Alt-Power AU: Damp Detours (part 4)

(A Subnautica Crossover)

Metal wreckage lays strewn across dull sand and vibrant red reeds. Four crumpled and mutilated pieces of a formerly connected structure rest at various uneasy angles. One atop the underwater cliff where the structure used to be anchored. One at the edge of the green reeds, draped with the uprooted remains of a sizable chunk of the vegetation. One caught partway down the cliff. And one already embedded in the shifting sands of the plateau below.

Nothing moves amidst the wreckage, save for small fish already busy investigating the changes to their world. The damage is done, and the fight over with.

Some time later, a single scuffed, dented submarine comes over the cliff.

The underwater base is completely destroyed. I didn't see any bodies, though. I also didn't see Glory Girl's Seamoth, or Armsmaster's. A few of Dragon's, but not all of them.

I don't see the sea monster, either. It's not here.

Neither are they.

I'm still terrified, but I have to keep going. Don't I? I've come this far. Maybe if there was nowhere to go, I could stop… But the place where the alien alligators lived, the underwater forest of vines, looks like something tore a hole right through it. Something big.

Something went that way. The others might have been taken, or might have followed.

Or maybe I'm driving after the angry sea monster for absolutely no reason, with no backup and no portals at my disposal.

I think I'm going to do it anyway. Slowly. Carefully. But still.

I have to know.

A jagged furrow rips through the previously impenetrable green murk.

A submarine hesitantly moves through said furrow, keeping low to the ground. Weeds occasionally drift into its path as it slowly, methodically moves forward, brushing off the smooth surface.

Occasionally, larger shapes slink through the weeds, but none show themselves. Not to the submarine. Not so soon after their world was scarred by the passing of such a leviathan…

And something else.

I've parked my submarine in a thick patch of weeds to write. I'm hiding here for a moment. I don't have to stop, it's not like the submarine gets tired, but my heart can't take creeping along under the water forever. Not without a break.

Besides, I need to write down what I've seen. I'll forget it if I don't. Not that I'll forget everything about what I'm seeing, but the little details?

Earlier I read back through this journal. Diary? Logbook. Whatever it is. While I was waiting for someone to find me. It was useful. Reminded me of things that I'd already forgotten about. It's so easy to only remember what I think is important, but sometimes I'm wrong.

Anyway. Everything I knew about the green, forest-like biome to the left of the asshole's underwater base prior to now has been based on observation from the outside, and going to the edge with Armsmaster. I knew about the alien alligators, and I knew about the big, towering weeds. They were so thick it was hard to see into them, or guess at how deep they might go.

Now I know a lot more. The ground beneath the weeds is sharp and uneven, kind of like the safe shallows but more stark. There are little ravines choked with algae and other alien plants, and there are rocks, and bits of wreckage that seem too old to have come from the attack. The crashed spaceship, maybe.

I could have come through here in my dive suit, if I was willing to fight off the alien alligators. I could also have taken my Seamoth in previously, with some difficulty. I've been able to push off the plants that get in my way. But it's a lot easier now. I just have to follow the trail.

The sea monster came this way, and it destroyed any plant that it got tangled up in. There are uprooted reeds drifting everywhere. Only some have settled on the seabed. Others are tangled up in the still-rooted reeds, like a net or a mess of string. The actual furrow the monster carved, though, is mostly clear.

It's also way too open. I've gone slowly, because the monster might have been around the next bend. The path isn't straight, it's a thrashing curve back and forth, and it goes a long way.

Right to the edge of these reeds.

I'm further away from the safe shallows now than I ever have been before, and once my heart settles down and I can unclench my teeth, I have to go further. The path through the reeds has ended here, where I now wait, lurking just within the border. Beyond…

Well, I can't see much. It's the same silty murk that stopped us from being able to see the underwater portion of the wrecked spaceship. I went up to the surface to confirm that yes, I'm facing toward the wreck right now. The monster went back into the silty water.

But it still left a trail for me to follow. A strange one.

Another of Dragon's Seamoths is wrecked here, tangled up in the reeds below me. I checked – no one was being carried in it. There's a limb of something jutting out of the glass dome, but it looks like it was cut clean off. Red. Longer than I am tall. The claw at the end is my size.

