Scythe 2 pulled another broken slab of concrete free from the collapsed entrance, metal straining at the effort. No sooner had he pulled away the slab, the rocks came crumbling down yet again, sending up another choking cloud of ancient dust. The hole at the top of the pile grew a little larger, however, and there could not have been too much left to dig through. Scythe 2 continued on dutifully, while her handlers chattered on back at the Citadel, their faces visible in the corners of Scythe 2's feed.
"Is one anticitizen worth such effort?" asked the doctor. "The rest of Scythe Team is still working to contain the antlions, and more aliens could be on the way. We should send Scythe 2 back there."
"We are not letting this one slip through our fingers," said the Administrator stubbornly. "That man … I am all but certain it was-"
"Gordon Freeman," finished the engineer coolly, the corners of his lips twitching. But we already knew that, didn't we? Something in Scythe 2 remembered. Something cared. "Well. And about time, too."
"Gordon Freeman?" asked the doctor, as if he had missed an obvious joke. Scythe 2 pried another slab loose and hurled it aside, rebar scattering as the chunk burst on the ramp behind her. "One of your colleagues, I take it?"
"Of course, the Aperture employee has not heard of Dr. Freeman," said the engineer with a laugh.
"Do not mock my former place of work, sir." The doctor's voice remained cool and steady. "We had our own breakthroughs and accolades, even if the world was not privy to them. No, I have not heard of this "Dr. Freeman." Should I have?"
"Dr. Tygan was snapped up fairly early by our benefactors." The Administrator gave the engineer a knowing look. "He did not waste time on fruitless pursuits, Dr. Shen, when he knew his mind could be put to greater use in direct service of humanity through the Universal Union. As such, he had little contact with vortigaunts and other undesirables, and never met Gordon personally."
"A pity. I always found him an engaging young man." The engineer smiled at Scythe 2, a twinkle in his eye. "Resourceful, and willing to work in conditions and on projects that other Ph.D.s considered beneath them." Something glinted in the engineer's eye. "And he had quite the arm for flinging au gratin potatoes, when the situation demanded it."
"We vowed to never speak of that again," said the Administrator through gritted teeth.
Scythe 2 widened the hole a little more. She could see inside the tunnel now. Her mind drifted towards her gauss cannon, lying behind her atop the ramp. It would low right through. Her tactical protocols rejected this out of hand. Too much structural instability. The entire tunnel could collapse.
"His willingness to perform manual labor … that was how he ended up in the test chamber during the Resonance Cascade." The Administrator sighed, looking oddly forlorn and old for a moment. "At ground zero. Technically the entire Black Mesa debacle could be left at his feet, but that would be fallacious."
"Who would you blame then, Wallace?" aske the doctor. Something made Scythe 2 pause and listen, her protocols frozen. Yes, Doctor. Who is to blame here?
"Perhaps some blame could be laid at the feet of the Anomalous Materials staff, who pushed the equipment to 105% of its normal capacity and ignored a reading that indicated a potential risk of dimensional breach during the operation." Wallace Breen cleared his throat. "Perhaps I, the administrator, could be blamed for signing off on the operation." A shadow passed over Dr. Breen's brow. "But I know who I would blame. The one who brought us that sample. Eli was right. We should have aborted that test."
"And who was that?" asked the doctor. But Breen waved him off.
"It doesn't matter; it would take too long to explain, and you would not believe me. What matters is the here and now. Scythe 2?" Scythe 2 started moving again. "Scythe 2, you need to expedite that process. Get that tunnel opened and up and engage in pursuit!"
"You still have not explained Freeman's importance," persisted the doctor. "He is hardly the only Black Mesa survivor. I am speaking to two of them." Two.
"Gordon Freeman was a research associate who had barely earned the distinction of his Ph.D. at the time of the Black Mesa incident." Breen rolled his eyes. "He had the good fortune to be clad in a Hazard suit at the time, and managed to acquire a small collection of weapons. The worst excesses of the Black Mesa incident can be laid directly at his feet – the slaughter of vortigaunts and soldiers alike."
"But he killed the beast at the other end of the rift," murmured the engineer. "I was there. I saw him off. He stopped the first invasion. And he freed all of vortikind."
"Due to poetic license and alien manipulation, he has acquired an almost messianic reputation in the eyes of certain citizens." Breen and the engineer's eyes met. There came a pregnant pause. "I am sure we, we of such a scientific bent, would not stoop to such levels of magical thinking and idolatry." The hole was now wide enough for a normal man to hunch through. But Scythe 2 did not meet the criteria. Scythe 2 continued to shift the base aside.
