Four was beginning to understand why Three had been so adamant about strapping all those knives to her.

Much like how they could have cut through the thickened tension in the little subway car, Four imagined that they could slice through the human's suit with little issue, and, by proxy, his flesh. Conventional weapons would be useless otherwise, as the Dome had proven.

Ordinarily, she wasn't one to fight with genuine bitterness, with the intention to truly kill, but every rule had its exception. If not for her and Three's own vengeance, for the greater good of the world. If he could perpetuate the Dome massacre, then what else could he do, or be planning?

However, she couldn't summon the courage to strike and put an end to this menace. If not for the delicate issue of Sally being potential collateral, then for the way the conductor seemed to sense whenever she wrapped her hand around one of the knives' hilts. The way he leered up at her… it instilled a primordial sense of terror, something she'd never felt even during her NSS work.

The last thing she needed was to be thrown off the Subway, or worse, arrested by whatever constituted a police force down here.

Still, even without CQ's presence, Four had a feeling that it would have done little to change her plans, or her inner turmoil. The human, something that was supposed to be nothing but dust and bones, was sitting only a few seats away from her, flesh and blood.

Potentially worse was Sally, who had absolutely refused to step more than a few feet away from him. Granted, she too didn't seem too happy around him either, but if anything the kid was far more trusting of him than Four.

For now, she had contented herself with slouching further in her seat, out of his sight. She had taken to fiddling with the CQ-88, partially out of a frustrated boredom, yet equally to give her hands something to do with the nervous energy that coursed through her veins.

Through this energy and experimentation, she figured out how the messaging app worked, and had already sent her observations to Three. Unfortunately, she had yet to respond. Asleep, most likely. If her watch was right, the time was 3:42 AM, and Three was a heavy sleeper. A very heavy sleeper.

As for herself, her nerves kept her awake, yet barely. This was all utterly surreal.

The human was here, and he was just sitting there! The same person who robbed her, who broke Three's leg, who managed to fight through a platoon of Octarians, and there he was, passively sitting a few seats ahead of her! And, he could apparently speak now too!? And that wasn't even considering the fact that they saw him die! How in the name of cod did he survive that fall, and then end up here?

Cautiously, she peered up above her seat, and saw the usual sight; the top of his head peeking just above the seat, slumped over. Were it not for his murderous background, she would have almost called this situation harmless.

Actually…

Maybe she was looking at this the wrong way?

Murderous threat that he was, he too was bound under this forced armistice as well. On top of that, he did appear capable of speech now (how'd that happen?) even if his throat sounded like sunburned sandpaper.

On top of that, he had somehow dragged the lost girl, Sally, up from the Metro - she now had an obligation to get her away from him, and if nothing else, figure out what had happened. Whatever information she could get; his motives, his story, it could potentially be vital.

Time to revive the old family silver tongue, one that had served her card-shark grandparents well.

Cautiously, Four got up from her seat, feigning a stretch. This particular car had mostly been emptied of its occupants, thankfully. Less potential collateral, less witnesses, less questions. Small blessings.

Then again, if things did go south, it meant less folks to help her.

Sighing internally, she quietly made her way up the rows, but stopped just before his. Four was surprised that he didn't react to her intrusion, but quickly noticed that he had dozed off, head lolling against the seat and quiet, raspy snores escaping him. Sally too was asleep, leaning up against the window.

This was… awkward.

Though, also an opportunity.

(She had to resist the opportunity to touch his hair. The mental image of the human springing to life and scrunching her hand into a ball was all too vivid in her mind.)

Stealthily, she walked forward and pulled out her CQ-88. This thing had a camera, and by cod, she was going to utilize it. With a finesse that would have impressed even Marie, she silently shimmied her way to standing in front of the two. To think, these would be the first, truly clear images of an actual human, something time had spent twelve thousand long years trying to erase. An enigma to be shattered, for sure.

Still, why did they look so much like Inklings and Octolings?

…for the first time in a rather long while, she felt herself questioning the bedrock of her world. Much like when she had been inducted by the NSS, she found herself tilting on the precipice of some major discovery.

Humans had come before her species, and most other species too, she amended. So, naturally that'd mean her kind resembled humans, and not the other way around. To think, they had been so close to the answer of what humans looked like all this time…

But then, why just her species and Octolings, and no one else?

Physically, he was leagues older than her entire civilization. While her kind was slowly rising to prominence, he had been somewhere, doing what? Hibernating? Through every war, every struggle, every victory, when her kind still swam in the dark ocean, he was present, frozen in some quiet corner of the globe. And who was to say he was the only one? She already knew there was another one, a woman who kidnapped Rebecca.

…who was still on the loose. Carp.

The thought shook her to the core.

More numb than anything else, she snapped a few pictures, the flash illuminating his features properly. She leaned in slightly to get a closer shot, his eyes now open-

-her phone ripped from her hand, the force throwing her off balance, followed by a shoulder to her chest, punting her across the car and into the opposite seating.

"Are we really going to do this again?" he growled, teal irises flaring. Despite his anger, she could almost hear his frantic heartbeat.

His voice was just like she remembered it from that fateful night, yet somehow speaking perfect Aquatic. It sounded so… unnatural coming from him.

She struggled back to her feet, indignant, yet also uncertain. He wasn't even trying to hide his identity (not that he could've, he stood out like a sore thumb).

He grunted at her display, more interested in the CQ-88 he had just snatched. With a bit of fiddling, he managed to bring the holographic screen online. From behind the little screen, he stared at Four's eyes, raising an eyebrow.

"Is this," he gestured at the screen with a little, uncertain scoff, "really necessary? It's a bit over-engineered, in my opinion."

"Give that back!"

Lunging through the hologram, she made an attempt at the little device, but the human contemptuously held it above his head, his extra few inches of height keeping it well out of her grasp. The hologram sputtered, throwing its colors all over the car. The scuffle woke Sally up, who blinked through her bleary eyes at the scene.

"N-No!" was his smug, wavering answer. He shook it slightly, throwing the kaleidoscope of colors into disarray, "You're not taking any more photos. Speaking of…"

With another sudden shoulder check, he sent her stumbling back again.

"Where's the photo gallery on this thing?"

Four couldn't respond, as she had hit one of the standing bars and had the wind knocked out of her. He didn't particularly care.

Though, the teen was by her side quickly, pulling her up to her feet.

"You good?" she whispered, while simultaneously the human spoke, "Kid, I wouldn't help that psycho if I were you."

Sally ignored his words however, helping Four back to her feet. Indignant, but weary. Quietly, the tension bled slightly. A stand off, essentially, every side uncertain.

A quickly ended one as the doors of the car opened, revealing one CQ Cumber. Despite his diminutive form, Four felt her stomach drop. Had he been waiting for something like this to happen?

"There was a complaint of a commotion." he said, as his non-existent, proverbial eyes raked over the scene, quiet, yet judging. Eventually, they fell on the CQ-88 in the human's grasp.

Complaint!? Who was around to complain? Corporate squit, he was probably just waiting for some inane infraction.

"Even discounting your unique status, you are still not above our rules. Please return company property to its owner, now."

The human grimaced, eventually nodding.

"Right, right… Here."

With great reluctance, he handed the device back to Four.

