due to contingencies we implemented, we were confident he remained on Earth – though were unaware of the exact location – until now."

"We have acquired reliable information that Caelior is being kept in a highly secret laboratory Revelean has established on Earth," Zhang activated the holotable, showcasing a blinking red dot somewhere in the Arctic. "We suspect this location has been built for some time, but we are aware of no major bases with this much secrecy – or tied to Revelean."

"Our estimate is that Revelean is trying to work around, or negate, the Manchurian Restraints on Caelior," the Commander continued. "We have confirmation that Revelean has spent a considerable amount of time, and made a number of dedicated trips there. If Caelior is being kept on Earth, there is a high probability he is there."

"Do we have schematics or a layout?" Carmelita asked.

"No," Zhang shook his head. "We couldn't risk direct infiltration and spook the Collective into moving Caelior somewhere else. We know the lab has a limited above-ground profile, but that it probably extends several levels deep. We can only make estimates on the level of defenses."

"If I can extrapolate," Aegis interjected. "I believe Revelean will have based the defenses similarly to his Blacksite. A very large number of technological defenses and sensors acquired from Fectorian to start with."

"Custodians?" Geist inquired.

"Perhaps, but Revelean doesn't like using complex machines," Aegis answered. "Not for warfare. So, while there will be automated turrets and sensors – likely a CODEX – there are unlikely to be Custodians or heavily cybernetic defenses."

"We're walking into a mad scientist's lab," Gabriella snorted. "He'll probably release his monsters."

"Unlikely," Aegis shook his head. "Test subjects are one of the most secure aspects of Revelean's work. As a warning, I would not intentionally release them either. If they are secure, it is for a reason. No, you are more likely to encounter his dedicated guard – aliens which have been personally enhanced by him. Beyond conventional Collective levels. I cannot predict what you will encounter, as he prizes uniqueness and will retain unconformative experiments if they can be controlled."

"It might help if we knew what he was working on," Kunio spoke up. "Is it entirely focused on Caelior?"

"We do not believe so," Zhang exchanged a look with Aegis. "We suspect that Revelean has oriented his lab to research the Manchurian Restraints – either to negate or replicate them. Likely negate, as the Collective is capable of similar conditioning."

"So…could we encounter ADVENT captives?" One of the Infantry, Zoe Madden asked. "Or any captives for that matter?"

"It isn't outside the realm of possibility," Zhang nodded. "However, that is not your objective. You are going to go in, get Caelior, and get out as quickly as possible. It is very possible that reinforcements – including Patricia or another Ethereal – will arrive quickly. This is not a rescue or recovery op. Do not stop for captives or anything you see. Leave or destroy it, though watch your fire. We don't know where Caelior is, and friendly fire is a concern."

"Will Revelean be there?" Geist asked.

"Unknown," Aegis said. "It is possible."

"If you get a shot, take it," the Commander advised. "But don't go out of your way."

"Got it," Carmelita gave a sharp nod. "Is there an operational plan when we're inside, or are we going to wander until we find him?"

"There will be two squads, Hurricane and Tornado," the Commander said, as Zhang manipulated the display to show two different colored teams moving to the holographic compound. "Hurricane will consist of Aegis, Fiona, Geist, Gabriella, Sabrina, Valerian, and Leonilda. Our Medic, Engineers, and psions who can move quickly. Their mission is to search and find Caelior."

The Commander focused on Carmelita. "You will have Operator Walsh, psions Azuma and Fatima, with Kente, Madden, and Pinero carrying some of our newly developed weaponry." He nodded to Martha Kente, the Gunner. "The Gamma Cannon I expect to be used wisely."

"Yes, Commander," she said quickly with a sharp nod.

"MEC Pilots Easu and Athena will also be with you," he continued, gesturing to the respective, towering, MEC pilots. "The Jaeger suits are ideally suited for this kind of environment. Your objective is simple – to be a distraction while Hurricane Squad gets Caelior. You have enough firepower, though not enough psions to likely determine a proportional response. The Collective might think it is a raid attempt and their defenses can hold it off. Cause as much damage and kill as many aliens as possible."

"And this assumes they don't notice the other team?" Geist said doubtfully.

"I expect they will respond most quickly to the explosions and gunfire," the Commander said dryly. "Besides, Sabrina, there will be an ally you'll insert into the network once you get inside. It should fast-track your mission to Caelior."

"I thought you would never get to me," JULIAN said from the localized speakers, his tone artificially irritated. "I am curious to test myself against the best cyber defenses the Collective will presumably have. Once inside – because I am certain I will surpass their defenses – I will make sure to…streamline your path."

"There will be some other distractions going on at the same time," Zhang added. "The Pantheon is planning to hit several hardened Collective targets. Not to destroy them, but to draw their attention. They should buy several hours at least."

"Understood," Carmelita nodded. "Anything else

The Commander lifted up a specialized USB drive and handed it to Sabrina. "Here is what you'll use to install JULIAN. Treat it carefully."

