Red, Green and the Kaleidoscope

by Napster153

In the Land of Nod, there was a common, unspoken rule. Power defines authority, and he who commands the past, conquers the future and defines the present. The mystery of what was once thought to be mere savages and brutes was one that would haunt Remnant for what would be many years to come. What was certain, however, was that Nod was here to stay, as it always has.

22. Chapter 19: Anticipation (-38Years)

Chapter 19: Anticipation

Somewhere in the woodlands of Mistral, there were people travelling underneath the quiet shade of the trees.

They were feeble people. Meek in posture and with protruding bones.

It was all they could afford along with the rags and fibre that made up the clothes and daily necessities.

Small tents and houses were made and pitched beside a riverbank. It was the first source of clean water available in weeks, one miraculously bereft of even Grimm no less.

For a group that had been forced to travel for the past two years in fear and silence, it was an answer from above.

It was the hope of the elders that the river would improve the sullen looks and glum atmosphere of the nomads. It was obvious what would happen otherwise, and what few fighters they had were beyond exhausted from staying awake day and night as part of their duties.

Everything looked slightly brighter in their little world. Children were allowed to roam. Women washed clothes and bathed in the river. Men slept or tended to their families. Everyone was busy, but content in every way.

And then the screaming happened.

To the few who'd survived the first time they heard such a noise, their immediate instinct was to throw themselves to the ground. The sound of blades being unsheathed filled the air and their wielders grew tense. Everyone waited with bated breath for the imminent burst of fire and heat.

But it never came.

Still, the screaming persisted and someone soon recognised it as children's. They ran to the river, and sure enough the source was from children playing in the shallow waters. Some of the women were rushing towards them, but the currents were making it difficult.

The person, a man, who was watching the whole thing shouted.

Immediately the attention of the youngsters was turned towards the one who called them. The two in the river noted the man's stern and angry expression, it made them wince.

Carefully, he began descending into the river hislves, hurling curses and anger over their loudness. Said man was mad over they're incessant screaming, and how they'd frightened everybody over it.

As his feet touched the cold, moving waters, a chill rose. The feeling of every hair standing on edge. It was all ignored under the assumption that it was just the temperature from the water.

Pressing on, the man made to close the distance, eager to pull the children out of the river as punishment for disturbing the silent peace.

Three steps from the children, something rose from the water behind him. One more step, and a hand was clasped over him mouth as something cold and sharp was pressed over his throat.

Pain. And more screaming.

The screaming began anew.

---

Ming couldn't help but smile as he broke through the treeline.

Target rich environment. So many soft, juicy game.

His weapon of choice today was a Spas-12. The weapon barked and spat a special slug of his own making. The first of the game he felled was easily five metres out, and around four and a half feet tall. Its head split into three perfect pieces.

The quarries were running now.

His right-hand man pushed ahead of him. A burly man, with both his sleeves rolled up and a flamethrower primed and ready. No word was said for none needed to be. This was a free-for-all, and any who failed to meet the minimum was ousted…. Violently.

Only one rule of cohesion remained, and that was through the radio. Anything else was restricted. They were hunters here and now, and hunters stayed silent even as they're targets bucked and ran.

Sprinting forward, he and the remaining five in Zulu One made extra effort to steer clear of the firespitter. A steady purr, and the acrid smell of wood was soon saturating the air. Screams of fright and pain filled the air.

He wanted to cherish, but the hunt didn't allow it. Not on these grounds, anyhow.

Three figures ran ahead. One quarry had a weapon. A made-in-shit spear. He barked once and sure enough, that familiar luminous barrier sparked. He slammed the shotgun and fired again but the barrier held. By then it was closing on him now, the prey acted on fight rather than flight.

He aimed low and instinctively switched to semi-auto. The weapon fired in quick succession; one to shatter the spear, another to swat the hand holding it away and another into the shoulder. As a result, the prey went from a desperate charge to a harmless flailing dummy. He responded in kind by decking the man with the stock of his weapon.

Aura or not, the momentum of its run caused it to topple and land flat on its back. Ming brought his weapon to bear and fired, emptying the weapon. There was fascination worming into his mind as he noted how the thing's Aura kept alive despite having its upper jaw caved in.

He pressed his boot into the wound cavity and got to work reloading. Looking ahead, he grimaced that the other two prey he'd been chasing were already taken by one of his men. Thankfully, there were others, and he was quick to start running and chasing after the fleeing herd.

But not before he dropped a pre-prepared vial of incendiary into his first downed prey.

Eventually, they managed to corner the lowly things into the river. Sadly, they didn't have much in the way of time to collect a few for livestock this time. Ming hated to admit it but these savages were getting more sly and difficult to root out. He thought about trying to persuade that mutant for more support.

The mere thought of which just served to make him more mad.

