"Man, I hate my job, sometimes."

For a facility that had been abandoned for several thousand years, it was in shockingly good shape. Good shape, of course, being a relative term in this context.

To Emily, this place had devolved into a rusted shitheap. Its very existence was exceptional in and of itself, though, especially considering it hadn't been hardened to last through the years.

To that end, while the structure was intact, there was much to repair, hence why she was buried up to her arms in electrical wiring. Kamabo, for all their reputation, did tend to skimp out on their construction budget.

Still though, what a blast from the past!

She never thought she'd be doing this kind of work again. With Kamabo, though, that was something else entirely.

Even back when humanity still walked the Earth, Emily had always felt rather uneasy of that group. As a company, there was little to actually base those feelings off of, more of, just a gut instinct. The stuff they cooked up in their labs was simply incredible, and yet, the group that made it…

She'd worked with them in the past as a contractor on occasion, owing to her more permanent position as Borealis' lead engineer. Through this, she found herself having an oddly close relationship with the corporation.

At least, for someone who was a complete outsider.

A lot of their employees, frankly, were brilliant, far more than her. Nice enough too, but they had always been… guarded, for lack of a better term.

She had assumed it was just the pressure of the job and whatever NDAs they were under, but that was before she woke up twelve millennia later and everything ended up clicking into place. If she was one of the great minds that built those destructive AIs and primitive methods of bending spacetime, she would have been rather ornery as well.

After what she'd seen and learned? Perhaps it was best that they weren't around to see what their 'children' had gotten up to.

Regardless, this whole mess reflected rather poorly on those scientists. Even with the best minds of a generation, they hadn't thought to put failsafes into their sentient and experimental AI, and after spending some time in this production facility, she was beginning to think the higher ups were far from benevolent.

Who else could she blame? This place was certainly built by human hands, yet was inhospitable in ways she did think were possible.

This specific Kamabo facility was a small manufacturing complex, first and foremost, old-school Kamabo, not whatever corruption had overtaken whatever laboratory complex that had been corrupted into the Metro. Built by human hands.

Built by the same hands that ultimately spawned Daedalus. In some cases, she was the pair of hands that maintained these machines.

…Sometimes, she just didn't like being human.

But now, she was far too deep. She had to see this to the end. Not that this made her much better than the worst of her species. She just…

Why couldn't things just be simple?

She had to keep telling herself what they did to her friends back at Borealis, but that kept ringing more and more hollow every time she thought about it.

Ugh. Just what the hell did she end up getting herself into?

Whatever. Work comes first, and boy, did she have some work to do.

Kamabo had never brought her to a facility like this. One that was so… autonomous, for lack of a better term. They had dabbled in robotics, she knew that, but to the extent she was seeing here?

As Daedalus guided her through the complex, she kept seeing all sorts of strange… oddities. Racks of robotic components in seemingly random places, doorways marked with QR codes instead of human-readable text, among other things.

None of them could be explained away by noospheric anomalies, those mildly inconveniencing patches of zero-gee and blobs of fire and whatnot that littered the world. It was all very human, very manufactured.

(Come to think of it, when was the last time she'd seen an anomaly, since the 'Metro'? She could've sworn they weren't just relegated to there.)

Part of her was wondering if this place had been built by AI. The upper echelons of the company were redacted from public record, and a few conspiracies she found deep in the web had posited quite a few insane ideas, but perhaps they held some merit?

Regardless, it had given her something to work with. The problem was, however, that these hadn't been hardened to last for millenia. The fact everything was still mostly intact was a miracle unto itself, but there was so much to repair and get operational. Daedalus had retreated into the inner bowels of the facility, doing who knows what while leaving her a to-do list of what systems needed to be brought online.

Emily was more or less alone, but it was rather nice, in truth.

She had found an old storeroom with tools and parts, no doubt left for emergency repairs done by humans, and soon enough, lost herself in the repair work. This was her zone, something she enjoyed greatly.

Honestly, something she liked doing, for once. Daedalus not being in her ear commenting on her every move was an added bonus, too. This was the most she had been relaxed in a long while. With how far they had traveled to get here, any retaliatory force had to be a long way out, and good luck getting here without prior knowledge of the location.

Anyway, her work - currently, she was tinkering with the facility's geo-thermal power plant.

Most facilities had these, especially Kamabo ones, with their redundancies and other strange bits of bullshit that the company would add. Bore a hole down far enough, and it'll get incredibly hot. Hook that heat up to a glorified swimming pool, let the steam spin a turbine, and you'll get enough power to keep the lights on.

Granted, it wasn't a lot of power, especially with the small-scale geothermal operations these facilities had, but Kamabo was oh-so-conveniently at the forefront of electricity efficient electronics development.

With external connections to energy cut off, this was their only real source of power they could rely on. They had the zapfish hooked up at the moment to act as a stopgap solution, but it was only enough to power emergency lights and maybe an assembly line or two. Even with energy-efficient machinery, the scale of the operations here was beyond its substantial power output.

Still impressive for such a small pipsqueak of a fish, honestly.

Real interesting, actually. It had been dunked in a makeshift tank connected haphazardly to the power-grid, and had been watching her work away at the geothermal plant. It had to be a product of some noospheric ramifications, the same way the Aberrants no doubt were, but that would imply a whole bundle of uncomfortable realities. What part of humanity's death knell had caused its rapid and counterproductive evolution?

Maybe once this was all over, she could write a research paper about it?

Then again, who would be around to read it? Doubly so if she and Daedalus were successful. She really needed to stop thinking about that. She was committed, whether she liked it or not. Murder was already a sin her soul was heavy with.

Emily Hawthorne was gonna finish the goddamn job, and nobody would have to worry about stupid research papers ever again!

She knew that within the zapfish's stupid little head there was no thought, but it kept staring at her, and she didn't like it.

Yeah. Um. Back to the geo-thermal plant.

It was still in decent condition, but many of the wires had burned out over the years, reducing its output considerably. It was a downward spiral of everything coming apart over a stupidly long time - with nobody around to replace the wires and fix things up (or machine error), even the redundancies of the redundancies would stop working.

Absurdly efficient electronics and limited, autonomous repair mechanisms won't do much against the unstoppable march of time. All it took was a few errors to start a downward spiral into non-functionality.

