Wills of Steel, Hearts of Stone

The Praesidium, Office of the Commander – Classified Location

5/29/2017 – 6:00 A.M.

The air was tense.

All of the Internal Council were present, standing to the sides in front of the Commander's desk, while the Chronicler and Crevan were standing directly before where the Commander was sitting. The Commander's eyes were turned towards them, but unfocused, as his prosthetic hand rested on the desk while the other rested on his chair's armrest.

It was a rare situation where he wasn't completely sure what the best approach was.

There were many things to process. Normally the fact that the Imperator had stepped foot on Earth would be occupying every immediate discussion. Perhaps how Patricia had targeted one of the most populous cities in ADVENT and nearly succeeded, ignoring all conventional plans and wisdom.

But there was something that deserved more focus. Something which he had genuinely not seen coming. He let the silence linger a few moments longer before looking to the Chronicler and asked a single question in an intentionally calm voice. "Would you care to explain what you've been hiding from us?"

The Chronicler's voice was equally neutral. "I wouldn't phrase it like that."

"Oh?" The Commander lifted an eyebrow. "And just how would you phrase keeping this information from us?"

"As irrelevant information, Commander," the Chronicler pursed his lips. "This was not something we expected to happen. There was no reason for you to know, and the more who are aware, the more danger this world is in."

The Commander knew Zhang was going to speak; he could hear the whispers of a response but he cut him off, lifting a hand and whatever Zhang was going to say died. This was a conversation that he was going to fully control; no interjections or distractions. "And yet, you were wrong. More to the point, you lie." The Commander turned his gaze to Crevan. "You certainly expected this to happen at some point. You knew exactly what was coming, and made us act because if we didn't, then something would happen. What that is I am still unsure of, but I lost a couple of good soldiers – which is not counting the thousands who died from the snowstorm - and you are going to tell me exactly why they died."

"To ensure Fiona was not taken," Crevan answered. "Any sacrifice was not in vain."

"She is one woman," the Commander retorted. "Do not avoid the lie. You kept this from us not because it wasn't a possibility, but because you decided we did not need to know."

"You didn't."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "The corpses say otherwise. More to the point, this is our world," a clear note of warning crept into his voice. "Not yours. Not T'Leth's. And if there is something that threatens it – or which could threaten it – we better know. If we had known then perhaps we could have made plans; contingencies, instead of sending in soldiers blind."

"Again," the Chronicler said calmly. "We did not expect this."

"I don't care what you expected," the Commander emphasized. "It happened. And whatever it was, it was dangerous enough to force the Imperator's direct hand. So I suggest you explain exactly what happened, and if you are keeping anything else that we need to know, share it now."

It was not phrased as a request, but in practice, the Agents of T'Leth didn't need to share anything. They could state that XCOM needed them, and that was it. It was something which could happen, but the Commander doubted they would be that unreasonable. They very likely believed that whatever had happened was so minor or unlikely that they didn't have to share it. But now they had no excuse, and if they still gave unsatisfactory answers then…

Something would have to be done.

He sincerely hoped it would not come to that.

He motioned to the Chronicler. "Well? Let's start with something simple. Who were they?"

"They go by many names in many languages," Crevan answered instead, eyes steely. "The most common translation is the 'Riders.' They are in effect a…task force that watches over…spheres. They are composed of thousands of alien species, all specially recruited and trained. You would have heard of almost none of them, but they are not a homogenous force."

He knew Vahlen was already bursting with questions, but he kept his expression clear. "Spheres?"

Crevan scowled. "Their term, and not a fully descriptive one I believe. It is the closest translation. Some would more narrowly define them as universes, but others would say they move between dimensions. I do not know if either is correct – research on the topic is heavily controlled. The number of individuals who know the truth of what the Riders oversee is limited to the Throne World, and the Generals who command them."

"And why are they overseeing these…spheres?"

Crevan rubbed his chin. "To make sure no one can enter the Throne World through them."

"Elaborate."

"What they discovered indicates that they may not be the only ones who are capable of learning of the spheres," Crevan explained. "The most obvious solution is making sure that no other species or sphere can learn what they have. Each different sphere is named after the most notable element of it. Unsurprisingly, this is the Sphere of the Sovereign."

He indicated the Chronicler. "The Sovereign Ones are an existential threat to the Throne World. Psionics do not…necessarily work the same there, but if a Sovereign One managed to learn the secrets of the Riders, then not just the Throne World, but thousands of other Spheres would be at risk."

"And yet, here you are," the Commander finished. "Working with a Sovereign One. You're not Human, are you?"

Crevan furrowed his brow. "In short, no. That is not important. We are not here of our own volition."

"By 'we' you mean…?"

"Myself, ir Nara, and Fiona."

"All of you are not Human?"

"Fiona is Human," Crevan corrected, though paused briefly. "…Largely. She is…capable of moving between the Spheres to a degree that not even the Riders can manage. She is the result of a genetically groomed bloodline for this specific purpose. What she does cannot be replicated artificially, despite the best efforts of the Throne World, and out of their control, she is a threat."

He looked to the Chronicler and exchanged unspoken words. "I have…disagreements with many on the Throne World. Enough to help the young Fiona leave. I knew they would chase us, but her skills would allow us to stay ahead. We underestimated them, and they began anticipating our movements. They have augmented themselves with technology from many Spheres, and were more advanced than we were. Soon they were awaiting us. We were almost captured multiple times."

He paused. "By some degree of luck, we arrived in this Sphere, and encountered the Chronicler by pure accident. Against my better judgement, Fiona explained what was happening. T'Leth agreed to serve as a deterrent to force them to stop hunting us. In return, we assist his agenda."

The Commander raised an eyebrow, looking to the Chronicler. He suspected there was more to that story, but that was for another time. Instead he cut to the heart of the matter. "And he wanted to know how to move between the Spheres?"

"No," the Chronicler said. "They are unaware of the specifics of how this phenomenon works, and regardless, if it were unlocked, is a secret which would spread the pointless cycles elsewhere, which is…undesirable. What he does not approve of is outside forces meddling in our galaxy, or universe, or whatever they define it as."

"How fortuitous he thinks like that," the Commander noted dryly. "I'm sure that has nothing to do with his inability to decode this skill."

"If T'Leth wanted to, he could have forced Fiona to move him to the Throne World," the Chronicler answered in a low voice. "There are many Sovereigns who would do anything for this knowledge. The Throne World – fanatical and dangerous as they are, understands that the Sovereign Ones learning these secrets would doom the many worlds which have no protection. T'Leth has no interest in facilitating that."

"Unfortunately, they will continue to exploit opportunities as they arise," Crevan said sourly. "We believed we had reached something of an understanding once they realized we were under T'Leth's protection, but they saw Fiona as vulnerable, and acted. Which means they have eyes and ears on Earth, and thousands more in the Sphere at minimum. They may move to quarantine it."

"Which means?"

"That they assume covert control of the Sphere," Crevan explained, fixing the Commander with a hard stare. "They find and recruit aliens of the Sphere into the Riders and maneuver them into positions of influence. More direct agents are inserted; modified to blend in. Every aspect of the sphere is managed by the Riders, and by extension the Throne World. It is an operation lasting hundreds or thousands of years. You operate within the constraints of time; they do not."

This was sounding like a larger threat the longer the alien talked. Or at least a more direct one. Though there was a certain problem with the proposed approach. "Considering the nature of cycles and Sovereign Ones, this does not sound poised for success."

Crevan unexpectedly smiled. "The Sovereign Ones are not as intelligent as they think they are. I assure you that they are capable of handling the Sovereign Ones. And if they fail, then you will see a conquest of your galaxy the likes of which you cannot comprehend. Be thankful that the Throne World has a preference against intervention and total war."

"How fortunate," the Commander said sarcastically. "They must know that we know them now. I would prefer these aliens to not meddle in our affairs, and it sounds like the largest reason they are is because of you and Fiona. Is there no compromise?"

Crevan shook his head. "The Throne World does not negotiate."

"You said they prefer non-intervention," the Commander pointed out. "And it sounds like this is not something that happens often. Others learning of these…spheres."

"It doesn't happen often."

"So there is precedent," the Commander nodded. "And what usually happens?"

"They join the Riders," Crevan answered. "Or act as agents to the Throne World."

"Which isn't acceptable here," the Commander said. "Then I suppose that if there is no precedent, then we will have to set it. There are enough threats without a reality-hopping alien army becoming one of them. Fortunately, they sound reasonable enough."

Crevan's eyes widened. "Reasonable? You cannot be serious. They have been hunting us for years!"

"Yes, because you – or Fiona rather – are a security risk," the Commander answered flatly. "Based on what you have told me, I would be doing the exact same thing if I were them. I do not know why she decided to leave, nor your own disagreements, but I must act in the best interests of my species – not you." He lifted a hand. "And don't worry, I have no intention of turning either of you over. But what I am interested in is not making another enemy. I want you to contact the Throne World and say that I want to negotiate with them."

"Impossible." Crevan shook his head.

"I'm not certain that is the best approach…" the Chronicler said slowly.

"I don't especially care if you approve or not," the Commander continued. "Like it or not, Machas – assuming that is your real name - this is your fault, and if they attacked once, they will do so again when they see an opportunity. I do not want that to happen. I am not going to let Earth and Humanity be caught in a dispute which we have no stake in. The Sovereigns may come into inevitable conflict with us; this is not the case with this Throne World. If you do not have a way, make one, or next time when they come we will not intervene."

"Absolutely not," Crevan shook his head. "And what will you do, Commander?"

"Exactly what I said I would," the Commander said coolly. "If I am not mistaken, your very presence risks, and I quote, 'a conquest the likes of which you cannot comprehend'. Perhaps I would prefer to avoid that entirely. If the Throne World were to leave us alone, that is desirable, no? I dislike making sacrifices, but if allowing the Throne World to capture one women prevents the infiltration and meddling in my species, much less any others, then that is a sacrifice I will make each and every time. T'Leth has the luxury of being immune to such concerns. Humanity does not."

Crevan looked to the Chronicler. "Our agreement cannot be voided over this."

"I said XCOM will not intervene," the Commander reminded him. "I have no say over your agreement with T'Leth."

"And this is unacceptable," Crevan said. "You do not understand what you are asking."

"And you do not understand what risk you now pose," the Commander retorted, lacing his fingers together. "I do not expect you to understand, since you are not Human and your species appears to be in no danger. Your situation is unfortunate, but I will prioritize what must be done. I suggest you work this out with T'Leth, but I have made my requirements clear."

"Or you will not assist if they return?"

"Or you will be expelled from the Praesidium and I will go to the Chancellor and tell her everything you just told me," the Commander said slowly. "And she will tell her staff and advisors. I can assure you Saudia will not be in favor of letting you remain rogue, and I am inclined to not stop her. You will have no place to go outside of where T'Leth will hide you. Perhaps when the Throne World learns, they will approach ADVENT properly, and should they seek to also capture you, we have no control over what they do."

A thin smile appeared on his face. "I do not care if you stay, or move on to another sphere. I only care that the threat of this Throne World is mitigated. I would prefer not to take these steps, but I do not have the luxury of pretending this threat no longer exists. You know what to do." He rested his hands on the table. "Dismissed. I have made my point, and I expect to not have a repeat of this conversation again."

A clearly furious Crevan sharply turned on his heel. "Chronicler! We need to talk." The Agent of T'Leth seemed almost impressed with how the conversation had gone, shooting a short nod towards the Commander before following him out. Good. That meant T'Leth would force something to happen, and no support would be lost over this ultimatum.

"Well then," Vahlen said. "That was…enlightening."

"To put it lightly," Kong shook his head. "The implications are…"

"Staggering," Vahlen finished.

"ADVENT is going to want an answer," Jackson said, scribbling something down. "If Crevan cooperates, what exactly are we going to tell them?"

"That we don't know for sure," the Commander said. "That we believe it is Sovereign-based. Crevan is right that the fewer people who know of this, the better. What was discussed here does not go beyond this room. This applies to you as well, JULIAN."

"Yes, Commander."

No snark or sarcastic comment. Even JULIAN knew how serious this was. The Commander sighed, and rubbed his head. "Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing we need to discuss. The Imperator came, and we need to decide how we respond."

Throne Room of the Imperator of the Ethereal Collective – Unknown Location

5/29/2017 – 1:12 A.M.

The Imperator sat upon his throne silently, as a very rare gathering of the Ethereal leadership took place. The Overmind, Quisilia, the Guardians, and Cogitian were here – all of whom the Battlemaster expected. The others such as Revelean and Fectorian were unlikely to provide much immediate input, and he suspected Sicarius would learn eventually. Deusian had no relevance yet.

For once, the Imperator had made a proper decision to involve Regisora, despite his reservations of the Sovereign One. But this was clearly an outside force that the Imperator did not seem to be aware of. Perhaps Mosrimor knew, and if so, there was much that needed to be learned.

What he did not approve of, though understood why the Imperator had summoned him, was a representative of Paradise. He thankfully hadn't allowed a Saint, or even one of the more advanced Children to come, but only a relatively weak Caretaker who presumably specialized in writing down knowledge of the Bringer.

He was…unsettling in a way that one of his stature and limited power shouldn't be. Like many of the Caretakers, he resembled a robed dead man walking. His hands were shriveled, though didn't shake. He walked with some kind of limp. He was old, and had silver-grey hair and beard with eyes that bored into whoever they stared into.

They were not dead eyes though, but filled with many fiery emotions. He looked to the Battlemaster with utter hate, and did not bother to disguise it. It made him consider decapitating the Bringer puppet then and there, since whoever this individual was, they did not fully control themselves. But the Caretaker was more reserved before the other Ethereals.

He suspected the hate was due to his previous visits to Paradise – and open desire to burn the station to ash.

Inspirars was the name he was given. He had been personally transported from Paradise to the Temple Ship under the Praetorian Guard, and fortunately precautions had been taken to limit what he could remember and see. Quisilia had blinded him telepathically, and guided him forward.

His eyes were not required, only his mind and voice – and by extension, that of the Bringer.

Despite this, the Battlemaster was unsure of allowing such an individual here. This meeting should have been conducted somewhere…else. The Imperator had chosen the Temple Ship because it was under his inherent control – supposedly. That was not good enough when it came to the Bringer.

But it was done, and it was time to begin.

"Cogitian," the Imperator looked to the Archivist. "I do not suppose you are aware of any group or organization which matches the description of the soldiers encountered?"

"It is difficult to determine at this juncture," Cogitian said slowly. "I have only just begun searching through the vast libraries, though preliminary CODEX assisted association does not return anything concrete. We certainly did not encounter such a group in the Empire, nor were we aware of one."

"I can confirm that not once in my own operations did I hear about something like this," Quisilia added, flipping a blade in his hand. "There are a number of very unique and memorable factors about these…individuals. The cold, the portals, the armor, this would not have been forgotten – someone would have made a note somewhere."

"Unless they acted differently," the Battlemaster pointed out. "They were as advanced or more so than us and ADVENT. It would have taken effort, but against a less-advanced or prepared city, they could have succeeded."

"There would have been snow left behind," Cogitian dismissed. "And a city vanishing would leave some record, unless a civilization was simultaneously vanished."

"We assume that the snow is important," the Battlemaster said. "They may not require it at all."

"Perhaps," the Imperator spoke again. "But Patricia fought the Agent of T'Leth Lavallic ir Nara – and what she utilized was the same as this faction – and she wore the same armor. We did not recognize it at the time, but XCOM has a connection to this faction."

"A contentious one then," the Battlemaster grunted. "Which assumes XCOM was aware at all. Considering they were fighting them, I would question how much they knew."

"Indeed, more questions," the Imperator looked to Regisora. "Are they Sovereign?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "Unsure," she finally said. "Throughout the cycles there has been no major power who has used such armies. Yet there are…incidents. Flashpoints with no logical reason or motive behind them. Individuals vanish or cities are beset by blizzards. There are stories of skeletal warriors or men in black armor. Legends, mostly. Myths of old cultures. But they are never…witnessed."

A pause. "Until now, it seems. If there is a Sovereign behind them, they are very subtle and have an agenda that cannot be determined now."

"Allow me, Imperator," Inspirars lifted a hand. "I can answer your questions."

"Then speak," the Battlemaster demanded flatly.

"Patience, Battlemaster," he said with a cool disdain. "There is a story to be told. The ones who you refer to are known by a number of names. The Gestalt and Ascended call them Those Who Walk Beyond the Veil, others call them the Spectres, but they are believed to have been aliens born from the realm of the Aen Elle."

His eyes unfocused, he continued speaking. "Their agenda is unknown, and there is no Sovereign behind them. They are believed to exist beyond our reality, thus why they are seen as ghosts and specters. Beings who should not belong. They want to keep themselves shrouded in secrecy, and do not leave behind survivors to their interventions."

The Caretaker shook his head. "Archivist Cogitian is correct that there are many such references in legends and tales billions of years old. Primitive, but few trust the wisdom of the ancient texts; texts which refer to the skeletal riders on undead animals who come and steal children, leaving ice and frost in their wake. Some are superstitious, for certain, but there is a grain of truth to such tales."

He motioned idly. "Others associate winter and cold with dread, and document that when blizzards and storms manifested, some days they would realize their neighbors or family members had vanished. The references are subtle, but they can indicate a pattern, especially if stretched over the course of thousands of millennia. Who they truly are, as well as their agenda, is unknown, as is what they are capable of – but they are as old as the Sovereign Ones. Perhaps even older."

"How curious," Quisilia noted. "Such a thorough answer. The Bringer has been aware of these people before now?"

"And failed to mention it," the Battlemaster finished. "If this is such an old faction, how have no others learned of them?"

"You assume that none have learned, Battlemaster. Who are you to speak for a universe?" Inspirars wrinkled his nose. "But to your point that He knew…there were many, many stories, all of which none of you or your Collective expressed interest in learning. Yet they are a group so elusive that legends and stories were all we were aware of – this is the first instance where He has seen them through His vessels. Yet make no mistake – the lesser Sovereigns and the Apostate remain the true threat."

You speak of them walking through realities. Explain, puppet.

The Overmind projected his own interjection for the first time.

"A misunderstanding or myth, more likely than not," Inspirars answered. "However, they do not exist or are based in this galaxy, or perhaps many, many others. It is possible they inhabit another universe entirely. Yet they have a means of walking between them as easily as psions can step through portals. Yet reality is perhaps not as certain or stable as we would prefer it to be." He lifted a hand and purple energy flowed around it. "Psionics shapes our reality, but has something shaped psionics?"

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. "On that, we do not know. Perhaps there is a higher plane we have yet to tap into."

"And how are we certain what you speak is true?" The Battlemaster demanded. "What proof do you have besides the absorbed minds?"

"Your ignorant dismissal does you little credit, Battlemaster," Inspirars dismissed, looking to the Imperator. "Your master knows the truth of what I speak. He can sense it. I speak with a thousand voices, from the minds of a trillion ascended. Cultures and peoples who existed long before the Ethereals were conceived in the mind of a Sovereign. Dismiss their words at your own peril, Battlemaster. Be thankful your master is wiser."

The Human was deceitful and slimy in his words, but they were clearly intended to provoke a response and curry favor with the Imperator. The Battlemaster withheld a response, though certainly considered executing the puppet after the meeting was concluded. It was a vessel, and ultimately unimportant.

"While I do not doubt the Bringer is aware of something he believes to be a threat, it is not verifiable proof," the Imperator stated. "It is circumstantially acceptable, but I will rely on Cogitian to confirm such theories."

"And I would be more than pleased to provide him with the materials or opportunity to speak to the Gestalt," Inspirars said. "The wisdom of the Mind Cosmos is open for the Collective. We only seek to provide at this time."

"Tempting, but touching the minds is a step too far," Cogitian said. "However, I will accept physical materials you can provide – or places where I can conduct my own research."

Inspirars nodded. "Acceptable."

"No matter their origins, the fact remains that they are involved now," the Imperator said. "Interestingly, their motivations seem clearer than their origins. They were interested in the female T'Leth Agent. Fiona. They were after her. As they did not acquire her, they will likely return."

"She is likely connected to them," Inspirars said. "A fugitive, perhaps. Or a defector, like ir Nara appears to be. Though beyond that, we cannot say. There is no insight into their motivations, culture, or internal dynamics."

"Perhaps," the Imperator nodded. "Cogitian, Regisora, determine what you can of these aliens. Battlemaster, Guardians, adjust your strategy accordingly in the event they return. Quisilia, return Inspirars to Paradise Station. Return to your duties, I will determine where we are to go next – and how we shall respond to this intervention."

High Domain of the Sage-King – Sphere of the Throne

5/29/2017 – 10:11 A.M.

There had been few times where the General had stepped foot into the High Domain itself. It was normally a place where only the Lords convened, headed by the Sage-King himself. It was a place of grandeur and extravagance, a pinnacle of the blending of beauty, architecture, and power.

Most would describe it as a palace without equal, with towers higher than any city skyscraper, and a peak which pushed into the heavens itself. It almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, and the white-silver of the walls gleamed brightly in the day. It was a symbol of the power of the Throne; invincible, ever-reaching, and eternal.

But from what he had seen now that he walked the walls, the High Domain was a fortress without equal. This was not the domain of the Riders, and he did not expect as much sophistication from those whose duties remained simply guarding the Throne World. Today he was proven wrong.