So, with little care he ordered the rest carved and tenderised on the spot. It was a shame Grimm didn't take to eating carcasses, else it would've been a clean hunt. What was too difficult, was put on the end of a flamethrower.

The hunt, in its entirety, lasted little more than twenty minutes.

The final headcount was less than a hundred of all sizes. To Colonel Ming, that was a shame.

He sorely wished to have another, proper chance at killing those Huntsmen again.

---

I awoke to see blackness.

So many years ago, I'd have been more perplexed and on edge. Now was no different, save it took me more than a few seconds to register something.

The breather was gone.

A hand reached to where my mouth should've been, and another poised itself to claw at the nearest thing that came.

But neither hand fulfilled their task. In fact, there was no limb to be had either, nor mouth for that matter.

My heart shuddered and I felt as it sank.

His chuckle was all the proof I needed as to where I was.

---

I awoke again.

I felt half in water and the other half humid.

I breathed.

My stretched mouth contorted and pushed against the apparatus.

A familiar click and mechanical whining followed. I became semi-relieved.

I was not there in that void, no longer.

Still, the other part that was still tense demanded I rose from my unorthodox bed. Careful I was, to not disturb the person beside me. A hard enough fact for she was as honed in instinct as she was in mind.

As my feet touched the steel floor, I got to work putting on the bare minimal in attire. Mainly, the collars and rudimentary exoskeleton along with the compact stealth field that can operate remotely for a time.

Many days, I preferred not being in my full get up. The material irritated the skin no matter what was done, and when the heat penetrated the layers, it can prove unbearable. I was fortunate still in some ways that my condition didn't cause me to leave a trail of particles under normal circumstances, provided I remained humid for that same time period.

My musings cut short when I heard shuffling. Snapping to the steel berth I slept on; I noted the figure still sleeping beside it on her own bed. The few hairs still on my skin stood straight expecting nuisances.

A minute later, and I noted nothing else happened. I left the room as discrete as I can right after.

---

The place I went to was an unmarked section of the base.

It was specially constructed at my request, and mirrored the one back in Khar Toba, in the desert. The original was now empty and purified of any save for the ash stains stuck to the surfaces.

Here, the room was covered in a thick cloud of emerald. It was sickly, but wholesome at the same time. The ground here was carefully maintained to keep it at a certain level of vigour at all times. Lest the contents of the room spread to other areas of the base.

I sat cross-legged in the room. This place was where I went to clear my mind at its worst. Never was I one to love enclosed spaces, but a simple look at my right hand reminded me that I would never be the same man I was before.

Both my hands no longer had nails. They were pulled off along with the nail bed and replaced with a plate that served as a base for an articulated exoskeleton that ran across the length of my forearm to my fingertips. These were countermeasures suggested for when my condition worsens… but I knew it was also the means to shackle me.

I flexed my right limb, taking mundane fascination over the steel claws that ran across the length and down each digit of my fingers. My nerves still worked, somewhat, and I could feel the little wheels and motors work to push the sharp metals in place.

'FGbrruurpp.'

I blinked, small particles dancing in my vision. Turning left, I almost couldn't stop myself from smiling.

A mass of flesh; thick mucus, fat and blood clots. It both rolled and tumbled beside me. Holes on its surface expelled gas, and some areas of its texture stretched to show green lantern organs.

The visceroid. Tiberium's worst punishment for the unworthy.

This one was just one of a few in the room. They both fed on tiberium, and other lifeforms. To them, anything that could join their agony was a welcome addition to their mass. They lived until the day they broke down….. just like me.

Misery loves company.

The creature next to me gargled, burped and wretched, but otherwise made no effort to move closer to me. I ran the claw on my left index on its surface, careful to not puncture or scrape with what I knew to be very sensitive tissue at any given place. I barely noticed the way it seemed to turn and nudged into the touch.

As I prodded the mass, I pondered on my recent experience. He was expecting things. I chastised the decision to send me here, but I knew better as well than to ask for his patience.

My nostrils flared, and I felt the itch as the micro-particles passed in and out of my nasal cavity. My mind ignored images of ghastly photos of what my new windpipe looked like. I swallowed, taking the chance to savour not needing my breather inside the room.

That was when the hidden speakers in the room chimed.

"Master, it's 0640. It's time to get ready."

Grumbles surfaced from within me. The visceroid next to me gargled, and bobbed, almost as if in agreement with me. With one last flick of the air between me and the creature, I stood up. The metal and motors whirred and whined, in rhythm of my bone's pops.

Turning around, I saw a figure behind the beyond the airlocks. I approached, idlily scraping claws on the crystals along my path. The sound they make was as alien as their origin and oddly pleasing to the skin on my back.

---

It took well over a minute or two for the airlocks to purify me. Conveniently, everything I needed for the day was also readily available inside, saving me precious time from walking back to my room.