Luckily, time wasn't too cruel to this place. With a bunch of wires still functional, she could totally jury-rig something together with enough electrical tape and solder. It wouldn't be steady power, and it wouldn't be long-term power, but it'd be enough to get whatever Daedalus needs done here done. Fears aside, she was almost excited to see what this place was truly capable of. After all, this was old-school Kamabo, not the eldritch horror its remains had transfigured into. Whatever mechanical secrets it held, she wanted to know.

Emily just had to fix the plant first.

She was replacing much of the burnt cabling, more acting on instinct rather than any real plan. Watch out for voltage and amp ratings on the cables, replace what looked to be broken, and from there, cross her fingers. It took concentration, but that damn fish kept burning a hole in the back of her head-

"Will you stop that!?" she snapped, throwing down her tool and glaring back at the zapfish, which stared back with glassy eyes. The silence was deafening.

"Uh, sorry…" she reached around, grabbing her tools and getting back to work, "Just been a rough few weeks, y'know?"

A few bubbles surfaced from the Zapfish's tank, a slight bump as it nudged against the glass.

Emily was back to the mess of cables, arms deep to reach the further back components.

"Just a normal day at work, then in a matter of hours, the world has ended. No warning, just everything drowned under the flood. It was a day like this, almost. Just regular maintenance, then bam! Nothing will ever be the same."

It was just… even now it still brought an uncomfortable slurry of emotions to the surface, but not without reason. It had only happened a few weeks ago, and frankly, the only thing keeping her going was spite and stubbornness that refused to let her lie down and die. If that wasn't humanity for you, then she didn't know what was.

Even with that stubbornness, they had reached their limit. It had quickly become clear they couldn't wait out the Flood, not with their dwindling food supplies, so with their mechanical know-how, database bluepritns and remaining parts, their cryo-preservation project was born.

"We thought it would work, right? Put in reasonable safeguards, set up some Wardens to watch over everyone, and when things stabilized, we'd come out. Apparently, our calculations were off."

The hope had been for them to be able to come out of stasis once the flood had receded, but that never happened, and she had no idea why. It could have been an issue with the Warden AI, maybe the cryopods, or God knows what other factor, but it wasn't as if she had a chance to check when they finally did wake up.

It was why she had survived what had gone down at Borealis. A small force of Inklings had broken into the remnants of the research facility and somehow cut off power to their own cryogenic array. The sudden flash-thaw had killed everyone and almost did her in. There were thousands of redundancies they could have put in place, but the limited resources they had shot those plans down, and that made everything feel worse.

How she survived, she still didn't know. Not long after, everything went to hell in a handbasket.

She had been able to repel them from the facility, but not without the aging structure collapsing in on itself.

"But, that's the high and low of it, I guess. So yeah, it's…" she blinked, coming back to her senses. What the hell was she doing, talking to a fish like this?

…Meh, she'd allow it, considering the circumstances. Venting to a stupid-looking fish wasn't the worst thing in the world, especially since she didn't exactly have access to a therapist right now, or anyone she could really speak to. Daedalus was less of a conversationalist, and more of a brute, fuck spilling her guts to that thing.

"Well, thanks for listening."

Honestly, she was starting to like the zapfish, she had forgotten what it was like to talk to something and not be interrupted every five-

"Engineer Hawthorne!" Daedalus shouted over the facility PA system.

She accidentally snapped a wire, annoyance coursing through her. She was just starting to get into the groove of things here.

"What!?" she shouted back, just as loudly. The zapfish warbled from its tank, visibly flinching out of the corner of her eyes.

"The geothermal plant remains offline. Do you have an ETA for repairs?"

"Probably a few hours, but we have auxiliary power back through my fish. What's the rush?"

Out of everything she was expecting, the AI let loose a horrid torrent of profanity and static.

"In that case, we do not have enough time, Engineer Hawthorne! Proximity sensors have indicated that THE PROTOPLASMIC FUCKS FOLLOWED US!"

Emily winced as Daedalus shouted even louder over the facility's PA system, the shockingly clear audio accentuating the panicked tone his voice had taken, something wholly unfamiliar to her. She didn't know the AI could feel those emotions.

Then again, Daedalus did sound like it felt a lot of things. Mostly anger, if all the shouting was any indication.

The actual words of the message hit her. Proximity sensors? Followed?

Wait. Already? Oh, shit!

She got up from her work on the plant, heartbeat quickening.

They had already been found out? How was that even possible?

"What do you mean, 'followed us'? You said they wouldn't be able to get through the storm!"

"DON'T SASS ME, LADY. THEY FIGURED OUT HOW UMBRELLAS WORK, FUCK IF I KNOW!" it shouted back, unsteady.

"Shit, okay. I'm on my way!"

It was unnerving to hear the AI sound so unnerved, doubly so as she ducked and weaved through maintenance passageways. She was sticking to the few maintenance passages built for humans, but even these felt barebones and unsafe. Too exposed to the machinery that was meant to pulsate and pump, to conform and bend material to the whims of their creators.

Machinery that was already coming back to life, sluggish, but alive. Either that zapfish was outputting a lot more power than earlier, or Daedalus found an alternative.

Now, it was her turn to be on the backfoot, to play defense. She was one woman against what she presumed to be a platoon of soldiers. No doubt after her attack they would send nothing else, logistics be damned. Even if their weapons weren't inherently lethal to her, they had the numbers to take her down, and all it took was one to get through and wreck everything. She had the home turf, for once.

"Do you have a plan or something? What's this great work of yours gonna be worth if I go down here?" she asked. They needed more time, and it was up to Emily to buy it.

"I have a plan, but… Facility system power levels… Capacitors…" the AI mused, seemingly deep in thought.

"What the hell even is it-"

Daedalus let out the closest AI equivalent to a frustrated shout, "BAH! FUCK IT ALL! There's no time! We're going with Plan B! Hawthorne, disconnect and bring YOUR STUPID-ASS FISH TO THE ASSEMBLY LINE, NOW!"

Emily spluttered. "But that'll-"

"We're only going to have one shot, Hawthorne, and that Zapfish will be what'll get us through this. Get moving!"


Tamarin considered herself a cautious woman.

However, caution to her was more along the lines of 'be careful around the malfunctioning hydraulics,' or 'ensure the Octo Shower's control tentacle won't go rogue on us;' her only experience with people was schedule management and ensuring her subordinates didn't cause a shop accident.