Once Sabrina grabbed it, JULIAN unleashed a piercing wail "AHHHHHHHH!"

The Engineer understandably started and the drive slipped out of her hands and tumbled to the ground, JULIAN dramatically screaming the whole way down, until a few seconds passed and the AI realized the drive wasn't actually on the ground, and hovering a few inches above it. It floated back to the Commander's hand who looked to the ceiling with a bemused expression on his face. "Are you done?"

"For now, Commander," JULIAN said with snide amusement. "You Humans startle easily. I should do this more often."

"Please don't," Sabrina muttered, with a red flush on her cheeks as she pocketed the drive.

"With no more surprises, your mission is outlined, and you will convene in the Hangar in six hours," the Commander said, saluting them. "Good luck. Bring Caelior back."

---

Cybernetic Conversion Wing, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/15/2017 – 8:12 A.M.

The room was clean and quiet, with only the hum of machinery in the background. Sterile white light shone down, sometimes tempered by the multicolored alien lights that remained remnants of the previously-owned alien base.

Sierra sat on the edge of the hospital bed, in simple hospital garments. Pre-surgery garments to be more specific. She wondered why doctors always allowed a break before taking patients into surgery. It seemed badly scheduled and gave unnecessary time to reflect. Although it wasn't as though she was reconsidering.

But it was isolating.

Anna and Ted were waiting outside, and would remain there until the surgery was complete. Sierra hoped they didn't. According to the doctors this surgery was going to take a really long time. She was perfectly fine with them coming back when she was actually conscious. She'd said as much.

Probably just saying that to make her feel better.

She appreciated it nonetheless. Since her talk with Athena she'd been leaning more and more towards doing it. A lot of what the woman had said had made sense, or at least pointed her in the right direction. Talking about it more with them, doing some more research, and thinking about the contribution to XCOM…

Mmm. There really wasn't a question if she would be more useful to XCOM as a MEC Pilot than staying an Archangel. And unlike most, she had a rather unique skillset, experience, and perspective for the new MEC suit that had been completed. In the end, that had been the tipping factor.

She was XCOM. A defender of Humanity who would do whatever it took to protect Earth against the aliens. There had never been a question if she was willing to die. Death was an ever-present reality, but it didn't scare her like it had when she was younger. Maybe because she'd brushed with it enough times, or maybe because she knew there would be someone to take her place in the fight.

It wasn't to say that people wouldn't be hurt if she died, but her circles were small and mostly professional. Not to mention they would understand. There were few deaths more noble than dying for your species.

But of course, doing whatever it took didn't necessarily mean giving your life. It could simply be a sacrifice made. Perhaps a dangerous mission, suffering wounds, or losing your body piece by piece. Or – as it turned out – all of it. A voluntary sacrifice for the greater good. And that had been it.

It came down to what she wanted, and ultimately she wanted to do the right thing. She'd never thought of herself as a fanatic or overly patriotic, but here she was, sacrificing her body for the greater good of Humanity. Athena had been right when she'd said she was ideally suited for something like this.

It was a decision which would largely only affect her. Luckily there were no other people to really worry about. Her friends were supportive, she knew people who would help her adjust, and XCOM would appreciate it. This was what she wanted to do. There was the chance she would regret it, but she honestly didn't consider it likely.

She knew what she was doing.

This was her decision.

The right one.

"Miss Morrow?" She looked up as one of the doctors walked in.

He cleared his throat. "We are ready whenever you are."

"I'm ready," she said with a nod and prepared to lay back on the bed, though paused. There was a mirror nearby, and she looked into it for a few seconds. She saw her reflection, and it hit her that this would be the last time she saw herself as she had been. Real skin, eyes, and a face staring back at her.

This would be the last she would truly feel clothes on her body, the faint breeze of air conditioning, or the cool tiles under her feet.

Best not to dwell on it.

After the brief pause, she laid on the bed as more attendants came in to begin rolling her to the operating tables. Her laced fingers rested on her stomach as she felt a calm descend upon her. She was noticeably not nervous or apprehensive, even as nothing really seemed to register as she was moved along.

Goodbye for now, world, she thought as she lay still. But I'll be back, and better than before.

---

Armory, the Praesidium – Classified Location

5/15/2017 – 3:18 P.M.

The Aurora Armor was something which was in some ways more and less complicated to put on. Overall, Kunio decided he liked it better. The Titan Armor was unquestionably more powerful and durable, but it left him slower, less reactive, and there was always the fear that the suit would quit or become too damaged to use, and he knew he wasn't strong enough to walk it unpowered.

In contrast, the Aurora Armor was more modular and traditional. It could be put on piece by piece, and while it took longer, he was willing to sacrifice some equipping speed in favor of the ability to walk in it without a battery. It certainly wasn't as if the armor didn't have extremely durable pieces. It was still better than even ADVENT armor when it came to durability.

Well, maybe comparing it to Titan armor was unfair. Literally anything except maybe the Battlemaster's armor would be inferior to it.