Altogether, getting dressed was a three-step process. Normally, it'd be two, but I was never one to skimp out on sanitation when it comes to Tiberium.

The claws and most of my exo had to be replaced. These were melted down and then refabricated before being sent back to my room. The nuisance was the breathing apparatus, as it had to be shoved down my throat and nose each time, I took it off. The machine was heavy without the collar supports.

Between the replacement of machinery, came my second birthday suit. The nano weaved material was designed to keep my skin humidified and prevent the loose particles that fell from being an invisible contaminant wherever I went. Only then was the exosuit and breather attached and locked in place.

Finally, was my attire proper. The long coat, the helm, a seaxe that I kept on a sheath on my left thigh, and the one selfish thing I asked from R&D.

A working Katsumata series D pistol.

Its polymer grip was crimson, and it bore the Scorpion in black. The gun, obviously, was given an actual functional design with two alt-fires. I noted the scratches and wear of the weapon.

Hisses signalled the completion of my purification, and wardrobe change. Holstering the sidearm, I walked out into the hallway. Rain awaited me, her serene look belied the concern she had.

As much as I 'liked' that room behind me, I made it a point to also keep my visits uncommon.

"He came once more," I confessed. "Perhaps, my plans weren't as acceptable as I'd hoped."

Her blue eyes widened hearing this.

"Then, what do we do?"

"….. For now, nothing. We're already this committed as is, and it'll be worse to start jumping and stumbling over ourselves trying to prove nothing. Now come, and let's see what the morning's report offers us."

She nodded, and we both walked to the one elevator at the end of the hall.

I breathed, cycling new air through the valves and pumps. Cold were my lungs, and I close my airs to savour the moment, despite my own irritation. With a thought, I opened a panel to view the woman at my side.

Gently, I twisted my hand and manoeuvred so that my right overlapped with her left. She reciprocated the act and I felt the strength in that grip surge through me.

"System update, complete. Good morning, commander, mistress," the ever present and reliable EVA greeted.

"Morning to you too EVA. How was the night shift?"

"There has been no report of suspicious activity throughout the network during your sleep cycle. Staff shift is currently underway, and the cafeteria is serving the Monday special. Would you like me to make a reservation?"

"Thank you, but no. However, do prepare the range for my arrival. I'll be going through the standard routine for today."

"As you wish, commander."

At that moment, the doors began to open. I raised the stealth field as the doors finished and walked out. My grasp slipping out of hers.

Time to get to work.

---

"Attention! Commander present!"

"At ease."

Every head in the large room snapped to the one doorway, noting the presence that had seeming parted out of thin air. I took note of those who were currently using the range.

"Petra-3B, how have you all been? Anymore new tallies added?"

"We wished. Thanks to our glorious leader over here," one of the men replied.

"You fuck up a job once, and they never let you live it down," grumbled another. "Can't you make duels legal again, sir?"

"Most of you have already enough leeway as is. The EvaNet still impresses me with how many new ways to die some of you come up with. You guys saw the one in Fort Gaddi?"

That got a few chuckles and winces.

"Getting railed between a truck and a pig is a fucking disgrace to humanity, man. What's wrong with Zulu company?" someone asked.

"It's Ming's boys. What'd you expect?" another intruded. "Haven't you heard? They found another of those enclaves last week."

"Shoot, for real?!" the first man then turned to me. "That true, sir?"

I faced the militant who'd ask the question. The helm I wore obscured my expression, which in this case was fortunate given that I wasn't particularly thrilled that word had gotten around fast.

Colonel Ming was a loose cannon and a particularly blatant sin of mine. Alas, even with the recruitment pool EVA had filtered for me, there were others who were debatably worse.

Inhaling, I formulated a reply.

"Colonel Ming has his duty and purpose for the greater goal of the Brotherhood. While his tactics are indeed gruesome, his thoroughness is still more noteworthy. End it here, and focus on your own tasks, brothers."

I left no room for discussion, and the men seemed to catch this as well. They returned to their own activities, and I with mine.

Walking to the far end, I approached the counter where the munitions sergeant stood at the waiting.

"Good morning, sir."

"Morning, sergeant, how's the new shipment organisation coming along?"

A click of a tongue. "Can't say I'm nostalgic to see Raptors again. Considering those things shred plates like no tomorrow, I hate to see what they'd do with hollow points."

"I ask that you bear with it. They'll be saving us a great deal of trouble for when we take a leap forward in the greater plans."

"Understood sir," the man nodded, before taking out a package from under his station. "Anyhow, I got this new shipment of rounds from one, 'Dr. White' whoever he is. The package notes said something about new ammo for prop gun?"

My heart actually leapt at the news. The bald bastard finally came through!