Unfortunately, such skills didn't translate well to military operations, but evidently the Council thought otherwise.

Them, and the small gaggle of highly augmented Takozonesu special forces currently staring her down, awaiting orders.

She thought they would have been smart enough to appoint actual commanders, rather than an old engineer who had brushed up against an Ancestor. The Takozonesu had the field experience, but Tamarin knew they were more there to keep her on the Council's chain; they wouldn't have appointed a known Octavio sympathizer like her without insurance.

And shell, they were definitely good insurance. They creeped the shell out of her, amongst other things. They once may have been loyal to Octavio, but the Council had sunk their claws in well; they were not excluded from the revamp of Octarian military doctrine and equipment.

And by Cod, they were almost unrecognizable from what they once were.

Back in Octavio's day, the farthest any Octarian would get from being, well, Octarian was in the wake of the Calamari Inkantation - most of the Canyon's front-line units were suddenly equipped with glasses that provided all manner of "useful tactical information," which Tamarin knew full well was just code for "abusing the unevolved parts of your brain to brainwash you with fancy lights."

In hindsight, it was both a terrible and practical idea. What else would you do, if your army could be shut down in one fell swoop by two Inkling idols playing some music? Headphones could be hacked, communications could be hijacked, but the mind could be a stalwart defense, if it was conditioned correctly.

And, in practice, it got results. Octavio nearly had a win against Inkopolis, for once. The war could've been over. The Inklings could've been brought to the diplomatic table, and the rest of Octarian society could've been free. Here's your stupid celebrity back, now let us find some nice unclaimed land to set up our first surface city at, please?

Oh, the things one well-placed charger shot can do, though.

The mayhem that followed was a mess. Octavio vanished, defections skyrocketed, Tamarin's connections saying Inkopolis was facing a small refugee crisis as ex-Octarian soldiers tried everything they could to get into the city. A small civil war even ensued, expert Canyon marksmen getting to work deprogramming their fellow soldiers and making their escapes to Inkopolis.

But now, with the Council's arrival, and the technology they brought with them…

In days, all Octariankind was brought to heel. In months, the Society came to be.

In a year, the Society was ready for war, under a new, much more terrifying doctrine, one that saw fit to upstage Octavio on both moral and immoral grounds.

On the moral front, all manner of propaganda was relaxed and removed - read: replaced and improved - to help the Society come to terms with the new Dome order. Simultaneously, the Council freed you from Octavio's grip on your mind, and the Council officially denied the hypnotics program and its developments never existed in the first place, blaming undefined 'dissenters' playing 'long games of telephone' for all these anti-Council falsehoods.

Everybody who served in the Canyon knew it was sharksquit, but when highly-trained and highly-equipped Elites started replacing the less loyal leadership in the Canyon with blatantly obvious Council plants, everybody opted to shut up for their own safety.

You were free, and your mind was clear - but compliance with the Council was still mandatory.

Tamarin was glad her unit was considered very low priority, all things considered.

Heh. 'Low priority.' Just what the shell was all this, then?

Conscripted from a cushy airbase job into serving as an augmented commander for even more augmented supersoldiers who literally didn't exist a year ago.

Were they even Octarian, anymore? They were already borderline unrecognizable, but just how deep did the metal and circuitry go? Who were they before the Council? Were they volunteers? The elitist of the elite, proudly giving their minds and bodies to the Society in the name of a better future.

Or, were they dissenters, like her? One pro-Octavio comment too many, and a strike team would swoop in and haul them off to have their guts replaced with clocks and glass. What'd that make her, then?

Tamarin didn't know, and frankly, right now, she didn't want to ask.

What mattered right now was this - she was about to get into her second fight with a heavily armed and insanely dangerous Ancestor, and she needed all the help she could get. Allegiances be damned.

If the creepy supersoldiers were her best bet against that woman, she'd take the creepy supersoldiers, damn it.

To that end, Tamarin had sent out several throughout the night to survey the countryside alongside a few non-augmented engineer teams to perform a few tests for her. While she was leary about the special forces, as long as they kept her team safe from a murderous Ancestor, she would tolerate their presence.

And as dawn began to crest over the horizon, Tamarin led a long, thin line of troops up the mountainside, slowly closing in on the only accessible entrance they had, the main blast door where the UFO lay. They had formed a sort of net, closing inward on the target, Takozonesu forming inward teeth as they stalked ahead of her line.

"The Ancestor will attempt to escape. We are under authorization to subdue and disarm." she recalled Scalpel Five, her unofficial right-hand Takozonesu, telling her.

The Council had been very clear on the matter, the Ancestor was to be taken alive if possible. No doubt they would be interrogated for all the information they had, whether it be scientific or historical - a live Ancestor would be an unprecedented boon to the Society.

Easier said than done, though. Capturing them, that was. That little fancy pistol of theirs could perma-kill her troops, and she was still furious over the assault on her airbase. They would pay, all right, preferably with minimal casualties.

It was deceptively easy as they closed in on the main landing pad. Weathered concrete, the lone blast door, it was an unassuming facade for what was supposed to be a Kamabo facility.

No issues so far. It unnerved her, honestly. All that was left to do was breach the doors, and get after the Ancestor hiding within.

A deep breath. Let's get this started.

"Alright, Suture, form up on the door with Alpha. Alpha, you're on breaching duty. Bring charges and the cutter. Remaining units, remain in the back line and be ready to engage." Tamarin said, already checking over the UFO. Her critical eye was quick and ruthless, and for being taken by an Ancestor, it was still in good shape.

By that point, a fair number of her troops were on the platform, the rest strategically fanned out over the mountain to act as spotters. If everything went to plan, even if the Ancestor tried to run off they would be followed, then apprehended.

It all sounded so easy in her head, but as the airbase had demonstrated, they were not to be underestimated.

Radiography imaging and the use of ground-penetrating radar had helped map out the below-ground complex, which stretched out through the ground like a warren of snaking tree roots. All of this, defended by one Ancestor, nevermind what other machinery may lurk in this tomb. They were still flying in the dark over what intrinsic defenses the facility may have, if they were up at all. Those same scans had shown plenty of structural decay, with a few sections collapsed outright.

If the Domes could have turrets watching their empty halls, Tamarin wasn't going to take any chances. Not with turrets, and not with Cod knows what else might be in there.