"When frozen by despair, you will flock to the heat of hope no matter how unlikely salvation might seem," said Dr. Shen, unintimidated. "The man survived impossible odds under terrible circumstances. Eli and Izzy barely escaped Anomalous Materials alive, and they were not at ground zero. He is the Free Man."
"The Opener of the Way, yes, I know." Breen ground his teeth. "Spare me the pseudo-spiritualistic mumblings of a lost people. The vortigaunts' worship I can understand, at least, but why our wayward citizens have latched on to it – well. I suppose you are right. It can be only desperation."
"So, he is an icon, then." The doctor rubbed his chin. "I see. You are eager to catch the man in order to use him as a symbol?"
"That or hang him from a tree," replied Breen bluntly. "He is unlikely to go quietly. He would be more of a boon in our enemy's hands than ours. Scythe 2, you are to pursue and capture Freeman if possible, but amputate if you must."
"Confirmed," boomed Scythe 2 automatically. He does not have the suit. A single shot would-
But the thought did not last. Something in Scythe 2's brain found the origin and clamped down, hard. With a pinch, Scythe 2 found himself able to focus fully on his task at long last. Now, there was a gap the soldier could sidle through.
Scythe 2 retrieved his rifle and stepped into the dark.
"Engaging thermal." The pitch black turned into a world of harsh oranges and reds against a background of muted shifting purple. A green laser, previously invisible, shone out from the barrel of his gun. "Zero movement. Proceeding."
"Overhead clearance looks good," said Breen, causing the engineer to chuckle.
"I would hope so. Trucks were supposed to come through here, once. We would need a lot more MELD before we could turn Scythe 2 into a strider." The engineer's laughter died quickly when Breen adopted a contemplative expression. "I – I assure you that is impossible."
"Oh yes," said Dr. Breen absentmindedly, still thinking. "I am sure."
"Scythe 1 – Sector 10 Infestation Zone sterilized." The soldier's voice crackled through Scythe 2's helmet. "Requesting authorization to reinforce Scythe 2."
"What is the status of the train carriage and its passengers?" asked Dr. Breen while Scythe 2 advanced down the tunnel.
"Multiple citizens amputated. Driver car and supervising protection officer have been deserviced."
"Overwatch, send in a dropship to retrieve our wayward citizens and bring them safely to the city." Dr. Breen paused for a moment. "Two and Three check the hamlet as well, if you would. The rest of you, make sure our citizens do not run on us. And keep them secure from any other threats. We may also experience additional aerial incursions."
"We need to secure the orbit," said the doctor. "They're hitting trains left and right."
"We are prepping satellites at multiple citadels, but it will take time to launch them out of the atmosphere, Tygan." Breen sighed, obviously frustrated. "For the moment, we need to hunt down Freeman."
"He looks just how I remembered him," murmured the engineer. "On the day of the test. How is that possible?"
"We can discuss that later," said Breen sharply. "Scythe 2, any movement?"
"Zero movement." Scythe 2 pressed onward. Up ahead, beams of light shone through a hole in the tunnel roof – something had apparently fallen through both the hillside and into the tunnel. One glance at her feet revealed the source – an empty headcrab shell. Her suit also picked up on numerous stress fractures as a result of this. "Caution: structural instability detected. Gauss rifle may cause unacceptable collateral damage. Personal integrity compromised."
"Naturally there was a hole all along that we could have entered through." Dr. Breen sounded a hair's breadth away from throwing something. "One stray shot from that cannon and the whole tunnel could collapse." Breen sucked in through his teeth. "Tygan, what's the status on the Ramis Project?"
"A 53% increase in fuel efficiency." The doctor sounded quite proud. "I can probably increase that number over time, as well as the intensity of the beam. This substance … elerium, you called it?"
"Our Benefactors pried its name from the corpses of our opposition." Breen did not sound pleased about this. "But yes, elerium. Used a catalyst and fuel source. It may have some other anomalous properties as well. These mutons have used it in religious ceremony."
"So, we are not fighting brain-dead automatons," said the engineer, brow furrowing. "They are also living, thinking creatures."
"Try not to feel too sympathetic for them, doctor." Breen gave a wave of his hand. "They did come here to invade us. Rampart 1, deliver the Ramis Package to Hangar 4 and prepare it for skydrop."