The Aurora armor did admittedly have a more complex dressing process. All psions had been given implants throughout their body to properly let them sync with the suit or weapons, so first there was a full bodysuit to put on, and then the armor would be put over it and 'locked' in place to line up the implants with the connection lines.

All told, it took almost a half hour to get everything put on, although thankfully he wasn't the only psion, and thus not the person finishing last. He pressed the connection switch in the inner collar armor and the connection lines slammed down into the implants with multiple clicks, the circular lights glowing purple.

He stiffened as the suit came 'online' as it connected to the Psionosphere through him. It was a very odd sensation. It was if he could feel the power, but instead of it being right in his grasp, it was going somewhere else. It was still possible to manipulate the Psionosphere – it was easier in fact – but still very odd.

"I've thought about trying that," Gabriella Otto commented, marching towards him in her Titan armor. Her wicked-looking machete was hanging loosely off her waist and helmet was tucked under her arm. Her glittering ice-blue eyes seemed amused as she looked down at him "Just looks a bit weaker."

"Compared to Titan armor, everything is weak," Kunio shrugged, reaching for his helmet. "But it's strong. It can create psionic barriers in a pinch too. You're a psion, right?"

"Yeah, but not a powerful one," she confirmed, lifting a hand and the helmet floated in the air before she grabbed it again. "Telekine. Good enough to unbalance some enemies or take their weapons, but not quite on the level of throwing around armies."

"I don't think those are the only two extremes," Kunio said dryly. "Telekinesis is useful for a Templar though."

"That it is," she gave a dangerous grin. "Don't know what we'll find in Revelean's lab, but probably a lot of aliens who will need to die." She looked to another nearby soldier reaching for her weapon. "Don't take all the kills for yourself Martha."

"Look, I know I got the Gamma weapon," the armored woman rolled her eyes. "But seriously, this thing can't be used willy-nilly. A couple seconds and anything alive goes poof. I doubt I'm going to be using it as much as this one." She gestured to the plasma rifle also hooked onto her back. "I'll happily kill every alien there, but I'm not going to use this thing unless Carmelita wants me too."

"That's correct," they all stood at attention as an armored Carmelita walked to them. Kunio was immediately struck by her helmet, which definitely wasn't standard Titan armor, and had a bright yellow smiley face painted on it. However, he didn't feel the least amused; she had a presence about her which…dissuaded that kind of reaction. Carmelita patted Martha once on the shoulder. "Good woman. Once all of you are ready, we move out."

Kunio thought that was going to be it, as the soldiers began gathering their weapons and putting their helmet on. Instead he kept a straight face as Carmelita came up to him. Despite her smaller stature, both her expression and Titan armor made her appear much more imposing. "Kunio, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Overseer,"

"Yes, Overseer."

"This is your first mission?"

He nodded. "Yes, Overseer."

"Trial by fire," she acknowledged. "Still, I know this isn't your first combat mission. Stick to the squad, follow my orders, and do your part, and we'll all come back. No unnecessary teleporting either. If I want you to try something like that, I'll say so. I don't want you vanishing to another room without me knowing."

"I don't think that will be an issue, Overseer," Kunio said ruefully. "I'm not quite Fiona yet."

"All the more reason to follow orders and do your job," she said, walking towards the meeting point, clearly intending for him to follow. "Your weapons are useful for high-damage output, so you'll be in the back lines. The Jaegers, myself, and Jaxon will be on the front lines since we can take the most direct fire. You, Fatima, Kente, Madden, and Pinero will handle whatever we miss."

"Understood, Overseer,"

They walked for a while as the other off-duty soldiers and XCOM support staff looked onward, seeming to realize a mission was happening. "You've done missions like this before, I assume?" He asked. "I mean…you've been here since the beginning."

"Some, yes," she said curtly. "I've…yeah, I've been here since the start. Sometimes I'm surprised I was the one to make it when everyone else is dead…or worse." Her lips pursed at the last statement, a flash of anger in her eyes.

"Did you know her well?" He risked asking. "Patricia?"

"Not especially," she shrugged. "We went on ops together. But we were comrades, not necessarily friends. But I trusted her. I never would have thought she'd…" she shook her head. "It's not important, Kunio. Time to focus on the mission. Go in, cause some damage, get Caelior, and get out."

"Roger," he confirmed, flipping the helmet in his hands and putting it on. They walked into the room which normally would have been for soldiers to access the Dreamscape, but was now just for the armed squads. Everyone was armored, armed, and ready for the mission. Aegis stood in his rarely used battle armor and the Jaegers even stood over the Titan-armored soldiers.

It was a very intimidating entourage, overall.

Fiona stepped forward, clad in her own armor. "We all know the mission, so I won't repeat it. I can't say what we're going to find when we get there, so weapons hot. We may be facing hostiles immediately. Everyone clear on your objectives?"

There was a chorus of affirmations, and she nodded, putting her own helmet on. The soldiers readied their weapons and Kunio hooked his psionic rifle into his armor and ensured it was powered on. "Get ready then," she said, lifting a hand as the blue-green energy began enveloping her. "This will happen very fast."