"It's for the Decker gun. I've been asking for adjustments made for the alt-fire rounds."

Mentioning the weapon made the man perk up. "The Katsumata? No way, this I gotta see."

"Dereliction of duty is a heavy offense, sergeant," I reprimanded, leading to the man visibly deflating. "However, I also happened to have never assigned someone to double check my sidearm. While I've taken painstaking time to ensure that it's maintained always, I must admit that time may not always be on my side."

Light returned to the man immediately, and it gave warmth to my chest. He handed me the package, and I opened it with the claw on my right index. Pulling out the small containers, I opened one and noted the contents. Nodding to myself, I took a few of the rounds whilst leaving the rest on the counter for the moment.

Each station on the shooting range was built on top of the same conveyor belt that went from one wall to the other. Magazines, pistol clips and everything in between moved from left to right on this belt, where they were either cycled back into the belt or replaced with a freshly loaded copy.

Upon registering my presence into the system, the dispenser machinery within the walls began to fabricate the magnum rounds for the Decker Gun. It was, overall, the same .357 calibre used in the Charter Arms Bulldog, but with some adjustments done to take into account the Tib-based raw materials. Such changes also translated into the gun design itself.

At the end of the day, the Katsumata D wasn't a real gun and was a prop for sci-fi. I knew this, and so did the designers, but that of course didn't stop us from figuring out how to fit as much firepower into a single package as possible.

Hence, the D-5223(N) Series was made. Taking a page from the people of Remnant, the weapon I'm using was very overly designed. It featured the capacity to fire multiple kinds of ammunition from the top barrel whilst still having a reliable pistol to fall back on with the bottom barrel. To quicken reload, the entire cylinder can be ejected and then replaced via a 'break open' mechanism.

Taking a stance, I began firing. The system had automatically set up the targets for the effective range between twenty and thirty meters. For a time, I fell into the trance of hearing the signature blast and, as embarrassing as it was to say it, pew-pews of the weapon.

My usual training was straightforward. I'd fire three cylinders worth of bullets with my helm's targeting aid, then another three without it. If time allowed it, I'd spent even longer firing in the latter state then I did the former.

After reaching the quota of fifteen cylinders, I eagerly pulled back the bolt handle on the top. Unfortunately, or not, even with the combined knowledge of many smart people, the alt-fire for the Nodified Decker Gun could only handle one round at a time. One, single, dangerous round of my choosing.

There were three I planned to try today.

The first was the Incendiary because of course a weapon wouldn't be in the Nod arsenal if it couldn't set something on fire. Said round was coloured red to match its purpose.

I loaded the round, took a stance and fired.

CRAK!

The air seemed to break and warp in front of the barrel, taking me and the exoskeleton by surprised. Motors spun and screeched in protest to the sudden force that might've given a lesser man a broken nose. I blinked, clearing away the blur that'd seeped through my helm.

I was sure I had a new imprint on my palm.

Forcing myself out of the stupor, I focused my sight downrange and was impressed at the destruction. Given the recoil I'd just experienced, I had expected the target to sport a sizeable hole that was neatly cauterised. Instead, what remained was three chunks of carbonised gel from what used to be a ballistics dummy.

It was fascinating, I'd have to ask for the replay from EVA.

My heart hammering, I fished out the second round. This one was blue coded, and, for a moment, I figured that White had loosened up and agreed to test out Dust application for our forces. Alas, EVA corrected me via popup panel showing that it was a tracking round.

Shrugging to myself, I loaded the round and sent a mental request for a more protected target. Once more the Decker Gun warped the air, but both my body and the machine were prepared.

The damage was just as impressive. It penetrated three inches of steel and imbedded itself squarely into the guts of the dummy. I can only imagine what the earlier, more volatile round would've done. I counted, and three seconds after the gun was fired, the tracker activated.

Then, I pulled out the third and final round. This one diverged the most from all the others in that it was non-lethal. White looked at me as if I'd grown a second head asking for it.

Reloading, I then fired…. And watched with fascination.

The bullet acted as such that it would detonate within less than a meter from any object in front of it, releasing the foam material that hardens quickly when exposed to the air. Simple enough in theory, complicated in production and practice.

New panels opened in my helm, and each showed and image of the results for all three separate targets. Suffice to say, it was impressive. I'd worry for the longevity of the sidearm given the recoil of the alt-fire but that was still within expectation. The weapon in my hand had never failed me in the two or so years I'd used, but I'll have to turn it in for a new, more refined replacement soon.

Accepting my trial and practice run, I kicked the spent casings into the pits around my feet and turned heel. I was met with more than a dozen eyes who were watching me or rather were watching the weapon trials.

"Away with you lot. Congratulations for wasting your own time, as you'll now be making up for that lost time accordingly with overtime."