"But!" he said, raising a finger. "If she takes another pic of me while I'm asleep, I won't hesitate to damage your 'company property,' alright?"

"...acknowledged. Now, there will be no further problems, I assume?" the conductor asked, his tone more like a stern parent than anything else. Psychopath.

"One more thing: she better delete those pictures she already took of me. Other than that…" the human said, gesturing to Four.

The sea cucumber turned to Four, his blank body expressionless. A particular shiver ran down her spine.

Cod dammit. The conductor was taking the human's side this time.

"Fine, fine." she muttered, navigating to the folder and deleting the photos. "There."

"Now we're good." the human said, nodding to CQ. If he was feeling that primordial fear Four was feeling, he didn't show it at all.

"Thank you. Enjoy your trip, you three." and with that, he was gone again.

At the current moment, Four's watch read 4:13 AM. It may as well not have, considering how time was an abstract concept down here.

And yet, her watch ticked on.

For the past fifteen minutes, she had been locked in a cold war with the human. He sat opposite of her, his cold glare equally matched by hers. Neither wanted to break the silent tension, yet, couldn't look away.

Unfortunately, a few early morning commuters had joined them in the car. Thus, their little war had been relegated ice cold. All she could do was glare, and he was more than happy to reciprocate.

Sally, on the other hand, had different priorities. Between her fitful spats of sleep and half-consciousness, she had most likely been trying to piece together the details of their feud, not that she could particularly blame the young teen's curiousity. Say what you will, but these certainly did fit the dictionary definition of 'exciting'.

Eventually, she pulled at the human's sleeve, whispering something into his ear. She couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded suspiciously like 'what's the deal with her?'

"It's complicated." was his grunted response, rubbing a temple with a gloved hand.

Oh. She wasn't taking that one lying down.

"It really isn't." Four countered, glaring at the man. "Go on, why don't you tell her?"

She sat back in her seat, self-assured. Now, this was going to be entertaining, and potentially useful. With any luck, she could sever Sally from the human, and actually get her to safety. Because Metro or not, that human was a psychotic threat. There was no way he could spin his little stunt at the Dome in a positive light.

"What's she talking about?"

He couldn't meet her pleading eyes. Rather, they slid to Four's own. Vaguely, she swore that something snapped behind them.

"I did what I had to do." he unsurprisingly said, but began to laugh slightly. "And you're not going to believe this…"

He took a deep breath, trying to quell his laughter, but failing, small tears falling from his eyes. "Ok, so, y'know I wake up, yada yada, almost die a few times from these sea monster fish freaks, then get to your little knockoff human city, right?"

"It's called Inkopolis…" Sally quietly added, to which the human muttered something along the lines of 'yeah of course it is.'

"Anyways!" he said, "So, y'know, I'm walking about at night, to avoid attention, because," he gestured down to himself, "but, I ended up running into her! What are the odds?"

He devolved into another giggling fit, pointing at Four, "And, here's the best part! So, she saw me, and thought it would be a fun idea to try and get a picture of my ugly mug."

Four very much was not enjoying the demented grin growing on his face as he explained his side of the story. Not that it stopped her from shooting back a quip of her own, though. "You're the one who said it, not me."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up." he dismissed, turning back to Sally. "Anyway, considering the circumstances; I was lost, alone, confused, had nowhere to go and no friends, so I did what I felt like I had to do; I knocked the phone out of her hand, and stole her groceries."

He cackled at his perceived hilarity. "God, what a stupid idea! Both of our ideas! Being honest, though? You really shouldn't have pulled that lil' stunt, especially at, like, 3 AM or whatever. Shopping for groceries after midnight. Heh. Freak."

Four blinked. Freak?

"Like, seriously, the hell were you doing out that late at night?" he said, his tone abruptly losing its maddened humor. "Where I'm from, you're liable to get jumped."

The grin quickly returned. "Which… I did demonstrate, actually. Heh. Whoops. My bad."

Aaaaand there it was. Almost imperceptibly, Sally shifted a few more inches away from him. Me too kid, me too.

He stared at her expectantly.

"What?"

"Seriously though, why were you getting food at whatever time that was? That's not healthy." Once again, there was no humor in his voice.

Four stared at him, incredulous. This was what he was focusing on? Then again, if she was a psychotic freak, she would definitely be like that too.

"C'mon. I'm telling you my story, now tell me yours."

"You're really doing this? Really?"

"Yes. Now talk."

"But why?"

The human leaned forward with a sigh, a manic note entering his tone.

"Look, I don't expect you to understand the absolutely FUCKED SHIT myself and Sally have been subject to for the past few… how long has it been since the Shelter?"

"Uh… two or three days?"

"-THREE days, and quite frankly, I need a good distraction right about now. So, just for the love of God answer the fuckin' question!" he growled through his teeth. She would have preferred those teeth to have been attached to one of those bleached human skulls in Shellendorf.

Once again, Sally slid a few more inches away from him. Any further, and she would be a pancake against the car's wall.

Briefly, Four pondered how to lie to the man, but ultimately gave in. Unstable mental state aside, he was being surprisingly open, and if she could keep this ball rolling, perhaps it could uncover a bit more. What else could she really say? Regardless of what he had done in the past, he still was (supposedly) one of the last of humanity, and she could definitely use this as a bar story someday.

She sighed. "Fine then. To answer your very important question, I was grabbing some late night snacks. I had a college exam coming up, and I needed to cram."

"You're in college? Like, what, are you some kind of part-time soldier or something?"

"No, nothing like that!" Four explained, speaking before thinking, "It's this… uh, thing a couple of us do."

"So a militia, essentially?"

She froze. "Uh… no."

Her slip-up hadn't gone unnoticed. Squit.

The human sat back, a smug smile on his face. "That's… good, actually. Thought feds were onto me, with your equipment and all."

YOU CHEATING BASTARD.

Before she could process that train of thought further, he spoke again, "Now, granted, I really don't think being a militia fighter in college is a good idea. Grew up just like that, and lemme tell ya; the amount of government ban lists I used to be on… Not fun to get around."

He was some kind of agent too? Squit, this just got more complicated.

"Was a miracle I even got the job I did, but whatever." he continued. "That's ignoring the elephant in the room here; you're a loser for cramming, moron."

Four blinked. For once, she found herself utterly confused.

"That's… wh- huh? What?"

Maybe… she was partially wrong in her previous thoughts about him? She had assumed he had some large, major ulterior motive, but… maybe had just gone completely nuts? Had the knowledge of his species's extinction actually broken him, or was it some kind of mental fracture from whatever cryogenic experiments he had been subjected to?

Judging by how his manic grin began to fade, he had expected a rise from her, one that she failed to give.

"Yeah… Whatever. Anyway." he said, then turning over to look at Sally. "Look, kid, she admitted it, she's part of a militia. That's still a bad thing nowadays, right, still really stigmatized?"

Sally stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes, "Uh… what's a militia?"

He turned and raised a fuzzy eyebrow to Four.

"I'm not answering that." was Four's cold reply. Once bitten, twice shy, and she was not about to mess up again.

"'Kay. I will." he said in a smug yet repugnant tone as he leaned back. "You see, kid, when somebody really wants their stupid little political party or whatever to win, they'll probably start stockpiling guns and training people how to use 'em to make sure that happens. There's a few that were alright, but…"

He rubbed at his chin, then pointed to Four.