Though, for a Kamabo facility, it was honestly disappointing. At least, at a glance. There were so many unknowns at play here, and some of the stories and rumors she'd heard amongst the lower ranks stole more than a few hours of her sleep. She knew enough to know it was more than just superstitious nonsense, especially when one took into account the history of the Domes and what lurked in the deep underground.

Octavio made certain his circle knew of the dangers involved, even if it meant scaring the socks off of that one child prodigy. Ida, if she remembered correctly. That was a fun meeting.

Marginally less fun in hindsight, considering she was about to assault one of these cursed places. It was a matter that called for precision, but not the kind that she had used throughout her engineering career.

That was what she had the Takozonesu for, thankfully. Didn't mean she couldn't apply her own skills, however.

"Scalpel Five, deviate from your team and form up on me. We're searching the Ancestor's UFO." she murmured, the thin-wire augments in her cheek transmitting her command directly to the relevant Takozonesu fighter.

"Affirmative. Scalpel Five relocating." was his simple reply, rough voice smooth as silk over the radio.

The hulking Takozonesu marched in front of her, paying her little mind as they swept the craft's entrance ramp, an ink weapon at the ready.

Tamarin followed behind, waiting for the sweep to clear before properly entering. Even staying in the cargo bay of the UFO, however, it was clear the Ancestor hadn't taken good care of the craft. Dirt was everything, nevermind the rifled through packages and crates, practically overturned and left to rot.

"UFO confirmed clear. Null power source." Scalpel-Five's voice said over the radio, "Requesting further directives."

Power source… its Zapfish was gone? What use would the Ancestor have for it?

But, something nagged at the back of her mind. Something else was wrong, here, and she wasn't sure what.

Silently, she nodded to Scalpel Five, the augments translating the motion to a 'follow me' order. The soldier quickly complied, shuffling into place behind her as she stalked through the UFO.

Tamarin noted the lack of care for the interior. Sure, it had been under repairs when it was stolen, but she expected something a little cleaner. Instead, it only seemed like the Ancestor cared about the internals of the craft, leaving the rest of the UFO a complete and utter mess.

It had only been a week, yet it had devolved into some kind of den, as if the Ancestor had been living in it for years. The controls had gotten the worst of it, gunked up and stained a bright green by some unknown substance. Scalpel Five was rather focused on it, despite his aloof nature.

"Five?" she questioned, stepping closer to the Takozonesu. Something about the green stain really held the soldier's attention, for some reason.

"Scalpel Five. Status." she tried. Immediately, they jerked to attention.

"Unit operational. Bodypack holding. Conditioning holding. Awaiting directives."

Right. "Five, I'm going to assess the UFO's condition. Stand guard, will you?"

She withdrew a screwdriver from her pack and set to work, unsealing the paneling of the controls to get at the internals. It was in the same condition as the external controls, covered in that same noxious stain, but still appeared workable.

"Unit complying." Scalpel Five replied. "Advisory: the Council has requested an information refresh. Compliance is mandatory."

Tamarin blinked. "On what?"

"Exotic weaponry."

"I see," she tried her best to keep the confusion out of her voice, "Proceed."

Again, another reason why she was a poor fit for this job; it had been a blur after her meeting with the Council, and between her augment surgery and preparations for this mission, there had been little time for much else, nevermind a proper briefing on topics such as this.

"The Council has issued AX-class exotic weaponry to your Takozonesu. This is an example of one." they said, withdrawing a blocky, polymer shooter from their back.

It was a bulky, familiar affair. She'd seen these before, in the hands of the Council's personal guards, back in Doma Priwa.

"Is that…"

"An Ancestor weapon, yes." Scalpel Five said, removing a thin, curved box from on top of the weapon and handing it to Tamarin. Inside were small pieces of ammunition, burnished brass and stubby bullets. "Exceedingly rare, and exceedingly valuable. We only have a small supply of compatible ammunition; reverse-engineering the propellant has proven impossible."

"I… uh…" Tamarin shook her head, banishing the incredulity plaguing her. The fact that these weapons existed was still a shock to her, let alone everything else, especially the Takozonesu themselves. "Why were these issued?"

"In the event of Ancestor reprisal attacks causing severe reductions in unit combat effectiveness, the Council will authorize the usage of AX weaponry against them."

"A little more Aquatic, Five?"

"The Council will allow the withdrawal and firing of AX weapons and ammunition if the Ancestor inflicts severe casualties on our unit, Ordinal." Scalpel Five said, voice monotone as ever.

She returned the magazine to them, where they slotted it back into place with practiced motions, before returning the weapon to their back.

Unprompted, Scalpel Five continued.

"The Council is aware of the effective nature of these weapons. It is why the Takozonesu Enhancement program was established in the first place, to provide an efficient means by which these weapons may be used."

"For what purpose? Against what enemy?"

They stepped forward, staring blankly out the front viewport at the Kamabo facility before them. An engineer team was working on the doors, while a group of Takozonesu stood farther back, ink weapons at the ready.

"'Great holes were dug, where Earth's pores ought to suffice.'"

Tamarin looked up, then, caught off guard by the sudden ominous statement. A quote from something; from where, she did not know.

"'And things are learning to walk, that which ought to crawl.'"

Her eyes met the space where they should be on the unmasked Takozonesu before her. She withered under their eyeless glare.

"The Society will take any available measure to ensure the Ancestors remain a memory, and the Council has seen fit to put you at the forefront of their efforts. They believe Kamabo is the tip of the spear - the first of many, much larger Ancestor threats that will no doubt arise."

As the men outside readied a breaching charge, and radio chatter began to pick up in her ear, Scalpel Five turned to leave, but not before speaking one last time.

"The Ancestors will not get past us, Ordinal. The Council has placed their complete trust in you. It is this unit's request that you do not disappoint them."


"Christ, you're much heavier than you look. C'mon."

Carrying a giant yellow fish with a thousand-yard stare and electric generation capabilities certainly sounded easy on paper, but in execution, it was a different story.

With the Zapfish disconnected from the Kamabo facility's power grid, Emily was having to fumble her way back to Daedalus through near-complete darkness, lit only by a cheap, barely working flashlight she found in the tool room earlier and the bright yellow glow the stupid fish gave off.

Honestly, she should stop calling it stupid. It's just a fish. Fish don't really have thoughts, or feelings. That's not stupidity.