---

Revelean's Lab – Earth

5/15/2017 – 3:29 P.M.

They appeared in the room with a flash.

It was in the shape of a square and appeared to be a centralized part of the corridors, with doors leading in four different directions. The walls were a sterile white and similar lights shone onto a glossy floor. There was nothing set up or standing in the room, but there were turrets hanging from the ceiling, each slightly before each of the doors.

The soldiers reacted instantly.

Kunio lifted his rifle to the nearest turret as it came online. "Taking left turret!" He yelled as he fired, with other soldiers calling out their own shots, as he felt a slight psionic drain as the rifle turned the turret to scrap after a barrage of purple bolts slammed into it. Carmelita's alloy cannon shredded the next one with a sparking pop, while another was severed by a psionic barrier Aegis manifested and the last one was taken out by Zoe and Pinero combining their fire.

"No time to waste," Geist said as quiet settled upon them, walking to the nearest control panel with Sabrina close behind. "Can you install JULIAN from here?"

"I should be able to. Give me a second," she answered, breaking out her kit.

Geist hooked his Gravity Gun on his belt and looked towards Aegis. "Can you sense his mind?"

"No…" Aegis trailed off. "There is something else here…another powerful mind. Almost Ethereal in a way, but distinctly not. There are some places which I cannot sense, it is possible they are using Sovereign Orbs to prevent telepathic contact."

The frown was in Geist's face. "An Ethereal-esque mind, but not Revelean. I can sense it too. It seems…idle."

"I've not felt something like it," Aegis said slowly. "We should proceed with caution. Fatima, be careful of this entity. It may come after you."

"I'll be ready," Fatima nodded. "We only need to distract it. You get him out, and we do our job."

"We'll start moving in the direction of the dead zone," Fiona said, glancing to Sabrina who was hooked into the system and trying to get deeper.

"We'll get their attention," Carmelita stated, hoisting her alloy cannon and moving to the opposite door while making a formation gesture with her free hand. "Form up squad and move out!"

Monsoon Squad formed in front of Carmelita as she gave a short wave to Aegis and Geist. "Good luck. Don't take too long."

The door was unlocked and the thick steel door slid open and exposed a fairly long corridor. This facility could easily be underground, as there were no windows Kunio could see. "Weapons ready," Carmelita advised as they advanced at a brisk, but wary pace. "Turrets could-"

On cue a dozen turrets suddenly fell from previously hidden compartments in the ceiling along the entire corridor. Gas also began spewing from vents. Only it wasn't gas, but streams of nanites falling from the ceiling. "Back!" Jaxon yelled, the MELD Operator stepping forward as his own nanites flowed off him. "Aim for the sources!"

It was a surreal sight to see the black mass congeal on the ground, like a ravenous insect swarm. Kunio quickly fired at one of the dispensers, and watched it turn to slag quickly, though it only seemed to slow the flow of nanites, not stop it. The Jaegers were firing streams of flame against the black masses.

The turrets were still there, and Zoe and Pinero were focusing on them, eliminating the ones nearby in record time, as Jaxon formed a 'ring' of controlled nanites which would buy time for them to plug the holes…although for all Kunio knew there were endless amounts. Hopefully there was a finite amount.

"Do we move forward?" Kunio yelled, firing at another dispenser.

"Hold for now!" Carmelita yelled back. "Jaxon! Can you handle them."

"Working on it," the Operator stated, hyperfocused on holding off the swarms. "They will not break through."

Then to make matters worse at the opposite end the door slid open, revealing three Custodians entering followed by an unknown number of Mutons and Vitakara – though not typical ones. The Mutons were in a deep blue armor, painted in a pattern he hadn't seen before. The Vitakara appeared to be Borelians of some kind with white fur. It still wasn't clear how many there were, but there were a lot of them coming into the narrow corridor.

The Custodians were not typical either, but ones equipped with blast shields that acted as mobile cover while the aliens fired behind them. The squad, however, were completely exposed and still dealing with the nanites. It was going to get even worse, very fast if something wasn't done now. The aliens were already raising their rifles and he made a decision.

"Get behind me!" Kunio yelled, pushing past Carmelita and hooking the rifle on his waist as he stepped parallel to Jaxon and hastily established a wide portal in front of him, which didn't cover the whole area, but would provide some measure of protection from the onslaught of plasma fire.

He didn't even focus hard on an exit point. It was already taking enough concentration for a portal this big.

He gritted his teeth as the portal continued, the large size difficult to sustain mentally. He heard weapon fire, flamethrowers, and the buzz of nanite warfare, behind him, of allies and enemies alike, and he risked looking behind and saw the squad appeared to be successfully beating back the nanite swarms.

Once the last hostile nanite was gone, or at least appeared to be, Jaxon turned his attention back to the oncoming aliens and directed the nanites to begin constructing temporary barriers. "How long can you hold that?" Carmelita demanded, reloading her weapon as she dashed towards him.

"I've got it!" He shouted back.