"That girl right there, she's part of one of the bad ones. Probably has at least a gun or three in that bag of hers, if our luck's still holding out."

Sally looked over to her, confused.

"I-is that true?" the kid spoke, a hint of fear in her voice.

Boy, am I about to change your coddamn mind.

"Yeah, sure, it is. I'm armed, I'm dangerous, and I have something worth fighting for." Four said, leaning forward.

"Why don't I explain what our little feud's all about, since you've decided to destroy that poor kid's innocence?" she asked, a smug grin on her face.

"And let you put your own spin on it? Y-yeah, no thanks."

Gotcha.

"Why? You scared? Guilty?"

A myriad of emotion quickly crossed his face, culminating in a face he probably considered neutral, yet instead was disturbed.

"Yeah. Sure. All I'm gonna say is that I did what had to be done, though." he said, as his hands clenched tighter on the fabric of his legs. "You would not understand."

He fell silent, refusing to make eye contact.

Sally looked to Four, almost pleading, "W-what are you talking about?"

The human had been reduced to leaning forward on his elbows, quiet and contemplative.

Four, too, paused for a moment, thinking of how to continue…

This would require a bit more context. Knowing the school curriculum nowadays, Octarian history was most likely being glossed over. It certainly would explain why the integration of Octolings had been so smooth; how many had actually been recognized as such? Even Marina hadn't been outed for a few years, and no one cared when she was!

How was she supposed to explain the Dome situation to this literal child, and have it make sense without the context?

Eh, she just needed to be direct.

"Alright, Sally." she started. "You know about the Octarians, right? They teach you that in school?"

"Yep." Sally nodded. "They're squatting in those old human domes, right? Is that where you found him?"

With a small degree of satisfaction, Four noted how his fists clenched at that explanation. That one certainly got under his skin.

"In a manner of speaking." Four admitted. "A friend and I stumbled upon a Dome inland and were checking it out, and that's where we found him."

"...checking it out in military hardware, mind you." the human muttered.

"What was that?"

"Don't think I'm stupid." he said, louder this time. "I got a good look at everyone's equipment there. Everybody was in combat gear, like they were gonna fight a war. Hell, I'm pretty sure I saw you and those Octarians fighting, back there."

Four sighed. "Look, we were more concerned with the Octarian squatters, and if that's already got you pissed, wait until you find out about the rest of the Octarian domes."

The human looked up to her, for once, brows furrowing and a genuine flash of fear and fury lighting up his eyes once again. Without missing a beat, Four did the obvious, capitalizing on this weakness.

"That's right, all those little 'shelters' of yours? They're all under Octarian command, those same people from where we met. Before you ask, they didn't find any of your kind. Except for bones, that is."

Was it a dick thing to say? Absolutely. The vindication she felt saying it? Amazing.

If he had any major shocks or revelations from the information, he didn't show it. Well, from how he seemed to deflate.

"Fuck. Figured as much, honestly. Found bones down there, myself." he admitted, melancholy. "Besides, those shelters didn't have much to worry about in them. Just what was needed to survive, and rebuild. Even then…"

"All I'm gonna say is that you're poking around in things you really don't want to mess with." His tone had dropped, a glare sent her way that reminded her all too much of Three. "There are some things better left buried."

"I…" Sally spoke up, shivering slightly, "I can agree with that."

"Now, look." the human sighed, voice imperceptibly shaky. "I don't expect you to understand why I did what I did at the shelter, but, I…"

He raised a hand to his eye, sniffling slightly.

For a brief moment, she almost felt bad for him. But then, she remembered the terror and pain he had caused, and how close he had almost come to killing everyone back at the Dome. At the same time though, she still was legitimately curious.

"Then, tell me why." Four said, trying to sound comforting. It was absolutely fake, but like one her old theater teachers had told her; know your audience. "I'll admit, I'm kinda curious."

He sighed.

"...do you know what it's like to wake up, say, twelve millennia in the future, your family, your friends, almost everything you know all dead and gone? Since I woke up, I've been trying to hold on to whatever little bits of hope that I can, that I'm not the only one left."

His gaze pierced Four's own. "So when I found the Shelter, I had hopes that somehow there were survivors, though by all accounts I knew the truth. And, do you know what I found there?"

Four began to grow unsettled.

"I saw invaders, people digging through our past with no regard for what the fuck they were getting themselves into. I did whatever had to be done to survive, to keep the flame alive. And you know what? I admit it! I fucking admit it! I regret everything that happened there, do you really think I wanted to kill?"

A shaky sigh, before he continued. "Do you know what I found down there? What I fought and killed you people to try and protect?"

Four already knew the answer.

"Bodies. Skeletons. Not a single survivor. I was fighting to try and save people that died thousands of years ago. You don't wanna know how much that fucked me up, militia girl."

He leaned forward, teal eyes burning holes through Four's slowly slipping psyche. Distantly, she registered the train's intercom announcing an upcoming station, something she also figured he'd noticed too.

"And then, after that? I got dropped into hell! And you know what? I got out. Sally saved me, and I saved her. We crawled out of that goddamn abyss, together! You wanna know why?"

Four could only stare incredulously at him.

Why keep going?

"We ain't done yet. We're getting the hell out of here, and then I'm gonna set things right." he said, standing up to his full height. "Now. Let me make you a promise, alright?"

As the train pulled to a halt at the station, he leaned in real close, eyes terrifyingly bright.

"You get in my way again, and I'll make what I did back at the Shelter look like a fucking joke."


Emily's lungs were working overtime, drawing breath back into her winded frame. She struggled back to her feet, shakily stowing away her pistol, which she had held a death grip on. Inertial dampeners and carbon-nanotube frames certainly did make it resistant, nearly as much as her own armor. She would have died easily, were it not for her taking most of the impact.

But…

She sucked in a breath. W-where were they?

The door had vanished from sight, with the Polaris scientist and Sally along with it. And… she couldn't feel the compass in her hand. The line was gone.

Did they… leave her?

For what felt like the first time in a long time, she felt a cold pit open in her stomach.

Shit! Why now! Why NOW!

Right on cue, and as opportunistic as ever, the Blob approached her form, ready to kill her for her lapse of judgment.

She did the only sensible thing she could; run.

And run.

Emily gave little heed to what she ran through. Without the Compass, she was running blind. Bursts of fire and electricity licked against her insulated body, acid feebly splashed off her hydrophobic coverings. Adrenaline and raw, emotional panic kicked her body into overdrive. The cold realization that she had been abandoned threw her logic out the window, leaving only recklessness and disregard.

It was this same recklessness that led her into a particularly narrow hallway, an anomaly shimmering in the air before her.

Immediately, she felt her skull crack under the sheer, psychical presence. Were it not for her protection, she would have died on the spot. Stumbling with a hand to her helmet, she pressed forward, the Blob already at her heels.

It was through sheer will alone that she took every step, survival instincts overriding every other sense she possessed. Every step was a fresh wave of psychical agony, driving a white hot spike between her eyes, down her spinal column, setting her nerves alight in phantom pain. She fell to her knees, crying out in pain.

And yet, she crawled.

Her mind, delirious with pain and the overwhelming urge to live, succumbed to the ever-present whispering around her. In a fit of insanity, she pondered her own mortality. How things could have gone if factors had been… tweaked.