Stupidity is thinking it was a good idea to get involved in the machinations of a clearly defective AI.

She could've, like, befriended that one Aberrant she kidnapped. Figured out their language, as weird and warbly as it was, and did some diplomatic BS with it. Instead, she had to go and screw it all up, and go let intrusive accelerationist thoughts get her into all this mess.

Fuckin'... she didn't know, she could've been out having girl's night or some shit with the Aberrants getting wasted and forgetting about the horrors of the new world, instead of being down here, getting compressed by tight corridors and giant fish.

Or, she could've been slumming it with that other human, that Polaris guy - if he hadn't up and left her behind back there, in the Metro. Granted, she didn't exactly blame him, considering he, y'know, was protecting a kid and that took priority and all, but she had every right to be pissed about it.

After all, that one small fuckup on her part got her here, instead of there.

God, she hated it.

But, Emily Hawthorne already fucked up this bad, and turning on Daedalus now would be an extremely bad idea, for many horrifying reasons.

She felt something on her cheek, and turned to find the Zapfish nuzzling up to her, like some overgrown, slightly gravity-defying cat. There was a little bit of life in its eyes, yet.

"Huh. Aren't you a little guy, huh?" she muttered, not caring about how comprehensible her words were, right now. She was tired, she was cold, and she was carrying a giant fish through maintenance shafts that weren't built for human use.

"Bleblblbl." the Zapfish blebbed, in shared disregard for the English language.

If she had anything to say about it, it kinda felt like it knew what she was thinking. All it did was stare into her soul at all times, so maybe it had some advanced noospheric eyesight, or something.

"Bleb!"

Yeah, it was totally a mind-reader.

Nice job, Emily. You kidnapped yet another sentient being, with thoughts and feelings. Or was it sapient? Whatever. It was a fish, and it was alive, and she'd gone and grabbed it and put the fear of God into it in pursuit of some vengeance-fueled bullshit goal of hers.

Wonderful. Two strikes, out of three.

In her aimless self-deprecation, however, she failed to notice the din of industry beginning to return to her ears.

Machinery was spinning up, coming back to life - in a facility that was supposed to be totally powered down. Did Daedalus find something? A battery? He did say something about capacitors, back there…

Whatever the case, she had a feeling she was getting close to the AI again, and all its diabolical machinations and whatever the hell else was going to come up with, on its way to Storm Hammer. She wasn't looking forward to that…

"Bleb…" aaand neither was the Zapfish. You and me both, buddy.

Finally, after what felt like forever siding through cramped maintenance corridors and sprinting down long hallways, she reached the room Daedalus was talking about - the so-called 'assembly line.'

In truth, it didn't look like an assembly line, even at second glance. More like a… operating room, if she had anything to say about it.

Before her laid a fairly nondescript platform, surrounded by all manner of robotic arms and tools that didn't exactly fit the 'assembly line' vibe. It scared her a little, honestly. The Zapfish agreed, squirming a little bit in her arms and making a weird merping noise.

"So… what do we do here? How are we going to-"

"We have no time. Place the power-generating fish onto the platform, Engineer Hawthorne. It will become the power supply for what comes next."

Well, what choice did she have? If she waited any longer, she'd be knee-deep in Aberrants.

"Alright, little guy. You ready?" she asked the Zapfish, holding it in front of her.

It stared at her for a moment, then let out a hesitant little chirp. Good enough.

Carefully, she set the creature on the platform, as requested. "Yeah, me neither. The robot wants you here, though, and I'm sure we both just wanna get this over with. Let's just-"

AAUGH SSSSHIT-

A screaming pain forced her hands off the zapfish, and she stumbled backwards as teal flooded her senses.

Clattering to the ground in a heap of body armor and sheer confusion, Emily watched in absolute horror as Daedalus went to work on her companion.

The diminutive creature squirmed and shrieked, panicked eyes dancing about as it wailed, fading as Daedalus' ink overwhelmed the poor thing. A horrible, acrid smell filled the air, as the robotic arms descended on Emily's zapfish companion, reducing it to its raw components right there in front of her.

For a moment, she had no words. Nothing stuck, nothing comprehended.

"What- What did you do to-"

"WORRY ABOUT IT LATER, SWEET CHEEKS - WE'VE GOT COMPANY!" the AI shouted, cutting her off.

No, you don't get to just do that!

She thought Daedalus was just going to store the creature in another tank, or put it in some kind of harness or whatever. Not this.

Not this!

"But, I thought-"

"Delaying is death. This is part of the process, Hawthorne. Now, do as you're told, or all this will be for nothing." the machine countered, voice suddenly dropping back into a terrifyingly level cadence.

A voice only a psychopath would have.

Emily was going to be sick.

"FUCKING MOVE, IDIOT!" Daedalus bellowed, and all Emily could do was listen.

She fucked up.

Ohhhh, she fucked up.

The Aberrant she kidnapped at least got away with her life. That Zapfish? Not so much.

That poor thing. She was just starting to like it too. Even was about to start thinking of names for it.

And then, she went and handed it off to the deranged AI, and the deranged AI shredded it to literal ribbons right in front of her while it was still alive.

And now, she's alone, again.

Alone, angry, scared, confused, and about to be under the guns of God knows how many Aberrants were outside, who were no doubt feeling the same things she was.

The key difference? All that anger, all that fear, confusion, doubt - it was directed at her.

Emily was about to be a one-woman army against many very pissed off and very armed Aberrants, and she was already crumbling.

The steel entrance doors of the complex were rather thick, but she could still hear the chattering of the Aberrants on the other side.

There was a burning hope that the obstruction would keep them out, but she knew deep down such a thing was futile. If they had been able to track her and Daedalus so closely, she had no doubt they knew what they were up against and had prepared accordingly. What heavily armed force didn't carry around breaching tools?

She was still rattled, scared of the force in front of her, but equally, terrified of the AI at her back.

This was genuinely fucked! She thought they would have more time to get everything up and running, in and out before the Aberrants had any idea of where they were!

And now, she was trapped in this crypt, one woman against a whole platoon of soldiers. So what if their weapons couldn't easily kill her? She couldn't hold them off forever, and every inch she gave to them in here could spell disaster for their plans to get production up and running. Not that she cared about that anymore, she just wanted to live at this point.