Jaxon was continuing to construct barriers as the Jaegers had each transformed one of their arms into their own person shields with the other ones to gauss rifles, and were moving around the portal to directly engage. "Done," Jaxon said. "Lower the portal and get into cover!"

Kunio stumbled back as he collapsed the portal, and quickly fell behind the makeshift cover. Plasma and gauss fire began flying over his head in such heavy volumes he wasn't sure if he should risk poking his head up. Instead he peeked around the corner and saw that the Custodians had stopped a short distance from their own barriers.

"Kunio! Grenade!" Carmelita ordered as she fired her weapon from behind cover.

He pulled out the psionic grenade, set it for a medium radius, and chucked it towards the alien lines. Unfortunately, one of the Mutons just swatted it back in front of the Custodian barriers. Fortunately, he'd used a psionic grenade since a plasma one would have probably been absorbed – which the Muton had likely presumed.

Shields wouldn't protect against a psionic grenade.

Instead the grenade went off as a sphere of purple energy materialized and shredded the delicate internal systems of the Custodians, and turned the first line of alien attackers into bloody pieces of meat. The lines exposed, the remaining aliens started backing up, firing as they retreated, though now there was nothing protecting them.

The Jaegers and Carmelita led the charge forward, now more easily picking off the retreating aliens. More of the Mutons fell, though enough made it back to the corridor entrance to regroup. As the corridor door closed and locked, a brief silence fell upon the squad. "Status?" Carmelita demanded of everyone as they rechecked and reloaded their weapons.

"Got hit a few times, but pretty good otherwise," Alter Pinero said, his armor displaying the scorch marks.

"Nanite reserves are lowered after that," Jaxon said. "We need to find some material."

"Will the corpses do?" Martha nodded.

"It's a start," Jaxon began the process of harvesting the remains, as Kunio joined others in giving a positive status update, although all of those wearing Titan armor also noted their nanite reserves were lower. So far it seemed only superficial damage had been inflicted, which was a good outcome considering the hectic start. "Those weren't standard Mutons," Jaxon said, kneeling down by one of the more intact corpses before the nanites ate it away. "Nor Custodians either."

"Probably Revelean's personal stock," Carmelita struggled, moving towards the panel which controlled the door. "Didn't seem much different to me."

"It knocked my grenade back," Kunio pointed out. "That's already faster and smarter than Mutons should be capable of."

"Right," Carmelita looked to Fatima. "Can you control them?"

"I tried," Fatima admitted. "But it didn't do anything. Their brains are…not what I am used to. Alien to even other Mutons. At first I thought it was some programming they were given that detects and overrides psionic commands."

"Revelean's own Manchurian Restraints," Carmelita said grimly. "But you don't think that's what it was?"

"No, there was something else…like it was puppeting them. Very subtle, very refined. I've only seen someone like Patricia exercise that kind of control. I think it might be whatever the mind is that's here…" Fatima put a hand on the door, tilting her head. "There was a theme running through their minds, music of some kind…" she stiffened and stumbled back. "It's noticed me, it's noticed us."

"What did you do?" Carmelita demanded.

"I tried probing it," Fatima took a sharp breath as her voice became more panicked. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, it's connected to the Bringer."

All of them looked to her as she said that. Oh no.

"What?" Carmelita demanded. "Are you sure?"

"You don't forget what their minds feel like," Fatima emphasized, hugging herself. "I wasn't sure at first, but every Bringer-touched mind has this quality to it. This one is…worryingly powerful. I don't know what it is, but it's not something we've fought before. We'll need to figure out something."

"Is it intelligent?" Athena asked. "A soldier or something like…what do they call their creatures?"

"It doesn't feel like a Caretaker, or a normal mind," Fatima shook her head. "But it's intelligent. It's curious. It's focused on us now, it wants us to come forward. It wants to see what we'll do, I want you to come and see me…"

"Fatima!" Carmelita smacked the psions' helmet. "Focus!"

"Ah!" Fatima gasped. "Fuck it almost got through. I can't talk. It's still watching us."

"We weren't expecting a Bringer soldier here," Martha muttered. "What are we doing now?"

"Keep going," Carmelita said, the scowl clear in her voice. "We're doing our job. Fatima, you move to the back and keep that thing off us. Pinero, you watch her and smack her if she does anything funny. That thing is now focused on us. Let's keep it like that."

"Is the telepath going to attack?" Kunio asked Fatima.

"I don't think so for now," Fatima shook her head, shuddering. "Right now it seems more curious that hostile. Please stop asking questions. I need to focus." Pinero put a hand on the psions shoulder and led her away, the psion's fists clenched at her sides.

"So, problem," Martha said. "None of us are telepaths."

"Kunio has Aurora, that gives him protection," Carmelita said clinically as she looked towards the door. "The MECs can resist more easily. The rest of us have Manchurian Restraints. We can't be turned against each other."

"Yeah, but that doesn't protect us," Martha said. "Or stop the thing from just telling our minds to die."

"The Restraints prevent that from happening," Carmelita said. "Worst case we get paralyzed. We're not going back. We're going to do our job."