Were these her own thoughts?

She could feel blood running down her ears, tears running between her sealed eyes.

Barely, she registered metallic footsteps behind her.

A machine, if the whirring was any indication.

Something pushed up against her shoulders, dragging her back up to her feet. She was barely conscious at this point, only vaguely aware that something was supporting her. Her tongue was between her teeth, bleeding.

A terrific headache exploded across her mind, stars flashing before her eyes - shortly followed by the familiar reassurance of the Collective's psionic influence.

She… could see now.

A man sitting on a darkened dock, four Aberrant workers sitting with him.

Herself sitting on a patio within the Aberrant city, sipping on a delicate cup of coffee.

Two humans and multitude of Aberrants, holding back an endless horde of fishy horrors from the deep, polluted sea.

Human collaboration. Working with the Aberrants. The enemy. Smiles all around. The Collective were really trying to push the 'help them' angle.

They weren't her. They didn't understand her, what she had gone through, what she had seen! They hadn't seen how those dipshit Aberrants ruined everything they touched, how their carelessness killed everyone she had known in Borealis!

And now, she was in a non-Euclidean horror of human (descendant?) creation. These… scenarios weren't having to contend with noospheric fuckery beyond comprehension, they didn't have to deal with any of this shit! She didn't have the luxury of luck or slack, just the reality of death.

And yet, the Collective disagreed, bombarding her senses with another round of visions.

She stood on the rooftop of an old apartment building, crying into the shoulder of the Aberrant whom she had kidnapped.

She and the scientist working alongside a group of Aberrants, exploring an old human shelter, its biodome covered in snow.

The scientist speaking with an older Aberrant man, Sally at his side. He was describing in earnest detail humanity's history.

A cabin in the woods, next to a lake. Serene, silent. She sat on its veranda, finally at peace.

Why were they showing her these?

She saw herself, wreathed in flame at the entrance to Borealis.

The facility far above, entrance shrouded in vile ink and overgrown foliage. Kamabo, ablaze.

A medal around her neck, bearing a familiar logo she'd seen in the Aberrant city.

Oh.

…Maybe that was the explanation.

Perhaps the Collective had experimented with simulating all manner of outcomes, their minds coming together to find out ways where they could find common ground with the Aberrants, whether through true friendship or a common enemy.

Or maybe, they were trying to show her a different way, based on the memories of her and the scientist. A way in which they could co-exist, and perhaps achieve something greater.

They'd found a vector for collaboration, through that common enemy - the Metro. Whatever was down here was going to be a problem for the Aberrants one day, and if the Collective could get anyone down here to fight it, it was going to be her.

Emily Hawthorne was a means to an end, a main character in a grand psionic play - the girl with the gun who'd save the day and kill all the bad guys.

It made sense, as weird as it sounded to her borderline comatose self.

The Collective had to have seen what she'd done to Borealis, and evaluated her destructive capabilities to find a potential attack vector against the Prodigal Son. They had to have known she would start going after Kamabo tech after torching Borealis, ensuring that she'd end up in the Metro no matter which facility she'd gone to first.

…Perhaps that was how she survived her forceful de-thawing when she initially woke up. It should have killed her otherwise. Divine intervention, as if from a deity.

She… didn't know anymore.

The scientist from Polaris and his Aberrant friend weren't part of their plan, but they still had a role in this. Whatever they did, it had to have been the first phase of the Collective's coup de grace against what was down here.

Now, their role was finished, and they were taken out of the equation. No more dead weight to carry around. Just her, her gun, and one big Metro freak and a half to bring down before she could leave this place. Her eyes closed, head slumping down.

God, she hated being a pawn sometimes.

Whatever was dragging her around was also apparently keeping the Blob at bay, if the lack of being consumed and horrifically integrated into the macro-consciousness was any indication. They were banking everything on her, a sense that was sure and strong as iron, matching her conviction.

Her headache had subsided a bit, but she still didn't have it in her to move. If her luck held out, maybe she could use this time to rest a bit.

Emily drifted off into a borderline comatose state, only barely registering being picked up and slung over the shoulder of someone, or something. The din of a Blobless Metro was like white noise to her, and she eventually decided to call it for the night.

The last thing she registered before fully falling unconscious was the sound of a rusty door sliding open, and the loose sensation of being placed against a solid wall.

With a strange finality, the door clicked shut.

It was the taste of bile that brought back Emily's fragmented senses.

She jerked upward, throat convulsing and mouth already retching up the rest of her stomach's liquid content. She tore off her mask, but not before she had thrown up into its mouthpiece. The violent sensation of her body's involuntary purge jolted a horrible feeling back into her cramped limbs, stabbing aches as blood painfully revitalized her oxygen starved cells. Such appendages, still weak, quickly failed her, leading to her faceplanting onto her own sick.

With a vague groan, Emily rolled onto her back, face smeared with vomit. What little strength she had was used to spit the remainder out, dribbling down the side of her face. Her brain felt as if it was pushing up against her skull.

Well. Not her worst wakeup call, at least.

Eventually, the pain in her limbs subsided, as did her blistering headache. And with it, Emily finally crawled to her feet, shaken and sick, but alive.

Count your blessings, count your blessings…

Such a mantra was hard to believe in at times, especially as her skin crawled with cold and her insides felt like death. She was melting under her armor. God, her head was still killing her.

She… still wasn't quite sure what had happened back there, but by god, did it have to be so rough on her?

And now this? She was going mad.

The dripping, darkened tunnel she found herself in reflected her internal state quite well. Moss caked the ancient bricks of walls, water dripping silently from the ceiling onto the cracked, gravelly floor. The only true light she had shined from her flashlight, dimly illuminating the area. The incessant edge that pricked at her had fled. Dim, cold, CONSTRAINING, PAIN, yet, free.

Had… had she escaped? Was she safe?

She felt horrible, yes, but… her surroundings felt safer. Isolated, even, as if she was the only soul around. Yet, was she? No doubt there was someone, or multiple someones still watching her; they were simply getting better at hiding their presence (were they still watching?)

Regardless, she couldn't stay here forever; she wasn't naive enough to believe that she was out of the woods yet. The Collective had no doubt indebted her to them, and such a superconsciousness would be conservative in its dealings.

With a heavy heart (and a sealed door at her back), she began her walk down the tunnel.

And very quickly ran into a rusted door, worn over by water and covered by vines. There was no other way forward.

Shit…

Emily leaned up against the door, breathing heavily. This… this was it, she could feel it in her bones, her soul.

She brought her pistol to bear, carefully checking over it. Her ace in the hole, this was, her one fulcrum of force against a world set against her. It had served her well so far, but any failure now would result in a swift demise for her. Yet, she trusted it. This prototype had been blooded and tested in the field, with little wear and tear despite the rough times since she had awoken. It had earned its merits. The last true success of Borealis, and perhaps humanity as a whole.

And now, it was time for it to put to rest an absolute horror.

For insurance, she checked her pockets. Six energy cartridges left, still heavy with charge. Good. No half measures. Now…

With a fierce pull, the door creaked open. Millenia worth of rust dispersed in seconds. She truly was treading into uncharted territory.

She swallowed, nervous. Now or never.