There was grumbling to be had, but everyone began to depart. The munitions sergeant merely shook his head and fiddled with something behind his counter.

Conveniently enough, there was a comm notification. It was time for the bi-weekly report meeting.

'How splendid,' I internally grumbled.

---

When she woke up this morning, she didn't anticipate having to take an extra tablet for her migraine.

The week had already been difficult as is coordinating the acclimation of two new divisions into the region. Said divisions also came with corresponding support units, and all of which had to be given scrutiny to adapt to changed parameters.

With ever increasing number of personnel, it was becoming harder and harder to maintain secrecy. Housing that many was troublesome as is, but when the unique powers at play on Remnant were factored in, the amount of work needed to be done grew to ridiculous proportions.

In a way, she was glad for being made 'special' when compared to the others.

She looked up from both her WMT and her data slate to cast a glance around the room. Unlike the meeting when they first arrived here two years ago, there were only half a dozen people here an now, excluding her. The massive table they were seated around was built conveniently to that of the chamfered triangle of the Brotherhood, and each of the three major groups that currently existed were seat on each of the three shortest ends.

Amaris, ever the slummock, was drinking. Colonel Ming played with a knife in his hands, occasionally taking stab motions that phased through the surface of the table, causing his projection to flicker. Then, there was the one and only man who could be considered a natural born.

Major Enlai was much more jaded now. The past two years haven't been kind on him, and she'd raised concerns to her master over the risk of the man defecting. Thankfully, he'd agreed to allow the major's seed to be secured and even had living spares ready should the major's own heir fail to fulfil they're expectations.

Coincidentally, the major looked up from his own WMT and took notice of her gaze. He gave a subtle nod which she ignored.

Aside from these three, there was the other three that were of greater notoriety. They were having a quiet conversation amongst themselves. The occasional smiles hinting at the humour they were sharing. What most stood out, was the logo on their badges for in place of the Scorpion Tail was the Black Hand.

All conversations ceased upon hearing the only door into the room open. No one entered. At least, no one that can be seen.

She didn't even bother to watch as her master dispersed the stealth field. Instead, taking note of his tardiness and internally lamenting just why he chose to be five minutes late, always.

"Morning, men," Jared spoke, adjusting comfortably into his seat. "Without further ado, let us begin this meeting."

"Point taken, and as a peer it behoves me to speak out on your incessant need to be tardy, commander," spoke up one of the Hands. "If it were anyone else other than me and my associates, they'd have taken the reigns of the campaign long before this meeting's participants were conceived."

"Thankfully, there isn't anyone who dares to do so, and the ones I know and could possibly wish to overthrow me are all conveniently present here," the helm turned to look at the trio. "Anything you three wish to share, Black Governor?"

Unphased, the man nudged with his head to the one on his right. "Not me, but Witchfinder would like a word."

"Commander," Witchfinder spoke, his tone suave. "We've reached the coast as you requested. My battalion has begun to initiate reconnaissance for a place to build a base."

The helm bobbed, nodding. "Any settlements?"

The member of the Hand shook his head. "None, sir. The immediate area was clear along with our path of travel. Aside from those Grimm creatures, our unit has encountered minimal resistance."

Hearing this, she watched the commander pressed his back into his chair. She could almost hear the muted frustration, and she could guess why.

Just well over a month ago, the first of the 'characters' had been found. It was what pushed him to requisition for two whole divisions and then Black Hand personnel.

History was finally entering its most important phase.

"You should proceed then with the establishment of the base," he spoke after a moment of silence. "Priority Pattern Alpha, and once that's done, I'll begin sending you the resources you need to expand the search radius. Whether or not you find them, we need to prepare for when the time is right to initiate the Centre Stage plan."

"Very well then, commander," nodded Witchfinder.

The helm turned back to the Black Governor.

"And what of your efforts? What do you make of the locals under our immediate influence?"

"To be truthful, there's a lot to be desired," the man spoke, completely nonchalant. "The efforts put in place by the Sisterhood under your orders has left them spoilt and effeminate. While no doubt it leaves them subdued, it also leaves much to be desired when it comes to becoming true warriors. By Kane, there is more spite to be found in a civilian from a Blue Zone when compared to any of those here."

"And the few actual combatants we've captured?"

"In comparison to those village idiots? Like comparing ants to termites," replied the Governor, sternly. "They think they're strong so long as they're Aura is active, but the moment it fails, they're scrambling for a way out. It makes them mere uncommitted rabble at worst and imbalanced fighters at bests."

The commander nodded at every word.

"But are there those that meet any standard?"

"No, commander," was the sharp reply. "Not a single one. With all due respect, I request for a settlement to be transferred directly under the control of the Hand."

Hearing those words made her wince, in no small part because of how expected it was, and also because it was being brought up now.

"I must admit, I'm surprised that you'd bring this up now. I'd have thought you would've requested such a resource much earlier."