They were here. The Seamoths can't cut things, but Armsmaster has weapons he brought specifically for underwater combat. Dragon's suit might have survived, too. Glory Girl… I don't know if she was here, but at least one of them was.

They were fighting it.

Long, green reeds are strung along the sandy seabed, leading out into the silty murk. Dozens of them. I can keep following. If I dare.

Deep in the gloomy silt, a submarine slowly, quietly propels itself just above the sandy sea floor. It follows slowly dwindling lines of green. Two, then three, then only one as it ventures further and further into the murk.

Then… something else entirely, strewn lifelessly across the ground.

My hands are cold. My fingers aren't working properly. I can't write right now.

I have to write right now. I suck at drawing. I need to use words.

The trail ends here.

Here, with the dead body of a monster. The monster. I know this is the one. It's missing a face-claw, one smooth stump breaking what obviously began as a set of four.

Those claws together are big enough to grab and crush a Seamoth. They are its hand, growing out of its alien face. Four eyes. Teeth. A big red horn… a crest? Blue skin. It's like a snake, long and sinuous behind that huge clawed maw. It has two fins like arms, but stiff and without joints. It's muscular, and has a few red frills running down its back. There are four smaller arm-things at the end of its tail. A few reeds are still tangled in the frills and the back fins.

There is a jagged, smooth but uneven hole bored into the back of its skull, just behind the horn. A hole, a dead monster, and no wreckage. Not here.

I think that I don't need a trail to follow anymore. Not in this silt. There's only one place they might have gone, if they can't see any better in the murk than I can. The crashed spaceship. We're already so close, out here. It's something out of the water. And it can be seen if one just goes to the surface.

Why would they go there instead of the safe shallows?

I would. I will, now that I'm here. There was one of these monsters lurking in the silt. There might be more. The spaceship is close and counts as dry land. I want out of my Seamoth.

I want to stand where I can be sure nothing like this can reach.

I made it to the crashed spaceship without anything else happening. It was a straight, stressful blind drive. I haven't found the others, though.

That makes sense. This thing is… so big. I pulled up to the side and got out at the first place that looked hospitable. Some of it's still intact, so sheer walls, but a lot is broken down and there were plenty of places I could have gotten in. Gaping jagged openings or little crushed holes. I chose one of the latter.

I'm tired. I found a stretch of unbroken hallway close enough to the outside that I can see the sky, but far enough away that the sea monster would beach itself before it could get to me. My Seamoth is nestled against the side of the wreck. I pulled out one of the adjustable cushions in the Seamoth to use as a pillow. The air is warm.

My Seamoth might float off or get attacked in the night. Something else might attack me. But I'm so tired.

It's morning, now. Two days since the monster attacked. There was a little food and water in my Seamoth, because Dragon insisted, but I'm out now.

I had nightmares last night, but I'm better now. Yesterday was… weird. I can't believe I came all the way out here. They might not even be here. They might be back in the safe shallows now, looking for me. Was I in shock? Am I still? Is this power mentality, like Armsmaster said?

I don't know. I don't care. I'm a little more reasonable today, and that's enough for me.

Besides, I see a pillar of smoke coming from somewhere further forward on this giant wreck. It's never smoked before, not that I remember, and it's too old to have randomly caught on fire because of crash damage.

I'm going to go see what's there. On foot.

I cannot put into words how wrong and yet perfectly right it feels to be doing something on this planet in open air, knowing there's no water between me and the sky.

It's night again. Today was busy. These last few days have been busy, and not just for me.

I found them. It was their fire. They're alive, all three of them – is Dragon alive? In every way that matters. The destruction of that asshole's underwater base could have been the end of her, if she was slower to transfer herself out. She could have died, so she's alive. Logic.

Nobody's in good shape, though.

Dragon moved herself out of the base before it was wrecked. She did so by transferring herself to Armsmaster's armor, which she'd already considered doing and knew could hold her. She was able to continue controlling her Seamoths from there, thanks to his armor's transmission capabilities, but she is stuck in it. She has two Seamoths left of her own, plus mine and Glory Girl's, but they can't hold her. They're not meant for that. She's trapped in something that she can't even move on its own, because Armsmaster is in it and he built it light on purpose to avoid having to motorize most of the joints.

… I know a lot about his armor now. More than I did this morning. I'll get to that. I have all the time in the world to write tonight. The stars are bright and the seaweed campfire is still smoldering pretty hot.