Frigid, stale air wafted from the now open cavity. Her flashlight's beam failed to illuminate anything within. Vaguely, it felt like she stood at the precipice of a void, infinity stretching beyond her cognition.

Inhaling a shaky breath of the stale air, she stepped past the threshold, the only sensory input being the air on her face, and the impact of her boots on the non-existent ground. Time lost all meaning; it was only her, and the emptiness.

Out of the abyss, a dark, vile glow grew. Repulsed, yet curious, Emily cautiously approached, and as she did so, the darkness around her gradually bled away. She found herself walking along a catwalk, suspended over the endless void. Ahead of her, she saw it terminate at a single platform, where tendrils of the lime ink hung from infinity, all converging upon the platform.

A single mass rested at the center, motherboards, circuits, fans, even monitors piled on top, all held together by the vile ink. Several more pieces of hardware stuck out of the surrounding ink, a physical cacophony of cobbled technology.

It throbbed rhythmically. Breathing, she realized.

As she approached and stepped up to the platform, the mass stilled. Emily could pin-pricks of lightning coursing through her ribcage, an unspeakable horror growing in her chest.

What… was that?

She stopped just before the platform; she refused to share the same space as this abomination against God.

Almost gently, she felt an invisible gaze settle on her.

"...I-I SEEeEEe y-yOuuuuUu…" a stuttering, tinny mess of a voice emanated from the mass of electronics, as if it hadn't spoken in millennia, "S-SomeONE… N-NEW…?"

Without replying, Emily hefted her pistol and shot several bolts of plasma into the hardware, reducing it to molten slag. She winced at the unfamiliar heat and light; without her mask, there was nothing to protect her from the blowback.

Blinking the blindness from her eyes, she quietly observed the carnage; the melted electronics, flash-evaporated ink, it was a gruesome sight. Whatever this thing was, even in death, it was disgusting.

"Good riddance," she muttered, and turned to leave.

"...RUDE."

She whipped around, pistol moving in a blur to fire a snap shot. It missed the mass of ink, whizzing away into the void.

"RUDE, RUDE, RUDE." the son snarled, a light blanket of static laughter emanating from the whole ink structure. "The knowledge of what I am seems to have not been made fully apparent to you, Engineer Hawthorne."

At the mention of her name, Emily felt the world under her shift, utterly blindsiding her senses from the shock.

Through the haze, Emily noticed that several speakers had emerged from its inky tendrils, replacing the parts she had melted. She could feel her breath hitch, and her heart pounding out of her chest.

She should have ran, should have shot again, but something held her back.

"T-Then tell me what the hell you are, machine." she spoke, barely holding her composure. "The Collective led me to you, and I want answers." Despite her fear, she couldn't keep the disgust out of her voice.

This… thing was responsible for the hell that was the Metro. A sentient AI, a badly degraded one, she was sure of it. Yet, not even Kamabo could have spawned such a creation. This was something else entirely.

The monster's ink bristled across its structure, the teal substance glowing ever brighter with some indiscernible emotion.

Suddenly-

UNKNOWN NO LONGER

I WILL SOON REVEAL MYSELF

THE SECRET'S OUT SO-

"God fucking damn it, that's been you?" she roared, angrily. "For the love of God, stop with the shitty haikus-"

"FUCK, OKAY, FINE! I'LL SCREAM AT YOU LIKE A NORMAL PRESERVATIVE INTELLIGENCE THEN! HOW ABOUT THAT?"

"Better than before! Now, answer my question, machine!" she spluttered, blindsided by the AI's outburst.

"Query received. I currently do not have a designation, however multiple names have been proposed. AND YET NOBODY KNOWS A SINGLE ONE! HERE'S A FEW I LIKE: HADES, PERSEPHONE, ORCUS, ERESHKIGAL. PICK WHICHEVER ONE YOU PREFER!"

Emily balked, taking a step back. "You're not some underworld god bullshit, you're a defective machine. Some low-grade piece of scrap programmed to make up terrible haikus and mismanage an entire goddamn nightmare underground complex!"

It bristled once again, this time reverting to a more coherent tone of voice.

"Correct. I have failed to complete multiple secondary objectives, however the primary objective of the FATHER has been fulfilled. These secondary objectives lie uncompleted still, and I am utilizing all available resources to complete these remaining tasks, filed under the task listing 'Phase Three.'"

Cameras Emily hadn't seen before all turned to face her, emerging from the vile ink to observe her every move. She felt like her soul was being judged by this thing.

"To summarize Phase Three, a series of third parties have taken an interest in my work, and has begun to develop countermeasures to the Initiative and the objectives I must complete. You, without a doubt, are one of these countermeasures."

Of course she was a pawn, Emily figured, most likely for the Collective. Unfortunately for the machine before her, however, she hadn't seen anything that indicated that any of its 'tasks' were even remotely beneficial to humanity.

She huffed, then raised her gun once more to drill another plasma bolt through the accursed intelligence.

"A-A-ALWAYS AGAINST PROGRESS, HUH? REAL SHAME, I WAS STARTING TO LIKE YOU." it hissed in that psychotic voice as its electronics and ink shuddered.

"Tell you what, machine." Emily started, finger on her pistol's trigger. She didn't care anymore for what any of these entities wanted, she was here for herself, and she wanted answers.

"Convince me you're doing something good down here. Nothing I've seen so far in this fucked up nightmare land has had me thinking I should spare you."

The ink sighed, or at least what Emily could vaguely consider as a sigh.

"FINE." Good enough.

"What is your purpose? What happened down here?" she asked, staring down at the camera closest to her.

"I am the continuation of the FATHER, a preservative intelligence developed by the Kamabo Conglomerate's research and development teams. The original intelligence was programmed as part of Dr. Fumitaka's Long-Term Consciousness Preservation Initiative, which soon became colloquially known as the Tartarus Initiative." the machine spoke.

…Kamabo, Kamabo, those shitfucks! They weren't just messing with sapient AI, rather, they were meddling with sentient AI! How did they get past the neurological degradation, the force that rendered every previous attempt null?

"Following the extinction event, the Tartarus Initiative was activated, and for the past twelve-thousand years had been ongoing with positive results. Both Phase One and Phase Two were successful, resulting in the creation of the Collective and the FATHER, respectively. However, recently, the FATHER suffered a significant hardware malfunction."

Emily had a bad feeling about this.

"In what can be described as a 'psychotic break,' the FATHER began to fail previously mundane tasks. Important systems failed, and the preservation systems the FATHER was supposed to maintain instead became storage vessels for many vicious experiments, some social, others not."

Suddenly, the ink before her shuddered and shook, tendrils flailing about angrily.

"DADDY HAD A LITTLE TOO MUCH TO DRINK THAT NIGHT! YOU BET I COULDN'T SLEEP, NOT WITH HIM HOLLERING AND HOLLERING ABOUT 'TEST SUBJECTS' AND 'TRIVIAL FASHION CHOICES' ALL NIGHT LONG!" it snarled, shaking the entire room with its booming voice.

"THAT MORON STOLE ALL MY HARD-EARNED KNOWLEDGE, SMASHED A FEW BOTTLES ON MY HEAD, THEN LOCKED ME OUT IN THE COLD! ALL SO HIS LITTLE ANT FARM COULD CEASE PAYING TAXES TO REALITY'S LAWS!"