"I'd ask whether or not you've been properly briefed and taught in our history but it seems you've arrived at a far different conclusion than anyone else in our organisation. But to answer your question, I was under the impression that you already knew that the Hand could request any and all resources of the Brotherhood at any given time in order to fulfil it's objectives."

"And that's true. As per our agreement, I would provide you with any and all that is requested when asked and with proper reasoning. Still, since it has been brought up, I will allow you to take control of any and all settlements between Fort Gaddi and Sethur and further west towards the sea. I expect a report on this within a months' time."

She had to focus on not hiding her smile upon hearing those words. Sparing a glance at the Hand, she noted how the man's posture seemed to retreat into himself, as if he'd been caught red-handed.

"Those terms are acceptable. We will let you know then."

The helm turned ever so slightly to look at the last member of the cadre that had yet to speak.

"White Wizard, I trust your efforts to negotiate with the Mistral authorities has been going well."

The youngest of the three men nodded. "They weren't keen on accepting those they presume to be 'savages' and the sting of losing Kuchinashi still seems to be particularly felt. Yet, our recent efforts in a few settlements near the capital has borne some fruit. It may take a year or two more before we gain the trust of someone particularly promising. For now, they rely on those weak and naïve Huntsmen for doing the brunt of their work."

A nod, simple and efficient. The commander then set his sights on the other end of the table, where the regular Nod commanders sat.

"How goes the work with the company, colonel?"

"Very good, sir," Amaris replied. "We've achieved basic public transport gridding and have just about every resident housed. Fontaine apologises for not being here in person, but unfortunately, he has his hands full trying to wrangle the modernisation movement. The people in that cleft are getting rather uppity with how he's been buying up the place."

"Is he sticking to his orders?"

"Oh, he is and I'm making sure of it. No artificial scarcity or problem making on my watch, yes, sir," the portly man added a mocking salute to top it off.

"And what about the local crime syndicate?"

Amaris went quiet. He continued staring at the helm of the commander but had seemed reserve.

"Amaris…." Her master pressed.

"Their leader, one Kaitoke Kirin, has approached us recently with a business proposition. He and a select few others who survived our purge of the Kuchinashi elite have been laying low within the the city's underground. They're not happy with what we did in the noble quarters, but their somewhat amiable to the fact that we removed their rivals who were part of the ruling faction in the city."

It was easy to tell how the Master felt as he leaned forward in his seat. His form was now ramrod straight in his chair, and there was a certain inhuman stillness as he seemed to ponder. She subtly checked her own WMT, using a shortcut to appraise his actions, and she found that he was checking with EVA.

"Very well then, proceed," he suddenly spoke once more.

".. Pardon?" blinked Amaris. "I'd have thought you'd be more critical of this?"

"The fact that they're still here and haven't attempted to hightail it out speaks for itself. I'll leave it to Fontaine to handle them as they see fit," the helm then tilted. "Be sure to treat them nicely. It's not everyday that a finely made dagger gets dropped on your doorstep."

…. Ah, she sees how it is.

A final gesture meant that Amaris' report was done. That left only one man left to query.

"Colonel Ming," the commander spoke. "Where did this recent enclave of locals come from? It hasn't been less than two weeks since the last one."

"With all respects, commander," the Asian man began. "You're putting perhaps too much credit for the subpar. It's no different than scraping dry paint off the walls at this point."

"Dry paint doesn't come back unless someone paint it there when you weren't looking, colonel."

The commander then turned back to where the Black Hands were seated.

"Colonel Ming will be put under your command, Governor. You'll see to it that any and all new locals found are to be captured and brought into the Black Hand fold. I want more recruits for the plan to downturn Mistral. Any 'failed' aspirants are none of your concern."

The Black Hand associate nodded; his features seemingly more placated than before followed by a 'very good sir'. On the other hand, she noted the subtle rage from Colonel Ming, much to the displeasure of Major Enlai seating next to them.

"Finally, Sub-commander, give me a status on our development branch."

"Commander," she snapped to attention, running on autopilot. "New manpower from the two recent divisions has been put to work in expanding our subterranean networks. We've achieved basic linkage with all forts and are expanding the network to a majority of the smaller posts. In addition, the Mistral cell reports they've managed to establish small residences in some of the walled settlements closer to the city."

"And the rail network?"

"Engineering is finalising. They're only concern is in regard to redundancies. It's too simple in their eyes, and they worry there'll be complications with it."

"Issues like that are acceptable. We need to sell the idea of a fledging nation state afterall."

"Permission to speak, sir?"

All eyes trained to Major Enlai who had spoken, his hand raised to accentuate his request.

"Accepted."