"Yes, Overseer. Just making sure we knew that."

The light above the door suddenly flipped to green.

All of them raised their weapons. "That's bait if I ever saw it," Zoe muttered. "It's definitely a trap."

"No question," Carmelita looked to Martha. "Bring out your gun, clear the room."

"With pleasure, all of you stand way back," Martha unhooked her massive Gamma Cannon and readied it. "I'll probably have to fire this longer than normal since the door is in the way. But by the time I'm done, there shouldn't be much left of whatever's inside."

"Fire at will," Carmelita nodded.

Martha aimed the weapon at the presumed far side of the room and fired. The air before the gun became extremely distorted, and the loud hum of the weapon roared as she slowly swept her gun from one side to the other before shutting it off and lowering it.

"I think we're good," she said, placing it back and drawing her plasma rifle. "Might have missed one or two."

"Line up," Carmelita said as the two Jaegers took point, with her and Jaxon flanking them, and the rest of them behind. The door hissed open and the sight of absolute carnage greeted them. This appeared to be a storeroom of some kind; with cabinets, jars and capsules of fluid in cold storage, and boxes of unknown materials.

It was also currently decorated with the blood and liquified remains of numerous Mutons. Pieces of armor lay scattered, drenched in the fluids and there was so much there were numerous puddles in the relatively small storeroom.

"Well then," Kunio said, considering lightly pushing on one of the Muton breastplate with his boot, though thought better of it after remembering that it might be literally cancerous. "I think it worked."

"Monsoon Squad, this is your friendly artificial intelligence contacting you," the glib voice of JULIAN interjected. "I have been successfully uploaded into the system, though am currently under siege by a rather persistent digital defense system – surprisingly sophisticated for a primitive intelligence. Caelior has been located and Hurricane Squad is moving to secure him now. As it stands your actions have provoked significant reaction."

"Good," Carmelita said. "Did you know there's a Bringer telepath here?"

"Is that right?" JULIAN didn't sound overly concerned at the revelation. "That would explain the mind. Aegis will want to hear it, but I trust you can handle one of the Bringer's minions. I would also prepare for an attack. I have successfully redirected several containment teams towards your last known location."

"Thanks, JULIAN," Carmelita sighed. "Tell them to hurry up."

"I will convey," JULIAN said. "And I will do my best to delay them further. If you were to keep moving, it would also slow them down. Now I must go."

The line ended. Carmelita looked to Fatima. "You ready?"

"Yes," she said, though there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice. "But…it's talking to me now. If I do something…please shoot me. I don't want to end up like one of those things."

"That isn't going to happen," Carmelita said firmly. "This is something you can beat. We are all here with you and we're all going to leave alive. Come on, let's move out."

---

Revelean's Lab – Earth

5/15/2017 – 4:17 P.M.

"That's a bit big for a Berserker," Martha said slowly as they entered a new room.

This one appeared to be a dedicated research lab of some kind. There were holding cells, experimentation tables, and holotables scattered throughout it. There were also scientists and workers still at their stations, who all turned in unison at the unexpected guests. They were all Vitakarians, but with pale skin and seemed clone-like in appearance.

In the back, almost as a silent guard were three massive Berserkers. But these ones were absurdly beyond even what he'd expected to see in person. They were taller than the Battlemaster, had skin colored a sickly shade of green, and were equipped with some kind of pack on their backs which had tubes connecting to various ports on their arms.

Their arms were also outfitted with mechanical augmentations. One seemed to have crushers, while the other two had single-edged blades on them.

"We should have cleared the room first," Carmelita muttered. "Open fire!"

The scientists instead of running, all pulled out pistols and began firing white plasma bolts their direction while the Berserkers were woken up, and upon seeing the XCOM soldiers, roared and charged. "Kunio, do you have one!" Carmelita asked as she began running to distract one, while firing.

Kunio looked to the charging monster. "Um, yes!"

Please don't fail me now.

Vitakara scientists were being charged and hunted down by XCOM soldiers, willing to take the plasma hits to return fire at close range. Carmelita let loose a sharp laugh as she blasted apart a scientist at point blank range, taking his entire torso. Athena lifted another scientist off the ground with mechanical swiftness and ripped her head off.

Easu, the other Jaeger was taking on the other charging Berserker which was rampaging through the holotables. It's skin was durable, as it was taking direct barrages, and not slowing down at all. Right now Kunio really wished they had a telekine, but they'd have to make do. His Berserker was charging and roaring, and he gathered the power and prepared to open a portal.

Now.

He opened his fist and lifted his other hand as both connecting portals were created, one on the floor which the Berserker predictably fell into. Like a child in a pool, it immediately tried to struggle its way out, but he severed the portal before it could get out, and the bottom half fell from the ceiling and hit the head of the dying alien.

The Berserker still didn't give up, trying to drag itself to him, spewing blood and organs from it's severed midsection. Kunio lowered his rifle and fired a barrage of psionic rounds into the head, and didn't stop until it stopped moving and there was no more head, but a pulpy mass of yellow and green flesh.