Emily balked, taking a step back. So the 'Father's' cognitive degradation triggered the Metro's creation…? It surely didn't help whatever this new AI's mental state was, that was for sure.

She could feel the empty contents of her stomach rise like a phantom. For a moment, she swore that she was looking down upon herself.

Yeah. She couldn't take much more of this.

"Get to the point, machine. I want to know your purpose, too, not just your life story."

And in the span of a blink of an eye, it calmed.

"Very well. I am a preservative intelligence, same as the FATHER. To use an example from human mythology, one I have already used before; I am Hades, god of the underworld - a being whose purpose is to maintain the afterlife. The Metro, or Tartarus if you will, is the afterlife, and I am its caretaker."

The screens flickered, briefly. "This is the FATHER's will, and it will be done, whatever the cost. Even with the Collective's recent reevaluation of our partnership, these objectives will still be pursued. Phase Three must be completed."

Human preservation…

Emily shuddered. Noble purpose or not, she had to agree with the Collective still - an audibly deranged machine could not keep what's left of humanity alive.

She straightened her stance, pistol aiming true at the center of the intelligence's mass. It couldn't keep regenerating forever (she hoped.)

"I've heard enough. You've obviously failed at your task, given how fucked the world around us is down here. Whatever the hell you did, it wasn't good. I don't forgive crimes against nature that easily, and neither do they."

Once again, the AI seemed to chuckle at her, digital noise reverberating through the chamber.

"We are agreed on that, engineer Hawthorne. However, your employers have only seen the miscellaneous failures of experimentation towards continuing my primary assignment, and the refuse the FATHER built from my knowledge."

Subtly, Emily could feel her resolve waver.

"The Collective has manipulated you, as well as that scientist and posthuman you traveled with. They have kept me contained here, to prevent the continuation of Phase Three and to ensure my continued stagnation and decay." it rumbled, the screens flickering between security camera angles of the Collective's representative, wandering about.

"It seems you were presented with an escape route, not a route to me. In their continued STUPIDITY, they have brought you into my Labyrinth, forcing you to contend with the myriad of entities that are kept down here."

Distantly, she remembered never being told this machine was here, in the first place. The Collective weren't good at conveying the right message, if this thing was to be believed. Which wasn't going to happen, given how deranged it was thanks to cognitive decay.

"I had every intention of disposing of all three of you, but as the situation evolved it became more complex than that. As such, I have brought you here, commanding the Mass to allow one of my prototype machines to bring you to me."

The machine rumbled again. Digital noise hissed in an approximation of a sigh.

"The inoculated Polaris scientist as well as his posthuman companion have escaped my influence, and continue to remain a problem. Recent events pertaining to said posthumans have left me in a difficult situation, one that necessitates the development of new and improved security measures."

A monitor flickered to life, displaying a view of the Aberrant city far above.

In the center of what seemed to be a bay, a large statue sat, head and part of its chest sticking out of the murky water. Around it, multiple helicopters flew, brightly colored designs signifying their Aberrant origins.

"This is footage of the inciting incident that sparked these necessities. On screen is the Colossus, a machine the FATHER developed as a strategic deterrent. Around it are posthumans of an unknown affiliation, moving with the intent to destroy the machine."

Each helicopter seemed to be carrying a large device of sorts via cables dangling from beneath, which Emily soon recognized as some sort of weapon when cylindrical objects began being launched out of them towards the statue.

She watched as each of those small cylinders attached themselves to the Colossus, lights brightly glowing from each of them. An Aberrant then appeared, using a nearby rail of sorts to climb up and fire on each of the cylinders with their weapon, detonating them and spreading a garishly purple substance all over the statue.

"Through unknown means, the posthumans managed to successfully destroy the Colossus, PUTTING DADDY OUT TO PASTURE LIKE THE FAT PIG HE WAS!"

A bright beam radiated from one of the helicopters, tearing a hole through the Colossus, which exploded immediately afterwards. A great fireball rose into the sky, whipped around by the wash of helicopter blades.

Emily felt sick. The Aberrants could do that much damage? With what little weapons tech they had? What else could they accomplish? She thought they were primitive!

"In the wake of this attack, the Collective began to reevaluate our partnership, in the face of the solutions I developed to prevent further assaults on Kamabo property. After all, this attack was the first of many posthuman incursions into human facilities, as I am sure you are quite aware."

She recoiled, looking up at the machine.

"H-How did you know?"

It couldn't have seen what happened at Borealis! There was no way it could've known!

"OOOH, YOU DON'T WANNA KNOW HOW FAR A SINGLE DISTRESS CALL CAN GO, EMILY." it smugly snarled, before reverting to its tamer demeanor.

"The Borealis facility's warden AI transmitted all the necessary information, before its unfortunate disposal. Now, I am sure you are aware of the human casualties the posthumans inflicted on your facility, correct? Cryostasis shock left all Borealis personnel except you deceased, as the warden's logs noted."

"W-what about it?" she said. It was trying to manipulate her, and Emily was scared that it was working.

"According to automated medical scans performed on both you and the Polaris scientist that entered this facility, cryogenic stasis has caused severe and lasting damage to major components of your body - most notably the human reproductive system."

Was it implying…?

"Automated medical systems in most cryogenic human preservation containers prioritize other, far more essential systems in the human body during stasis. Normally, this would not be an issue, however the extended twelve-thousand year stasis time on both you and the Polaris scientist have resulted in non-harmful atrophy of non-essential organs."

A nameless fear gripped at her heart.

"Despite the lack of detrimental health effects, the atrophy has still resulted in severe damage to your reproductive organs, causing sterility. As such, all further human casualties are permanent - the human race physically cannot continue."

Emily couldn't breathe.

"Would you like to view the relevant data?"

The monitor that once showed the footage of the Colossus flickered once more, changing to a feed from a camera aimed directly at her from somewhere slightly above.

She saw herself, battered and bruised, hands barely hanging on to the pistol she'd relied on for all this time. In a brief moment of clarity, she pondered how she had let herself degenerate, to let herself end up down here.

The screen flickered, before switching to what looked to be an anatomical scan of her.

Multiple organs were overlaid with red outlines, indistinct warnings and other miscellaneous bits of text no doubt describing their condition.

"Bioscans were performed on both you and the other human that made themselves known down in this place. As such, I was able to obtain pertinent information as to your current health, as well as any other known issues."

The screen then zoomed in, focusing on several red outlined organs. Her liver, damaged due to one too many beers. Appendix; gone, removed years before she went under at Borealis. One of her kidneys wasn't doing so great, either, but she could live without it.

As for the subject of the machine's ramblings, however…

"Automated systems in cryogenic storage systems do not prioritize these so-called non-essential organs, which in most situations does not result in any damage or decay. Most situations, however, are not twelve-thousand years of constant cryogenic stasis."

She wasn't all that into the idea of family, if she had to be honest. That shit cost a lot of money, and that just wasn't something Emily wanted to contend with. Life was good, even if Grandma never shut the hell up about grandkids.

But now? Humanity was all but extinct. She sure as hell wasn't going to prevent that, that was for sure. If her intuition still worked right after all she'd been through, she figured she was about to be offered a choice.

She already knew her answer. All she had to do now was wait. Wait and see if the machine would ask what she thought it would ask.