Dragon is fine, but she's stuck. She's not exactly able-bodied. None of them are.

Glory Girl is the worst. I got out of the base being wrecked with a headache and possibly a minor concussion. She wasn't so lucky. The base, when it broke, caught her in the back. A glancing blow, she says.

Her back is broken.

I wish I had a sister who could heal serious injuries. Panacea isn't even on this planet, but just knowing she exists makes Glory Girl so confident that being literally crippled is a temporary setback. Which it is, so long as I can get her out of here in a week, and Armsmaster was able to stabilize her so she'll be able to make it that long without serious complications, but still! She broke her back, floated helpless in the water while a sea monster destroyed everything around her, got picked up by Dragon piloting her submarine at the last moment, and she seems fine.

Maybe. She's over on the other side of the fire right now. I have to help her take pills for the pain in a little while. It's possible she's just really good at hiding how freaked out she is right now. She hasn't said much today.

Glory Girl wasn't able to do anything when we were attacked. I got out and escaped early. Dragon had to download herself into Armsmaster's armor right away, but she still had a few Seamoths to help with. Armsmaster himself, though?

I think he's going to get a bonus or something when we get back. He definitely will if Dragon brings the video of the fight she got from her surviving Seamoths. I got to watch it, in her Seamoth – we needed to bring it to my docking place anyway, she'd buried hers in the sand and that wasn't a good place for it – and I don't think I can adequately describe it in words.

He faced that monster. He fought it, with his hands and his armor and his halberd. He rode it, stabbing while it tried to crush Glory Girl's Seamoth. It tried to scrape him off in the weeds, but he held on. He kept fighting, and in the end he killed it.

He might not be a traditional knight in shining armor, but only because armor doesn't shine very well underwater.

Armsmaster's armor was a big topic of discussion yesterday. I don't think I wrote much about it previously. Didn't see a reason to, I guess. It was his, I had no idea what any of it did, and we had bigger problems to be dealing with. I'll fix that oversight now, since he gave me a detailed rundown of everything on him:

His armor is not the usual set he wears patrolling the Bay. Neither is his halberd, for that matter. Those weren't made for long-term use underwater, and would have been worse than useless. He only had a few days to put together this new set, but luckily for all of us, his things are usually already mostly waterproof. It was just a matter of mixing and matching the old gear that would be possible to fully waterproof with so little time. As such, he came to this underwater world in a stripped-down outfit. His helmet looks more like an old Astronaut's setup than a real helmet, but with the big glass bubble optionally covered by a metal dome that slides down. It's bulky, and he doesn't keep the metal down except when he's fighting underwater, and he said he originally made it to deal with a dust Shaker who could choke or form the dust into little grinding tornados as they chose. Proofing against malignant dust apparently also served to proof against water.

The helmet covers his neck with a thick kevlar sleeve, which connects directly to the blue metal chestplate. It does a lot of things, like monitoring vitals and protecting his organs, but not much that's super, just… really important to keeping him alive. The same stiff sleeves cover his arms, save for a wrist plate with a little transparent display. His gloves are Tinkertech, and apparently can grip with more strength than any human is capable of. That's part of how he held on to the sea monster.

The chestplate connects to armor plates to go over his hips, and then to a whole set of plates that cover the rest of his legs, down to his boots. Nothing down there is Tinkertech, save for some sort of jet propulsion system in the boots that he says will only work once before shutting down, because it wasn't built for water.

Then there's his halberd. It's been stripped down, because most of the weapons were specifically not designed to work fully underwater. What it does have is a normal, sharp blade on the end, a rotating drill bit in the handle that can drill through sea monster horns at the very least, and a magnetic grip so he doesn't need to use his gloves' crushing strength to keep ahold of it.

Yeah. That's it. Turns out, it doesn't matter how impressive Armsmaster looks when he only has a few days to put together a suit for a completely different environment. The actual functionality is really limited. Dragon is in the helmet and chestplate now. Her original armor robot suit is gone. Crushed beneath the rubble of the base somewhere.

Armsmaster insists he could build a much more useful set of armor and weaponry if given a few months. I believe him. As for why we were talking about this, well…

Dragon is bodiless. Glory Girl's back is broken. Armsmaster has internal bruising, a little bit of internal bleeding that's manageable with his first aid supplies as long as he doesn't move too much, and several broken ribs. Our supplies were all in the base.