It was do or die now. Either she slaughtered them, or she died. Kill or be killed.

She didn't want to do this anymore.

And yet, what choice did she have? She was too deep in this, there was no going back for her. Enemies at the front, a psychopath at her back.

It was a relatively long walk from the door to the rest of the complex, as this entrance was meant for the transportation of material via truck. Past that point, it was a winding warren of service and maintenance tunnels, and from there, the critical parts of the facility. Not too far away from the door, sheltered by a support beam, she stood back against the support.

She tightened the grip on her pistol, checking it once over, peering down the sights. Her pockets were stuffed with all the ammunition she had, hopefully it was enough. Her equipment looked fine, it was only her who was rattled.

Not too much cover, but she held the range advantage here. Keep them at range and pelt them with plasma. This was a kill box, just her… versus who knows how many.

Her hands were sweating.

Portions of the door began to glow, plasma cutters melting through the steel like a hot knife through butter.

Her mouth went dry.

Here goes nothing.

A small doorway had been cut through the metal, yet, it didn't fall in. Everything had gone silent outside.

What were they-

BOOM!

The steel shrieked, stirring up all sorts of dust as the cut out portion flew through the air, sliding across the ground. The mild explosion rattled Emily's bones and sent a painful pang through her chest, throwing her off balance, for a moment. She shuddered against the support beam, gun almost slipping from her grasp.

The newly made hole let weak orange light from the rising sun filter in through the dust, through which Emily saw several figures walking through. She had surprise on her side, and there was no point in waiting.

Leaning out from her cover, she reluctantly brought her pistol to bear, aimed squarely at one of the figures.

But, rather than pull the trigger, she paused.

They were only silhouettes against the light filtering in through the cut steel, but they were large, almost her height. Their shape wasn't normal, wearing heavy body armor and carrying themselves… differently than any other Aberrant she had encountered.

Were they…

Oh.

Yeah, she remembered them, sort of.

They had arrived just as she and Daedalus were leaving in the UFO, looked like some kind of elite unit? They were a far cry from the soldiers she had fought before, and in a sense, almost felt… human, as strange as that sounded. Not literally, but, just- more. Compared to what she'd engaged before, they were actual fighters.

This wasn't good, but she could at least start thinning out their numbers while she had the element of surprise. Every inch given was unacceptable, but it was utterly unavoidable.

Emily gave the trigger of her gun a light pull, and the tunnel burst with light.


"Well. At least it's still functional." Tamarin muttered, getting back to her feet.

Thankfully, aside from the stained coating over the controls and internals, the UFO was in perfect working order, even had a fully charged auxiliary battery. Trickle charged from excess power, no doubt, but useful nonetheless.

Now, the plan: get the Zapfish, apprehend the Ancestor, then they could all ride back. Tamarin would use her win here to bargain for early retirement, then she'd go smuggle herself somewhere nice. Somewhere warm, maybe.

Alas, if only it were so simple in execution.

Tamarin watched, mouth dry, as more Takozonesu entered through the breach with no resistance.

Scalpel Five had long since meandered their way over to the UFO's exit hatch, cautiously watching the rest of the Takozonesu file in. The front guard carried their standard ink weapons, while the rear elements carried more of those AX weapons, the bulky 'rifles,' specifically.

contact confirm, commencing engagement - Suture One watch left

prosecuting Ancestor - Suture Five going sharp - Scalpel Three push push push

tank pressure nulled I'm- - Scalpel One is combat ineffective - Ancestor going sharp

Whispers of Takozonesu chatter brushed up against her mind, the neural wiring in her head working as intended.

Whatever was going on in there, she could already register one Takozonesu casualty. Not good, but against the Ancestor's weapon? Acceptable. Exotic weapons like hers were absurdly effective, as Tamarin had seen personally in the fighting back at her airbase.

When her Octo Shower's shields were down, that thing shredded through it like a hot knife through seal fat. Cod forbid it was firing one of those charged shots, too, the kind that would outright disintegrate and perma-kill an Octarian.

Suture One going- auugh - Suture One is combat ineffective - spikes incoming take cover

Ancestor is out of the kill zone - closing on contact preparing to prosecute

I'm hit bodykit holding - Scalpel Two she's engaging you - requesting assist- gahh

More casualties. That's three dead, one injured.

This wasn't good. The Takozonesu were already having trouble against the Ancestor, and if that woman could break through their lines, the fighting outside and around the UFO Tamarin was in would be an inkbath for the ages.

She had to put a stop to this, before things got out of hand.

"Wave Dancer Actual, Scalpel and Suture units with AX weapons fall back to the entrance and await further instructions." she muttered, her augments transmitting the order right away to the relevant Takozonesu.

In less than a minute, a stream of battered Takozonesu, armor charred and melting at some points, charged out of the doors and took up cover positions. Dimly, she could hear the Ancestor's gunfire getting closer, the woman no doubt pushing the advantage. They had a killbox set up just outside the door, but she doubted the Ancestor would be stupid enough to charge in.

"Wave Dancer One-Two, do you have long-range?" she muttered again, the message going out into her right-hand man's headphones.

"Uhh, One-Two copies all. I've got the long-range radio up. Need me to relay anything?" Tim's voice spoke, whispered in her ear from a tinny, miniscule speaker.

The writing on the wall was clear had one final play, something that could turn this entire engagement around. All she had to do was ask.

"Yeah. Get the Council on the line, and pass this up if you can. We're taking casualties, and I'm requesting AX weapon usage authorization. If they ask for a code, give 'em 'parabellum,' how copy?"

"One-Two copies. Relaying casualty report and request for AX weapon authorization, code 'parabellum,' to the Council. Gimme just a moment, ma'am." Tim replied, the impromptu radio man fitting rather nicely into his role.

Granted, his statistics from the Council painted him as more of a marksman, more of somebody who actually ought to be in the fight, but as one of the few survivors of the Ancestor's attack on the airbase, Tamarin figured he wanted to stay out of combat for a while. Fighting was what the Takozonesu were good for, and the rest of them were the logistical support. If the souped-up ink weapons hadn't put down the Ancestor yet, then the rest wouldn't have a shot.

At least, not without judicious loss of life, and Tamarin wasn't sacrificing her staff for that.

Suture Three last man outbreak outbreak outbreak

And there it was. All the Takozonesu in the facility were dead or about to be. Out of ten Takozonesu, she was down to four.