The advancements the Riders had brought from their many missions throughout the Spheres had not gone to waste, and there was clearly much work happening that neither he nor his Lord was aware of. The towers of transparent glass were in reality made out of enhanced diamond, and even the weakest element in the foundation was made to be ten times stronger than the nearest known equivalent.

Each piece of architecture which held a design or curious architectural concept hid a weapon or defense system of some kind. Only his trained eye could even spot the telltale signs of modification, and such modifications were everywhere in the High Domain. The higher they got to the peak, the tighter the defenses got.

The open hallways for the citizens were replaced with militarized checkpoints with Machine Intelligence-commanded machines and defense systems that tracked each individual who walked the floors. The High Domain Guard stood as silent watchers in armor of gold and silver, made with such craftsmanship and beauty that his own battle armor seemed faded in comparison.

It all ultimately paled to standing before the Sage-King himself.

He had heard it described what it was like to be in his presence, and such stories did not do it justice. It took all of his training to not fall under the commanding spell of the Sage-King, and even still his presence warped the reality around them. He heard whispers and sounds he could not describe, and smells which were alien in origin.

The air would visibly waver around him, and those who were unprotected might find themselves lost and lose themselves in the Spheres, as they lacked an anchor to reality. Bewildered or mishappened creatures and aliens sometimes found their ways through the artificial Conjunction the Sage-King commanded.

They were sent away none the wiser.

Reality to the Sage-King was whatever he wanted it to be.

He existed as a tear in the carefully embroidered fabric of reality.

To be summoned before him was either the highest of honors, or spelled alarm.

The General feared it was the latter.

He stood before a towering window, one which looked over the Throne World. He could see for thousands of miles when the weather machines cleared the skies of clouds, and the rest of the time it resembled a layer of white or grey. Today bright light shone through. The Sage-King was not a man of stature, barely taller than a standard Human, and easily shorter than both of them.

Neither took any comfort in that. His presence dwarfed the irrelevant physical attributes.

He wore immaculate, though ultimately simple robes of white and silver. His skin was pale, and one might mistake him for malnourished from the thinness of his arms and hands. The bone could be clearly seen, yet it would be a mistake to think the Sage-King as weaker because of such.

His hair was silver, and cleanly fell to his shoulders. It framed a face which was old, like the rest of his body, and described as still. No crown or jewelry adorned his body, as such were unneeded. The Sage-King often did not speak, his mind was said to be in many places at once. It was something the General had always wondered about, but ultimately dismissed.

When the Sage-King turned to them after what felt like an eternity, he understood.

The eyes of the Sage-King glowed a faint green; a transposed hologram over the eyeballs, of which the intensity fluctuated each second. The General could see the eyeballs underneath twitch and flicker as if under a seizure. But there was no mistaking the power and skill of what the Sage-King did naturally.

He and his Lord fell to one knee on instinct.

Long seconds passed which turned to minutes. "[Rise.]"

The voice was unfathomably old. It rasped like dry leaves, yet had power within those words. But the voice was dry, it lacked a quality of the well-spoken, as if it was not something the Sage-King did often.

Perhaps he did not.

Both of them rose.

"[We are known to a sphere now.]"

His Lord swallowed. "[Known to more now, yes, Excellency.]"

A long minute passed. "[Why did you risk the retribution of the Sovereign Ones.]"

"[An opportunity arose,]" the Lord answered. "[You are aware of where she is residing. She was vulnerable, and we determined we could act and retrieve her, ensuring she would not lead others here.]"

The Sage-King did not move, nor adjust his voice. "[You failed. Again.]"

"[Yes, your Excellency.]"

More long seconds. "[Disappointing. Your charge is clear. Your service has done you credit; your Generals have performed well. But your obsession remains your weakness. It is your blind spot.]"

"[She remains a threat, your Excellency,]" his Lord almost stammered out. "[We cannot let her move without repercussion. We cannot produce the next generation without her, or it will take millennia to produce another even a fraction as skilled as she is. For the good of the Throne, she must be returned.]"

The Sage-King stared forward, glowing eyes seeing past them. The air flashed and a bird of some kind materialized. Almost immediately it fell under the Sage-King's power, and flew to perch on the bony finger of the man. The Sage-King ever so slightly inclined his head, and the bird flew up, and vanished in a green-white flash.

"[Threat?]"

A pause.

"[No. She is merely a child, fleeing her duty and destiny. She is of my blood – do you believe I do not permit this?]"

"[I…then can she not be forced to return?]"

"[Perhaps I wished to see how far your obsession would take you,]" the Sage-King clasped his hands together. "[I am responsible for those of the Elder Blood. It is not you. It is not your Generals. It is not the Riders. I have known every place she has traveled. I know every sphere she entered. All she knows, I know. She does not know of me, not yet, incomplete as her training was. The moment she poses a threat will be the moment her blood betrays her, and screams to return to the Sphere of Origin from which it was forged. She will not return sooner than when I desire.]"

The glowing green eyes bored into them. "[Return to your duties, and cease your hunt for the Child. I do not wish to contend with a Sovereign One, and your irresponsible actions and reckless intervention pushes her in a dangerous direction. Defy my directive, and I will find another to command the Riders.]"

The General could tell that his Lord did not approve whatsoever – even in the presence of the Sage-King – but there was no defying him. He simply bowed his head. "[Yes, your Excellency.]"

The Sage-King turned away. "[Go. I must take these developments into account. The Sphere of the Sovereign is a vulnerability due to your actions. Expect to hear my command shortly.]"

Office of the Chancellor, ADVENT HQ - Switzerland

5/29/2017 – 4:09 P.M.

Saudia swirled the glass of water in her hand. If there was ever a time for a drink, the circumstances warranted it. Unfortunately, she had a job to do, and she needed a clear head. Answers were elusive, but there were plenty of things which were not. She looked to her XCOM counterpart. "So. I don't suppose you have an explanation for exactly what happened?"

The Commander seemed calm, and his face was mostly neutral. His prosthetic hand rested on the desk opposite her, with the other resting on the armrest. "To be determined. T'Leth has never seen them before. The working theory is that they are Sovereign-backed."

Which was the most obvious answer, but it seemed almost…convenient. Saudia took a sip of her water. "Is there anything to back this up, or is it speculation?"

"Speculation," the Commander confirmed. "Though if it's not a Sovereign – then who exactly would it be?"

"Mmm." And that was the sticking point. While the possibility that there was a third force in the galaxy which wasn't these Synthesized could exist, T'Leth and the Commander had made it clear that in the end, it was only the Sovereigns and Synthesized who really held the power.

"How many Sovereigns are in this galaxy?" She asked.

"Pardon?"

"Sovereigns. How many," she gestured aimlessly. "If these are Sovereign-backed, then the number of suspects can't be that high. Does he even have a suspect list? Any Sovereigns who use tactics like this – and who would intervene here?"

"And that is what is puzzling," the Commander said. "These do not fit the patterns of previous Sovereign Ones."

Saudia frowned. "And you are completely discounting the possibility of a third party?"

"No, but I find it unlikely, as does T'Leth," the Commander answered neutrally. "The facts are this – they were just as advanced as we are, if not more. They came here specifically targeting one of T'Leth's Agents, and they use psionics of a level I have only seen a T'Leth Agent handle. No matter who they are, they have a vendetta against T'Leth. Knowing what I do about T'Leth, I find it unlikely that there is a non-Sovereign who would openly target him like this."

"The only positive is that they are equally against the Collective," Saudia muttered. "I dislike the fact that one of their warriors was able to fight the Battlemaster to a standstill. This faction is not irrelevant. A shame they are against us, else we could use them against the Collective."

"The other good news is that they did not seem to be prepared for a prolonged fight," the Commander pointed out. "Although we might assume the Imperator stepping foot on Earth had something to do with their retreat."

"Indeed." That was another point of contention. It was truthfully a terrifying escalation that would have overrode any conversation in the aftermath of the battle were it not for the utterly bizarre faction emerging, and turning New York into an ice cube. But it was clear that there were no immediate answers on the unknown invaders, so she moved to that topic.

"New York was escalation enough," she said, setting her glass down and looking at the Commander directly. "The Imperator himself appearing is dangerous. That cannot be tolerated."

"Agreed."

"You have an idea of a response?"

"I assume you do as well."

"You first."

"T'Leth has said he intends to send a message of his own," the Commander's finger tapped idly on the table. "What that is, I do not know, but I expect it will be memorable. In the meantime, I consider the SAS a direct target for retribution. I have been preparing an operation to severely damage them for some time. I will put that into motion soon."

"How coincidental," Saudia gave a thin smile. "I was thinking something similar. Later I will meet with ADVENT High Command and we will determine the first target of the Atomic Lance, and begin Operation Scipio. ADVENT Intelligence believes that there will be a number of new additions to the SAS soon. The dominos are falling into place. The Imperator arriving may be the final push."

"We've heard similar," the Commander nodded. "They are on our list."

"List of what?"

He smiled. "Targets."

It was always a pleasure to work with someone who was unafraid to do what was necessary or get their hands dirty. Dangerous the Commander might be, but he was one of Humanity's greatest assets. No wonder so many had wanted him dead; alive he posed an existential threat to their comfortable, naïve lives.

"Excellent," she laced her fingers together. "I believe that a joint operation would be…beneficial. Perhaps we can include T'Leth. We are all on the same page right now. We are all in agreement that the Collective must be shown that if they act like this, there will be consequences."

"Assuredly," the Commander nodded. "Scipio will be fast, but hard. XCOM stands ready to assist to whatever capacity we can. I believe T'Leth will be more than ready to commit his own assets."

"Good." Saudia returned the nod. "Then we shouldn't waste any time. Hopefully after this, the Collective backs off their more egregious operations – and if they don't, more of their allies will burn."

"That they will," the Commander pulled his hand back. "Or they will feel the wrath of an awakened Sovereign."

The Praesidium, XCOM Intelligence Control – Classified Location

6/1/2017 – 9:29 A.M.

The Commander set the tablet down, face grim.

"This is confirmed?"

Zhang gave a single nod. A'Darrah did the same with half of his frame. Creed's arms were crossed as he appraised the Andromedon. "This comes straight from Union Stuirah," A'Darrah reported. "If there are any who are aware of the fleet movements of their sister Union, it would be them."

"And what are the odds that it's just a standard fleet movement?" Creed asked.

A'Darrah simply appraised him through the mask. "Union Reinarm does not simply move one of their most powerful superweapons without reason. It means one of two things – the Federation, or factions of it, are going to pre-emptively strike the Hive Commanders. The second, - and more likely reason - is that it is coming to Earth."

"And since we do not have a fleet," the Commander finished, eyes unfocused as he thought. "That means it is a ground target."

"A ground target the Collective is not interested in capturing," Zhang amended.

"Yes," A'Darrah agreed. "Whatever is targeted will be annihilated. Completely."

"Explain this weapon," Creed demanded, fixing the Andromedon with a hard stare. "We can prepare for it, yes?"

"No."

"Sorry?"

"No, you lack any sort of capability to defend against the Reinarm Cannon," A'Darrah clarified bluntly. "It was designed to destroy capital ships and have no counter. The fact that it is not normally used against ground targets is irrelevant. It took centuries to perfect, with numerous experimentation deaths and collateral damage. But they completed the weapon, and it remains as one of our primary weapons against the Hiveships – and one of the few effective weapons against the Kett'Tasira. There are reasons why such action would even be considered by the Unions – the Reinarm Cannon is capable of turning Hiveships into radioactive slag."

The Commander circled his hand. "Go on. I've read the overview, though I don't think Creed has."

"Andromedons have not followed the same path Humans have in regards to nuclear technology and weaponry," A'Darrah explained. "The primary use was for energy. Bombs and similar weapons were developed, but there was a ceiling on effectiveness, and most unions preferred using projectile, laser, and plasma weapons and missiles. Nuclear weapons were expensive. Powerful, but not necessarily economical, and useless on ground raids unless complete annihilation was desired."

The Andromedon lumbered to the side a few steps. "Reinarm did not believe the potential of nuclear weaponry had been reached. So they, together with several smaller unions, began exploring other applications. The result was a cannon which was capable of containing what your species has designated as corium – more commonly known as nuclear lava - and directing it at targets."

Creed whistled. "In a…missile?"

"No. In a stream," A'Darrah adjusted a gear on his suit, and a projection of the weapon in question was projected around their small circle. "A stream of superheated radioactive lava. Impossible to stop. Missiles, lasers, armor, nanites; nothing was capable of stopping the stream. Of limited use against fighters, drones, and small starships – but against larger vessels which cannot move quickly, it is death."

All of them stood stone-faced at the image.

"That was the final prototype," A'Darrah continued a few seconds later. "Earlier ones held more simple radioactive materials – it can still hold them, in fact. Plutonium. Uranium. Streams of boiling metals laced with molten elerium if they believe it is necessary. When Reinarm wished to deny a planet, they would use the Reinarm Cannons to poison strategic areas of the planet. Mines. Data centers. Bunkers. It does not matter what defenses existed, the molten metal would melt and destroy everything. The radiation would deny everything else unprotected."

"And one of them is coming here," Zhang finished. "And if our intel is accurate – it will target Busan."

"Would the cannon even be effective?" Creed asked, rubbing his chin. "If it's narrow, that isn't necessarily the best for destroying a city…"

"You presume the cannon would fire once," A'Darrah stated. "A false assumption. When the defenses are destroyed, they will likely shoot down radiation pods to kill anything that survives. This is a weapon which will be used to its full potential. Do not expect it to be ill-suited to this task."

"I suppose if they cannot take it, they will destroy it," the Commander said grimly. "They suffer defeat after defeat there. They do not care about the means of victory at this point."

He paused as a thought struck him. "Or perhaps we are thinking about this the wrong way. We assume the weapon is coming to target us."

"Based on the intel, it is," Zhang noted.

"I'm aware," the Commander said slowly, looking at the image. "And I have no doubt it will be used against Busan. But also consider the weapon. It is frankly overkill in every sense of the word. Patricia is likely behind this decision, and if she truly wanted to destroy Busan, she could do it personally or with a fleet of cleanser ships. This provides cover for the reason she is actually bringing this weapon here."

"Enlighten us, Commander," A'Darrah said, a note of confusion in his voice.

But Creed seemed to get it before they did, eyes widened as answered. "T'Leth."

The Commander nodded. "Precisely."

A'Darrah looked between the both of them. "She intends to use it against the Sovereign One?"

"Or have it ready just in case," the Commander said. "Based on what you said, this weapon is powerful enough to kill a Sovereign One. Alone it wouldn't stand a chance against T'Leth. But if, however, he was occupied with something else, and T'Leth was caught off guard – it could hurt or kill him."

"Or so she thinks," Creed added.

"If T'Leth was hit with this cannon, I suspect not even he could live," the Commander said bluntly. "Not that he would admit to that. But it being used against Busan is pretext for justifying it around Earth. I would not be surprised if that was not the last of its kind that appears. She knows the war cannot be won without removing T'Leth. This is her preparing for it."

"Regardless of her ultimate intentions, if this weapon is even half as effective, then we don't have much time," Creed stated. "We need to evacuate Busan – or at least make preparations for it. Most of the civilians have been gone for some time, but the military families nearby..." he shook his head, looking to A'Darrah. "How soon will it arrive?"

"It's moving to an area of space nowhere close to Earth, based on reports to Union Stuirah," A'Darrah answered. "It is likely that it will be psionically teleported. Probably by Patricia Trask or even the Imperator. It will arrive there in one week. I would prepare for it as soon as possible."

Zhang and the Commander exchanged a grim look. Both of them knew what was going to be needed. "We need to prepare to make an attempt to damage or destroy the ship," the Commander said in a heavy voice. "But ADVENT cannot know about it."

Creed blinked incredulously. "Do you know how many people are living in Busan? How many are stationed there?"

"Yes."

"T'Leth!" Creed seized upon the ray of hope. "Conventional defenses may fail, but T'Leth could protect the city. Even Aegis could probably-"

"That isn't the issue," Zhang interrupted. "We are not supposed to know this weapon truly exists. Let alone that it is being used against us soon. If we acted to defend Busan – even if we made it look like a coincidence – the Collective would wonder if we had gotten lucky – or if we had inside information."

"How many know about this movement?" The Commander asked A'Darrah.

"Only the leadership of Unions Reinarm and Stuirah." A pause. "The Collective is keeping these movements extremely quiet. It is only due to Stuirah's relationship with Reinarm that they know at all. It would not take long for questions to be asked – at least this first time. On subsequent uses you would now 'know' the capabilities, and could properly defend."

"Still…" Creed's face was ashen. "We're just going to let a city be destroyed? One of our most enduring symbols?"

The Commander pursed his lips. "We have no real choice. If we act, we save a city but likely expose that there are elements in the Unions who are in contact with, if not allied to us. Atlantis is not ready. No one is ready. Until we are…Busan will be a sacrifice."

"What about ADVENT?" Creed asked. "Saudia should at least know."

"No, no one should outside the Internal Council," the Commander shook his head. "We cannot give a hint that we know more than we should. Not when the stakes are this high. I do not see another way. I wish there was."

Creed took a breath. "I wonder if she intended this to function as a trap."

"Likely." A pause. "An intelligent attempt, if so."

"If we let this go, it will be the start," Creed warned. "She'll see it worked, and use it to threaten the rest of the world. If she brings another one, or three, even Aegis and T'Leth will be hard-pressed to stop them. She's scared now. She has to be, otherwise she wouldn't be thinking of using these kind of weapons. She's accepted that it's better to destroy Earth and rebuild than claim it as-is."

"Or as the Commander says, she is preparing for T'Leth," A'Darrah noted. "I have my doubts that this woman experiences fear in the conventional sense. Assuming she does is a questionable judgement."

"Let me be clear," the Commander added, lifting his prosthetic hand. "This will be the only time she will touch Earth with this weapon. Beyond this point I will direct T'Leth to rip them out of the sky."

There was a pregnant pause. "Then what was the point of this information if we can't even use it?" Creed wondered aloud.

"So we can be prepared," the Commander said. "And to give T'Leth a warning about her potential strategy. We knew the war was going to ramp up, and I expect it to get worse from here. Consider it motivation. This is what we are fighting against – and that we are running on the clock. Each escalation is one step closer to the Imperator himself coming to finish the job."

The Commander fixed Creed with a firm stare. "And I can promise that he will be harder to handle than these weapons. Let's move this war away from Earth before that happens."

Yang's Quarters, Mars Collective Base – Mars

5/30/2017 – 10:18 A.M.

Yang sat quietly on her bed, thinking. The Battlemaster was equally quiet once he had finished. After a few moments more, she spoke. "Do you think he was telling the truth?"

"A version of the truth," the Battlemaster answered. She could tell he was not happy to know the Bringer was involved – and now appeared to be the primary source for learning who this faction was. "I have little doubt the Bringer intends to exploit this; make himself indispensable. There is little that can be done to stop it; the Imperator demands answers, and will seek to utilize him."

"I mean…" Yang scowled. "Ignoring the Bringer may not be the best idea. Like it or not…"

"I do not take issue with interrogating the Bringer for information," the Battlemaster clarified, lifting one hand. "I take issue with allowing him and his puppets to actively assist in the process. Even if the Bringer tells the truth – something I highly doubt - I know that he will share it on his own terms. The Imperator continually fails to understand this, or simply does not care. It is not on our side."

"Obviously." Yang rubbed her eyes. "What do you think of this…faction?"

To her slight surprise, she felt a tug of concern from him. He did not answer for a few moments. "He knew what I was. The warrior knew about the Empire. He even seemed to know me specifically. That is troubling."

"In what way? Specifically?"

"That they are still here," the Battlemaster answered after a few moments. "This faction knew where to come, and they were prepared. This warrior knew he would fight me. He was skilled – as skilled as I am. It goes beyond historical knowledge, they knew about our strength now. There are spies from elsewhere. We are compromised by something we do not understand."

It initially sounded a bit too conspiratorial, but in conjunction with the evidence she'd seen and some of what the Bringer implied – assuming he was telling the truth – it wasn't unreasonable. Though still, that raised more questions than answers. Based on what the Battlemaster had said, it had seemed like they weren't even here for the Collective or ADVENT, both just…happened to be in the way.

"You fought with the Agent of T'Leth in Paradise," the Battlemaster said. "Recall what it was like. You had explained such before, but this new context could be illuminating."

Yang thought back. It wasn't hard. For better or worse, each trip to Paradise was seared into her mind. But the Battlemaster raised a very good point that she, in the chaos and aftermath, hadn't considered – that she had a semi-connection with the figure this faction was interested in to some extent.

"She is a teleporter," she began. "A very good one. When the Umbra almost killed us, she was able to fight her off. Although…" she thought more. "There was something off about her. Her psionics were…a different color. One I hadn't seen before. It was odd, but I didn't think as much about it at the time."

"Agents have blue-tinged psionics," the Battlemaster recalled. "A Sovereign effect."

"But it wasn't that," Yang shook her head. "It was almost like a pale green. Neon. And teleporting was the only thing I saw her do. Not worth much, but that was what she did. And she specifically mentioned being trained by someone, and said to the Umbra, quote: 'He was better than you'. I thought it meant the Chronicler or another Agent, but now I'm not sure."

"Curious," the Battlemaster said in a strange voice. "She is an anomaly to some extent. It would be worth determining how and why."