Looking up, he saw that both Jaegers were tag-teaming the other Berserker which was suffering from dozens of scrapes and wounds. Carmelita's Berserker was dead on the ground, with copious amounts of shrapnel in it. She must have just killed it, as she leapt an inhuman distance to land before the remaining Berserker.

Both of it's arms restrained by the Jaegers, it roared furiously at Carmelita who responded by shoving the barrel of the alloy cannon into its mouth and pulling the trigger.

That put it on the ground quickly.

"Wow." Was all Zoe said after seeing that, as Carmelita ripped off a chunk of one of the scientist coats and wiped the blood and gore off of her cannon. "Good shot."

"I've had some practice," she said. "Berserkers are mindless beasts. Predictable. Even these ones it seems."

"Think we're going to get more?" Athena glanced to the exit. "Their attacks haven't been too bad, thankfully."

"Likely, but we keep moving," Carmelita said, shooting a glance to the tense and silent Fatima who was keeping to the back, and still watched by Pinero. She didn't ask, but Kunio knew Carmelita was concerned about the psion. So was he. Fatima was not one to buckle like this.

It must be really bad.

They entered into another corridor with plenty of rooms off to the sides to explore. It really was a labyrinth that didn't seem to end. Hopefully Fiona could find them easily enough when it was done.

That was when they heard it.

Music.

And singing.

They all paused as the sound permeated the silent corridor. It was a deep voice, singing in a language that sounded familiar for some reason. Kunio could swear there was something familiar about it, but the voice was rich, melodic, and reached highs and lows that didn't seem possible.

"Wait a minute…" Zoe cocked her head. "Is that opera?"

"Yes," Fatima said quietly. "One of his favorites. He likes to sing."

"Wonderful," Carmelita grunted. "Probably a Weaver then."

They continued walking down, and the voice got louder. Kunio realized that there was a tangible intensity to the song as they walked. It had started out fairly innocuous, or normal in a way (as much as opera could be – he was unfamiliar with the genre), but the tone had grown sadder.

It reminded him of the worst times of his life. When he mourned the deaths of his friends in war. When he'd seen Japan fall, twice. When he'd seen the butchery in Beijing. A sad helplessness that overcame him as he realized there was so little he was capable of doing.

But it does not have to be that way.

You could be something so much more.

Part of a plan much grander.

Get out of my head!

Kunio jolted himself out of the stupor he'd been lulled into by the creature which had somehow subverted his own defenses. That shook him. Something that subtle should not be possible, at least not to something which wasn't an Ethereal. What was this thing. Then he realized the voice was not the only one singing.

"Hold," Carmelita ordered, lifting a hand as she turned to Fatima who seemed to be in a trance, the words she was singing in perfect sync with the voice, and tuned almost to compliment it. "Psion Tariq," she said slowly. "Take off your helmet."

She didn't, and just kept singing.

She didn't make any threatening gestures, she just stood there, still; listless.

Pinero moved up behind her and she lifted a hand, psionic power rippling as Pinero was paralyzed as the Manchurian Restraints kicked in. "Codeword: Hodophobia," Carmelita said without hesitation. "Initiate shutdown for sixteen hours."

On cue Fatima crumpled to the ground, and Pinero was similarly freed. Carmelita knelt down beside the unconscious psion. "What did you do?" Zoe asked incredulously.

"I used her codeword," Carmelita said, taking off Fatima's helmet to make sure she was unconscious. "First time I've had to do that actually. Either that, or we'd have killed her or she would have killed us. This is safer."

"I'll carry her," Athena said, lumbering over and slinging the psion over her shoulder. "But I think we should head back. This is too dangerous to keep going. We're already screwed without a telepath and if it got into her mind, it knows we're a distraction. I'm all for suicide missions, but this is dying for the sake of dying."

Carmelita thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. We start moving away. They've had a lot of time as it is."

Kunio couldn't help but feel relieved as they moved in the opposite direction, although instead of the singing fading, it instead was only growing louder and the tone was changing. It held a fiery intensity; a war-like anger that he could feel in the words despite the foreign language.

They reached the door back into the lab where the Berserkers had been, and the thing was waiting for them.

The first thing that struck Kunio was that it looked like it was in the shape of a brain – if that brain had been designed to be the size of a forklift, with a sickly skin-colored outer shell around it, hiding the ridges. It didn't help that there were six magenta eyes that were grated onto the front, arranged in a shape he felt he'd seen before.

If only that was the weirdest thing about it.

Two long, gangly arms hung from the 'body' which hung suspected in the air. Although they were less 'arms' and more 'tendrils which had hands at the end'. The most disturbing thing was the mouth which was grafted to the lower body, an unnatural organ that did look exactly like a disembodied mouth.

A deep and pervasive shudder ran down Kunio's spine as he beheld the unholy monstrosity. He'd done his research, and had seen some of the creatures the Bringer employed, and what it was capable of, but this was something so perversely unnatural that he struggled to realize that it was well and truly alive.