"You're going to ship the weapon all the way to the coast?" asked the engineer, incredulous.
"It's not that far." Breen's head disappeared, likely checking a map. "Close to, uh, Ravenholm. Not too far from where our dear old friend Eli lives."
"Ravenholm," muttered the engineer darkly. Breen ignored him.
"Scythe 2, wait for reinforcement and weapon drop. Do not fire your gauss rifle within the tunnel. Scan for Freeman and pursue if you see him, but otherwise wait for drop. ETA, eight minutes."
A rough estimate. Scythe 2 waited in place. A few minutes later, two more white-suited companions joined her - 5 and 6.
"Got nothing on my radial."
"Zero movement. Scan for possible necrotics. Stand by for supply drop."
"Are you sure you can stand to wait, Wallace?" asked the doctor. "I thought you were desperate to catch this Freeman?"
"I will not be made a fool of," snapped Breen. "The last thing I need is to spend half a day digging up the ruin of Scythe 2 to recover the MELD investment because Scythe 2 insisted on shooting the good doctor just because he brandished a crowbar at it. Besides – there is little chance of missing with a gluon gun. And given the presence of at least one shell, we may very well stumble on Freeman with a headcrab latched to his skull." Breen rubbed his chin. "Scythe 5 and 6, sweep down the tunnel. Report anything you find. Immobilize Freeman if you see him but try not to sterilize."
"Confirmed. Scythe 5 advancing."
A minute or two later, after the footsteps of her companions faded, the familiar whine of a dropship echoed through the tunnel. As the underside of the crab-like creature became visible through the hole in the tunnel, dust kicked off the floor. Once I would have had to blink. Or shield my eyes. But Scythe 2 did not move as the dropship released its payload. The crate smacked into the headcrab shell and slid down it before sliding open in a hiss of released pressure.
"The man who originally developed this could not bear to use it on a living creature," said Dr. Breen, eyes lighting up at the sight of the weapon – a massive backpack linked to a hose. "But alas, we live in unconscionably uncivilized times. Scythe 2, requisition that weapon. It's quite good for close encounters."
"The addition of elerium to the gluon gun has greatly increased its maximum firing time," reported the doctor, glasses glinting in the viewscreen. "The gluon gun was previously more of a curiosity than a feasible weapon; we are not exactly flush with depleted uranium cores, and the weapon is exceedingly difficult to load in the field. Now, however, these particular shortcomings have ceased to be an issue."
"All you need to know, Scythe 2, is that whatever you point it at will die." Breen chuckled. "And you can point it at an awful lot of things. Right now, we just need Freeman. Scythe 5 and 6, report!"
"Presence of anticitizens detected. Lambda sign. Main tunnel collapse. Evidence of use of emergency side tunnel."
"Amputated necrotics. Unknown toxin detected in loose virome."
"They did something to the headcrab." Scythe 2 locked the gauss rifle to her shoulder, where it magnetized in place, the stock folding in. Then she lifted the backpack, snapped it in place as it also magnetized. Then she lifted the hose and nozzle. "Scythe 2, are you set? Go check it out."
Scythe 2 obeyed Breen's instructions and continued onwards. Sure enough, the tunnel ahead slanted downwards and in on itself, victim to decades of nonexistent maintenance and apparently occasional shelling. Scythe 5 and 6 stood to either side of a recently opened emergency door on the right, pulse rifles trained on the inside. Something warm but quickly losing heat showed up on thermal.
"There's the zombie." The doctor leaned into his monitor as Scythe 2 stamped over. "Hmm. The corpse appears undamaged. But the crab…"
"Poisoned. The thin men can spit poison. Headcrabs are apparently susceptible." Breen rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Two more dead down the corridor. Scythe 2, do you have clearance in this tunnel?"
Scythe 2's legs shortened, sinking into her chassis as she compacted partway into a cube. Her arms likewise retracted inwards, letting the hose dangle freely as she relinquished her grip. Turning sideways, she just barely fit inside the thankfully empty corridor.
"Restricted movement." Breen sighed.
"Five and Six, take point." Scythe 2 stepped aside and let her smaller companions lead the way. "Follow. I know what is at the other end of this tunnel – they will not get far."
Scythe 2 edged her way through the smaller tunnels while the doctor and engineer watched with rapt attention.
"We need to adapt the human form, I think. Imitate bone first, before creating armor." The doctor scribbled something on an unseen notepad. "The second iteration should take after our crb synths and striders. They have impressive maneuverability for their size."