A bolt surged through Yang as she recalled something else very important, which forced her to abruptly straighten. "He knew!"

The Battlemaster reacted instantly, the alarm through the bond almost making him grab his sword before he saw there wasn't any danger – just surprise. "What?"

"I think the Bringer knows who she is," Yang breathed. "Or at least what she is. When we were in Paradise the Bringer talked to me. About her. I thought he was trying to divide us – he probably was – but he said some things that implied he knew something."

"Exactly what were they?"

She closed her eyes as she quoted from memory. "'The plan becomes clear. A useful tool she is. All in the name of protection, all in an effort to end the ceaseless hunt.'" Her fists clenched. "I asked her what it meant. She was deflective. The Bringer then asked 'Would you risk what you have sought to avoid'?"

The Battlemaster stood still. Not anger, but tired frustration echoed through their bond. Yang supposed there was the chance that the Bringer being vague to unbalance someone was possible…but it would have been a pretty massive coincidence if that were the case. "Yet another instance of him knowing something and refusing to share it. If he knew who she was…"

"Great, another Bringer lie," Yang sighed. "And what exactly do we do with it? Tell the Imperator?"

"Yes."

"It won't do anything," Yang shrugged pushing herself off of the bed. "It's my word against his. The Imperator – or anyone else - can't read my mind to verify, and only you vouch for me – and both of us are 'biased' against the Bringer. It will not change anything."

"Likely, but if he is to dismiss the word of my Harbinger, then let him do so openly," the Battlemaster stated. "He may not trust you or me, but the effort shall be made. If he rejects this, then I will simply add it to the list of justifications for his removal."

Yang knew the room was secure, and she felt some pride in the Battlemaster willing to vouch for her despite the Imperator's likely rejection, but it still seemed absurdly risky to talk about treason outside of the Prism. It was already nerve-wracking enough there, let alone in a base where others could be listening. "Yeah, I-"

Both of them sensed it. A shift somewhere. Something was happening. A voice sounded over the loudspeaker. "Battlemaster, report to Central Command."

The voice was dull, almost unnaturally deep. She couldn't tell who it was, but it didn't seem to be the Base Commander or the Zar'Chon, who wasn't even on the planet. The Battlemaster gripped his sword, and Yang grabbed her own, even though she wasn't armored. They walked out, weapons ready.

Immediately in the hallway they saw the bizarre sight. There were multiple base staff, all Vitakara, who were staring blankly ahead on the walls, weapons or blunt objects in one hand if they had them. In their remaining hand was a writing utensil or sharp object, which they were using to carve or write a glyph into the walls. Yang didn't implicitly know what such meant – but she knew the style.

That of the Sovereign Ones.

They stopped the moment both of them stepped out, and stared at them silently. A sinking feeling filled Yang as she realized what was happening, though was oddly calm considering the situation. This must be T'Leth. There was no one else who could be capable of this. She wasn't afraid – this wasn't a military base so much as an outpost – but she did not want to have to kill anyone here.

She waited for them to attack, but they simply remained, staring at them. Then they raised their weapons if they had them, or the tools in their hand.

But they did not point them at the duo. Instead they pointed them at themselves.

Move forward. Attack only if they do.

Both moved forward cautiously, with the Battlemaster appraising them warily. More mind-controlled personnel were within the hallways, doing the same thing. Their weapons did not waver and they stared statue-like, unnaturally still, and Yang was afraid that even if they didn't attack, then they would eventually tire and a finger or hand could slip, killing them.

Both of them moved quicker. T'Leth clearly wanted to talk for now – not fight.

Unless it was a trap.

Both of them didn't put it past the Sovereign to attempt such.

The doors slid open to reveal the command center, and Yang saw what awaited within. Many of the personnel stood in formation, awaiting them. On their foreheads or helmets was another Sovereign glyph crudely drawn, carved, or painted on with whatever writing utensils or objects were around. The smell of blood oddly permeated the room.

Near the center there were several Vitakara, who appeared to have been dumping packs of stored blood onto the floor, and using the yellow ichor, to paint a larger glyph on the ground. The base commander, a Vitakarian appraised them with an unnatural stare; no fear or concern. The eyes of a puppet.

"You know why I am here."

Yang didn't, actually, but the Battlemaster answered a few seconds later. "The Imperator."

"Perceptive. I have tolerated your kind setting foot on Earth. I have tolerated your war without intervention. But I can only be pushed so far before responding in kind."

"The Imperator did nothing," the Battlemaster said. "The intruders are our enemy as well as yours."

"I will deal with those who trespass on worlds under my protection."The air rumbled from the power of the voice which should not have come from a Vitakarian. "The Imperator is a trespasser and an enemy. I care little for his reasons or justifications. Know that each time you step on Earth, you step into the realm of a Sovereign One. You step into my realm. And I shall tolerate such intrusions by your master no longer."

The air rippled with power. "For such actions, there will be retribution. Consider this a warning. Should such a warning be ignored, I will destroy Vitakar. I will destroy Desolan. I will raze your worlds to ash and end your dreams of a new Ethereal Empire. I will render you helpless before the Sovereigns you hate and fear."

The puppeted Vitakarian's lips morphed into a mockery of a smile. "Now understand the Powers you interfere with. Understand that you are beneath me, now and forever. Understand that I am Sovereign, and that you are nothing."

At that, the eyes of the Vitakara seemed to fade ever so slightly, and he fell to the ground, followed by everyone else. The tension and power in the air faded, and Yang immediately rushed to the closest alien. They were still alive, to her surprise – she didn't think T'Leth would spare them – but they were just unconscious.

Nice of him.

The Battlemaster hadn't moved, instead looking at the blood-glyph on the floor. "I didn't know he could reach this far," Yang said quietly. "That's…concerning."

"Indeed," the Battlemaster said slowly, looking down to her. "Come. We need to ensure that there were no injuries or other surprises – and when they awaken, ensure that they were not compromised further."

Nulorian Outpost – Unknown Location

6/4/2017 – 11:01 A.M.

The Nulorian were preparing to go to war.

Nartha couldn't remember seeing this many Nulorian in one place – at least not all of them preparing for conflict. As opposed to a weakened guerilla force like the Vitakara believed, the Nulorian were equipped with surprisingly strong armor, weapons, and each and every one was a hardened killer.

He could see it in each of their eyes – or faces for those who had no pupils. The attack by the Zararch had galvanized them further, and it was time for proper retribution. None of them particularly cared who would die today – only that the Vitakara were hurt and the day would haunt the survivors the rest of their lives. It was more than a mission to hurt the Collective – it was an act of revenge.

Not for the first time, he wondered what would happen, should they win this war.

The Nulorian couldn't reintegrate into any ordinary society. They were too poisoned by hatred for the average citizen they saw as worse than traitors – collaborators. Enablers. Abettors. It didn't matter if they'd not had a choice, nor if they were propagandized, only that they supported the Aui'Vitakar– and Collective - by proxy.

As they saw it, if they had been able to break the hold of information the Collective held over them, everyone else should have too.

Nartha sincerely hoped this wouldn't come back to haunt them. The Nulorian were dangerous for multiple reasons – but were also the only ones on Vitakar who could be their allies. He had to trust the Commander would keep Miridian in line, though he had his doubts as to the effectiveness, long-term.

A Miridian-run Vitakar would not necessarily be an improvement. Not when he held his genocidal beliefs for half of the Vitakara races. Much less the even more radical beliefs of the Nulorian rank and file.

If things went 'well' today, it would be the start of a genocide. Even if it didn't, thousands were going to die.

But it was necessary, or so it had been declared.

At least their mission was going to be something worthwhile. The Crypt had actual importance, and the point wasn't causing terror or piling up Dath'Haram corpses. In this whole operation, Nartha was admittedly interested in what they would find. The Crypt was one of the enduring secrets of the Dath'Haram – hopefully there was something left.

"You've got that look," Shun said, walking over, already in her Titan Armor with a helmet under one arm.

He frowned up at her. "I do not have a 'look'."

"Everyone has a 'look'," she said, taking a seat next to him. "It just changes meaning person to person."

"Ah." He understood that concept. Everyone had different tells and indicators as to what they were feeling and thinking. He must be slipping if there was something she could discern – or it meant she knew him very well. Which…while that was certainly a weakness the Zararch would never have approved of, he found some kind of comfort in that.

"In that case," he said, looking to her. "What does my 'look' mean?"

Sitting next to him in armor, she was actually as tall as him. Propping her chin on a fist and elbow on a knee, she looked thoughtfully at him. "That something is bothering you. And that it's not the mission."

It wasn't necessarily the best time for a discussion like this, but at the same time, she wasn't the type to get overly rattled or distracted. "Look around," he nodded to the teams of Nulorian getting ready. "Is it still like this in XCOM?"

"All the time," she cocked her head. "We get ready for ops pretty regularly."

"Not that," he sighed. "The…reasons. XCOM isn't fighting for selfish reasons. It's for a greater ideal, yes? A greater goal?"

"Oh, yeah," she nodded. "Protection of Humanity. Can't say we aren't ready to kill some aliens, but it's what we do. We go in, complete the op, and get out."

"Right," he said, remembering his brief time in XCOM. "But it's not like this for them. This," he indicated the Nulorian. "Is revenge. I don't even know if most of them know why they hate the Collective, only that they do because everyone around them reinforces it." He pursed his lips. "I'm wondering what happens to them when this is all over."

Shun joined him and watched the Nulorian prepare. Her thoughtful expression faded as the conundrum realized itself. She let some seconds pass. "Not sure," she admitted. "I imagine that's something the Commander and Miridian figured out. I know the Commander wouldn't let a bunch of racist terrorists be reintegrated without a plan."

"Let's hope so," Nartha said. "Otherwise it's going to be very messy."

"Let's focus on winning the war," she said, putting an arm on his shoulder and giving him a tight smile. "We can sort out everything else later. Today at least, we have a crypt to raid."

"Indeed we do," Sorras said, walking up. The Bladedancer was more armored than Nartha had ever seen, and he suspected that from the quality, the armor had been scavenged from a dead Bladedancer. Sorras's sword was in hand, and his teeth were openly bared – a sign he was in a good mood. "Are both of you ready?"

"As ready as we can be," Nartha and Shun stood. "Let's do this."

"Agreed," Sorras's eyes glinted maliciously. "We've got a Crypt to raid, and a forest to burn."

ADVENT High Command – Classified Location

6/2/2017 – 8:02 A.M.

"At attention!"

The entirety of ADVENT High Command, containing all the Legion Generals, Admirals, and Wing Commanders stood in the auditorium, all broke into salute as Saudia approached the central table where the presentation was to take place. It was an awe-inspiring sight, to see so much of Humanities' best military minds in one place.

This would be a day of history, and she looked forward to the history books reflecting on this day many years later.

The day which marked the beginning of the end for the Sovereign African States – and a damaging act against the Ethereal Collective.

Saudia took the seat beside the Commander of XCOM, Director Powell, the Chronicler, Vicar General Gerstner, and Chief Stein. Those responsible for the presentation were Commander Christiaens, Helion Weekes, Army-Commander Songhyon, Grand Admiral Kamila Malone, and several other Legion Generals who would be spearheading the operation.

"The Collective has performed multiple escalatory actions in recent weeks," Commander Christiaens began somberly. "Considering the circumstances, our response has been restrained. However, with the continuous attacks by Patricia Trask, culminating in the attack on New York, with the Imperator himself appearing, we must escalate in response."

A hologram appeared behind her. "The Collective is doubtless expecting a response. They likely suspect that it will nuclear-oriented considering our signaling from the Chancellor, ADVENT Armed Forces, and the Congress of Nations. What they do not know is where – or if it will be the only such attack. Collective movements indicate that they are preparing for worldwide attacks."

She paused for a moment. "Over the past few months we have been developing an operation to cripple the Sovereign African States. This is Operation Scipio. This is preceded by Operation Whirlwind which has been consistent for weeks, and has only recently been slowing down. This is not because we are stopping the operation, we are transitioning. Thanks to Operation Whirlwind, we have critical information on SAS defenses, systems, and equipment. With this data we can tailor the operation proper to inflict maximum damage against the SAS."

The hologram focused in on Africa. "Let me be clear about the goals of Operation Scipio," Laura stated, looking into the crowd with a firm stare. "It is to inflict as much damage against the SAS as possible. We will not be occupying. We will not be capturing. We are destroying."

A number of colored dots lit up on SAS territory. "We intend to force the Collective to spend resources, manpower, and time fixing the SAS as opposed to using them against us. More importantly, we intend this to be a message to any who would join the Collective. Stand against us, and we will destroy you."

She indicated the pinpoints. "SAS territorial infrastructure is improving thanks to Collective engineering, but it is in a transitionary period. When we invade, we will leave nothing behind. Every single piece of infrastructure, oil field, food source, shelter, pipeline, and farm will be destroyed or poisoned beyond recovery. We will leave the land a dead wasteland, a visible cost of allying with the alien."

She raised a hand. "I will also make it clear that this is not an indiscriminate attack. We intend to keep the civilians alive with minimal collateral damage. This is intentional. We need them alive to serve as a resource drain on the Collective. We have a number of methods from driving them from places of residence, including non-lethal chemicals and physical removal. We expect the less-developed areas to have minimal resistance. This is not solely a bombing campaign, and we can afford to be precise in our attacks."

She picked up a tablet. "ADVENT Intelligence, along with support from XCOM, has helped pinpoint major infrastructure targets, as well as places of interest. While we will raze all applicable territory, we will be prioritizing what to strike first. A singular exception to this policy will be places designated as artifact or historical sites – though these are minimal in the applicable nations. When we have inflicted as much damage as possible, or within acceptable parameters, we will pull back. We do not intend for this to be a protracted campaign. We invade, raze, and leave."

The hologram focused in on the northern border of the SAS. "The operation will begin with Egyptian, Italian, German, and American Legions mobilizing in Egypt and breaking into several strike forces which will exit at various points of the Sahara. The force composition is primarily going to be armored and mechanized. Infantry will be deployed as needed through established Gateway networks and transports. Normally crossing the Sahara would give the Collective a clue that something is coming. However, we expect there to be large sandstorms which will give our forces cover to surprise them."

Saudia smiled to herself. The 'sandstorms' were something that they had worked out with T'Leth to give their forces cover. T'Leth was capable of using telekinesis to create massive sandstorms in the areas which the ADVENT forces happened to be crossing, which the Collective was unlikely to realize was practically impossible, and shouldn't happen naturally. That T'Leth had been manifesting smaller sandstorms recently helped mask it further.

It wouldn't be pleasant to drive through, but it would give them the element of surprise.

"While this operation is taking place, there will be additional attacks against Collective positions," Laura continued. "XCOM in particular has stated that there are multiple Collective bases they will attack, specifically in the United States, Vietnam, and South America. This will be spearheaded in conjunction with Chief Weekes and ADVENT Special Forces. Thanks to ADVENT Intelligence, we also have the locations of ADVENT POWs, and missions will be taken to free them at the same time."

She looked to Saudia. "Chancellor, would you like to add the additional component?"

"Yes," Saudia nodded. "I have authorized the usage of the Atomic Lance against the Nigerian city Lagos. Full radius. Directly targeting the center of government. For now, this will be the only usage of nuclear weapons. It will be launched at the start of Operation Scipio." There were murmurings behind her, which she expected. This was not a decision to take lightly.

"Together with attacks on Earth, we are also planning an attack beyond it," Laura said. "The largest shipyard in the Ethereal Collective is Olganar-2, under the control of the Hive Commanders. We want the Collective to be hurt beyond Earth, and targeting their largest shipyard will accomplish this."

She motioned for a woman sitting nearby to stand. "XCOM is capable of getting us to the planet, and one of their own will provide the means to arrive and return," Laura said. "Aegis has provided the location, which was corroborated with various Collective defectors and extracted intel from alien captives."

Of course, this attack was going to rely on the Agents of T'Leth, but the specifics were something the majority of the Generals didn't need to know. "There is only one group we believe to be capable of accomplishing this mission," Laura continued, nodding to the woman. "For those who are unaware, this is Command Strategist Kwon Seul-Gi, of the Pantheon, designation ATHENA. She will be responsible for the plan against the shipyard and overall attack."

"I have reviewed the acquired materials, and the infrastructure has multiple vulnerabilities," the straight-faced woman said in a clipped voice. "It is not built to withstand high-impact psionics. Nor are there greater threats expected than the overseeing Hive Commander. Our operation will be to cause as much infrastructure damage at critical junctures, and if possible, kill the Hive Commander. As the Collective is not expecting an attack on the shipyard, we estimate only a minimal degree of resistance. Furthermore, with the Collective's attention being focused on responding to the other attacks occurring on Earth, we expect to have an extended operational window."

Of course, this was assuming that the Ethereals like Quisilia didn't intervene.

Then again – the Pantheon had been made to combat Ethereals.

As good of a test as any.

"Thank you, ATHENA," Laura nodded to her, and the woman sat back down. "There is one final component to discuss which will be launched in conjunction with Scipio – Operation Ecnomus. Grand Admiral, you have the floor."

"Thank you, Commander," an older woman, and now Grand Admiral of the ADVENT Seafaring Naval Forces, Kamila Malone was one of the longest-serving Admirals in the former United States Navy – as well as one of the only women to achieve such a position. While the naval aspects of the war were more minimal than most conflicts, she had been instrumental in optimizing them as well as could be expected.

And she had a plan to hurt the Collective's own limited seafaring forces.

"There are a few aspects of the Collective we know when it comes to aquatic combat," she began, as the hologlobe focused in off the coast of Africa. "Chiefly – that the Collective sees it as a largely unimportant theatre. Their two main forces are the Sar'Manda – who are not participating in the conflict – and the Andromedon Aquatic Forces. The latter are very skilled, very advanced, but highly limited numerically compared to other alien divisions."

She looked out into the crowd. "They are a weak point in the Collective, numerically. They emerged victorious in Florida, and now believe they are unstoppable. We will exploit this perception. As the Legions move across the Sahara, the largest known fleet since World War II will head towards the coast of the SAS for invasion."

Images representing the ships appeared on the hologlobe. "We expect the Collective to take notice. We are, in fact, counting on it. They will naturally assemble enough Andromedon Aquatic Forces to, if not crush us, soundly defeat us. On board we will be equipped for a prolonged conflict, with psions, special forces, and the Atlantic Division. However, this is not what we are relying on."

More dots appeared and began moving towards the expected conflict zone. "We want to lure the Andromedons to engage us. At the same time, the largest known submarine fleet is being assembled as we speak, which will also be traveling to the same location. This includes most of our attack subs from the Pacific and the Atlantic which are quietly joining the main submarine fleet. They will operate at maximum test depth, which we expect to be below effective range of the active Andromedon vehicles – they appear to be avoiding deep diving for unknown reasons – something we will exploit. It works to our advantage, as when they engage the surface fleet, they will engage and outflank the Andromedons."

The red dots representing the Collective blinked, then vanished. "If it is executed properly, we will not only defeat the Andromedons, but rout them. We will deny them a critical component, forcing them to find replacements or cede the seas to us. The submarine fleets will be staffed with psions to detect potential alien underwater craft, and deal with them."

What she wasn't telling them was that T'Leth was also personally ensuring that no one disturbed the submarine fleet. And if necessary – he would intervene directly. It was unlikely that would be necessary, however. Saudia believed the plan was strong enough on its own. "Once the Collective fleet is decimated, we will begin an invasion from the sea," Kamila finished. "At this point, the operation will be concluded and we will merge with Operation Scipio."

She nodded back to Laura. "That is our portion, Commander. We are prepared to execute."

"Each Legion will be appraised of expectations over the next few days," Laura finished. "It should not need to be said, but we are about to enter into one of the most crucial parts of this conflict. There is no room for error or hesitation. We must perform our absolute best, or the Collective will ensure we do not get another chance."

She placed a fist over her heart. "Dismissed!"

The Generals, Saudia, and everyone else stood, and returned the salute, before departing to fulfill their part in one of the most important missions in Human history.

The Praesidium, Barracks – Classified Location

6/3/2017 – 10:23 A.M.

It had been a whirlwind the past few days.

No one had any answers after New York, and there was no shortage of questions for what exactly had happened. As far as Kunio had been able to determine, it wasn't with the Collective (clearly), and the working theory was something related to the Sovereign Ones.

If there were other Sovereigns getting involved, then it was going to get dicey very fast.

Though Kunio also suspected that the Agents knew a lot more than they were saying. Being part of the team to get Fiona – well…they certainly seemed to know what was coming. None of them were talking, and Fiona was still sedated and recovering from the attack. It was so bizarre to see her completely broken like they'd found her.

She'd almost seemed like an unstoppable force. He wouldn't have imagined she could be stopped by anyone but perhaps the Imperator or another Ethereal. And as it turned out, the people she really had to fear were beings he'd never even heard of before. She obviously knew who they were.

He wasn't sure she'd tell him when she woke up.

The odd medallion dangled from his hand. XCOM had performed a number of scans on the artifact given to them by another unknown figure – though he seemed to be an ally. Or at least, not someone who was against them. Something about the man was definitely off though. Kunio did not have a good feeling about him.

The medallion was expertly made, there was no question about that. It was small and easily could fit in the palm of his hand. It was dark grey metal throughout with a chain strap. If that was all it was, it wouldn't be overly remarkable. But it was clearly not made out of ordinary metal.