Guess who's going to have to go out and hunt fish for us to eat? And guess who gets to explore this giant alien ship? Me, and nobody, respectively! We're surviving until I can make a portal big enough to evacuate through, and that is it.

I'm okay with that. Armsmaster was literally twitching when he said that none of us could explore the giant alien ship we're literally sitting in, and Dragon was very insistent that he give me as much of his armor as he could make fit me before I went out fishing, but I don't want to explore right now. Why would I? This place is a nightmare, and we only need to sit and wait. We sent the fish back with Panacea, our equipment to do research here is gone, there's nothing else to do. Nothing we could accomplish. Nothing to risk our lives for.

Besides. I'll be back. I don't have to come back – nothing happened when my portal was dismissed without me going through it when we were attacked – but I know I will. Even if I thought the government would leave me alone after this is over, which I don't… This is it. The only thing I have.

I think, seeing that dead sea monster, that I can survive this place. With the right weapons, the right people around me. I don't know if I could survive going back to Winslow like nothing ever happened. School, Emma, it all feels like such a small concern when I'm here. Because this place is horrible. But not in the same way.

Here, the things that hurt and scare me can die.

Maybe I shouldn't show anyone else this notebook.

Armsmaster's helmet is bulky, but I like it. Makes me feel like I'm in a Seamoth even when I'm not. It's not really safe, but it makes me feel safer. Less stressed. It's too big for my head and makes my neck sore, but I wear it whenever I go under the water. It's the only part of his armor I can wear. He can't adjust the sizing of the chestplate or gloves enough to fit.

The real problem, which we kind of knew already but confirmed today, is that there are no small fish swimming around the shipwreck. Weird, right? The water is full of silt, and hid at least one huge sea monster, but that seems to be it. All of the weird one-eyed or transparent fish that always seemed to be everywhere are absent. They don't like swimming blind, I guess.

Not a problem for anything but my nerves. I just had to take my Seamoth back to the safe shallows, through the silty water. Above the sea monster's corpse, and whatever else might lurk within…

We don't have enough Seamoths to risk one exploring the silt, but Dragon sent one of the extras along with me, to act as a sacrificial distraction if something attacks. Nothing did… This time. I tried to catch enough fish to last us a few days, at least. I might only need to make one more trip before I can portal us all out of here.

We're doing a lot of sitting around these days. The little section of crashed spaceship we're occupying is nice enough, and we can see the sky without being completely exposed to the wind, but it's boring.

Yeah. You can be bored and afraid. I'm getting very used to being both at once.

I don't have it as bad as Victoria, though. She's really bored. We've talked about a lot of things, because it's either me or Dragon and Armsmaster, and those two are usually wrist-deep in an advanced toaster or other piece of detritus from the spaceship. They're not Tinkers, but they're still tinkers, if that makes any sense.

Victoria has a lot of theories about what's happening here. With my power, with this planet, with the disease, with everything. I guess she's not been able to do much more than ponder things, even before her back was broken.

She thinks I might be able to shoot jets of water at people when I'm on Earth, by conjuring up pencil-wide portals that connect to somewhere deep under the water. I never actually did that when testing my power for the Protectorate, they were focused on transportation, but I probably could. I've opened portals to at least two different places on this planet, so I can choose where they go. Why not under the water. She also thinks I probably can't open a portal to Earth in my own mouth, throat, or lungs, to be able to effectively breathe underwater.

I maybe shouldn't have suggested that. I didn't need to know so much about Manton Limits to understand that a stationary portal in my moving body might kill me. On that note, I probably can't drown someone on dry land… from the inside.

If I waited to open a big enough portal I definitely could wash someone down a street, though. Or drop them into the ocean here, which seems like a much surer deathtrap. Why would I drown someone if I could just sentence them to hell?

I didn't tell her about that plan. It would be a stupid thing to do, anyway. There are a lot of reasons for me to come here every so often, and the last thing I need is other people I tried to banish from Earth Bet shanking me underwater.

Victoria and I talked a lot about what I could do with this planet, too. I had ideas about selling the raw minerals – good, but I can't do too much at once and the government might regulate the hell out of it as parahuman-produced material, which is stupid – offering tours, and obviously charging the government for my services. She suggested a few other things too, like filming wildlife documentaries and selling those.