"We are not turning Scythe 2 into a strider!" The engineer's anger looked plain across his wrinkled face.
"Not what I am suggesting. I am suggesting that our current iteration of the MEC suit is unsuitable for cramped environments. I am looking to crimp certain design notes the Universal Union has deigned to share with us."
"We can discuss this later, gentlemen," said Breen, spreading his arms wide. "Scythe 2, disengage thermal. Sunlight ahead."
The tunnel, fresh with the corpses of necrotics (a dual death, like mine) opened out into the gray sunshine. Before them, an endless expanse of rubble, and soon-to-be rubble.
"You won't see many rebels in this wasteland," said Breen grimly. "All the hiding places have been taken. By worse things."
The highway once led directly into City 17. Now its foundations had either collapsed, dribbling stone and steel over the already blasted earth, or chunks of it had given way entirely, due to nature or … something that was not nature. An old gas station, its roof mostly gone and its pumps long empty, greeted them on their right, old wrappers blowing by in the breeze.
"That gluon gun appears pointless here, Breen," said the engineer. Wallace waved him off.
"It needs to be field tested. And besides, we don't want wild shots here, either. And the gluon gun is more effective against smaller targets. Expect bullsquids, houndeyes and headcrabs to be roaming around the ruins. Keep your radials spinning, gentlemen. Sweep and advance – we're sending in a hunter chopper."
"Confirmed. Continuing sector sweep."
Scythe 2 started up the hill. Here, in the wastelands outside City 17, the land turned into a concrete jungle, complete with green bubbling ooze underfoot. Her Geiger counter crackled as she stomped through it, but she was long past caring about such concerns. Something deep down wanted to laugh hysterically.
"Scythe 2, Freeman did not have a HEV suit, so he will avoid radioactive regions. You can avoid them as well."
Scythe 2 complied, leaving the underside of what could be called Highway 17 and climbing up the nearby slope for a better view. Gravel and rock skidded against her heavy feet as she climbed, but she did not fall. She turned, the sun automatically shaded by her vision, and looked down from her fresh vantage point. Highway stretching broken to City 17. Pools of ooze and piles of broken concrete beneath. Hills and woods around us. But now, something in the distance … groaned. Scythe 2 caught a flash of movement from behind part of the bridge.
"Possible reinfection. Scythe 2 sweeping in." Scythe 2 moved at a clip well beyond what any other member of the Transhuman Overwatch could accomplish, covering dozens of meters in seconds while her companions followed behind, covering her rapid advance. The groaning grew louder, coupled with the sound of … tree bark, crackling. Odd gargling, a low humming.
"Oh, what have you gotten yourself into, Freeman?" asked Breen, a grin suddenly playing on his face. "Is this what I think it is?"
Scythe 2 rounded a cracked highway support and looked down. There, from a pit, rising up about twenty feet – three green, blade-headed tentacles, currently probing the surrounding wastes, feeling out the area around another support, tapping at the entrance of a small run-down building, grasping at a patch of grass – the one oasis in the sea of dust and ruin.
And there, moving ever so slowly up the hill on the other side of them, heading towards City 17 on foot, two figures turned to look at Scythe 2.
"That's a big one," murmured Dr. Shen, clearly worried. "Might have other nests it can poke its heads through – tunnels worming through the earth all over. God, what has happened to our home?"
Scythe 2's protocols had not been adapted for xenian tentacles yet. She remained very still and silently paged Overwatch for direction.
"Scythe 2?" asked Breen impatiently. "Scythe 2, what are you doing?"
"Standard protocol for Overwatch soldiers is to request reinforcement and remain still and quiet in the presence of tentacles." The doctor sounded amused by this.
"We don't have time for this," snapped Breen. "Scythe 2, grab Freeman. Kill the thing if you have-"
Propelled by the order, but also something deeper, Scythe 2 charged forward, feet pounding against the soil. The two tentacles that could face her immediately rotated to face this new sound, lashing out. Scythe 2 shifted to the side at the last moment, letting one tentacle pass over her, striking at the earth she stood at a second ago. She grabbed hold of the top of the blade running over the head, let go of the nozzle, and punched once.
The tentacle's carapace caved inward, and when Scythe 2 retracted her fist, it came away thick with green. She released her grip. More viridian flood poured out of the tentacle's wound. It rose high into the air, well out of reach. The other tentacle retreated, preparing to lash out again.