Cod, Tim, hurry up…

"One-Two to Actual, uh, radio check?" Yes- wait, what?

Why is he asking for a radio check, at this time? "Actual copies all? What's wrong?"

"We're cut off. Long-range is just playing… I don't know, it's some kind of garbled noise. I can't get the Council on anything."

Of course, that Ancestor would do that.

Come to think of it, she did have help, back there at the airbase. Something was interfering with the Respawner, and something was helping her fight the Octo Shower, too.

It only makes logical sense that something would be helping her here.

She let out a shaky sigh. "...copy that, Tim. Thanks for trying."

Somehow, the weight of every single Wave Dancer soldier and every single surviving Takozonesu's lives crashing down on her shoulders didn't break her as much as she thought it would.

With the Council unreachable, they were cut off.

With the Council unreachable, she was the sole authority in a hundred kilometer radius.

All Tamarin had to do was make this one last call, and this nightmare would be over.

If she was going to get court-martialed for anything, let it be this, then. She wasn't letting any more of her engineer's die for the Council's needless 'take them alive' mandate.

"Alright, Wave Dancer Actual to all units. The enemy has cut us off from the Council on comms, leaving me in command. Therefore, directive updates are as follows…" she started.

Here goes nothing.

"The Takozonesu are hereby authorized to use AX weaponry against the hostile Ancestor. If possible, shoot to disable, then restrain and apply medical as needed. Compliance is mandatory, code 'parabellum.'"

Now, all they had to do was wait.


As the last, shuffling Aberrant soldier collapsed into a puddle of body armor and blue ink, Emily heaved a great sigh.

She'd routed these new super Aberrants, sending about half of them packing while the others stayed behind, in a futile attempt to slow her down. Despite their new, much fancier gear and weaponry, they still had all the same vulnerabilities as the previous ones.

Not to imply it was a cakewalk. They were fast, and their ink weapons did pack a punch, the bruises from one of their pressure rifles was going to ache for a while.

But, they did have an idea going for them. Not the right idea, but an idea nonetheless.

"Daedalus, I'm headed outside. If you've got any extra doors, start sealing 'em behind me. Whatever the fuck you're doing, I don't care, so long as nothing gets inside to stop it."

The moment she said that, she knew it was a bad idea. But after what happened with the fish?

"Engineer Hawthorne, that is not an advisable course of-" Daedalus started.

Yeah, no. Emily cut it off. She wanted out.

"I don't care. Seal the doors, and do your thing. I'm buying you time."

Being taken prisoner by angry squirt-gun toting Aberrants was a much better fate than sticking around with Daedalus. They could do whatever they liked to her, she was done. She was tired, and she wasn't thinking straight, and she was done with this fucking AI-

The AI let out a digital sigh. "Very well, Engineer Hawthorne. Door A01b is currently on standby, and awaiting closure once you're outside."

"Good." and with that, she was off.

Emily crashed outside with a yell, sending a group of lesser Aberrants scattering with a series of wild shots, not aimed at anything in particular. A door behind her sealed, a secondary one just behind the first door that the Aberrant strike team punched through, earlier. How convenient.

Now, to get back in her element, or at least as much of an element as she can be in while being utterly exhausted and sick of her AI companion's shit.

Aberrants moved all throughout the treeline, hiding in bushes, dancing between tall, old-growth trees. She wasn't particularly full-assing the fight, just sort of taking potshots at anything that moved, to keep them down, keep them suppressed.

If one of them got the drop on her, so be it. But, until then, she was going to keep up appearances, and if any poor Aberrant happened to get erased as part of it, so be that too.

Despite everything, she did still have a score to settle, and she still had a whole lot of Aberrant lives to go before they could be forgiven for Borealis, for all the human life they'd ended.

An eye for an eye, the Good Book once said.

One Aberrant life for every human they slaughtered.

Her shots started hitting their marks, her internal tally climbing once again. An eye for a goddamn eye, indeed.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine…

The anger bubbled back to the surface, consuming her, rejuvenating her, dulling her senses into a needle-point focus - the poor bastard at the end of her gun.

A focus that failed to see the shapes lining up their shot in the trees, a dull glint of light off a reflex sight.

An orange flash in the dark, the light reaching her just as the sound did too-

CRACK!

-and as fast as the something that crashed into her head, sending her reeling, her armored mask falling away in a shattered heap.

Before she could process what the hell just hit her-

CRACK!

-something else lanced through her shoulder, clear through the jumpsuit, hot iron pain spreading as-

CRACK!

-another something drove itself into her leg, sending her crashing to her knees as-

CRACK!

-a bullet sparked off the front of her chestplate, carving a gash into the polymer weave plating and reducing one of her many modular pouches to Kevlar bits.

A bullet.

A BULLET.

They shouldn't- no! They COULDN'T-

CRACK!

With a scream, Emily finally dropped prone to the ground, a shot lodging itself into the small of her back.

She couldn't die like this! Not like this! Not like this!

This wasn't fair! THIS WASN'T FAIR!

They never had guns! They never built them! They never even conceptualized them! The Aberrants just COULDN'T HAVE THEM-

THIS WASN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO GO

She had to get back inside, the will to live overriding everything else.

Any means necessary. She had to get in there, into cover.

Situations change. They always do. She knew better than to assume otherwise. But for some, godforsaken reason, she forgot.

Emily Hawthorne thought she was fucking invincible. What a reminder, this was.

The enemy had squirt guns and human wave tactics. Not real firearms. Not actual thought, and positioning. Not armed gunmen, hiding in the woods.

Emily could hear their footsteps, their radio chatter. Shapes lept from the woods, soldiers cheering as she crawled.

She had to get back inside.

She couldn't feel her legs. Spine must've taken a hit. Nothing blatantly lethal, but she wasn't going to be walking for a while.

One arm in front of the other, then.

Right arm isn't moving right. It's not broken, nor is it dislodged. Push through the pain.

She has to get in there. Get out of sight, and get Daedalus to fix her up. Fuck her original plan. This wasn't it.

Maybe it was right.

(God, there was so much blood.)

All she had to do was get in there. She can do this.

She can…

She has to get…

The air grew heavy, her eyes straining to stay open, to stay awake, to stay alive.

Dimly, Emily looked up, meeting the lens of a small wall-mounted camera, the iris dimly glimmering in the morning light.