It was warm to the touch, for one. He distinctly remembered handling it in the freezing city, and it being warm. At the time he'd thought his mind was not working properly, but now it was definitely a naturally warm…artifact. XCOM scans confirmed that it maintained a standard temperature at all times. No deviation. Trying to raise or lower the temperature didn't work.

It was impossible to tell what it was made out of. XCOM scans had shown titanium, iron, plutonium, and uranium all at the same time. Whatever it was composed of, it was an alloy that even the Collective hadn't been able to produce. They'd considered durability tests, but since it was supposed to be given to Fiona, it was agreed that they hold off until she saw it.

However, there was another quality to the medallion that had startled him the first time.

It vibrated.

XCOM had, of course, run more tests on it to try and figure out the cause. The current consensus was that there was some kind of advanced sensor inside that, when it detected something specific, triggered the vibration. The vibration was almost imperceptible, but when clutching it, it could definitely be felt. If he hadn't been doing that, he wouldn't have noticed it.

XCOM didn't give him any theories as to what the trigger could be – but he'd kept it with him since XCOM had let him hold onto it until she awoke, and it had only vibrated around Fiona, ir Nara, and Crevan.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Now though, it was time to focus on what was coming next.

XCOM had made it clear there was a major offensive that was going to happen. Operations against the SAS had been planned for some time, but now was the time they were going to execute them. But it was far beyond the SAS. Collective positions around the world were being targeted.

And some beyond it.

"So, if, by some miracle our main teleporter dies," Sylvia Allais, one of the Shoggoth Handlers said, seated beside him. "Think you can get us back to Earth?"

Kunio closed his eyes briefly. "Perhaps?"

"You don't sound certain."

"I can probably get everyone back to Earth," he said unconvincingly. "But it might be London."

She raised an eyebrow. "London."

"I have that place seared into my memory," he admitted. "First time I accidentally teleported anywhere. Sent Carmelita there too."

"Huh," she shrugged. "Always good to have an emergency backup. Works for me, anyway. I just don't want to be stuck on a station with a lot of very angry aliens wanting to kill us."

The Shoggoth resting on her lap reached up with a tentacle to pat at her face. Seeing the Shoggoth Handlers walk around with their Lovecraftian octopi like they were cats was a shock at first, but literally no one said anything, and by now he'd accepted the bizarre place he lived in. It didn't help that the Shoggoth was massive, and easily covered her whole lap.

"I already gave you food," she chided the Shoggoth.

It trilled.

"Fine, fine," she reached into a pocket and pulled out a long purple stick.

Oh wait. That wasn't a stick was it.

He looked away.

He did not need to know exactly what they fed the Shoggoths.

"SAS is rumored to be getting some new members," she continued as the Shoggoth enjoyed the snack. "Coincidentally, it sounds like XCOM is going to be paying them a visit shortly."

"Yeah." That wasn't surprising to him, and not really unexpected. The Commander was brilliant, but very ruthless. He was also hearing the Commander was to take part in at least one operation – something he would consider unfathomable, but the Commander had apparently done it before. Numerous times, in fact.

He couldn't help but admire that.

At the same time, he felt there was something wrong with the extermination the Commander was going to bring down on the likely new SAS nations. There was anger involved, sure. A message had to be sent. But this definitely went beyond a military strike. Government, infrastructure, leadership, all sabotages, assassinated, or removed.

Not to mention the…other operations against the SAS.

He couldn't condone Chryssalid outbreaks, no matter the circumstances.

At least he wasn't in those operations, and he could at least understand the rationale. It was probably how the Commander had been put in charge. He could authorize those kinds of operations irrespective of moral arguments.

The Shoggoth trilled. A tentacle extended to him.

He just stared at it, unsure of what to do. Sylvia laughed. "He likes you. Go ahead. He doesn't bite."

"Alright…" he reached out and…petted? Stroked? Whatever he did, he felt the Shoggoth arm. It wasn't quite as repulsive as he expected. Apparently satisfied, the Shoggoth pulled the arm back.

"It's nice you aren't scared of them," Sylvia said. "They're really gentle creatures."

Kunio thought to some of the footage he'd seen. "Are they, though?"

She patted the head of it. "Well…when they want to be."

Kunio leaned back. "Were you an octopus trainer before this? You seem to get along well with him."

"Octopus trainer?" She found that very funny. "I don't even know if that's a thing. No no, K9 military unit. France. Worked with German Shepherds mostly. Brilliant animals. I like animals in general."

Well, that was interesting. "Isn't that a leap from dogs to…" he indicated the Shoggoth, not finishing the sentence.

"At first, yeah," she nodded. "But they're so smart. Even more than dogs. I love how playful they are too. They're like puppies almost. Curious and energetic! Trust me, when you've worked training animals, Shoggoths are almost perfect. They learn quickly, are obedient, and very loyal."

"Killing aliens is just a bonus," Kunio joked.

"Pretty much," she chuckled. "Not that I would ever want a civilian to have one – they're a bit too dangerous if you don't know what you're doing – but for XCOM? I love them."

A light trill sounded from the Shoggoth. Sylvia petted it gently. "Yes, I love you in particular."

The exchange was almost sweet.

Almost.

It was still a bit unsettling to see up close. But also fascinating.

Never a dull moment in XCOM.

His buzzer sounded. Sylvia's too. They both exchanged a look.

Time to get suited up.

They had a space station to raid.

The Praesidium, Barracks – Classified Location

6/3/2017 – 1:02 P.M.

The red light blinked.

The Commander decided to not give an introduction this time. "Following the recent attacks by the Collective, Patricia Trask, and the Imperator, XCOM – in conjunction with ADVENT – will be conducting a series of operations against the Ethereal Collective and Sovereign African States."

He paused briefly. "This is a multi-pronged operation across several theatres. Earth remains the primary one. ADVENT is executing Operation Scipio, their strategy to irrevocably cripple the SAS. If executed properly, it will render the region helpless and a significant drain on the Collective. We are not certain the Collective will do so, and they may not act within our calculus."

A finger idly tapped on his knee. "XCOM will be performing an attack on what is defined as the Mars Observation Station. We suspect it is the main organizational hub of the Collective and Zararch in particular. Our objective, if possible, is to capture or kill the Zar'Chon if he is present. Alternatively, acquiring any information from the station is acceptable."

"We are aware that this could trigger another escalation, but we cannot afford to keep our operations confined just to Earth," he paused briefly. "That will wear us down over time. The Collective has invaded Earth. Strikes against their own critical infrastructure may serve as a deterrent."

He paused. "Thanks to T'Leth, the Andromedons, and the work of XCOM Intelligence, we have a solid idea of what to expect. We know there are internal Gateways. We know there are likely Special Operators nearby. Reinforcements could include the most dangerous of the Collective. It will not be easy, but we are preparing as best we can.

He glanced to the clock at the side. "I will be taking part in an operation on Earth. Targeting a nation which we have confirmed will announce their allegiance to the Sovereign African States. The DRC has been contemplating joining for some time, and ADVENT diplomats have been unable to sway them. Considering the recent attacks and threat posed by the nearby SAS, it was perhaps inevitable, but unacceptable."

He leaned forward to look into the camera. "We are reaching a critical stage of the war. There can be no division or uncertainty. There can be no neutrality or bystanders. When our species is at stake, no one is neutral. You are either for an independent Humanity, or a subjugated one. The DRC and others have chosen the latter."

The Commander let out a sigh. "It…gives me no pleasure to carry this out, but in this situation, if I am to give the order, I will be the one to condemn the people of a country to chaos. But there is no choice. The DRC and others are aware of the consequences. Perhaps they did not believe them. But they will experience them nonetheless."

"ADVENT is unaware of the specifics," he continued. "They only know we are taking actions. ADVENT Intelligence likely suspects our intentions. All that will be publicly known is that the leadership of countries will disappear overnight. The country will fall into chaos. No country or power will take responsibility, but it will be us. XCOM. ADVENT will be able to keep their hands clean, and we deny another ally to the alien."

With a sigh, he leaned back, wondering how much further he should continue this. "As with some of these other messages, there is a chance I will not return. The Internal Council has, at this point, not even attempted to restrain my direct involvement anymore." He allowed a smile. "Perhaps they think I can't be killed anymore. We'll see if my streak of luck holds out."

"If you die to a country which has a subpar army by old world standards, maybe you deserve it," Vahlen said, coming in from the side into the camera frame. "This definitely won't be the last one."

"How many of these are you going to interrupt?" He asked dryly, glancing up at her. "Before every big operation?"

She smiled. "Perhaps."

"Noted," he shook his head good-naturedly. "For now, that is all. If this goes well, it could shift the war in our favor. If not, then know we did our best. Vigilo Confido." The light blinked to green as the video file was saved and stored under PROMETHEUS. JULIAN knew what to do with these recordings at this point.

Vahlen stood behind him and put her arms around him, and with a free hand he gripped one of them. "You're not nervous this time," he noted with some surprise. "Not planning to knock me out, are you?"

"No, no," she said. "I don't want to say I've gotten used to it, but at least this mission doesn't seem as…dangerous. If you were going to the station, I might be feeling differently. But a third-world African country? No…unless there are surprises."

"I don't doubt there will be some," the Commander admitted. "Zhang is certain there are Zararch operating in the country. But I am doubtful of anything beyond that. We shall see."

"Mmm," she knelt down and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Do you think the soldiers will follow through?"

"Yes," he said. "It's a reason I am going. Why others are as well. This is something that XCOM has to do. For the good of Humanity."

"Agreed," she said beside him, releasing a sigh. "It's only been a few years, but it feels like it's been going on forever."

"I know," he said quietly. "And that feeling won't stop anytime soon. The war is far from over. But things have certainly changed."

"That they have," she said, standing back up and walking around to face him better. She leaned against the wall. "You know, I've been wondering when you're going to properly ask me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ask you what?"

"You do remember our conversation several months ago?" She asked.

"Thank you for narrowing it down," he grumbled. "Specifically…?"

"If you're going to marry me," she reminded gently.

Ah. Now that he certainly did remember. "It was never a question of if, but when," he reminded her with a smile. "I didn't even intend to do my pseudo-proposal that night."

"Well, you did," she chuckled. "Can't take it back now."

"Of course not," he said. "Was there something that prompted this?"

"Nothing specific," she said, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite him. "Just general thoughts over the past months. The war isn't going to end anytime soon, and honestly…there is never going to be a 'good' time to do this. With you going on missions – even if they aren't particularly dangerous like this one – I don't want to put it off for later. I don't want that to be a regret."

He nodded. "Neither do I."

"Well…" she cocked her head. "Perhaps we should do that sooner than later?"

"Perhaps we should," he said quietly, standing as the two of them got closer. "Then I will ask you properly this time." He put his hands into her own. "Will you marry me?"

She looked up into his eyes, and there was nothing but pride and love in them, both of which he felt she was feeling now. He knew she could tell he felt the same way. She leaned up and kissed him. A long one as they stood there for many seconds. Time wasn't as important in that moment.

It perhaps took a little longer than expected, but she gave him an answer.

"Yes, I will."

Betos' Office, SAS Command – Nigeria

6/4/2017 – 5:17 A.M.

There was a sound like ringing in her ears.

A numbness throughout her body.

It seemed like everything was both muted and enhanced. Almost like a dream.

She could barely feel the tablet she was holding. The colors arranged in patterns her brain was struggling to justify. But there was no questioning what she was seeing; what she was being shown. She'd not thought this could happen. She didn't think that step would be taken. New York was something she knew would trigger a response.

But this…

"Betos…" she heard Mox ask quietly.

She remembered she was in a room with several ranking officers. They were looking to her to know what to do next. Each of them was similarly stunned. Confusion, fear, uncertainty, all of them were etched on their faces. But there was a simple numbness to all of them that made none of this seem real.

What was the term?

Surreal.

That.

Yes.

A good word for this.

But she knew this was very real.

"I need a moment," she said in a hollow voice. "Dismissed. I will need all of you shortly."

With no argument they departed, leaving her alone in the Office.

She played the video again.

It was taken from an aerial perspective. Above the city of Lagos. Probably a drone. It was definitely ADVENT. It wasn't Collective, and it wasn't SAS. ADVENT hadn't claimed responsibility for the footage, but it had appeared on the Internet moments after it had happened, and had propagated in minutes to become the number one trending video worldwide.

Their AI was hard at work.

Everything seemed normal at first. It was dark; a regular night. The city was a bit different from the past due to the Collective defense enhancements. Upon second viewing she noticed a few more details. Some turrets turning; anti-missile defense systems activating. Flashes of yellow, green, and white.

They should have worked. ADVENT had been bombarding them for months.

Then a blast of orange from the sky so bright it briefly overwhelmed the camera. But the brief moment cleared and Betos paused upon the image of a beam of nuclear fire raining from the sky into the city. She had not known such a weapon was possible, but ADVENT had somehow created a directed nuclear weapon.

Tens of thousands had been instantly killed.

The local government was dead.

Tens of thousands of citizens were blinded or deafened.

More were suffering from radiation.

The city was not destroyed – not fully. But the city center was just…gone. Not even rubble remained. Just a crater of ash and vaporized soot. But even that didn't matter. The radiation was strong enough that it would sicken whoever was left. The shockwave from it had shattered and flattened the nearby buildings in an even larger radius, killing thousands more.

There was a file that had been given along with the video.

There were more pictures. The devastation, victims whose skin had been burned off blown to pieces, people stumbling around, blind and deaf, people sickened and vomiting in the streets from radiation poisoning. And panic. Fear. With one strike ADVENT had collapsed a city into chaos, and they could only observe until they put together a radiation unit.

She only wondered…why?

She knew they weren't the main threat to ADVENT. In fact, they had shown that they could condemn and oppose the Collective when needed. It wasn't the SAS invading cities and killing the innocent. It wasn't the SAS who was bombarding the world. The SAS was allied to the Collective, yes, but this was…unprovoked.

Was it just revenge? Directed at her for leaving?

"Do not flatter yourself."

Macula materialized before her. Literally appearing out of thin air. She had not spoken for some time. She did not question why or how he was here. She had neither the strength nor desire to do so.

"The Sovereign African States are connected to us," Macula continued. "Allied, even if the relationship is recently strained. But ADVENT does not care. They have done this to send a message. Dissent will not be tolerated. It does not matter that you specifically – or the SAS – are not responsible for some of our more egregious actions. You do not treat us as the enemy – and that is all the justification ADVENT needs."

She was silent for a few moments. "Everything failed. The defenses failed. How?" There was no fury in her voice, only a broken question. She probably should have been angry at this. Angry at the Collective for failing. Angry at someone right now. But…there was no ambiguity here.

There was only one enemy here, and it was ADVENT.

"I do not know," Macula for once seemed uncertain. "We are attempting to determine first how this occurred – and what weapon ADVENT developed. We suspected they would be using more nuclear weapons – but not ones like this. And certainly not against the SAS. We are the primary aggressor to ADVENT, after all."

She nodded numbly.

Macula waited several seconds. "We have teams prepared for this contingency. Andromedon Contamination Operatives and Runianarch Rescue Teams are standing by. However, it would not be right to send them in unilaterally. But I think you see who the real enemy is. ADVENT doesn't appreciate your morals or concessions. They will destroy the SAS and kill you. Nothing you do will change this objective."

He extended one hand. "We are still allies, Helsa Betos. And we stand by to help an ally. Now, more than ever, is the time such alliances are tested. I have done what I can to limit the more egregious elements of the Collective, but I can unfortunately make no promises. But this war is coming to you now in a way it has not before. You need us – and now is a time where we also need you. Let us stand before ADVENT as allies, as we were before."

It was times like these when priorities became clear.

She did not need to stop recognizing the problems of the Collective. But she also knew that Macula was right.

The war was coming now. For real.

ADVENT was coming to destroy the SAS.

On their own, they would lose. They needed an ally. Even an imperfect one.

"Then that is what we do," she stood, composing herself. "Send the team in – and whatever forces you can spare, bring them. If this is the first shot of ADVENT, it is only a matter of time until an army is on the way."

The Dreamscape

6/1/2017 – 4:15 P.M.

Sierra stood in a long hallway.

The fastest way to learn the advantages her new body had was through direct training.

The Dreamscape served as a good tool.

Living now was…interesting.

It was both fascinating and somewhat disconcerting. There was a persistent feeling that she was…piloting a shell. A body. Only not as disassociated as saying that implied. If that had been described to her, she would have found it worrying. But the reality wasn't nearly as disconcerting. It was almost like how she imagined a psion to puppet someone.

Inhabiting a body, but not really.

It was confusing.

The Psychologist Yates was helping her work through it. It really wasn't as though she was having mental problems, but it was going to take some time to get fully used to. One of the side effects though was the feeling that her body was invincible. She felt like a walking invincible tank.

The prosthetics she'd had seemed like cheap metal compared to the strength and power she had now – this was before even piloting a MEC. She still didn't fully know her own strength. She'd almost broken Ted's hand by giving him a high five. She could pick up Anna in full Titan armor.

It was a feeling of durability and power she'd never had.

Of course, she was getting a few new looks now. She towered over pretty much everyone now – with the exception of the other MEC Pilots and a few massive soldiers like Kane. Even still she was a few inches taller. All said and done, she was almost seven feet. It was weird looking down at her friends.

The world was changed in subtle ways too. Her hearing was beyond anything natural. It was overwhelming initially, and she'd quickly figured out how to focus her hearing to only focus on what she wanted. But she was now capable of listening to a single conversation on a completely different end of a room in a crowded place. Like the Mess Hall or Barracks.

Seeing was…mostly the same. But there were things she picked up on now. Many details which stood out to her, she didn't know if she was just capable of processing tons of information at the same time better, allowing her to notice it all at once, or if she was actually seeing things her eyes couldn't.

That wasn't getting into the other skills. Namely seeing through walls. X-Ray vision was an interesting – and useful perk. It wasn't so much X-Ray vision so much of being able to perceive the thickness of a wall and what the room could look like. Seeing what was in it was spotty at best.

Now that she was more familiar with her body, it was time to put it through its paces.

Not least of which because the war was heating up further. She'd missed quite a bit, and there were plenty of aliens that were left to kill. She wanted to be ready to participate in the next operation – one which promised to be an important one. In the hallway she stood, with no weapons – except her body.

Beside her stood XCOM's resident teenager.

Sierra was not completely sure what to make of the young woman. Dawn Conley seemed nice and earnest enough. Her psionics were the only reason she was here, it certainly wasn't because she was a soldier. She did look a bit funny in her Aurora Armor and holding her plasma rifle, like it was a bit too big for her.

Probably because she looked so…young.

She hadn't even really planned on coming here, but Dawn had been there at the same time and asked if she could help. Sierra had thought about it a bit, and let her. It couldn't hurt, and she was curious to see how the girl would fare. The Dreamscape was pretty realistic, and she was fairly certain Dawn had not seen the new MECs in action before.

"So…" Dawn coughed awkwardly. "Are we going to get started? I've never worked with a MEC before, so I'm sorry if I sound kind of anxious. You do know how to use your augmentations, right?" Her question didn't sound inherently insulting, but instead more curious. Sierra didn't really blame her. She was still fairly new, probably somewhat nervous, and getting used to things here.

"Yes," Sierra answered simply. Speaking was also a bit odd. Not that speaking hadn't been easy, but it was almost instantaneous where she intended to say something, and the words came out. As it turned out, this was because she spoke through vocoders, and not anything like vocal cords. So there was sometimes a syncing inconsistency between what she said and how fast her mouth moved.

Anna and Ted found it funny, even if she found it a bit annoying. Athena must have had to practice to get her words and mouth synched properly. She'd been sad to hear that she'd died in rescuing Caelior. There was a lot she wanted to talk about now that she'd gone through with it.

"I'm going to do something," she told Dawn. "Do not be alarmed."

She wasn't sure how well the kid would take this, but she'd have to see it sooner than later. With a thought, the nanites that made up her skin pulled back, leaving only her metal limbs bare. That wouldn't have been overly bad – except that it included her face. She left her artificial hair alone, but what Dawn would see was a not-skeletal face, so much as a face of bare metal, with eyes with glowing red pupils as she activated her X-Ray vision.

It took a few seconds as the 'skin' seemed to melt off of her. She looked back to Dawn who was staring at her with very wide eyes. She visibly swallowed. "Ok, that's new," she almost squeaked out. "Uh…we ready?"

"Put on your helmet," she ordered, as metal plates locked into place over her mouth, sealing that opening. All speech was coming through the vocoders now. "Follow my lead. You are a telepath, yes?"

"Well, Biopath, Ma'am-" she definitely sounded on edge after her face-shift.

"If you can sense them, tell me where and how many," she interrupted, wanting her to get used to answering promptly as Dawn put on her helmet. "You can do that – yes or no?"

"Yes!" She quickly burst out. "Geist's been teaching me some techniques. I'm getting better, but don't expect me to show up on the battlefield anytime soon. And um, don't expect any melting. Still takes me a while to do that. My shooting is pretty decent, though." She patted her plasma rifle.

Good enough.

"Then let's go." Sierra looked up. "Start it, T'Leth."

There was a perceptible shift, and it started. "A bunch in the room at the end," Dawn said immediately. "Uh…five, six? Something like that."