This time Scythe 2, but the tip of the creature's head still chipped at her side. Her armor registered non-negligible damage. Part of her armor fell away in a shredded heap. But Scythe 2 felt nothing, save perhaps muffled elation. She punched once, twice at the hardened neck of the tentacle. Her fists scuffed the neck first and then opened a small wound. The tentacle swept its entire body left, trying to knock the MEC trooper off her feet. She instead caught the tentacle as it came towards her, her grip clamping in place.
The tentacle rose, shaking, trying to dislodge the MEC trooper, whose hydraulic-infused grip refused to loosen. She engaged her feet, kicking, trying to create a foothold in the creature. The carapace gave way fully this time, and Scythe 2 now had four points of contact with the creature. It moaned and roared. Below Scythe 5 and 6 watched in what might have been awe, or might have been their programming. Scythe 2 looked down at them from the rear camera in her back, before returning to the action.
More secure than before, Scythe 2 released her right hand and reached for the gluon gun's hose. She pressed it into the open wound, pushing it in until taut. Then she squeezed the trigger.
The glowing blue beam came out in a scream of superheated particles. Tissue melted and parted under the deluge of energy, shooting up and down the tentacle as it went. The carapace, once a bright green, now began to turn orange, the color running up and down the tentacle like a lighter's flame held beneath a leaf. The fire spread, and Scythe 2 disengaged the gluon gun. Cheering echoed from her viewscreen.
"My creative combat programming in action," declared the doctor proudly.
"I never thought we would be designating such a unit for environmental cleanup," muttered the engineer in disbelief, but also a smidge of pride. "Will this kill the entire creature?"
Scythe 2 released her grip and fell to earth. The tentacle tumbled down in a charred heap, the smoke now rising from its wounds. The other tentacles, groaning in similar pain, retreated into the pool. Threat eliminated. Proceed-
But another protocol overrode it, unbidden. Infection zone is still active. Prosecute. The elation rose. Scythe 2 stared at the pit where the tentacles had retreated.
"Excellent work, Scythe 2," said Breen, breathless. "Now, proceed-"
But Scythe 2 stormed forward and leapt. She fell like the Sword of Damocles, feet braced for unforgiving contact with either the ground or the head of a tentacle.
Her left foot found one, her right the other. Her right foot cracked, but so did the tentacle, which screamed in a manner previously undocumented by all known records. Switching back to thermal, Scythe 2 caught the tentacle, the tip of its blade now hanging loosely from its head by a few threads of muscle, retreat into a wide tunnel. Scythe 2 followed it, the tentacle (and her superior) groaning all the while.
"Scythe 2, Freeman is the primary target here!" Breen's normally pale face took on a pinkish tone. The others did not share his sentiment.
"Kill it! Finish it!" shouted the engineer. "While we've got it on the ropes!"
"This would be the first documented instance of a tentacle being slain without high explosives or air support, Wallace," said the scientist, momentarily covering his mouth with a smooth hand for some reason. "Besides, we did want to field test the gluon gun."
"Scythe 2, sweeping in. Sterilizing." Scythe 2 could hear the tentacle slithering backward as she sprinted onwards. Something slithered away at speed, but her legs, even with the right foot damaged, carried her onwards faster. She arrived just in time to see the tentacle withdraw through the other side of the tunnel and coil inwards. Below, something squid-shaped and red-hot on thermal looked up with crimson eyes not accustomed to seeing anything other than dinner as it was pulled in. Oh, yes.
Scythe 2 dove down as the wounded tentacle reared its broken head. Other appendages, far more than three, stretched up and out through other tunnels. And now the appendages slid back, their thick necks coiling about the base. Scythe 2 vaulted over them, charging for the brain. The eyes widened as she drew near.
Scythe 2's fists glanced away with an embarrassing scuffing sound. This close to the base, the heads dared not touch her, but it was unclear if she would be able to crack the creature's skull. She applied the gluon gun. The thick green carapace lit up, and the creature roared in pain, the eyes closing and twitching in their sockets, but nothing doing. Scythe 2 expended half the pack and produced nothing but steam. The tentacles waited, six heads twitching in pain and anger.
I can see the mouth. It remained resolutely shut, however. No Overwatch protocols would help, here – all action was defined as "discretionary." How familiar. She reached for her gauss cannon and unfolded the stock. She placed the barrel directly against the creature's closed eye socket, holding it secure. The high whine of a building charge echoed around the cavern.