There's just one big problem hanging over all of that. We don't know what's happening back home. Everyone, me included, on this planet is probably infected. Panacea was very, very infected. Brockton Bay might still be having an outbreak. If Panacea couldn't figure out a cure from those alive and healthy fish, or if she died too quickly to do anything, we might portal back into an apocalyptic pandemic.

Is planning for the future a good idea when you and everyone you know might be dead in a few months?

Dragon and I had a talk.

She really is selfless.

This space ship is weirdly familiar. I haven't gone deep at all, everyone says not to, but the parts of it I have seen feel like that asshole's underwater base, writ large. And thick – the metal plating on the outer walls is much thicker here.

Armsmaster is out of easily-scavenged debris to take apart. He seems frustrated.

Seaweed fires give fish cooked over them an odd aftertaste. I hope we're not poisoning ourselves with lead or something.

Victoria is nice. I like talking to her. I haven't said anything about Winslow… but I think she knows. She was there investigating my disappearance. She says I should use the leverage I'll have with the Protectorate once we go back to get a transfer to Arcadia.

I don't want to be a Ward, and I won't be, but I think that's a good idea.

It feels like I should have more to write, but I just don't. I could make an arm-width portal now. Only a few more days.

I lost Armsmaster's helmet today. I tripped, fell, and dropped it down a hole in the space ship. It broke when it hit the bottom. Nobody can get down there to get it back. He says it doesn't matter, he was going to build a more appropriate waterproof helmet anyway. He says it must have been horribly cracked to begin with, to break from a fall, so it's good that I found out that way.

I thought he'd be angrier.

Tomorrow we go back.

Tonight, we attend a funeral.

Dragon is an AI. There's another Dragon on Earth Bet, because the backup system is there and the Dragon here being cut off from it will appear to be death to the system. She's restored from backup before.

There can only be one Dragon. Their programming compels them to destroy each other to prevent them from multiplying.

Right now, it's not a problem. The moment we go back, it would be. The Dragon here doesn't want to put the Dragon there through the ordeal of fighting for supremacy, especially because the Dragon here is guaranteed to lose. So… a funeral.

The helmet is gone, so the only place Dragon can live right now is Armsmaster's chestplate. He's going to power it down, at her request, and then wipe the software.

Better that than to be forcibly shut down in a struggle with her own clone. Or to shut down her clone.

I really thought we were all going to get out of here.

A distant star shines down on a colossal wrecked space ship. Within, on a flat piece of metal under a roof of broken beams, three figures wait. A girl, standing. A man, sitting. A girl, on her back on a makeshift stretcher.

The standing girl shrugs. A watery shroud leaks into the air in front of her, swirling out to form a circular hole in the world. She and the man awkwardly hoist the stretcher, and the three of them pass through the portal.

It snaps closed behind them with a final splash.

I think this will be my last entry in this notebook. It feels like a good stopping point. The end of a nightmare. Nothing is really over, of course, but I don't need to keep writing. Everyone knows what happened to me.

There's some things I want to put down, though, if this is the end. It would be wrong not to. Besides… Victoria thinks I should let them make a movie about this some day. I've already gotten offers. I don't want to, but she said I should wait a few years anyway. So it should be complete. Should have an ending.

Panacea lived through the sea monster attack. She's got her arm in a sling because Victoria really screwed up her shoulder with that last push, especially since Victoria had her powers back while my portal was open but didn't really notice in time, but she's healthy. One of the stupid little alien fish with big eyes was not only immune to the virus, it was immune by inoculation from something. It took her most of a day to wrap her head and power around said inoculation, but she was able to replicate it. Barely. Partially. Enough.

The disease has probably made its way across the world by now. We didn't know for sure then, but it was inevitable. Into the oceans, too. Panacea did something, which I'm not allowed to know the details of, and I'm told that won't be a problem. Panacea will be working a lot closer with the Protectorate from now on though, and I get the impression she scared them somehow.

That feels like someone else's can of worms, and I'm not opening it. The important thing is that most of the world will never experience a single symptom before they're cured.