"Thank you." Sierra saw that there was no door into it. Probably one along the sides, where the hallway went around. But her vision showed that the wall was moderately thin. She could probably break through. So either this would work, or she would look like an idiot in front of a teenager.

But the Dreamscape was for experimentation, after all.

"Follow my lead," she told Dawn, and then charged towards the wall. Without the limitations of an organic body, she was able to reach full speed in a few bounds, and a few more later was as fast as a car going forty, with enough force to pulverize anything which got in her way.

She resisted a flinch as she approached, and hit the wall.

She only felt the slightest bit of resistance before it broke under her force, revealing the simple white room. A half-dozen Mutons turned around in surprise, while a mixture of Andromedons and Vitakara were in the back. She appraised them only a second before springing into action.

She immediately shot a fist towards the face of the nearest Muton. She'd expected that at most it would stun it. What it actually did was rip the head partially off, and crumple the metal into the face. Yellow ichor stained her hand as the Muton crumpled to the ground.

Interesting.

The aliens opened fire, and she lifted the Muton corpse with one hand, using it as cover and she strode to the next one, throwing it towards one of the Mutons, while lashing out with a foot, snapping the kneecap of the Muton with barely any effort. She ripped the plasma rifle from the Muton violently, taking off a couple fingers with it, before twisting the neck violently enough to rip it off.

Plasma bolts hit her, but they barely registered. Her frame was more than capable of tanking multiple plasma shots. Still, no point in unnecessary damage. She picked up the plasma rifle and targeted three more of the Mutons then tossed it away before it self-destructed. Her targeting was effectively perfect now, and three shots later, three more corpses fell, thanks to the lack of cover.

The remaining aliens were trying to flank her now. There was a Cobrarian she saw, which was slithering behind her. Three Vitakarians were taking aim; Runianarch she saw. The two Andromedons were similarly firing, and also moving around to flank her. She picked up the nearby Muton corpse and threw it towards the Vitakara.

The Cobrarian charged her and got up close, performing a constrictor attack, using their snake-like bodies to wrap around her. First her leg, and then body and arm. Even if she hadn't made the mistake of leaving an arm free, Sierra was almost certain she could have broken out through sheer strength alone.

She was metal, and the alien was flesh.

The Cobrarian hissed in triumph, which abruptly turned to panic once Sierra grabbed at the throat of the Cobrarian and squeezed. It took only a second for her metal fingers to pierce the skin, and she ripped open the throat of the Cobrarian with a casual gesture. Yellow blood spurted onto her body and face as the Cobrarian drowned in its own blood, and she charged the Andromedons.

She was able to easily get around one of them, and simply tore out as many cables and important-looking gadgets as she could. With that one incapacitated, she decided to simply punch the other one in the massive mask that separated it from the outside world. It didn't break at her first punch – but it did crack.

Another punch shattered it with an explosive burst of the hardened glass. She reached inside and grabbed the corroding Andromedon, slamming the face on the glass shards, before kicking the Andromedon suit back onto the ground with a thud. Knowing the suit would get back up, she marched over and ripped out the control panel within the suit, which was enough to keep it down for good. She prepared for the Vitakara, but to her surprise they were already dead, lying on the ground nearby.

She looked back to the entrance of the room – or more accurately, the hole she had made – and saw Dawn standing, lowering an arm, the psionic distortion fading. "Uh…you didn't want me to save them for you, right? Thought I'd step in, help you a bit in there, if that's okay…" She trailed off, appearing to now notice the carnage around her. "Wait...holy shit. You did all that with your hands?"

From the tone of her voice, Sierra felt like her mouth was probably open, having witnessed that display. Admittedly, she couldn't have really imagined it going better. She was…very pleased with how it was performing. She'd admittedly almost forgotten about Dawn, and that she was a fairly powerful telepath. She seemed to be handling it well though, despite gawking at the corpses.

Her fascination would likely fade in time.

She strode over to the psion, and she could tell it was taking everything for the girl to not step back at the blood-covered Human cyborg. But Sierra just patted her on the shoulder. "No, good job. I'll give you a few more next time. Up for a few more?"

"If you want to," Dawn nodded almost warily. "I mean…yes! Looks like we both did pretty well. Besides, I've got nothing else to do right now, and you're the first person I've actually fought with in the Dreamscape besides Geist. But, um...you got any other surprises in there I should know about?"

"I don't think so."

"Alright, cool!"

"Stay with me," Sierra said, turning to the next room. "Let's see what else T'Leth has in here."

By the end of this session, she wanted to master her new body. And by the looks of it, she was already on her way there.

Skyranger, En Route to Landing Point

6/4/2017 – 9:01 P.M.

A squad of relative newcomers composed those who were here to collapse a government.

The Commander sat and observed. The only one who seemed largely at ease was their sole psion this operation, Ji-Yong Mangjol, a stoic North Korean woman who was very professional, if a bit stringent and silent. The rest of them all felt various shades of uncertainty or unease.

If it was due to his presence, or the mission, he couldn't say.

He reached up and took off his helmet, setting it on his lap. The rest of the soldiers immediately took notice, clearly waiting for him to say something. He took a moment to look around the Skyranger. "Not quite the op you signed up for, am I wrong?"

One of them coughed. "Not at all, sir."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "I'm no telepath, but I can sense emotions perfectly well. I also don't take offense easily either. Commanding officer or no, I am capable of taking criticism."

"With all due respect, Commander," one of the Canadians said. "This seems like an…odd mission for XCOM to be doing."

"Collens, yes?" The Commander asked with a nod.

"Yes, Commander," Kai Collens, their squad Assault nodded.

"Right," the Commander continued. "I am under no illusions as to what we are doing here, and what we will do. We will be assassinating the government of a nation, and any who attempt to stop us. There will be many people who die today as the result of our actions. We are all aware of that, even if it's easier to dance around the topic."

Helmets still on, they looked at him, and he looked at each one of them. They were all paying full attention, at least. "Only a few of you have done something like this before. It is not easy, and you will take no satisfaction from it. But remember what our purpose is. We are to protect Humanity by any means necessary. The DRC has decided that they will join the SAS – and by extension, the aliens."

He allowed a pause. "I – and the Internal Council – had a choice. ADVENT was not going to intervene. There are politics to consider now. There was a limited window before an operation like this is not possible. XCOM is capable of dealing a blow to the new allies of the aliens, and we cannot in good conscience refrain from doing it."

He indicated the area around them. "Thus, here we are. What I ask all of you to remember is this – there are no bystanders in this war any longer. The DRC has chosen a side. Remember that our duty is not to our conscience, but to Humanity. I know what this is like – which is why I am here with you. If I am giving the order, I will also carry it out."

"Don't disagree, Commander," Paloma Casaus, one of the Infantry said from beside him. "Harsh. But necessary."

Mangjol nodded. "Indeed. Stability will return in time."

"Our government made the mistake of placation a time ago," Casaus said. "Cartels ran rampant. One thing led to another, and they ran the show."

"National Guard, correct?" The Commander recalled.

"Yes, sir," Casaus confirmed. "Young and foolish me thought I could make a difference. All I learned was that I was too late. Far as I'm concerned, traitors like the DRC are a cartel waiting to get out of control. We don't cut off the head, it will soon be wearing armor."

"An apt analogy," the Commander agreed.

"I can't say I'm comfortable with all of this," Kwang-Seok Eoh said, the Rocketeer. "But I cannot condone their support to the alien. There are no excuses. If they and their people must die to serve as an example, then so be it."

Considering Eoh was from Korea, that was not surprising. He'd fought his share of aliens before coming to XCOM. "We knew what we were signing up for, Commander," Fen Luo, one of the Chinese Engineers said. "Although perhaps the reality had not set in before now."

"Definitely that," Collens said. "One thing to read about what XCOM may do…and another to carry it out."

"As I said," the Commander told them. "Remember why we are doing this. Remember what happens when we fail."

There were enough examples to come to mind to get the point across.

The stakes were clear.

"Isn't someone going to notice us?" Sahra Kesselman, the German Scout asked. "We're going directly to the Palace, right?"

"We are," the Commander confirmed. "But the DRC systems are…poor. Burning Sky has countermeasures, and we have a psion."

"I have been preparing," Mangjol interjected. "They shall not see us. If they do, they will be unable to do anything."

"Let's review one more time the objectives," the Commander said. "XCOM and ADVENT Intelligence have confirmed that the entire government will be in residence. They are preparing and finalizing the integration with the SAS. Fen, you will establish a contact point with JULIAN, who will crash the city."

"Understood, and shall do."

"Mangjol will facilitate the further deterioration of the city," the Commander continued. "As well as provide psionic support if necessary. The rest of us will enter the Palace, and eliminate all occupants. When we finish. We will move to the Parliament which is also scheduled to be in session to sign the legislation. JULIAN will ensure that communication is under our control. Once both targets are eliminated, and Mangjol validates completion of long-term objectives, we will depart."

"And if we're caught?" Barbara Lawson, the other Infantry asked.

The Commander fingered the steel orbs in palm. "It isn't a question of if we are caught, but by whom and how many. If we are seen, we eliminate. I would prefer we not have to fight an entire city, and I'm sure you agree."

She nodded.

The cabin flashed a solid red. "Hamburg Squad, this is Burning Sky," their Skyranger pilot said over the comms. "Tell your psion to do her thing if she's so inclined. We're coming up on the city. Countermeasures engaged and T-minus five to LZ. Will circle until confirmation of psionic measures is given."

They stood, and readied their weapons. Each grabbed one of the handles above. Mangjol followed suit, and once her hand had a firm grip, she bowed her head. "Working now, Commander. Our path will be clear momentarily."

The Commander gave her a few moments to really focus, and once there was a visible and ever-so-slightly purple distortion around her, he opened a channel back up to the pilot. "Burning Sky, this is the Commander. Psionics are in play. Take us in and ready the payloads."

"Copy that, Commander. We're moving in now."

MEC Bay, the Praesidium – Classified Location

6/4/2017 – 10:24 A.M.

"I keep forgetting how big these are," Ted remarked as they walked into the MEC Bay. "I keep thinking of them as regular sized. Not like Goliaths."

Anna and Ted were already in their Archangel gear, accompanying Sierra as they prepared to be her wing for the upcoming fight. Sierra looked upon her suit, which towered over them. She had tested it out some time before, to do a test run to become acquainted with the systems.

It was good she wasn't likely to wear the Archangel armor again, because she didn't think she could go back.

"Probably has to be that big," Anna commented. "It's designed to take on small UFOs, right?"

"In theory," Sierra said absentmindedly. "If I got a good shot."

"And can you?"

A pause. She thought for a moment.

"I think so."

"So this mission," Ted added as Sierra began the process of getting the Valkyrie Suit prepared. "It's dangerous. Even for us. Not even an XCOM squad behind us this time. Just ADVENT fighting."

"We don't need an XCOM squad," Anna punched him lightly in the shoulder. "We have Sierra now. And you."

"I'm a psion," Ted protested. "I'm a man, not a god."

"Guess Sierra will have to pick up the slack," Anna gave an exaggerated sigh. "I am now the only mortal here. Do you even age anymore, Sierra?"

Sierra cocked her head. "What's living of me does."

"Please," Ted rolled his eyes. "As if any of us are really mortal anymore. With how much MELD is pumped into us, at minimum we're living twice the average length of a regular person. But we're getting off topic. The mission."

"We go in, kill aliens, and get out," Anna said. "Straightforward."

"We check our fire," Sierra cautioned, remembering the briefing. "Jakarta is the largest staging ground the Collective has against Singapore. We take that out, we give Singapore time to recover and take back some ground. I would almost go so far as to say we hurt their entire Indonesian campaign."

"Noted," Anna gave a sharp nod. "And we're the bait."

"In a sense," Sierra shrugged as the Valkyrie suit opened up for her to enter. "I would expect the Collective to fire on any XCOM soldiers. Me especially, as they have never seen a Valkyrie before. Once the ADVENT Wings appear, then it will be too late."

"Not just ADVENT Wings," a new voice said. Sierra turned to see a man in a pilots suit walking up. An XCOM Aviation helmet was under his arm. He looked fairly seasoned, brown hair and short beard. Definitely American from his accent. Sierra immediately suspected Air Force.

"Matthew Yaeter," he said, extending a hand which she took, taking care not to crush his hand. "Firestorm Division; Pilot-Commander of the STARSCREAM Wing. Looking forward to working with our first Valkyrie. Expectations are high, Pilot Morrow."

"We got Firestorm support?" Anna asked. "Huh. Didn't expect that."

"This time you do, Archangel Pavlova," Matthew nodded with a smile. "Contrary to popular belief, we are very much still around, even if XCOM forgets we exist sometimes. The theatres of air and ground do not cross as much, and we perform very different missions. Today, though, that changes."

Sierra nodded to him. "I presume I'll join you in the air to the target site."

"Indeed," Matthew confirmed. "Archangels, I've been told you'll be taking the Gateway to Singapore and converge. Has the plan changed?"

"Not that I'm aware," Ted answered. "How many Firestorms are we getting?"

"A full two wings," Matthew ticked off his fingers. "A dozen Firestorms total. I'll be joined with Pilot-Commander Powers who will be leading SKYWALKER Wing. For clarity, the three of you are JAVELIN Wing."

"I guess the cool names were taken then," Anna chided. "Sad."

"We work together again, and I'll give you a more unique moniker," Matthew smirked. "See you in the sky. We're taking off in ten. Vigilo Confido, Valkyrie, we're all ready to see what you can do."

Sierra let her eyes turn red as she prepped her body to enter the Valkyrie. "Let's make them hurt."

Conference Hall, ADVENT Media Hub – Switzerland

6/4/2017 – 6:00 A.M.

The media was oddly silent and respectful as she walked in. The click of camera shutters sounded like normal, but the faces of the many figures with their microphones and recording devices out held a variety of expressions.

Shock. Worry. Fear.

It made her curious.

Miami had not elicited this kind of reaction, though admittedly the circumstances had been far different. It was a last desperate attempt to hurt the Collective advance, and only done after every other option had been considered and exhausted. It had been, all things considered, limited.

This was a direct strike against a sovereign foe, in a civilian population.

Saudia wondered how many of them had felt she would not go through with it.

That there would be a line she would not cross.

That there were limits to what she would sanction.

No.

Whatever misconceptions they had about her were shattered for good. Ironically it had taken a nuclear strike for the media – and much of the world – to see that her resolve was firm. This war would be won, no matter the cost or the steps that needed to be taken. Now it was time to speak to the world directly.

She stood a few seconds looking into the crowd, and with a finger pressed down on a remote on the podium. Beside her the footage of the nuclear attack played, loyally captured by the Kutkh Ravens. There had been other angles, but this one was preferable. She didn't look back at it. She'd seen it dozens of times already.

Some in the crowd looked away. She knew it was the moment when the beam struck.

When it finished, she waited until the screen went black. Then she spoke. "At approximately two-fifteen A.M. I authorized a nuclear strike on the city of Lagos, within the Sovereign African States." Anyone watching knew that the weapon wasn't a traditional nuclear weapon, but she wasn't going to disclose the details or specifications of the Atomic Lance.

"Over the past weeks and months, the Ethereal Collective and their allies have been escalating their war against us," she continued in a calm, cold voice. "Patricia Trask has launched invasions, attacked cities, and has caused immeasurable damage and killed countless soldiers and civilians. The Collective has bombarded our world indiscriminately."

With a hand she gripped the top of the podium, peering intently at the crowd, her voice sharply intense. "This will no longer be tolerated. ADVENT has suffered the tantrums of the Harbinger. If she wishes to inflict suffering upon us, we shall return it to the Collective and their allies tenfold. This is a war for our survival."

She paused. "But make no mistake. This was our decision. Today we used a nuclear weapon. If the Collective is intent on pushing us further, then we will use more. We are past the stage of believing the Collective wishes to fight fair. They wish to conquer us, and should they attempt so, we will make them pay dearly for it."

The hand closed to a fist. "The Collective, and the remaining nations of the world appear to doubt our resolve. That we would take these actions. But if our own history has shown nothing, it is that we are resilient and do not succumb to fear and despair. When backed into a corner, we will fight and kill. We will do more than protect ourselves, we will ensure that those who inflict these attacks upon us will suffer equally or greater than us."

She briefly closed her eyes, before looking into the eyes of those gathered. "Many of you know little of my past before assuming this position. I was born in Nigeria. I lived in Lagos for some years of my childhood. It was once my home. But I will not let sentimentality and my own feelings stand in the way of what must be done."

She looked to the camera. "Let the Sovereign African States know that they would be wise to surrender and break with the Ethereal Collective. If they do not, then we will return your people to the dirt where we all come from. We will burn your nations. We will raze your cities. We will return your people to the age of stone and tribes, and turn you away when you flee to us. This will be the fate of any who reject their Humanity in favor of the alien."

Saudia hesitated for a few moments. "There are nations who remain 'neutral'. Who believe they can stay on the sidelines; ignored. But they lie to themselves and their citizens. There is no neutrality in this war. You are either on the side of the Human, or the Alien. We are Humanity. If you do not choose where your allegiance lies, then the time will come where it is chosen for you. Our tolerance is ending."

A final pause.

"Make your decision. Your time is short. And if you hesitate, then see what will soon befall the Sovereign African States, and know that it will apply to all those who betray Humanity."

The Forest of Haramoalian – Vitakar

6/4/2017 – 6:19 P.M.

The forest was burning.

Even through his helmet, Nartha could smell the vegetation burning, and far above he could see the smoke gathering. It was not near – but it would soon spread, and while there would have normally been an immediate response from the Dath'Haram, the Nulorian shooting down water craft and any kind of emergency vehicles had put a mortem on support.

The Dath'Haram were not prepared for an attack of this scale.

They made their way through the forest, with Sorras as their guide. This was going to hopefully be quick and painless.

The Nulorian had launched their attacks, and if all had gone well, the Crypt would be unguarded. Nartha knew that was unlikely to be the case, but one could hope. Soon enough they broke out into the entrance to the Crypt, an open area with memorials and gravestones on well-maintained paths.

"There he is," Sorras said, reaching for his sword. "Right on schedule."

Nartha also saw him.

Filhallan, the first and oldest Bladedancer of the Dath'Haram. He merely stood, appraising them with unblinking eyes and his outfit custom made by the Hunting Parties. His blade was at his side idly, but Nartha was not fooled by the relaxed appearance. He was doubtless prepared to strike quickly.

What little video existed on him showed a Dath'Haram with extraordinary speed.

"We shoot?" The XCOM Engineer Roe asked.

"Fan out and set up," Sorras instructed. "I doubt he's the only one here. A shame we don't have a psion."

"I would hope we can handle one Bladedancer," Mehren muttered, lifting his sniper rifle. "Say the word and I'll execute him."

"This is all your doing, I suppose," Filhallan spoke, in a slow and ponderous voice. It was an old voice, the oldest Dath'Haram Nartha had ever heard. "And for what purpose, Sorras?"

Sorras stopped. "You recognize me."

"I do not forget those I trained."

"I've gotten better," Sorras lifted his blade. "You know why we are here."

The XCOM soldiers fanned out, their weapons trained on the lone Bladedancer. Filhallan looked around idly. "The Crypt. It has not been the first time the Nulorian have attempted to penetrate it. I suspect it will not be the last."

"Bold to assume you'll succeed."

"I could say the same for you," Filhallan flicked his blade to a ready stance in a blur. "But your people have burned our forest, and you try and storm our Crypt. For that you will die. I see no other path."

Nartha waited. Sorras sneered. "Still not one to swing the first blow. This is why you lose."

They heard a rustle from above, and Nartha rolled out of the way, just out of the point of a Bladedancer who had fallen from above. "Look around you!" He roared as Sorras charged towards Filhallan and the two began dueling in a flurry of blows and silver blurs. Most of XCOM was able to get out of the way.

Some others weren't.

Mehren was skewered as a Dath'Haram landed directly behind him, sending the blade directly down his spine, following it up with a snapped neck. The Bladedancers had also made the mistake of trying to assassinate Janiya at close range. They did in fact score a hit on her, but the MELD Operator simply directed a swarm of nanites behind her, enveloping the Bladedancer who screamed as the nanites ate away at him, even as he tried slashing at her iron skin.

Nartha's own assassin flourished her blade and moved with blinding speed to close the gap. Fortunately he remembered the Zararch instructions for considering Bladedancers. While rare – they were deadly. Not the fake ones in the Runianarch either, who used the weapon as just that – a weapon.

Bladedancing for the serious was an art form.

There was a very important rule.

Do not let the blade touch you.

Blades were coated with lethal poisons which would kill in minutes if the skin was broken. They were hardened and durable enough to be nearly impossible to break or bend. They were highly sharp, and pointed. Armor was not as much of a help because Bladedancers were capable of analyzing each and every weak point in the armor and striking.

Keep your distance.

Nartha jumped back, and fired in an arc in front of him. The Bladedancer nimbly ducked under his arc, and Nartha corrected by shooting towards the ground, which she leapt over. Keeping them moving was important, as distance was put between them. She bared her teeth, seeming to realize what he was doing, and with an elegant twirl flung a weighted cord.

Nartha quickly spread his legs and ceased moving. The Bladedancers only employed those tools to slow down or trip targets. If he fell to the ground, he was dead. He could afford to let the cord wrap around one leg if necessary, but not both. She leapt towards him, and he pivoted on one foot, firing.