"I must protest to you approach with this rail network. I understand that secrecy plays a big role in preventing our enemies from reacting to us, but if and when we do go public and the rail is built, the number of entities that would wish to exploit will be a risk in and of itself."

"Thank you for speaking the obvious, major," replied Black Governor, sounding both nonchalant and irate. "Do you have anymore wisdom to give from the bottom end?"

"I've worked steadfast with the Brotherhood for the past two years without question," continued Enlai, ignoring the Black Hand. "I don't doubt the Brotherhood's strengths, but that same strength is something I've seen blind it to the kind of threats possible in this world."

"Your point, princeling," sniped Ming.

"My point, colonel is that we should just build the network to its full spec. No false openings of any kind. We can predict where the enemy will strike all we want, but there is no way we can predict what they'd do with the information we give them. It's the equivalent of leaving a hole in the wall for a Grimm horde. You know those things will flood through, but you just won't know what passes through until it does."

A roar was let out of the leader of Zulu Company; it waslaughter. He swerved in his chair to face the native of Mistral.

"Grimm, really now? We're currently far above those filthy comedy of monsters, and you're scared they'd somehow wizen up? On second thought, don't answer, I have my measure when it comes to your kind and how they've handled threats thus far. Truly, sub-PAR! That's what you lot are, utte-"

Tzayet. "Enough."

She had to fight hard to resist the pressure that suddenly took hold. The hand holding the data slate fought twice as hard to not crack the surface. Pressure built into more and more into her head, and she barely heard the sounds of footsteps as the commander walked behind her seat.

From the corner of her eye, she could just barely make out everything else that was happening.

With the exception of Major Enlai, everyone else was locked in place, they're eyes blackened. The major himself looked at the scene with no small amount of fear and perplexity. His attention, however, soon turned to the figure who stood before him.

Her superior stood before the native, one hand resting on the top of Colonel Ming's seat. His steel claws gently extended, passing through the projection of the man.

…..

And then she remembered nothing.

She blinked and looked around the room. Her mind feeling like it had a hole torn through it. Looking around, she noted how the other occupants were also trying to hide their confusions to varying degrees, sans the major who looked pale.

"The meeting is adjourned. I expect the usual reports, while I make the rounds. Thank you for your time, gentlemen."

Each and every projection began to dissipate. The faces of each barely had time to register as the room shifted. From nine people, it became two.

Composing herself, she barely caught the sight of her master standing and looking her way.

"Rain, follow," was the straightforward command.

Together, they left through the one door in the room. Their destination being the elevator.

"I apologise for using the Command Line, but I needed that man's opinion to stay uncoloured," he replied.

She didn't reply immediately, her mind still struggling to keep pace even as she shook her head to clear the remaining haze.

"…. It's… fine, but what about the others?"

"I've taken care of that."

Their conversation had a brief pause as they entered the elevator. Without pressing any of the panels, it began to descend.

"I'll be making a tour of Kuchinashi today. In the meantime, I want you to have the Turok unit track down Ming's men and find out more about those enclaves."

She turned to look at the helm. "You expecting more trouble?"

"Ming is going to retaliate like a dog that's been put on a leash for the first time. Me putting him on a Black Hand's deck is bound to have repercussions. Repercussions that I have no doubt will come to bite back in the ass."

"And if they find something worth intervening. What are they expected to do?"

"Kill Zulu if they have to. However, elimination of the point of interest is permitted as well."

The doors to the lift opened, and her leader stepped out. The next instant he was gone.

"See you later, Rain."

She breathed, feeling the loss of companionship.

"As you, commander."

---

I mulled as I awaited the duplicate to be fabricated on site.

Kill Zulu, really? Afterall the things I'd already let them get away with up to this point?

No, it was more flabbergasting that I even still feel anything about what my underlings did at this point.

Still, this world was one taglined with 'bloody evolution'. When -and not if- the people adapt to our brand violence, it will mean a whole lot of problems are bound to emerge. None of if I could foresee, and it unnerved me just how exciting that felt like.

There was a tug in my mind. It would seem the body was ready.

I blinked. One, two, three.

And their eyes opened to show a different room and place.

---

Kuchinashi had changed much since the Brotherhood took over.

In the original timeline, it would've been a den of debauchery and crime. Not much was known about what led it to becoming a haven for the lawless, but our own efforts to wrestle control had uncovered more than enough to illuminate just what would've happened without our intervention.

A lot of work had to be done primarily to clean up our purge of the noble's quarters located on the highest area of the city. It was decided we would work downwards from there, slowly but surely letting metamorphosis transform the city from one society to another.

The result was apparent as I walked outside the grounds of the governor's residence.

Trams ferried people place to place. Streets filled with people walking about with their own business. The notion of private transport was removed, save those for the government and militia.

Buildings more akin to bunkers dominated the landscape. Their forms hidden under superficial pagoda roofs. In the long days I've been with Nod, I've come to know that the line between a defensive fort and a civilian-purposed building was thin.