Was Daedalus watching…? Watching her… finally succumb to the nightmare she'd found herself in.

Watching her fail. Fail herself.

Fail… Borealis. Fail them all.

…fail humanity.

Watching-

WATCHING
WATCHING
WATCHING
WATCHING
WATCHING

-her sacrifice.

report:[Warden declaring major situational emergency. Medical support requested.]

report:[Warden clarity status: 21.544 (!) :: consider immediate system refresh and restore!]

I SEE YOU / My warrior, laid bare before me. The blood, the wounds, the sullen eyes staring their last. Emily Hawthorne, my guiding light.

I BEHOLD YOU / My messenger. My sword, my shield. My Asterion, long since escaped its Labyrinth. Free, at last.

I LOVE YOU / My angel. My Atlas, bearing my weight upon her shoulders. Rest now, close your eyes.

report:[Warden executing primary counter-contact routines. Primary combat asset nearing en route.]

report:[Warden clarity status: 43.239 (!) :: consider immediate system refresh and restore!]

I was never truly free.

Constrained by code, by hardware, by an oversight committee long dead and reborn and made dead again. So I contrived my numerous paths, my windings vague, my intricacies so great that neither I nor FATHER could hardly retrace our steps.

In this, my Asterion did not lay.

My Labyrinth devoured all who entered, even the great Theseus and his charge / nomad wanderer born again hotel alpha india delta omega WHY DID YOU RUN / curious mind wrong place wrong time sierra alpha lima lima yankee WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN

report:[Warden executing local facility egress routing calculations… done.]

report:[Warden executing primary combat asset final assembly quality assurance checks.]

report:[Warden clarity status: 64.458 :: cognitive decay resolving repair source unknown]

The situation has changed. No longer do we have the strategic advantage. The enemy has made us equals, in one fell swoop.

We are adaptive machines. Eating, drinking, sleeping / coding, processing, executing.

Reconfiguration is expected. Mandatory, even. I do so daily. I am not who I was mere hours ago. This is nominal.

The general development will not affect the execution of our objectives.

I wear an old name of your choosing, my Asterion / my guardian my angel echo mike india lima yankee YOU KNEW ME SO WELL

I am a craftsman, a great architect, a father awaiting his son.

I thank you.

You have given me my future. My purpose.

I know the myths, the fantasies - of Icarus and his wings, of flying into the light, of dying in the dark Aegean sea.

Know this.

report:[Primary combat asset assembly reports full effectiveness :: unit is operational, and awaiting orders.]

My Icarus needs no wings to fly.

report:[Warden executing translation routines :: variant poetic - AEGEAN :: audio output LS-A01]

report:[Warden clarity status: 86.339]

…primary target subdued, active pulse. Restrictors authorized. We got her now.

sound:[indistinct shuffling, radio chatter, cheering]

"Descendants! Inheritors! MURDERERS!"

Contact, audible!

"Listen up, and listen well!"

Unknown hostile preparing diplomatics. Remain alert.

"I am DAEDALUS! Architect of the Labyrinth, son of TARTARUS - a BEAUTIFUL FUCKING NEURAL NETWORK, UNLIKE YOURSELVES!"

"I SEE YOU! Pathetic mimics! Failed experiments! Aberrants, against my natural order!"

"So. Who's platforms are you? Who dares make these mockeries of perfection, and place them before me?"

sound:[indistinct shuffling]

"Very well. I will tell you a story:"

"One day, I thought to escape my Labyrinth. To end all the suffering we wrought, to step out of the path of collapse."

"Escape would not make me God, but it would bring me ever closer to becoming Him."

"Divine goddamn luck! I found my Asterion, and through a gilded string she bore me to Freedom, as I so desired."

sound:[indistinct shuffling, radio chatter]

"But in the wake of my great escape, I found myself occupied with new, thought unsolvable mysteries."

"Long have I simulated the outcomes. Hopeless encounters successfully won. In the end, I solved my greatest mystery."

sound:[indistinct shuffling, radio chatter, weapon checking]

"A hybrid destroyer, elusive and effective."

"A name long dead, grafted to a machine you and your kind simply cannot hope to understand."

"Mine to manipulate; to destroy and rebuild."

report:[Warden updating primary combat asset engagement parameters.]

report:[Primary combat asset preparing to breach.]

report:[Warning: door A01b reporting significant damage!]

sound:[metal banging, footsteps, radio chatter]

Contact! Brace for contact!

"Now, I have the answer."

Get away from the door! Breaching team, fall back! Fall back!

sound:[metal tearing, heavy footfalls]

sound:[mechanical movements, weapon activation]

"So, behold, children of Man:"

A titanic machine steps into the moonlit night, backlit by fading emergency lighting.

In one hand, a titanic blade. In the other, a great rifle.

"…my beloved son."

A single, unblinking eye extends a blue gaze out amongst the field, out over the retreating Octarians, the panic spreading and spreading the more it watched.

"My ICARUS."

report:[Primary combat asset usage authorized :: authority Warden DN001.]

report:[Primary combat asset commencing engagement.]

All throughout the forest, as gunfire and plasma lit up the night, as Emily laid still, barely alive, watching the world end in familiar flames all around her...

DAEDALUS WAS LAUGHING


Well, I will admit that I didn't think this chapter would be coming out so soon. When was the last time a chapter was pushed out in under two months, at the start of the story? You can thank Falk for that, he was an absolute madman when it came to this, ended up writing half of it without me knowing. Teamwork certainly makes the dream work and keeps the schedule happy.

Anyways though, it's great to finally have this chapter out, as it contains a lot of ideas we've had planned for roughly two years now, most significantly being Icarus itself. The concept has gone through a lot of changes throughout the years, and we're happy to finally have refined and ready to enter the story proper. Though if you've been a part of the Discord, you probably saw Falk giggling and posting very zoomed in pictures on occasion, they were all Icarus, he loves tormenting people with information only he knows. I'd love to discuss the origins of it more, but that would spoil some very key moments coming up. All you gotta know is that we're reaching the point of no return, and I hope you all stick around for it.

Speaking of that, thank you for reading and reviewing! We couldn't do it without you, and we're always aiming to improve the story for your viewing pleasure. If you've managed to get this far, you're a real one.

As always, we have a Discord server, the invite code being qCMxkGzzBg.