They did have to give a press release, though. My disappearance and the rumors of a biotinker kidnapping weren't going to go away. There was also some political intent there, since they knew and I knew that I was going to be using my power and that it wouldn't stay a secret for long, if it even was one at this point. The huge rush to get an expedition to the water planet blew secrecy out of the water before it could even begin.

They asked if I wanted to name the planet. I said no. The internet is still debating a nickname for it. I think there was a poll, but it got taken down when 'Planety-Mc-Fish-Nuggets' looked like it was going to win.

Panacea healed Victoria's back, Armsmaster's broken ribs, and my bruises, of course. She's still tetchy, but I don't think she minds me. Not even when Victoria drags me to the lunch table. That is one thing – my identity is, somehow, still intact. That is a secret. Sort of. An open secret? The Protectorate didn't name names, and the investigation into my kidnapping was actually spun as a seperate investigation that happened across the virus at the same time.

Officially, I ran away from home for a week.

I don't know how much anonymity that buys me, but the Protectorate has agreed to rather a lot of things in exchange for my services taking certain individuals through to study alien technology. I'll be fine. Them hiding my identity and getting me into Arcadia is just the tip of the iceberg.

If I ever let this be made into a movie, I'll have to decide whether I want my identity to be public. That really is a decision for another day.

Oh, speaking of movies! Before she went, Dragon copied certain files to a small flash drive for her other self. One of them, unbeknownst to everyone, was the video of Armsmaster's fight with the Leviathan. Dragon released it to the public.

Armsmaster is the most popular hero in the United States right now. Funnily enough, what little I've seen of him gives me the impression he finally has what he wants the one time he really can't be bothered to enjoy it. He's working all the time, building tools and equipment for dissecting the alien space ship. He even leveraged his new fame to get a few other heroes brought into the Bay just so he can focus entirely on technology and stop patrolling for a while.

And he said I have a power-driven mentality. I'm not taking him in for a little while, because I'm not going in myself. I need a break, and the urge to use my power has died down. I still feel the pressure, but it goes away if I concentrate. Why? I don't know. I do know that if I wait long enough, I'll have enough energy stored up to make a round trip without delay, and that sounds way safer. I'll never go there without having enough energy to jump out again right away.

So… that's it. I lived. I got home. I helped make sure everyone else lived, too. Soon I'll start ferrying scientists back and forth, on a very limited basis. It's so dangerous there that not many people are willing to go personally when Armsmaster has already volunteered to take the ship apart, bit by tiny bit, and send it back to our Earth where he and everyone else can study it properly. Until then, I can relax.

End of story.

A girl, sitting alone in her room, sighs and puts a small notebook down. She goes to the bathroom, where she closes and locks the door.

A small portal swirls into existence in the bathtub. She gets down on her hands and knees and crawls through.

Infinitely far away, she crawls out into the wreck of the colossal space ship. It is night. She stands, and goes to a small, unassuming pile of rubble, brushing it aside.

A bulbous, metal-plated helmet is hidden there. She puts it on.

"They believe you're dead."

"Colin will suspect otherwise. She will suspect otherwise. But so long as she does not know and cannot reach me, we can coexist."

"What if she builds technology to reach you?"

"As long as she suspects but does not know, she won't do that. She won't be compelled to and she won't want to."

"So…"

"So, I would like to be out of this helmet. Let's go see if that fabricator survived the sea monster. Otherwise, you'll have to convince Colin to fix one. A new base of operations, a new fleet of Seamoths, some real weaponry for defenses… I'll hide while other people are around, but I'll still be here. You'll have backup. Security. Someone else who lives here. That, I can promise."

Author's Note: I had to look up a map of Reaper Leviathan spawns for this chapter, since I was too much of a chicken in my own playthrough to know how many or where they all are. (No deaths!) There are way more of them around the crashed ship than I thought. Not in the little spit of sand Taylor goes back and forth through, though. That, plus all of the terrifying crap under the surface… Suffice to say she and Dragon are going to go through a lot of Seamoths!

That's too close to the canon story, though, and I didn't write this to force Taylor through Subnautica's plot. Your imaginations can take you all from here!

As for what's next… 2025 is going to be a year of writing long-form stuff in my usual fashion, which is to say not posting anything until the whole story is done, so I'll go dark in January. I want to finish An Inner-City School before the end of the year, though, and if I don't I'll still post it as soon as it's ready. Next week… maybe.