Scythe 2 held the trigger. A second longer. Another second. Do I dare? The thought came from the black of her mind and vanished into the black of the cavern. The scream of the gauss rifle rose another octave. Another. Breen opened his mouth to say something.
Scythe 2 released the trigger. A stream of brilliant orange sparks flew from the tentacle's base. The beast let loose an echoing roar and a gurgle as its skull split open in a spray of green. Its appendages lashed out against the sides of the cavern, splitting soil and rock. Scythe 2 paid them no mind. She grabbed the hose and fed it inside of the now-open beast.
"Sterilizing."
The cavern glowed blue. The beast's limbs bucked and fell, twitching, as the brain that guided them quickly dissolved into its component particles. Scythe 2 fed the energy inside the cavity until it collapsed in on itself in a mess of hissing goop. She pulled the hose back and refit her gauss rifle in place.
"Cephalopod sterilized. Resuming sector sweep."
"Yes," said Dr. Breen, eyes wide, not quite believing what he had just seen. "Yes, quite. We need – we need to get on Freeman."
The scientist cleared his throat. "I think our Benefactors will be quite pleased with what we have developed."
"This is nothing until we acquire more MELD to manufacture additional MECs!" snapped Breen as Scythe 2 continued her climb back up out of the tunnel.
Eventually she came to a vertical section, but it was no matter. Her legs sectioned back downwards and then engaged like pistons, flying up at speed, small turbines engaging in her feet. She landed hard on the outside of the pit, chassis steaming.
"Airwatch reports localized disturbance in your sector." Dispatch's voice filled the air. The thrumming of a helicopter's blades followed it. "Sector alert: xenopathogen presence detected. Local stabilization teams: Clamp. Sterilize. Cauterize."
The hunter chopper soared overhead. Scythe 2 looked up just in time to see it catch the first energy blast.
The green leapt from a cloud, which parted to reveal a small UFO. The first blast shattered the cockpit, sending the chopper spinning out of control as both pilots vaporized. The second split the entire vehicle in half.
"They're trying to evacuate Freeman!" Breen slammed a fist against his desk. "We cannot let him go with them. Scythe 2 – do something!"s
Scythe 2 ran forward, eyes on the UFO as it descended, close to where she was. Five and Six were reporting in, opening fire fruitlessly on the craft as it landed, a ramp sliding below. Scythe 2 could see two citizens limping towards the entrance. No time to reach them. Two protocols presented themselves, leaving the discretion to Scythe 2. Something small but lingering selected an option. It is more profitable, after all.
Scythe 2 grabbed the gauss rifle and began charging. She pointed it square – not at Freeman, but where the reactors had been on the last craft she had boarded. It did not matter that there were between five to ten feet of solid alien alloy between the initial impact and where the reactor stood. No. It does not matter. The whining increased in pitch.
"Scythe 2, what are you doing?" asked Breen. "Scythe 2, I need you to-"
Scythe 2 released the trigger earlier than she had against the tentacle. The blast shifted her entire body to the side as the gun recoiled, but the beam flew true. Brilliant orange hit the side of the craft square, leaving a smoking hole. A heartbeat later, an explosion of brilliant emerald ripped through the rear of the craft.
"Holy shit!" shouted Dr. Breen as the UFO listed and then sunk from hovering just barely above the ground to, well, becoming a part of the ground. Loose bits of the craft fell from the outer surface, skittering into the dirt. Scythe 2 stood, gun smoking, quite satisfied deep down. Below, Freeman and his companion, after pausing momentarily in panic, began rounding the craft, heading for another tunnel beyond it.
"Freeman, get after him!"
But something chimed in Scythe 2's head.
"MELD presence detected." Dr. Breen bit his lip.
"The substance is on a timer, Wallace," prompted the scientist gently. "How badly do you want Freeman?"
"Anticitizen Freeman proceeding to Derelict Zone 6." Scythe 2 remained still, waiting for the ultimate directive from her Administrator. "MELD and additional exogens obstructing pursuit."
"You do need the MELD, don't you?" asked the engineer, his amusement obvious.
Wallace Breen brought a hand to his mouth and bit on his index knuckle, thinking. Sweat beaded on his brow.
"Without that suit, he's dead, anyway." Breen breathed heavily. "All local stabilization teams converge on crash site. Sterilize and disassemble." Breen took another deep breath.
"Forget about Freeman. Might not have even been him, anyway."