A bolt clipped her and she hissed, even as he kicked off the cord and moved backwards. He needed to be cognizant of where he was going, because the chances she was going to drive him into another Bladedancer were high. She was far too close for comfort now, and he could almost hear the blade whistle past his face.

As he observed her style, he realized that he appeared to have – luckily – gotten a more inexperienced or newer Bladedancer. Experts used thrusts and jabs against armored opponents, not slashes – and his opponent was primarily using slashes. Sometimes those were useful for driving an opponent back, but weren't as dangerous.

He could use that.

It was something he would probably only have one shot at. It required his reflexes being almost perfect. He let her move in, and slashed where his throat should be. The expected action was to leap back – but instead he hung just out of range – and stepped forward, trapping her arm and twisting.

With his pistol he fired two shots into her side and kicked her away before she tried a martial move against him. Lifting his rifle back up, he aimed it at the gasping and stumbling Bladedancer and fired several shots into her chest and head – killing her quickly. One down. Lucky.

He looked around the chaotic scene. Edgar, the other XCOM Intelligence agent had died, and four Bladedancers were focused on Janiya, and the MELD Operative was holding her own, even as the Bladedancers were keeping their distance. Shun was facing off against one which seemed particularly skilled. Roe had just finished killing one, and was shooting the corpse to finish it off.

But the duel between Filhallan and Sorras was reaching a peak.

Nartha was almost finding it hard to keep up with the speed of the duel. Sorras was without a doubt one of the fastest individuals he had ever seen, blade or not, but Filhallan was something beyond normal. It was like watching a machine in a humanoid form fight. Each action was within the blink of an eye, and he was impressed Sorras was able to keep up.

Both were exchanging blows, and despite Filhallan's speed, Sorras was getting close to landing some decisive blows. Flickers of light and silver shone around them, a crescendo and dance between the masters of the craft. Then it happened.

Filhallan exposed himself just enough, and Sorras seized the opportunity and sliced upwards, opening a wide gash on Filhallan's sword wrist, even though he still held the blade. But the move stunned the elder Bladedancer enough that he left his chest briefly exposed and Sorras followed up by stabbing him directly in the heart.

Almost all the fighting stopped at that. The Bladedancers immediately backed off, shooting almost frantic looks to their master, even as they watched their XCOM opponents.

Was it over?

Filhallan stood paralyzed as blood flowed out of his wrist and chest. Nartha expected him to keel over at any moment. Sorras pulled the blade out, in a final flourish. Filhallan unexpectedly bared his teeth in a smile. "Well struck, Nul'sorras'haramoalian."

Then he walked forward.

Sorras seemed shocked that he was still moving, and performed another, final swipe, which opened a river of blood from his throat.

The Bladedancer kept moving.

Sorras sliced and stabbed again. Each blow was true, but unlike before, Filhallan just stood there and let the blade ravage his body before lashing out with one hand and capturing his arm. With the blood-soaked arm still holding his own blade, he stabbed Sorras through the chin and brain, killing him instantly – though not before Sorras performed another stab through the chest.

Filhallan let the body drop to the ground.

Nartha felt numb as he saw the walking corpse methodically extracted the bloodied and poisoned blade from his own body, as the eyes of the Dath'Haram swept across them. The Bladedancers seemed equally as stunned.

Who was he?

The Zararch had never known him to be anything like this – at least not that Nartha had been aware of.

"Fall back," Shun made the executive decision. "This is not the time to figure this out."

"Copy that," Janiya stated, moving to the pre-planned contingency point that Nartha was very glad they had established.

The Bladedancers immediately began moving to attack, as if the spell had been lifted from their fugue, but the last thing Nartha saw before they fell back into the forest was Filhallan lifting a bloody hand – a clear sign to stop. The Bladedancers immediately complied, and XCOM retreated into the forest.

Nartha didn't know why the Bladedancer was letting them go.

Probably as a warning.

If so – the message was received.

Zar'Chon's Chambers, Mars Observation Station – Mars Orbit

6/4/2017 – 6:18 A.M.

It had been a troubling few days.

This decision that Saudia, and by extension ADVENT, had taken was not surprising, but it was inconvenient nonetheless. It was a type of nuclear weapon that was not something they had thought ADVENT had in their arsenal. Already Andromedon scientists were fairly sure they knew how it operated – but it was on the advanced end of nuclear weaponry.

Impressive that ADVENT had kept it secret.

But they had perhaps used it too early. He knew that these would be especially potent weapons against starships. But perhaps they had felt like they didn't have a choice. Assuming that ADVENT would ever pose a threat beyond Earth was…almost wishful thinking. They needed a fleet first, and at best they were only in the prototyping stage.

There was a silver lining to all of this. Faint, but there.

The SAS had immediately dropped their little standoff, and were now working fully with them. Ravarian had never believed it would last long, but Betos had held out longer than he'd thought. Even if it had taken one of her cities being bombed to do so, it was better than nothing at all.

It made him wonder why ADVENT had gone directly after the SAS and not a more important Collective base. Based on Saudia's speech afterwards, the calculus appeared to have been not to the Collective, but anyone who was considering joining or allying with them like the SAS.

Still, he questioned the tactical effectiveness of it. The SAS was intentionally not being a problem, and now they were fully back in the fold – entirely due to ADVENT. Perhaps ADVENT did believe it was fake? He couldn't rule that out, but it ultimately benefited them. One city could be replaced.

But this, of course, was not the only attack they would see today.

Oh no, there would be many more.

This was simply the opening salvo.

Cali mewed once, leapt into his lap and immediately settled down, as he absentmindedly began petting her. "What do you think?" He asked the cat. He didn't know what to think about his developing habit of talking to the creature for no real reason. Perhaps because she didn't talk back and couldn't actually affect anything, it felt good. "United States? South America? Where will ADVENT strike first?"

Cali just purred.

He scratched her ears. "I couldn't agree more."

Ravarian returned his attention to the screen, seeing the Human media drone on about 'implications' and 'historic, groundbreaking conference'. One of the pundits in particular caught his attention from the muted subtitles. Head cocked, he unmuted the station, more out of curiosity than anything.

Dave Muri. A middle-aged Human with ruddy skin and slicked back short hair which was a dark brown. His face was almost comically intense as he spoke. "What I'm telling you is that this was exactly what the Chancellor needed to say. The SAS has been killing our soldiers in the region for months now. It's time they face the cleansing purity of nuclear fire."

Ravarian almost chuckled. Was this man serious? The other pundits seemed somewhat taken aback. "She just bombed civilians," another pundit said slowly. "That's not something we should take lightly."

"Right, but she needed to do that," the man insisted. "Tell me, if you had the opportunity, wouldn't you take out a city filled with traitors?"

"I mean, I don't know?" the other pundit defended. "It depends on what I knew, what she knew."

"What about you?" Dave then asked the next-closest pundit. "Why would not bombing the city be acceptable, given that the SAS is our sworn enemy."

'Sworn enemy'. Ravarian snorted as the woman in question just looked at him in a mixture of confusion and concern. "Well, even if the SAS is our enemy, we can't just go around bombing cities wherever we feel like it."

"That isn't the question. And hasn't the Collective – and Patricia – been doing that exact same thing for a while now?" He insisted, going to the last pundit, his face oddly flushed. "What about you? Would you have let the SAS go unpunished for what they have done against us?"

"Well, technically, it was the Collective who is our main enemy," the pundit said, looking at Dave warily. "The SAS was even calling them out sometimes."

"Dave, are you feeling alright?" The female pundit asked. "This is a bit violent, even for you."

Ravarian decided he'd heard enough, and shut it off. What passed for Human news was rather amusing. And they had the nerve to call the Zararch propaganda. At least they wouldn't have someone like that on any information dispersal program. What the current media reaction told him was that not everyone was fully on board with the strike, but no one had any power to stop ADVENT.

There was a new name being thrown around in regards to Saudia, especially since she'd apparently nuked her birthplace.

The Iron Chancellor.

No doubt something perpetuated by the ADVENT AI, but it was fitting nonetheless. She was certainly ruthless enough to warrant the title, melodramatic as it might be. She was definitely not content with one attack. There would be others. Others which would be coming very soon, he was certain of it.

T'Leth was also concerning – but countermeasures were being developed, and the extent of his display appeared to be over. Still – Ravarian was not going to discount the Sovereign becoming more involved. With Patricia recovering after being defeated, he imagined she would not be taking many chances when it came to mitigating the Sovereign.

A shrill alarm sounded.

He leapt to his feet, and Cali jumped off as his weapon appeared in his hand. The alarm only went off if there were hostile forces nearby – or in the base. "Report!" He snapped, knowing the CODEX would answer.

"Intruders in Hangar Seven," the CODEX answered immediately. "Identified as XCOM. Instituting lockdown."

"Projection onscreen now," he commanded, striding to the center of his chambers as the hologram came online as he saw the apparent XCOM strike team. He couldn't determine any of the Humans by identity through the armor – but his lips pursed as he saw not one, but two Vitakara with XCOM. A Borelian and Oyariah.

Well then. Traitors all around.

Only right they died on the grounds of a Collective stronghold.

There were certainly psions with them. Fine. If XCOM was going to invade, then they would be punished accordingly. "Contact the Overmind. Inform him that XCOM is on the station."

"Opening line. Sequencing now."

"And as you do that…" he watched as the XCOM squad began fighting the staff in the Hangar – most of them not even soldiers. "Vent the Hangar – and activate our Operator."

Palais de la Nation, Kinshasa – Democratic Republic of the Congo

6/4/2017 – 9:24 P.M.

The Commander hit the ground with an audible thud. Hamburg Squad landed right beside him moments later. A large crate slid down a rope from the Skyranger, which was caught by Casaus and Sahra, unhooked, and the cable retracted back into the vehicle. The Commander scanned the immediate area.

There were a few guards – or would have been, had Mangjol not removed them. Instead they were passed out, and at the moment there was no investigation. With a sharp hiss, the Skyranger ejected a small pod which landed nearby. It opened a few moments later, and four of the packed Chryssalids awakened.

It was past time Vahlen's little experiment got some usage.

"Ugh," Collens muttered. "Hate those things."

"As do I, but they have their uses," the Commander said as the creatures shook their heads, awakening as they fell under Mangjol's influence. "The good news is these ones can't spread. Vahlen made sure of that."

"Thank goodness." Barbara checked her rifle. "Still, I'll keep my distance."

Fen was setting up his makeshift antenna as the Skyranger flew away into the night. "We should be online soon," he said as the Chryssalids chittered. "JULIAN will only need a moment anyway." A few minutes passed as they took positions, though no one was coming their way. Sahra opened the crate and peered inside.

"There's a lot here," she picked up one of the containers of Chryssalid eggs. "How are we getting these everywhere?"

"Leave that to our psion," the Commander said. "She'll find a way."

"And…we are up and running," Fen stated, standing. "JULIAN, are you here?"

"Yes, yes, it took you long enough. It would almost have been faster to go through ADVENT, find this exact city, and break through then wait." JULIAN was certainly not holding back his critique today.

Probably disappointed that he wasn't being more thoroughly tested.

Soon, JULIAN. Very soon.

"Are you going to complain, or are you doing to do something?" The Commander asked dryly. "I would have expected you to do something dramatic, not berate my squad. Nervous?"

"Please, this is utterly pathetic," an electronic equivalent of a snort. "It took me actual seconds. Incredible. I'm amazed ADVENT hasn't cracked this sorry excuse for cyber security. Stand by. The city is about to go dark. How far, exactly can I go?"

"Whatever is necessary."

"Duly noted."

A second later, everything went dark. All of them watched as chunks of the city went off, one by one.

"I trust that is satisfactory?" JULIAN asked smugly. "I have also taken control of their outgoing communications. I am currently flooding them with spam callers."

"Perfect, JULIAN," the Commander pulled out his Mind Ray and hooked it up to his suit. "We're all set. Stand by for further instructions. Amuse yourself as needed." He looked to the rest of the squad. "The building has probably gone into lockdown. Move forward. Mangjol, set the Chryssalids hunting."

"Yes, Commander."

The kneeling psion didn't gesture, but the quartet of alien creatures shot off into the night, each with a specific location in mind to go hunting. There were several law enforcement centers and military outposts. The Chryssalids would be unlikely to kill everyone in them – but they would kill enough to cause chaos.

And once people saw it was an alien causing carnage, that would be enough to poison public sentiment against the aliens.

As the Hades Contingency intended.

The armored squad marched forward and there was no ceremony as they kicked in the front doors. There were a group of surprised people in the front, as well as several guards, all of whom reacted first with surprise, then brief fear before they were gunned down. Plasma and bullets ended their lives quickly.

A couple guards rushed forward, the Commander raised his Mind Ray and clicked the trigger.

Both fell down, dead.

Trivial how easy psionic technology had made killing.

He motioned for them to continue onward. Barbara stayed put, to kill any stragglers who retreated to the front. They split up, with the Commander and Casaus moving towards the offices of the President and Prime Minister. There was not much resistance expected, which was why splitting up had been judged as an acceptable risk.

The Collective was unlikely to risk themselves for a state not even in the SAS yet.

With each room they passed, they opened or kicked in the doors. Some of the rooms were empty, many of them were not.

A quick and brutal pattern was quickly established. The Commander was able to sense if there were people inside. The Titan armor Casaus wore could also detect life-signs. Plasma rifle shots ended whoever was inside quickly as the Infantry made short work of who was inside, while the Commander simply used the Mind Ray to painlessly eliminate those on his side.

Walls didn't stop psionics.

A dozen guards rushed their position. Their simple ballistic weapons wouldn't have done much to their armor, but the Commander didn't waste time. With a practiced telekinetic movement, the steel balls in his hand shot with lightning speed, blasting through the heads of the guards and ricocheting back and killing those who were spared the first round.

With those he couldn't eliminate in that second, he closed a fist and their hearts exploded. Almost as one, they tumbled to the ground as the steel orbs returned to him, the velocity cleaning them of blood and gore.

They continued inward.

"Commander, this is Mangjol," the psion updated.

He lifted a hand to his ear. "Go ahead. Is there a development?"

"To an extent," she said, as Casaus found and eliminated a few stragglers in hiding. "I've been scanning the city. I've located a number of Zararch Agents. Disguised from what I can tell. Also some Sectoid observers, believe it or not. I took control of a few and put them to sleep. Not sure what we should do with them."

Well, wasn't that a boon. It wasn't a surprise the aliens had a presence here – ADVENT also had for a time, as well as XCOM Intelligence, but they could definitely make use of it here. "Move a few here and to the Parliament," the Commander ordered. "The rest – set them on the population. Extract anything new if you can, and then put them to work."

"Understood, it will be done," a pause. "I've been gathering subjects to disperse the eggs. We are on track to city-wide dispersal."

"Good. Commander out."

They had reached their target zone. With a hand, the Commander sent a telekinetic blast that blasted the doors off their hinges, exposing the President who stood with a half dozen of the Republican Guard who raised their rifles. With a gesture the Commander sent the steel orbs into their skulls while Casaus shot the remainder.

President Arnaud Beka paled when he saw them. "XCOM…"

"Yes," the Commander said. "XCOM."

"Please…" he folded his hands together. "We surrender. Take what you want-" He was abruptly cut off as the Commander closed a fist, the ghost hand around the throat of the President.

"We have what we want," the Commander said, as the eyes of the President bulged. "And you brought this on yourself. You signed the death warrants of yourself and everyone here when you sold out your species to the aliens."

"I…" He choked out.

But the Commander felt his alarm – and panic at that.

But not panic because he was lying. But because the Commander spoke the truth.

"Do not worry," the Commander took a step towards him, speaking quietly. "Your country will endure, and one day it will be a thriving part of ADVENT. But you, nor your band of traitors, will live to see it."

A final closed fist, and his neck snapped, killing him.

The Commander and Casaus stood over the corpses. "You didn't talk to any of the others," Casaus said slowly. "Why him?"

The Commander thought a moment before answering. "Because it is because of him that we are here. Few here are traitors in the outright sense, they deserve nothing but swift ends. But for men like him, I prefer him to know why he died today, and that in his final moments he knows that not only did he fail, he brought down everyone around him, and doomed those he tried to save."

"Huh," Casaus said. "I'll be sure never to try anything like that on you, Commander."

A thin smile appeared on the Commander's face. "Don't worry. I don't expect that to ever be an issue with my soldiers." He patted Casaus's shoulder as he walked by. "We've still got a Prime Minister to find – and after that, a Parliament to finish off. You've done a good job so far. Let's finish this up"

As far as he was concerned, the worst was over. It was always the first kill that was the hardest.

The squad was proving that it was capable.

The Hades Contingency would succeed once more.

Mars Observation Station – Mars Orbit

6/4/2017 – 6:27 A.M.

Clearly, no one had expected them.

Blackbag Squad materialized in the Hangar of the fabled observation station, and wasted no time in opening fire. Geist executed everyone around them with a surprise telepathic attack, while the rest of them opened fire at everything else that moved. Kane specifically targeted the exposed points on multiple starships and vehicles in the Hangar, along with fuel tanks and chemical vats nearby, eliciting more explosions around them.

Their two alien allies, Runi'alion'borelia and Rava'xarian'hegemon also jumped into the fray, with the Borelian shooting the guards at the far end, while Xarian held his massive shield before Sylvia, who was unlocking her box of Shoggoths. A few seconds later and the latch was flipped open, and six of the Shoggoths crawled out.

"Go, my little ones," Sylvia said as they trilled happily. "Be fruitful and multiply, and kill aliens while you're at it." She nodded to Kunio who concentrated, and manifested a portal before them. They knew the Hangar was likely to be vented or otherwise locked down momentarily, and it was important to get the Shoggoths out and into the rest of the station.

One by one the Shoggoths crawled into the portals he created. He had no idea where they probably were in the station, but he suspected that the Collective wouldn't be able to lock all of them down – and the creatures were very sneaky. He was impressed with Sylvia's ability to corral them into the portal, but as she'd said – they were smart.

The lights of the Hanger turned a solid blue, and the airlock behind them opened rapidly, and Kunio immediately felt the pull of the vacuum. "Knight! Anchor!" Geist commanded, and their telekine, Evelyn Knight angled a hand downwards, and Kunio felt like bonds manifested around his ankles, keeping him in place.

Geist focused, psionic power around him, and a massive psionic shield manifested where the airlock barrier had been – and split into the metal around it for good measure. The vacuum vanished, though Kunio wondered if it would hold. The Hangar was silent, only the flickering burning of fuel and bodies sounded.

"I doubt that is all," Geist muttered. "I can maintain the shield. I presume the doors are locked?"

The squad moved towards the main exit, which, unsurprisingly, was locked. "Looks like it," Knight confirmed. "Want me to weaken it."

"Yes, please do so," the massive machine which had also accompanied them said in the familiar voice of JULIAN. The machine was called a SPARK, and it looked rather intimidating – though Kunio wasn't sure if the intimidation factor came down to the actual specifications, or that JULIAN himself was controlling it. "I would wish to break it down."

"Aren't you supposed to prefer hacking things open?" Kunio asked.

"Please, do not stereotype," JULIAN said in an almost offended manner. "There is nothing quite as satisfying as using physical force to beat something into submission. I find there are advantages to having a physical platform."

"And it is your digital skills we desire now," Geist said, still facing the open airlock and maintaining the shield. "Collective systems need to be disrupted. Have you made progress on them?"

"Of course not," JULIAN gave an electronic snort. "This is a military installation, there is no wi-fi here. Find me a port, and I will begin work."

"Understood," Geist said. "Chronicler?"

"Yes?" Their Agent and main teleporter here asked.

"Anything we should be aware of?" Geist demanded. "I'm having issues sensing anything on the station."

"I sense the same," the stone-armored Agent answered. "Possibilities include direct telepathic protection – or the station has incorporated Mosrimor orbs. I cannot tell yet, but it is an issue for us. Not insurmountable."

"Agreed," Geist glanced to Knight who had a hand put on the door. Kunio had never seen another Nanokine at work before, and while it looked like she was doing nothing, he knew the basic gist of what she was attempting to do. Moving things on a molecular level was not something which could be done quickly.

JULIAN's SPARK suddenly turned on a heel. "Sensors detect movement. We are not alone." Without waiting any longer, he raised his laser rifle and opened fire.

The air shimmered. "Operator!" Geist roared as a blue streak out of nowhere slammed into Alion, and the Borelian was just…gone. There was only chunks of armor and meat remaining. The blue streak went back, as Geist erected a second barrier around them. "JULIAN – follow my openings."

"Understood."

Through the shield, Kunio saw it. The black-armored Andromedon Special Operator. They'd known there was likely one near the station – perhaps more. There seemed to be an almost watery blue shield around the form, and it didn't seem remotely perturbed by the shield before it.

"Knight! Hold and focus on the Operator," Geist commanded, as Kunio heard hissing from above, and realized what oxygen was in the room was being drained. The Nanokine stopped her work, and turned as the Operator began channeling their strange powers, and absorbed the firepower JULIAN shot through the breaks in the barrier Geist allowed.

Kunio felt it before he saw it. In the center of their small squad, something akin to a black hole began manifesting. He tried firing at it, but that didn't work, and he didn't expect it to. He didn't know what it was – only that the one in Beijing had done a similar thing – and that he believed that being pulled into it was not a good idea.