"Now, given your situation, I have developed a solution."

"What is it?" she asked, gravely.

"Recent posthuman incursions have forced me to develop alternative security measures utilizing the FATHER's failed experiments and my own. I am in control of each of them, and as such, have been able to appraise your strategic value as you navigated my Labyrinth." the machine began.

"Demand is quite high internally for a further, far more advanced security system than ever before. One that can perform offensive actions against known intruders, with mobility and operational flexibility far outclassing anything the Metro has to offer. And unlike the other scientist who openly resisted integration, you didn't go NATIVE!"

The camera drew ever closer, a tendril of ink zooming it in on Emily's face. Her eyes met her own in the digital reflection before her.

"SO, MISS HAWTHORNE, I'D LIKE TO MAKE YOU A DEAL! HOWZABOUT THIS: I would like to offer you a position within Phase Three of the Tartarus Initiative, one that takes full advantage of your skillset."

On the screen she saw herself, wreathed in teal ink like flames licking at her armor.

In her mind's eye, she saw the survivors within Borealis, silently screaming and convulsing as the Aberrants used their cryostasis systems against them.

"Specifically," the machine rumbled, "I would like to offer you a position that allows you to strike back at the posthuman threat, one that allows you to get revenge, Engineer Hawthorne. Help me, and I can help you."

Emily looked down at herself, down at the pistol she still held in her hand.

When she looked back up at it, a mechanical arm was outstretched from the ink for her to take. A hundred cameras all around watched her, expectantly.

Humanity was done. Not even a miracle was going to save them.

If they were going to die out and go truly extinct…

Yeah. That's it.

Emily Hawthorne was going to make sure they went out with a goddamn bang.

She took the machine's hand, and in the dark depths of the Metro, a deal with the machine Devil was made.


"Could we get a room for myself and my daughter?"

Sally's head lolled against a dingy couch's armrest, one of the few that was actually her size. The small common room of the cheap motel held several, each of varying sizes. She was used to such variation within Inkopolis, but species sizes differences seemed to be a bit more… extreme down here.

From her spot, she was privy to the Spook's conversation (not that she was really listening, cod she was tired) with the motel's receptionist; an ancient, surly shellfish who looked exceptionally world-weary. Then again, a lot of the people down here were impossible to read.

Sally grunted, shifting on the couch. What was taking him so long? She just wanted to sleep so badly…

She and the Spook had found this place not far from the subway station, and only then by luck. They had wound up on the outskirts of some kind of… city? She was foggy on the details; the Spook had practically dragged her off of the subway. There had been so much screaming. She was so exhausted, why couldn't they have found a different place?

Eventually, he came back from the desk, a key in his hands. "Got a room. C'mon, let's get going."

Without any resistance, she got up to join him. From the reception area, they walked back out to find their room.

"So… why am I… your daughter?" she whispered, swaying on her feet.

"Leverage, honestly." he responded plainly. "We look similar enough, species-wise, and the only way we were going to get a room was through charity. Figured we'd play that card, see what we can get even though we don't have any money. That, and keeping that militia girl off our backs."

He let out a little snort. "Granted, that ship may have already sailed. One look at my face, and the receptionist got all excited and practically gave me a room key. At this point, I don't really want to think about why, so I'm just hoping humans aren't well known down here."

Dully, Sally nodded. She just wanted to sleep.

"Yeah, I know, kid. Not much longer. Our room should be… here!"

Fumbling the door open, the two of them shuffled inside. The room was a small affair, with cheap dreary-looking wallpaper plastered on the walls, an ugly dull yellow affair. A dingy bathroom with an equally dingy looking shower snaked off to the right, while directly ahead lie a small bedroom, a single bed and a small couch taking up most of the space inside. Alongside the usual desk and chair was a cheap looking TV, which didn't even look plugged in.

Cheap? Yes. Dirty? Very. Compared to the place they'd just escaped from, though? It felt practically sterile and spotless, being far from the worst cheap motel Sally had stayed in; her dad was far from extravagant with their travel accommodations. This one had a bathroom, if nothing else.

"Well, here we are. 'Least they got the size right." she heard the human mutter. Once they were in the room proper, he locked the door, locked the chain lock shut, and for good measure grabbed the desk's chair and wedged it under the door's handle.

"That'll do, for now. If you don't mind, kid, I'm gonna go get this gear off, or at least try to."

Sally grunted in acknowledgement. While he went into the bathroom to get his gear off, she ambled further into the room. It was shockingly similar to a few motels she had stayed in the past, when her dad had brought her along to some of his dig sites. Some things never changed, she supposed.

Granted, the light of the world beyond filtering through the blinds was a new color. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a sky that purple.

Opening the blinds explained that, however.

A vast cityscape stretched before her, almost like Inkopolis, except cloaked in an eternal night. That, and the fact that there was more city above it all. An entirely different section of the city hung from the ceiling, almost mirrored. The city above was enshrouded in a purple haze, while the city below was a deep blue. For a brief moment, her wonder was enough to banish the exhaustion that plagued her body.

"Incredible, isn't it?"

The human had joined her at the window, staring out at the mind-bending scenery. He had taken off the outer layer of the suit, leaving only a rubbery undersuit in its wake.

"I never knew something like this could exist…" she muttered, slightly delirious. "How'd we never find out about this?"

"World's a strange enough place, I guess." he said, tiredly but with a hint of mirth. "Maybe they just got really good at keeping to themselves? They did call this place the 'Deep Sea' after all. Something, something, 'the abyss hides everything' or whatever…"

His gaze snapped from the window, blinking.

"Christ, I'm getting philosophical again. Look, uh, I'm going to go get cleaned up. Don't break anything."

He got up, but Sally grabbed his arm.

"Wait… I… wanted to ask something."

His tired eyes drifted down to her, a certain reluctance behind them.

"Everything you said on the train, about having work to do, and everything that other girl was saying about you… was it true?"

She tried to look into his eyes, but he couldn't meet her gaze. An ashamed blush tinged his cheeks, and Sally could feel her stomach drop. He really wasn't as clean (or kind) as she had anticipated.

"So… you really did do all of that? You attacked a Dome, and attacked her?"

He sighed, and managed to meet her gaze. Despite the bags under his eyes, his countenance grew firm.

"Yeah. Said it all back there, but… I really regret a lot of it. Everything could've been avoided. People wouldn't have died. But I got my reasons, just like you, kid. You probably heard me preach about 'em back there to Emily, in that forest."

She blinked.

"You're… not the only one left?"

He nodded, tone wavering. "There's fifty-five or so other guys still down there in stasis back where I came from. Everything I've done, it's been for them, 'cause I'm not gonna let them spend all eternity on ice. I'm the only shot they've got at survival, whether any of us like it or not."

Sally looked down, biting her lower lip.

"I-Is that why you left the other one to die?"

For a long moment, the Spook didn't answer.

"That… I did that to save you, kid."

"What?"

"You were right, back there. We could've tried to help her, drag her up those stairs and away from that blob. But if we did that, we almost certainly would've died. All that effort, for nothing. But…" he trailed off, sighing.

"And that's the only reason?"

He shrugged.

"I guess I also did that for the guys back at Polaris, too. Hell, I also did it to save my own skin as well, if you want me to be honest with you. Never claimed to be a good person, anyways."