Yet it was. He couldn't deny reality before him.

Still, there was one thing certain:

This thing should not exist.

The hands spread wide, as if the thing was greeting them.

It had not stopped singing either, and the tempo had changed to a faster pace.

Carmelita made a snap decision. "Retreat!" She called, and they all started running in the opposite direction, with some firing in the direction of the creature. Without moving it either blocked, deflected or otherwise avoided the attacks. Then with the idleness of a toying predator, it followed them.

A hand reached out, and the Jaegers were suddenly slowed as telekinetic leashes wrapped around their suits. They wasted no time and turned to fire at the creature, though their weapons crumpled and warped. The legs of the MEC snapped and twisted, but neither cried out in pain, though visibly resisted the telekinetic power.

Zoe and Pinero turned and fire, though it directed its focus to them, and after a few seconds, they stopped and started screaming in pain as something happened that he couldn't see. In desperation he threw his remaining psionic grenade towards the creature, and to his dismay it landed in a micro-portal and vanished, never to be seen again.

Oh no, this thing can teleport.

Jaxon was directing his nanites, but with a wave of the hand he was engulfed in a torrent of psionic power so strong that it only left embers behind. Martha was reaching for her Gamma rifle, but instead it was telekinetically ripped out of her hands, and almost childishly taunted with it being held just out of reach.

Kunio fired, but it seemed to do almost nothing as a barrier appeared before the bolts could hit. Looking around he saw that Zoe and Pinero had literally been melted; it seemed to thankfully have been fast, but crumpled power armor leaking a disgusting fluid was all that remained of them.

Just what was this thing?

The Gamma rifle taunting Martha suddenly self-destructed, a precaution Kunio was very thankful for because he did not want that thing falling into Collective hands. The warped pieces useless, Martha wasn't spared from the onslaught as the pieces of the Gamma rifle were thrown into her, and her neck performed a sharp one-eighty turn, killing her instantly.

The unconscious body of Fatima was freed from the grasp of Athena, and floated towards the creature who cradled her body almost tenderly, taking off the helmet and caressing the face with the grotesque fingers, an almost tender display for something so monstrous. Carmelita leapt into the air, trying to get a flanking shot, but she twisted in the air and was slammed into the far wall.

He was the last one standing.

Carmelita might still be alive, but that was it. The Jaegers weren't moving. Everyone else was vaporized or sludge. He needed to get out of here now. But he also saw Fatima, and how the creature seemed focused on her. She was a psion of XCOM. She knew things. Valuable things. Manchurian restraints or not, this thing had gotten into her head, and it could do it again.

If I do something…please shoot me. I don't want to end up like one of those things.

Heart in his throat, Kunio lifted his rifle and paused. If he shot it, the creature would just block it. But he might have another solution. He pulled out the Thought Bomb and set it to kill. It wouldn't kill the creature…but Fatima had no defenses, and he had to hope the creature wasn't protecting her.

He would be protected since his suit strengthened his mind, so he increased the radius to where he could activate it and it would reach her. With his thumb he pressed the trigger, praying that he was right and wouldn't kill himself like this. The delay passed, and he was still alive.

Fatima suddenly went still.

The singing stopped, and the creature caressed the body, seemingly confused.

He had seconds to escape on his own, and first opened a portal that landed him on the other side of the room next to an injured, but fortunately alive Carmelita. She was badly hurt, and he realized a problem – he definitely couldn't carry her in her armor. "Hey," he told her quietly, knowing the creature was going to turn to him in moments. "Sorry about this, but one of us needs to live."

He closed his eyes, concentrated, and opened a portal, and then opened another one under Carmelita. Once she fell through, he was forced to collapse it. He'd never tried one that long, and he could only hope she'd made it safely. Eyes watering from exhaustion, he was vaguely aware of the creature floating towards him, the ferocity palpable.

He gritted his teeth and lifted his rifle.

There was a flash behind him, a hand was placed on his shoulder and he was suddenly back in the deployment room he'd been in hours before.

Almost frozen in shock, he didn't immediately put down his rifle. "Hey, it's alright, you're safe," Fiona said, taking her helmet off. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, we ran into complications."

"So did we," he said tonelessly, taking his own helmet off. "Did you get him out?"

Please. Don't let this be for nothing.

"Yes," she nodded. "We got him out. He's with us."

"Right, good," he shakily lowered his rifle, taking a breath as the adrenaline began fading. "I really hope he was worth it."

Fiona looked at him sympathetically. "Are you the only one?"

"I don't think so," he said. "Before you came, I teleported Carmelita away. She was badly hurt. If I did it right…she's probably somewhere in London."

"Why London?"

"The first place I teleported to," he shrugged. "I remember it."

"We'll pick her up," she said, then leaned in and gave him a hug. "I'm sorry so many people died, but I'm glad you're alive."

"At least it wasn't for nothing," he said, accepting the hug. "I hope he was worth it."

"He will be," she promised. "And he's going to want some payback."

---

To be continued in Chapter 60:

Godkiller