Knight was forced to keep them anchored, even as the Operator was using his skills to bring down more damage. Shears of blue corrosive power surrounded JULIAN's frame, and to Kunio's eye it looked like the SPARK was being barraged and ripped apart from every angle, chipping away at his armor and damaging the systems. The nanite repairs were working, but it was using them up fast.

"Releasing the shield!" Geist called, and he dropped the main shield, letting the vacuum return. The Special Operator simply locked in his position, and leapt into the air, locking himself onto the roof and beginning to fire down from the unknown weapon.

"Kunio, get him down from there," Geist commanded, as the singularity that had pulled them seemed to run out. He kept the spherical barrier around them, even though he kept opening for JULIAN to fire from – for what little good that did.

The Chronicler glowed with blue power of his own, and manifested a psionic storm around the Operator, though the Andromedon simply shot all the way across the room with his odd teleporting capability. "They're slippery," the Chronicler muttered. "Minds impenetrable. They are not natural."

"Knight, status?" Geist demanded.

"It's easier if you keep him in one place," the Nanokine grunted. "I have to find him each time. Not easy."

"Alright, Chronicler, focus on protection," Geist stated. "Let Knight do her thing. It seems to want to be targeted. Open fire."

He made the opening larger, so more of them could fire. The barrier around the Operator held, but it likely couldn't take sustained fire. The weapon it fired seemed gauss-based, though very accurate. Kunio himself took a few shots that hit hard, but were mostly superficial. It took him a few more seconds to lock down where he thought the Andromedon was.

One shot. I can do it.

"Geist! I have a lock!" He called.

A nod from the psion. "JULIAN, can you hit it?"

"Of course I can hit it," the AI said in an annoyed voice. "The issue is it's oddly durable shield."

"Not from here," Geist said as he glanced to Kunio. "Close range."

"Close range?"

"Do I need to explain every step?"

"You are aware that Special Operators explode upon death, correct?"

"Of course," Geist said. "Kunio, I presume you are fast enough?"

No choice. "I know – just make it quick!"

"Knight, is it primed?" Geist demanded.

"Yes – do it now!"

"Kunio!"

"Be ready JULIAN!"

Kunio opened the portal directly underneath the Operator, with the output directly next to JULIAN. The Operator fell through and directly in front of the SPARK. JULIAN lashed out with a fist into the face of the Operator, which would normally just send it flying backwards – but instead shattered completely thanks to Knight manipulating the integrity of the suit.

Kunio didn't wait to see if it worked, and manifested another portal he moved through the body and to a random spot somewhere else on the station before immediately closing the portal before any explosion could come through. But he felt the beginnings of it, which told him he'd just barely managed to get it through.

Silence.

Geist dropped the barrier after it seemed they were alone. "Well done Kunio."

"A far too risky maneuver, however, your reaction time was commendable," JULIAN said. "While I am in no danger of permanent death, I cannot say the same for you. I am pleased your impending death is a sufficient motivator to limit mistakes."

Of course a JULIAN compliment sounded backhanded. But he'd take it. "No problem."

"It is unfortunate Alion perished," Xarian stated, looking at the remains of his alien comrade. "However, she perished to one of the most dangerous of the Andromedons. A worthy death."

"Let's hope there aren't more of those," Sylvia muttered. "One was bad enough."

"Let's move further in," Geist said. "Knight, is the door primed?"

"It should be weakened enough," Knight confirmed, stepping away from the door. "JULIAN? I think we should move to somewhere with oxygen."

"A moment, then," Knight moved aside as the massive SPARK stepped forward, and slammed a fist into the door, splintering it into fragile metal shards. All of them marched through, deeper into the station.

"Eyes up and weapons ready," Geist advised as they marched down the hallway. "I doubt that is the worst we will face here."

Near Jakarta Airspace – Indonesia

6/4/2017 – 11:20 A.M.

The Valkyrie tore through the skies, having hit the sonic boom some time ago.

Behind her the small fleet of Firestorms followed.

Sierra wondered if this was how people who previously had been in fights wearing little to no protection felt when putting on armor. The Archangel suit she had once worn seemed so…fragile in comparison to the speed, durability, and power she felt with the Valkyrie now. It was such an upgrade in every possible way it was impossible to describe.

She was faster.

She was stronger.

She was deadlier.

It was beyond the simple feeling of protection, it was also the elevation and extension of herself into the suit which was simply impossible with the Archangel suit. She was the Valkyrie, and she could control every part of it instantly. She had only worn it a few times, yet it felt as natural as her own smaller shell.

It was a bit odd to consider her own body that way.

A shell.

But that was what it felt like.

She finally understood those MECs who said they only really felt normal when in their suits.

Clouds hung over Jakarta, though they were above them now. But they were about to descend into them, and into the warzone that awaited. Or so it would soon become. Jakarta wasn't a true warzone, even if it was an important staging ground. One day the Collective would anticipate an attack.

Hopefully not this day.

"JAVELIN-1 this is STARSCREAM-1, target site is in front of us," Matthew said over the radio. "Prepare to descend."

"Roger, STARSCREAM-1," Massilia Powers said. "SKYWALKER Wing standing by to follow."

"Roger," Sierra confirmed. "Angling for descent momentarily."

She angled her MEC, and a few seconds later broke through the cloud cover and their target city was before them. It was immediately apparent where the Collective had invested resources, mostly into various launch points throughout the city. They were flat, large, and the surrounding buildings had been razed to clear a path for them.

"Targets sighted," she said, automatically marking them with her internal targeting tools and uploading the coordinates to the Firestorm Wings. "Looks to be at least a dozen staging points. Probably more alien targets in the cities."

"Copy that, sending data to ADVENT Wing Command," Matthew said.

"JAVELIN-1, we've got multiple alien ships converging upon our position, from air and ground," Powers interjected. Sierra saw that multiple Sectoid Fighters which were parked on the staging points began lifting up and heading towards them. They were still a good distance from the city, and there was time for a response.

It was still remarkably fast.

Sierra looked up and saw no less than two dozen fighters also descending from above. Probably from the Collective Moon base. That's a lot of fighters. "Will you need support on this?" She asked. "There's a lot of them."

"Nah, Sectoid pilots are trash," Powers assured her. "We've got the skies locked down for now. Keep their attention on the ground. STARSCREAM, we're executing Division Angle one."

"Acknowledged, scatter and snipe them," behind her, the Firestorm wings broke out of formation to better engage the oncoming Sectoid starships as Sierra angled her Valkyrie towards the ground. She was already in the first path of several of the Fighters, who were opening fire with their plasma weapons.

All of the schematics and weaknesses of the fighters were uploaded into her suit and mind, and there was no reason not to try and exploit it. Green plasma fire sprayed around her as she locked onto a vulnerability. With a thought, she launched one of her ClF3 Warheads towards it, and spun underneath the Fighter as it hit directly on, and the hungry chemical began devouring it.

Firestorms above her dove, firing their own weapons and forcing the remaining UFOs to face them. She had a clear shot towards the city, with only the defenses themselves to contend with. There would certainly be many, but she had a good idea of what to expect. She was close enough now she could see alien infantry, Mechtoids, and alien AA defenses aiming towards her.

Unfortunately for them, she was faster. They launched missiles at her, which her laser countermeasures shot out of the sky. She returned fire by releasing a gout of napalm against the defense tower which had tried to kill her. She saw the explosions within, as the tools melted and ordinance exploded.

Hovering in the air, she turned her massive flamethrower towards the ground. Streams of fire hundreds of feet long streamed from the nozzle, cooking dozens of Collective soldiers alive as she moved it back and forth on the staging point. It truly was every capability of the Archangel, amped up tenfold.

Seeing the command center – or what she assumed the command center was – she marked it with her suit, and launched a plasma warhead into it. It exploded with a satisfying boom, and the building crumbled to the ground. Overhead the familiar sounds of Archangels rolled over.

"Didn't bother saving some for us?" Ted demanded, circling her.

Sierra smiled. Things seemed normal already.

"Hold that thought," she said as she looked to the next marked target on her HUD. "We've got a lot more work to do."

Zar'Chon's Chambers, Mars Observation Station – Mars Orbit

6/4/2017 – 6:51 A.M.

It was an interesting feeling, sitting and watching a battle in his own station, while petting a cat which purred in his arms. He felt no fear or concern yet – not really. XCOM had barely managed to penetrate past the Hangar, and had already suffered a loss. The conflict had been highly informative.

Audio wasn't perfectly captured, but enough dialogue had been captured to reveal some illuminating things. An Agent of T'Leth – the Chronicler specifically, two aliens – a Ravager of all things, and a now-dead Borelian, a psion with a micro-kinetic affinity, and a platform housing an AI.

How fascinating.

The teleporter had moved the Special Operator to a different section of the station – fortunately only a storage area, but one which stored weapons. The damage was…extensive in that part of the station, but manageable. It was validating to see that even one Special Operator was a strong match against a full XCOM squad.

The ADVENT Priests were likely to have a harder time of it in the next few months.

The CODEX was tracking all of their movements, and directing personnel as appropriate. XCOM's cute trick of planting Shoggoths throughout the station was clever, but SPECTREs were being dispatched to where each one was presumed to be. Unfortunately, it would likely be some time before they were exterminated.

"They have moved into the station proper," he said, standing and setting the cat down. The hologram of the Overmind stared back at him. Ravarian was not fully comfortable around the enigmatic Elder; there was something fundamentally off about his power in a way it wasn't with Quisilia.

The Overmind wore a deep orange robe, with his arms within and body shrouded. Two glowing orbs of fire looked out from the deep hood. The most disconcerting fact was that he did not speak – not physically. Every sentence he uttered appeared in his mind – which was something Quisilia did all the time.

But the Overmind was nowhere close to the system. He didn't know where the Overmind was currently, but it was hundreds of systems away at minimum. And yet he was capable of finding his mind, and communicating directly to it.

He didn't know why he really gave a verbal update, as the Overmind was doubtlessly reading his thoughts. Habit, presumably.

Activate the Mosrimor Orbs.

Ravarian nodded. "Already done when we noticed the Agent."

Good.

"Should I send the SPECTREs to them?" Ravarian glanced to the video feed. "I would prefer they not penetrate too deeply into the station."

Unnecessary. I will handle XCOM. It is time they understand where they trespass.

"The machine may pose complications," Ravarian pointed out.

One machine can be handled. I would prefer it is captured intact.

"Very well," Ravarian nodded. "I will let you handle it then. The station defenses will continue to stand by."

He turned back to the feed, as the hologram behind him vanished.

He was very interested to see how the Overmind would handle this intrepid XCOM squad.

It promised to be informative.

Mars Observation Station – Mars Orbit

6/4/2017 – 7:07 A.M.

The Collective was not making it easy for them. In each hallway, in each room they entered, there was obstruction every step of the way. From all the doors sealed, forcing Knight to weaken and break them, or he or the Chronicler to move everyone through. The oxygen was being pre-emptively vented out of each room and hallway.

They appeared to have underestimated how controlled the security systems were.

Oxygen was actually a concern, since they were clearly being monitored and predicted.

More to the point, Kunio felt something was wrong. All of them did to some extent.

"There should be something else," Geist muttered as they cleared the small room. "They're shuffling everyone around. We should have encountered more personnel by now."

"Workstations have been disconnected from their network," JULIAN stated, retracting his port tool and standing to his full height. "They are leaving no vulnerabilities. Powering on is useless when the connection has been cut. Clever. They are wise to not allow me a chance to break their system."

"It's clear that they are using Mosrimor's own orbs," the Chronicler said, pacing the room. "I can counteract the worst, and allow us to teleport away. But what I can do is limited beyond that. It is difficult enough holding back the passive influence of a Sovereign."

Sylvia looked up, at an invisible camera – or a visible one, since there were certainly cameras throughout the station. "I feel like we're being led into a trap."

"The mission may be pointless," Kunio wondered. "We can't extract anything useful if they disconnected from the network. The Zar'Chon must be gone at this point."

"Capturing or killing the Zar'Chon was a secondary objective," Geist said neutrally. "We expected this as a possibility. As for data extraction, we are still moving towards the main datacenter. If they are willing to sever the connection, then it will disrupt their data flows Collective-wide here. Stations on Earth will experience it, and they do not want that. If we force that, it will be acceptable. Destroying them is also advised."

At that, Kane fired, permanently taking the workstations offline.

Then it hit him all at once.

It was like a massive pressure had been placed upon his mind; a weight that was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. It was a migraine fare more intense than anything he had ever felt before, a splitting pain that had only one association he could think of.

Telepathy.

He'd never felt a telepathic attack like this though.

The soldiers around him were not faring any better. Sylvia and Xarian had frozen completely, a telltale sign that the Manchurian Restraints had kicked in and were locking their bodies down. The Chronicler gave a shout and waved his hand, and both of them disappeared into a portal, probably back to Earth.

Kunio immediately knew why.

They all knew too much. Whatever was attacking them couldn't learn what they knew.

All it seemed to make Kane was angry, but that didn't stop the Chronicler from moving him back too, leaving only the psions. The Chronicler put a hand to his head, as the pressure and attack intensified. There was an alien mind now; one which touched the outskirts of his mind.

Was that just the prelude?

There were only a small number of Ethereals – or psions for that matter – which had this kind of power. The Imperator – and Overmind.

The mind that extended itself was old.

It felt old.

Kunio blinked through the pain, putting everything he had into protecting his mind from the Ethereal pushing against him. His vision blurred, and when it cleared there stood the orange-robed Ethereal, doing little but appraising them. It was probably an illusion, but Kunio raised his rifle regardless and fired.

The bolts went right through the figure.

Futile. Much like your species.

He had heard the voice of the Overmind described as haunting and almost scratchy. It was the most alien voice he had heard from an alien; it was not welcoming or pleasant, it was the voice of something which did not know what it should sound like; the voice of something which had no mouth to speak.

The pressure intensified, forcing him to place a hand on his helmet to try and alleviate the pressure. Neither the Chronicler or Geist were faring much better, and the latter had power rippling around him. Knight was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily.

Pointless. Your vaunted technology is useless. Your nanoweapons. Your machines. You are reduced to shells through which I can use as I wish. And you believe that we fear you.

The voice was not mocking, just as neutral as stating a fact.

What threat do you pose to us?

"Enough that you had to intervene personally," the Chronicler growled, standing up and blue power enshrining him. "You believe you can challenge a Sovereign and prevail?"

The pressure on his head decreased slightly. The Overmind illusion simply looked to the Chronicler, now fully merged with T'Leth.

Your kind prides itself upon being the dominant, Sovereign. Yet you struggle against me. Endemic of your failings. You are little more than a galactic pest, fleeing and hiding. You are an annoyance to your peers, a forever raging beast incapable of victory or long-term strategy.

The Overmind looked to Geist. Know this XCOM, the time will come when you shall fail, and when it happens, T'Leth will abandon you. He is a Sovereign, and has no interest in preserving anything but himself. As all Sovereigns do.

T'Leth laughed through the Chronicler. "You know nothing of me, Overmind. You and the Imperator fear me, it is why you have not invaded Earth yourselves."

We shall not be goaded into action. We fear no Sovereign, puppet. We have done what no species has before – utilized two Sovereigns to carry out our agenda and will. Why should we fear the dubious claims of another?

"You are a fool," the Chronicler faced the illusionary Overmind. "The Bringer uses you to his own ends. Mosrimor will abandon you when you crumble."

Then we shall not crumble, Sovereign. Flee. You know you cannot stand against my power – not without sacrificing protecting your allies. You have no power here, flee little puppet. Take your pawns with you.

The pressure against his mind redoubled, and he gripped his helmet tighter, trying to alleviate the pressure. It felt like he was getting shot repeatedly in the head. He feared he was nearly ready to pass out.

"Geist," Knight breathed, collapsing to the ground. "I don't know if I can keep him out…" she let out a pained moan. Geist was standing stoically, tense and power rippling around him.

Make your choice, puppet. I know there are things you fear me learning. I will break their minds if they remain. A day, a week, or a month, it matters little to me. Time has no meaning to the immortal. I am the Overmind of the Ethereal Collective, I faced the hordes of the Synthesized. I stood before the combined power of the Hive Commanders.

The orange eyes seemed to glow brighter. You are only a puppet.

"Do not expect the future to be so forgiving, Overmind," the Chronicler growled. "Do not think I don't know how you are empowered now."

I grow tired of this, puppet.

Kunio screamed and could swear he felt his skull crack. He heard something seem to break; klaxons and ringing in his ears as he hung onto his mind by only the barest of threads. Knight joined him in their shared torture. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop.

He saw the Overmind wink in and out of existence, vision become blurry and clear, and everything in the room come into various shades of focus and fluidity. The last thing he saw was the Chronicler turn – was it to him? – and wave a hand and the world blurred around him and he found himself back in XCOM somewhere.

He didn't pay close attention to where.

Kunio just collapsed to the floor, and passed out.

Office of the Chancellor, ADVENT HQ – Switzerland

6/6/2017 – 12:12 P.M.

Saudia sat at the rounded table which had been set up in her office as her foreign guests sat opposite or to the sides of her. To say she was in a good mood would be…slightly inaccurate. But was she in a satisfied mood? That was fair to say. A stark message was being sent across the world because of her actions.

Today would be another message.

"Thank you all for agreeing to speak today," she said, lacing her fingers together as she looked to each of them. Hans Ohlin, Kaisa Saarela, and Kjell Treschow, the Prime Ministers of Sweden, Finland, and Norway respectively appraised her in response. All of them bore stern expressions, and it was no secret that they did not particularly like her.

She'd been fully briefed on each of them long before they had set foot on ADVENT soil. ADVENT Intelligence had put together profiles on them since the beginning, and as the war had gone on, only added more and more to them.

The most 'reasonable' of the three was Kjell, and only because he was heavily influenced by the military. If there was anyone who could be swayed to join ADVENT, it would be him. He didn't approve of many actions ADVENT had taken, but in press conferences he had shown an understanding that the writing was on the wall, and ADVENT was inevitable.

He was the weak link here.

Hans and Kaisa were far more problematic. They were fully convinced that ADVENT was an enemy and were staunchly opposed to joining in any capacity. Even as their respective militaries pushed for something, each of them were firmly opposed to ADVENT. They had in fact internally designated ADVENT as the largest national security threat after Canada had been annexed.

Saudia found it highly ironic considering soldiers of both nations were serving in XCOM specifically. How short-sighted and selfish, and both of them went out of their way to criticize ADVENT domestic policy, and had gone so far as to declare their nations as 'the last bastion of democracy'.

All very amusing. She was only half-surprised they'd agreed to come at all.

The impending economic and civil collapse had doubtless forced their hands.

And people believed sanctions didn't work.

She did not consider herself overly vindictive, she was perfectly willing to work with all of these leaders, but it was a two-way street. If they continued to oppose her, she would be lying if she wasn't going to take some satisfaction as their pride destroyed them. "Of course," Kjell said. "It is past time we met in person."

"Indeed," Kaisa appraised her stone-faced. "You have much to answer for."

So it was going to be like that.

Very well.

"As do you," Saudia nodded. "Explanations are owed all around. You will forgive me for being occupied at times. There is a global war I am managing at the moment; the smaller issues I have been forced to delegate to the ADVENT Diplomatic Service. I hope there is no offense taken at that."

"Your cultured words aren't going to work on us," Kaisa spat. "ADVENT has been waging a systematic campaign of destruction against our nations. And I am not naïve enough to believe it was authorized by anyone other than yourself, Chancellor."

Saudia raised an eyebrow. "Destruction is a strong word, Prime Minister. I have seen destruction. I toured New York yesterday. I've visited the shelled ruins of bases and forts that came under alien bombardment. Can you please elaborate on the destruction ADVENT has wrought on your nations?" She looked to Kjell. "Prime Minister Treschow, has there been an invasion of Norway that has happened without my knowledge? If so, I promise that those responsible will be-"

"Enough, Chancellor," Hans interrupted flatly, eyes staring hatefully at her. "You know exactly what we mean. The sanctions ADVENT imposed. You cut us off from the outside world."

She allowed a smile. "Ah, that. Unfortunate, but necessary. Considering that ADVENT is working to protect the entirety of Humanity, we must consolidate our resources, and nations who refuse to participate in the protection of our species must take second priority." She grew more serious. "I will be blunt with each of you – I do not respect cowards. Every hour there are hundreds of men and women who are dying to ensure we are not living under alien occupation. And you have ensured your nations sit on the sidelines and remain neutral."

"Chancellor, with all due respect, this is not as simple as you make it out," Kjell cleared his throat. "ADVENT has – multiple times – presented us with an ultimatum – join us or be cut off. I have been open to working militarily with ADVENT, but that is not good enough. We must join ADVENT or not at all."

"In essence, what you want is us to protect you, arm you, and not be subject to the regulations and laws of ADVENT," Saudia nodded. "I'm aware of this. It would be one thing if your military was useful, or had a practical use. The militaries of each of your nations would be annihilated against the Collective, and are useless. To make your militaries worth anything, we would need to arm and equip you. You offer us little except manpower, and retain the trappings and norms of the old world. That is not acceptable."

"Forgive us for not wanting to join your new world order," Kaisa narrowed her eyes. "I will say what you are, Chancellor, you are an empire. ADVENT is an empire. You have no interest in protecting Humanity. That is simply a means to an end, you and your imperialist allies only care about the conquest of the rest of the world – willingly or otherwise." She looked around the table. "We all saw it in the Middle East. We saw it in Canada. ADVENT only needs an excuse to conquer. Consent doesn't matter."