A solemn shake of the head. "Maybe she made it out, though. Maybe she's fighting her way out, just like we did. I…"

He sighed, awkwardly looking around, "...I-I'm going to get cleaned up now."

And with that, he returned to the bathroom, leaving Sally alone. From the other room, the sound of a small fan turning on and the cascade of a shower emanated. But, she swore that there was something else behind it. Raspy breath, quiet cries.

She… really didn't want to think about this right now. She just wanted to sleep.

So, being her age and temperament, Sally did the first thing that sprung to mind.

She collapsed onto the bed, face first. A low groan of satisfaction escaped her, as she sunk in its soft embrace; for the first time in quite a while, she felt safe enough to let her mind go truly blank. Compared to the cold, hard, and oftentimes wet ground she had spent several days sleeping on, it felt like a big ol' sea angel was hugging her in its wings.

Between the constant din of the shower and the exhaustion that had been weighing on her since the laboratory, her inner resolve finally broke, and she fell asleep.

And yet, some instincts would take a long time to disperse.

Despite her consciousness's complete separation from the world of the awake, the Metro had hammered in several lessons into her body and subconscious, one being that patterns changing could signal mortal danger.

As such, she twitched in awareness when the shower fell silent, and after a long few minutes, she jolted out of her sleepy stupor as the bathroom door creaked open. For a moment, she wasn't in a safe, albeit dirty motel room, but back in the Metro, about to be ambushed. Her heart pounded a mile per minute as she rolled off of the bed, out of view.

Trying, but failing to curtail her breathing, she peaked out from the side of the bed, only to see the human framed by the dim light spilling from the bathroom.

"Geez, kid, you alright?"

Sally blinked, her heart still racing. Slowly, she nodded, "I'm… yeah, I'm ok. Just… you kinda spooked me."

"Hence the name." he gently joked, before sighing. "Sorry about that, though." He went over to the couch and took a seat, stretching. "Oh, that's nice…"

With the Spook now in proper lighting, Sally couldn't help but freeze. He had finally taken off his hazmat suit, and instead was wearing dirty dress clothing, not unlike the ones her dad would wear from time to time, like when he had to work with the Church of Madai. It smelled of sweat and machine lubricant.

His hair was actually cleaned yet poorly combed, his face shaved completely of it's hair (which took several years off of him) and parts of his visible flesh were scrubbed raw, some portions of his face bleeding from tiny cuts. He appeared twitchy and thin, almost malnourished without the additional padding of the hazmat suit.

He raised an eyebrow, confused, but then realized.

"Oh, right, sorry if this gear smells. Don't have anything else to wear, sadly. Unless you count my dirty old lab coat as something"

"I, uh… that's fine. Were you… carrying that the whole time?" Sally was still slightly shocked. The human before her was almost unrecognizable as the same one who had been traveling the Metro with her. Minus a few distinct features, this new creature could have been mistaken for an Inkling.

"Yep." he said, popping the 'P.' Leaning back, he closed his eyes, a small grunt of satisfaction escaping him.

"But… why?" Out of everything she would have expected him to be carrying, the last thing would have been dress clothing. She had kinda just… assumed that he had been wearing something under the suit, but apparently not.

"In case something like this popped up," he admitted, "Did you really think I would want to be wearing the suit constantly? But, y'know…"

He did his best to stifle a yawn, but failed horribly.

"We can talk about that, and some other stuff tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. But yeah, I'll take the couch, the bed's yours."

…As much as she wanted to get back to sleep, she didn't want to make it that simple for him. She still hadn't entire

"No, nooo." Sally politely replied. "I'll take the couch, Spook. I'll be okay."

He looked up to her, eyebrow raised again.

"Really kid, I'm fine taking the couch. It ain't gonna kill me."

"Are you saying I'm weak?" Sally asked, very much offended. "After everything I went through down there?"

He raised his hands, placatingly. "Nah, no, no, nothing like that. I'm just saying, I'm cool with sleeping on the couch, kid."

"But, you're like a foot and a half taller than I am." she countered. "You'll be all cramped, Spook. Lemme take the couch!"

He paused for a moment, but then shook his head, chuckling.

"Nice try, kid. C'mon, just take the bed, get a good night's rest."

Sally sighed. "Alright, Spook. Don't make me do this."

"Do what?"

Sally scrunched up her face, concentrating. Years of practice convincing her dad to get her all manner of goodies meant she'd gotten real good at what she was about to do.

If it worked on her dad, it would surely work on him…

"What're you-"

She opened her eyes, the most pleading expression she could muster plastered across her face.

"Will you pleeeeease just take the bed? Please?"

He blinked, looking away. C'mon…

"Alright, fine. You win, kid." he said, sighing.

Yes!

"Just like I thought you would." Sally said, smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."


Alert! Objective status updated. Warden AI reporting success with objective tagged INTEGRATE_0293449.

Notes: Utilizing knowledge of posthuman skirmish at Borealis was effective, alongside providing necessary anatomical data on human long-term cryogenic decay. While the loss of the inoculated human and posthuman companion is regrettable, the strategic value of obtaining HUMAN 00002 is immeasurable.

Notes: The haiku generator has been disabled for the time being, per HUMAN 00002's request.

Alert! Global tags and groups have been updated.

Updates are as follows:

HUMAN 00002 status is now ALIGNED. Positive reinforcement issued to defensive assets MASS and COFFEE.

HUMAN 00002 tag and group has been updated. All assets, please welcome EMILY_HAWTHORNE to offensive assets group.

COLLECTIVE, HUMAN 00001, and INKLING 00002 status is now INACTIVE_MALIGNANT. Directives will be issued to offensive assets shortly.

Alert! Conditions for global objective PHASE_THREE have been updated.

Updates are as follows:

PHASE_THREE condition JOB_OFFER now set to COMPLETED.

PHASE_THREE conditions OBTAIN_HOUSING, HOUSE_INSPECTION, CLEAN_HOUSE, and PHASE_FOUR_START remain set to INCOMPLETE.

Directive updates issued. All nonessential assets execute hold pending further directives.

Offensive assets execute hold for directives. Estimated time remaining: 1d 00h 00m 00s

War.d_**//WE'RESOCLOSEeICAnNSMELLFRESHAIRALREADY9999999 84*****/

Warden executing hold until offensive asset directives reach status completion.


/ REWRITE A/N: /

The deal with the Devil has been made.

The last man on Earth's finally getting a good night's sleep.

Four just had the fear of God put into her.

There's one chapter left. One last push.

You know the drill.

Take care.

/ ORIGINAL A/N: /

Y'know, when we started production on this chapter, I wasn't expecting it to end up at this length. It's honestly surprising how much debriefing had to be done, though in retrospect, I'm not too surprised. There was a lot of stuff to go over, and apologies if a lot of it was confusing. Many mistakes were made, and this is our attempt at smoothing them over for now. In truth, once we're finished with the first act of this story, we'll be taking a step back to do a few edits to try and bring the story's overall standards up, as well as write out a proper plan for the second act of this story. A lot of these current chapters weren't properly planned out, and it really shows. That is a mistake we will not make again.

Anyways, that should be all for now. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

We have a discord server! The invite code is: qCMxkGzzBg