Saudia took a breath and rolled up her sleeve to the elbow where the prosthetic ended. "I am unsure where you got your assumptions," she said in a low voice. "But there are few things I take offense to. Stating that I am in this for my own personal ambition, that I do not care about the war which threatens us, is insulting. I have stood against an Ethereal, and the scars on my neck prove it. I was nearly killed in Beijing as the Bringer cult descended upon the city. I have sacrificed in this war. Do not dare suggest otherwise. You have sacrificed nothing. You simply sit and complain, in your place of privilege. You have the luxury of critique and complaining without fear of death, assassination, and failure."

Saudia leaned back. "Your reactionary and juvenile argument does you no credit, and displays your ignorance. I do not know if you know anything about ADVENT, or have elected to ignore it. If you knew even the most basic facts, you would know our rules for annexation and invasion. You would know of the limits of my office. You would know of the Oversight Division. To call us an empire is to show the limits of your worldview; of simple black and white."

Kaisa flushed red, though Hans interjected. "That does not change the fact that your intelligence agencies have free reign to spy on citizens, people are not even given lawyers, and your prison system is utterly inhumane and abhorrent."

Saudia raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And we are better than that," Hans insisted. "You and the rest of ADVENT may not care, but we have some standards for how we view and treat others. You see citizens as commodities and tools. You don't see those you believe as enemies or criminals as even Human. Your only justification is a vague belief in 'the greater good'. We do not agree on a fundamental level, which you either do not understand, or do not want to."

"I certainly understand, Prime Minister," Saudia answered coolly. "And I do not dispute anything you say. However, I feel far more confident in defending myself with data and logic than the moralistic foundations of your own arguments. I accept we disagree, and I firmly believe that you are simply wrong." She cocked her head. "ADVENT, if you have not noticed, is doing as well as can be expected. We are aggressively eliminating homelessness. We are dropping crime significantly. We have provided healthcare, education, and shelter to all. We have done something no government has done in the history of our species. You may not agree with our philosophy, Prime Minister, but it is working."

She leaned forward. "I have resolved to bring all of Humanity into the modern age, and I will do it even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming."

"Enough, this is pointless," Kjell sighed, lifting a hand. "We are here to discuss issues. Philosophy can be debated later, there are more practical problems and differences to resolve."

"I agree," Kjell being a voice of reason again. "I do not want to continue the sanctions. So what I wish to know is what it will take for you to join ADVENT. I do not particularly care for any of you, but that will not prevent me from making a deal which services Humanity and the war effort."

"Remove the sanctions, first and foremost," Kaisa immediately demanded. "And we will work with you. I, nor any in Finland, will join ADVENT. I will also insist that there is a binding agreement between us and ADVENT stating that there will be no infringement on our sovereign nation, and the agreement we come to is fully honored."

Well, she was certainly ambitious. "And in return, what do we get?" Saudia asked.

"Proving ADVENT is not heartless and willing to drive a nation to collapse to satisfy their petty, childish tantrum that not everyone bows down to your empire?" She sneered, all veneer of composure gone. Not fully surprising, her mental state had worsened as riots were starting, and she was reluctant to tighten military control.

She was under a lot of stress.

Saudia was trying not to take it personally.

"Noted," was all Saudia said in a calm voice. "Though I doubt our diplomats will be inclined to accept."

"Mine are the same," Hans said. "However…I will be willing to bring it to a vote. On the matter of ADVENT statehood. If ADVENT shows it is willing to negotiate, it may sway them. We are willing to allow diplomats to come and make their case before the legislature."

"You give a hollow promise," Saudia said bluntly. "Do you believe I am ignorant? A vast majority of your legislature has condemned ADVENT – many in the past month – and have stated their intentions to prevent your 'assimilation into ADVENT' as they call it. Clever, but I listen to what my Intelligence agency tells me."

His face was stony. "That is the best I can do. It would be democratic malpractice to unilaterally bring a nation into ADVENT without even so much as a vote."

"Then have one," Saudia said. "The United Kingdom agreed to one, and they respected the will of the people. I am not unreasonable, if you wish to put it to a vote, then by all means do so. I will ensure that it is accepted, and the sanctions are lifted."

"And then interfere in it!" Kaisa interjected. "We know that is what you will do."

"Of course we will," Saudia snorted. "We have an invested interest in the outcome. But I can assure you that it will be fully within the confines of the law. If more people are receptive to our sponsored messaging, is that not a problem with the opposition? Do you insult the intelligence of your voters so much that you believe they will vote based on incomplete information and not do their proper research for such an important decision?"

Kaisa gaped. Saudia smiled.

Go on, say it. I know you want to.

"A vote is out of the question," Hans disputed with a shake of his head. "Not with the state of the nation. We are willing to bring it to a legislative vote and consider a vote if the legislature votes against ADVENT statehood. But not for months."

Not expected from either of them. Unfortunate, but it was past time something was done. Saudia clicked a button on the table, and focused on Kjell. "And what of you, Prime Minister?"

Kjell ran a hand through his hair. "We disagree fundamentally on many issues, Chancellor. However, we are reaching a point where the current posture is unfeasible. The aliens are the largest threat to all of us, and we are not prepared. Our nation is not prepared. I agree with my colleague that I cannot unilaterally bring our nation into ADVENT, but I see no choice here."

He looked to his colleagues. "ADVENT has done us a service, even if it has just been to distract the aliens. They have prevented the war from reaching us, but that will not last forever."

"They've waged economic warfare on us instead!" Kaisa insisted. "Is that somehow better?"

"Of course they did," Kjell snorted. "They don't think like we do. It's a matter of pragmatism for them. I know very well why they did it, and by their logic, it makes sense. I would never condone it, but I suppose it has worked, and beyond that, we cannot continue to sit on the sides doing nothing."

He looked at Saudia. "Fine. Show me ADVENT is reasonable. Remove the sanctions – actively provide us with enough food, medicine, and supplies to make up for your months of starvation, and the moment that is signed, I will call for a referendum on ADVENT statehood and simultaneously introduce legislation asking the same thing. I cannot guarantee success for you in either, but I will give ADVENT a fair case to make to my citizens."

At last, a reasonable person. Saudia nodded. "We can accommodate that. It will be done within the day, and approved by the time you return to Norway."

"Kjell, ADVENT isn't going to play fair," Hans warned. "You've effectively given them control of your country."

The Prime Minister sighed. "The world is changing. I have to do what is best for my citizens. If they choose to join ADVENT, then I have to respect that. Resisting change is failing, and the aliens will come. I will not have my nation become an alien stronghold because I clung to something that is dying."

"Very well," Hans looked to Saudia, not bothering to hide his disgust. "We have made our own demands clear, take them or leave them."

"Understood," Saudia responded. The door to the room suddenly opened, and an aide came up to her, phone in hand. "Excuse me for a second," the aide handed her the phone.

A single sentence sounded. "It's in motion. Conference is on now for both. Glad the Norwegian did the right thing."

A click as he hung up.

"Are we done, Chancellor?" Hans asked.

She smiled. "Almost, I've received an update I think all of you should see."

She stood and walked over to the hanging television, and it was right on a news station, where the breaking news banner displayed the latest development in all its glory.

SWEDISH MILITARY ASSUMES CONTROL OF LEGISLATURE/FINNISH MILITARY HAS DECLARED A STATE OF EMERGENCY/LEGISLATORS OF BOTH NATIONS UNDER HOUSE ARREST/LAW ENFORCEMENT RUMORED TO BE SUPPORTING MILITARY ACTION

Kaisa paled. Hans grew red and stood, almost shaking in rage. Kjell just looked to her, a clear question in his eyes.

Saudia just maintained her smile.

"The Supreme Commander of the Swedish Military is preparing to make a statement," the anchor was saying. "We're going live to that now."

Supreme Commander Astrad Dahlman stood in front of a podium, all of the ranking officers of the Swedish military behind or beside him. His face was somber, but his voice firm as he spoke in words which were immediately translated. "[Citizens of Sweden, it is with a heavy heart that the actions we have taken today have been necessary, but for the past months we have seen our country descend further into chaos, with an inefficient legislature who lacks a clear understanding of the current difficulties, both within and beyond the country.]"

"[We have been told that the greatest threat to our nation is not the aliens who threaten life and freedom for all Humans, but ADVENT, who has devoted themselves to fighting this extraterrestrial menace. We have attempted many times to emphasize the threat of the Ethereal Collective, to little or no avail. We cannot afford to wait any longer. When the aliens come to Sweden, we must be prepared to face and defend them. Our leaders have failed us, but we will not fail you, and we are immediately opening negotiations with ADVENT for aid relief and arms to defend our nation.]"

[We request that the Prime Minister and all current sitting members of the administration formally resign today, and help ease this transition process.]"

Saudia noticed Hans storming over to her, and with a blur of his hand, slapped her across the cheek, utterly quivering with rage and fists clenched, even as he realized what he had done. Kaisa just sat in her chair, still as a statue and with a look of pure disbelief on her face.

Saudia rubbed her cheek. "I'll allow that one, former Prime Minister," she said quietly. "But I would advise you not to do that again."

"You…you…" words failed him.

"I did nothing," she told him. "But it is certainly heartening to see that some in your country have a firmer grasp of the big picture than the supposed leaders of a nation." She softened her voice. "But I wouldn't worry. You'll see in the future that what you fear from ADVENT isn't true. ADVENT will bring your nation prosperity, and even if it takes you years to see it, you will know it was the right thing to do."

She had her gaze sweep to the other two. "Now if you will excuse me, it appears I have several nations to speak to – and likely a couple to welcome into ADVENT. Prime Minister Kjell, I look forward to working with you in the coming weeks."

He just nodded, still as stunned as the rest of them, likely thinking of how close he might have just come to a military coup.

Saudia left the current and former heads of state in the room to themselves. They could stay there as long as they wanted, her work was done.

And it was certainly fine work, if she did say so herself.

Palace Exterior, SAS Command – Nigeria

6/4/2017 – 9:12 A.M.

This was definitely one of the largest press conferences Betos had ever done. Every single permitted outlet was here, and there would doubtless be dozens more across the Internet and ADVENT. There was no chance that ADVENT would not be watching them, and just waiting to see what her reaction was.

Mox and her other advisors stood beside or behind her, with a line of SAS Soldiers before and behind, and at various checkpoints on the premises. She didn't know what there was to fear yet, but it was almost certain that ADVENT would try and do something. Prior to the expulsion, Macula and the Zararch had done sweeps removing or eliminating XCOM and ADVENT Intelligence agents and sources, which she'd continued with the fledgling SAS Intelligence, though she knew it might not have been as effective.

There were unlikely to be a sudden influx of agents, at least not dangerous ones. Or enough that her people couldn't catch them. But it only took one, and by the end of today they'd have Collective support once more.

Time to start.

"ADVENT has launched a nuclear strike against Lagos," she began somberly. "We are still assessing the damage, but the casualties are already in the tens of thousands. We expect the numbers to rise as we begin cataloging the dead."

Saudia liked showing images in her conferences to make a point. Betos only felt it appropriate to emulate. Let the ADVENT networks censor her and see how many took note. A screen nearby showed the collected images. "Lagos was not a military target," she said as the many journalists and reporters fixated on the slideshow. "It was a thriving city, growing only more prosperous. Millions of people lived there. Families, women, children. Civilians."

She took a long sigh. "There isn't much that can be said. ADVENT has crossed a line that they have not before, which is surprising even to admit. Through this action they prove that their rhetoric is a lie. They are willing to target and kill anyone who they identify as an enemy, be they soldier or civilian. They do not make the distinction, and never have."

Betos looked around the area. "I've prided myself and the SAS as being willing to hold even our allies to account. When Isomnum terrorized Beijing I supported the Collective in condemning them. When they indiscriminately bombarded ADVENT, and the Harbinger Trask attacked civilian cities, I took action. None of this mattered to ADVENT. I and the SAS have aligned with the Ethereal Collective, and ADVENT does not consider us Human. We are and will remain traitors to them forever. Perhaps, in my naivety, I believed ADVENT could understand context; perhaps they could respect our choice."

She bowed her head. "If this is not clear evidence that dissent and wrongthink is not tolerated in ADVENT, I do not believe anything will. They are not interested in coexistence, or peace, or tolerance. They only care about submission and control. Those who stand against them will be beaten into submission or exterminated." She raised her head back up.

"It is time the world decides to take a stand. ADVENT has made their intentions clear. We stand opposed to ADVENT, and we will no longer be idle in bringing them to defeat," she paused. "The Collective remains our ally, and has offered to provide assistance to the devastated city, which I have accepted. I will emphasize that I and the SAS will continue to hold our ally to account, but make no mistake – the Ethereal Collective is our ally, and we will need them to stand strong against the tyranny of ADVENT."

There was an actual smattering of applause at that. The people here were torn between shell-shocked and furious. Some had tears in their eyes, and it wasn't out of the question that some had people living in Lagos. "The Chancellor has-"

A gunshot sounded.

Betos instinctively ducked behind the podium and the crowd burst into pandemonium, with people dropping to the ground and fleeing. She pulled out her pistol and cursed the fact she wasn't wearing armor. Her guard marched up and completely surrounded her. One gave her a bullet-proof helmet which she put on.

A few more shots rang out, and Betos saw the lone gunman from far back, who was now standing before Macula, who had emerged and had frozen him with a hand. Soldiers rushed the man, forcing him to the ground and cuffing him. Macula vanished, probably searching for any more assassins.

"Marshal…" one of the guards said quietly, and directed her to the ground near the podium.

Her heart and blood froze when she saw him.

No, no…

Mox lay sprawled on the ground, dead and in a puddle of bright red blood by his head. The bullet had been a direct hit into his temple, and there was not much left. He'd probably died instantly, but that was no comfort to her right now. All she could think of now was her movements before the shot.

The assassin had to have been aiming for her, and he'd missed.

And hit Mox instead.

She fell to her knees and placed one hand on one of the now-still hands, gripping it. They'd been together for so long, both of them starting on this journey since the beginning. She had imagined that whatever would happen to one, would happen to both. He'd been with her every step of this difficult, painful, and harsh journey.

It would be one thing if he died in battle, against an enemy. But…not like this. Not by a cowardly assassin. Not by accident. Not because of her.

She closed her eyes, and the tears welled up underneath.

She had to go on.

That was what he would want.

But for this, and all of their atrocities, ADVENT would pay dearly.

Medical Bay, Mars Collective Base – Mars

6/4/2017 – 8:12 P.M.

"What's wrong?"

Hallian didn't hear her at first. He was too focused on the tablet in his hand, reading the projected words and video playing. The last hours had been a whirlwind, from the attack against the Observation Station, to attacks all around the world, to now…this. He was even hearing rumors that a Sectoid shipyard had been attacked of all things.

What was happening?

It shouldn't be happening like this. It shouldn't be happening at all.

"Hey," a hand rested on his shoulder, the tactile touch letting him look up at Yang's concerned face. He didn't know how he looked right now. Probably terrible. "What's wrong."

He shook his head. "What isn't wrong seems to be the question."

"Considering the past day, I don't disagree," Yang sat down beside him. "But I can feel when something is wrong. For you personally."

"I checked news on Vitakar," Hallian said. "I usually do. I saw this." He handed the tablet to her. It might take her a few minutes to go through everything, so he leaned back and closed his eyes as she scrolled, read, and watched everything which had come out of the planet in the past day.

Just…why?

If there was any race who absolutely did not deserve to be targeted and killed, it was the Dath'Haram. Yes, they were often derided as pacifists and idealists, but they were all used to it at this point, and even took it as a point of pride. But if anything was known about their people, it was that they were open, friendly, and peaceful.

It…didn't make sense.

The Nulorian had always hated them, and he didn't know why. Just because they were peaceful citizens? Because they supported the Elders? Because the Nulorian wanted to wipe the Dath'Haram out of some horrific genocidal justification? This level of senseless hatred was anathema to everything any normal sapient being should believe.

Nulorian were terrorists, or so they were said, but he'd believed that some of them had reasons that could be understood. The Zararch could certainly be overzealous, but even if he could never condone terrorism, he could understand how they reached that point. But this was just too far of a line.

Had the Nulorian done anything worse than this?

He heard Yang set the tablet down. "I'm sorry."

"I just wonder…why?" He said. "What did we do to them?"

Yang pursed her lips, looking ahead. "Nothing. You just existed."

"And that is reason to kill us?" He demanded.

"To them, simply living is worse than nothing," she said quietly. "We've had our own share of radicals and terrorists in the world. Their worldview becomes so…warped that they become something they're supposedly fighting against. The Nulorian seem to have reached this point."

She sighed. "I'm not educated on your world. Or people, not truly. I don't know what this means beyond the obvious, but I know that the deaths of thousands is wrong."

"More will die in the fires," Hallian shook his head. "Burning the forest is…difficult to describe to an alien. Or even a non-Dath'Haram. I grew up in that forest, it is teeming with unique life not seen anywhere else in the galaxy. We've melded with the forest, a true symbiotic relationship. It takes care of us and we do the same to it. To burn it – to attack it – is an attack on my whole people."

He rarely felt true anger. But he did feel it now.

"What will your people do?" She asked.

"What little we can," Hallian shrugged. "I can guess. We will rebuild. We will repair. But…so many have died. Our leaders were targeted. Many perished. I don't think we can forgive or forget…not this time."

"You will fight?"

"I don't know," he was silent a few seconds. "That is my instinct. That is what many I think will feel. We keep being targeted. Our schools, our leaders, our children, even the Crypt was attacked. The Nulorian keep coming after us, even when we have done nothing to them." He looked at Yang helplessly. "How long can we go before we do something? We don't have enough Bladedancers to protect us, clearly. We abhor war, but is our pacifism any better?"

Yang looked at her hands. "You are not asking the right person for that. I'm not a pacifist. Never have been. Never made sense in this world. Or this galaxy, I guess."

"Unfortunately," he said in a heavy voice. "I think you may be right."

"What are you?" Yang asked.

"I don't know right now," he admitted. "I joined to save lives, to lessen the suffering of this war, even by a miniscule amount. I said I will never kill. Out of values I believed in; ones that were taught and I saw every day." He let out a short bitter laugh. "And I wonder if those ever mattered. It doesn't matter if we believe in something better if we can't stop ourselves from getting killed by people who laugh at our beliefs."

Yang just nodded. "I think a lot of people are reevaluating what they believe as this war keeps going on."

"Including you?"

"Yeah," she looked to him; eyes distant. "All I wanted was revenge and now that's…nothing now." She looked away, shrugging. "I don't even hate ADVENT. Or XCOM. I hate the Imperator more than them for what he's allowed and continues to allow."

Hallian stiffened as she said that, and Yang shook her head. "No one is listening here. And I'm tired of lying. This whole war…what we're up against…" her legs moved idly on the seat. "I don't know anymore."

He wasn't sure what to really think of how open the Battlemaster's Harbinger was being. They were certainly friends now – a surprise, but not necessarily an unwelcome one – and it was clear she was not as happy or content as he would expect. He wasn't fully sure how best to read Humans beyond the obvious, but she wasn't a typical one.

She's away from her people, surrounded by aliens, and caught up in something she doesn't even believe in. Of course she's not typical.

"Then…" he wondered how to choose his words. "What are you fighting for now, if not victory?"

She propped her chin under a fist, and gave it some thought for a few seconds. Her eyes stared ahead sightlessly, the light of the room shining off her darkened skin with an almost shimmering coloration to it. The words that came were halting, but with conviction behind them.

Words she meant.

"Change," she looked at him. "And change will come. One way or another."

To be continued in Chapter 63

Sever the Head

A/N: Well, there's been a little while since the last update, and quite a few things that are worth highlighting since that point that I'm not sure I've mentioned before. If you haven't, be sure to check out the two spin-off stories for this series that I and the Editing Team have gone over, which are OfficialWeedTester's XCOM: New Blood, which follows Dawn Conley and her journey joining XCOM, and Areleh's XCOM: Pantheon Rising, which follows the origins, foundation, and exploits of the Pantheon.

Second, you have probably noticed that there has been some actual cover art for the trilogy (Yes, not just Advent Directive), which was made by HailtotheKing who has been making emblems and seals for the series. There's also been artwork done of various characters from artists I've commissioned. I unfortunately can't post them here because FF is a horrifically outdated site, but I have compiled several galleries which has everything – you will have to take out the spaces, unfortunately. If the links don't come through, my profile also has these same links which are complete:

Cover Art: img ur a/7WzAd07

Seals and Emblems: img ur a/FEetyZ4

ADVENT Legions: img ur a/X43XiuO

Character Artwork: img ur a/S35C6Pi

Third, Aberron is the newest member to join the Editing Team, and I'm very much looking forward to his impact on this project going forward.

Thanks for reading, as always. There is likely to be interesting stuff that will be happening in the future as well. When anything does, I'll be sure to make a note here.

A final thing to say is that the COVID-19 pandemic is continuing to spread pretty fast across the US, and the rest of the world for that matter. Please be sure to take precautions, wash your hands, don't go to work if sick, and stay in for a few days to limit the spread. I am aware that this isn't feasible for everyone, but please do what you can to take care of yourself, and the others around you.

- Xabiar