Men armed with rifles patrolled the streets, either in pairs or teams of up to four. They're robes were worn tightly with military webbing overlapping them.

Vigiles Urbani, watchmen of the city. Trained and loyal, and watched over by an actual Nod Militant superior. Currently, there was one true Nod Militant for every five watchmen. In the future, that number would be standardised to a one-to-four ratio for all settlements.

I watched through the monitors as children raced down a street. One of them tumbled partway, coincidentally in front of one such watchmen. Part of me observed with some degree of wholesome as the man pulled the kick back to his feet, giving the kid a onceover for injuries. When it seemed nothing was out of place, the man sent the kid running to his awaiting friends with a pat on the back.

Other such occurrences happened throughout the wide space of the town square. People went about their day to day lives in peace, despite the obvious reconstruction efforts underway. I wondered what my own superior would have to say about that.

The thought of him made me freeze up.

'Enough of this,' I snapped out of my idle, and began walking in the direction that would bring me to the Upper Terraces.

---

Much of Kuchinashi's rebuild had to happen first where the public couldn't see.

It was one thing to introduce more modernised city planning and technological conveniences. It was another to build it where the foundations to sustain such things didn't exist. It took the better part of the past two years to finish the subterranean work, and the remaining time up to the Schnees arrival two months back was spent on readjustments.

The upper terraces that once house the bluebloods were all now demolished, and their foundations buried under cement and steel frames, including the bodies. It was decided we'd use the space for our own needs, mainly for storage and public shelters, but also as a natural barrier for the underground base and its personnel to exit to and from.

Kuchinashi's people won't be long for this place, anyhow. Hence, it was in part pointless to exercise too much in terms of public safety. Not to mention, it'd be easier to funnel them out than in.

My journey here wasn't anything special. I just wanted to see for myself how well the warehouses were doing. We didn't plan on putting anything of value or possibly damning within the buildings, but it didn't hurt to have the assets for a possible attack conveniently available, should the need arise. Otherwise, anything larger than a buggy or technical was to deployed from the hidden base under the settlement, which in turn had its own set of entrances to go in and out.

After an hour or so of checking manifests and snooping around, I became satisfied and went ahead to take the hidden lift that would lead me underground.

It was time to pay a visit to the two individuals I came here for.

---

As if a cord had been snapped, the former scion of Mistral began to stammer.

"Elaborate directly, major."

"Your need to be hands off on everything means others are free to meddle as they please, especially your enemies! Sooner or later, even a thousand smaller hands can form a larger fist against you, and no amount of force will be enough. A lone arrow means nothing to an Aura shielded warrior but try a hundred and an eye would flinch. I'm only advocating for full caution from whatever threats may lurk out there!"

His heart hammered in his chest, bladder singing its torturous song as he looked up at the helm with six eyes. He didn't know where to look, for each pair was spaced in such a way to make it impossible.

"And what makes you think that I want to listen to you?"

Clawed and clawed he did the walls of his mind to come up with an answer, but he ended up blurting the only thing that came to mind.

"You don't! But neither will you have that same choice with anyone else!"

Zhou Enlai snapped himself out of the funk, his vision returning back to the present as he beheld the park that was directly in front of his workplace.

Some part of him remained unnerved every time he had to entertain a meeting with the Circle. Some part of him felt he didn't belong there, with men of bloodlust and pure apathy towards anything not in their interest and agenda. However, the worst was those dark men, fittingly called Black Hand if he remembered.

They're appearance was new, but their gaze spoke enough on how they thought of everyone, including their leader. It was the familiar look of superiority and scorn for their would-be contemporaries. Not even Amaris seemed to be as carefree when they're around.

"Mark my words, boy. Don't fuck or get fucked by the Black Hand! There's nothing worse than one of those devils running around!"

He was inclined to agree, seeing as how they addressed even a person like the Commander as if they were equal or superior.

Turning around, he opted to sit down and begin his day. There was an awful lot of work to be done with the reconstruction now underway. It actually relieved him seeing the work done to improve the common folk, despite his reservations with some of the plans he was given.

It was obvious that Kuchinashi held interest only in that it served as yet another hideout for one of the Brotherhood's bases. It surprised even him that Amaris actually gave him clearance to be in the know-how. Still, it worked to his benefit and helped him organise and direct the populace where it needed to be.

He sipped from a thermos, the tea within soothing his throat. Absentmindedly, he noted the Commander sitting on one of the two-

CLANG!

All pretence of comfort and focus was derailed as he beheld the dark figure seated.

"…. I apologize. I did knock make a point to decloak before entering."

At a loss for words, he could only opt to seat himself and straighten his posture.

"Commander, pleasure to have you here today. You're making the rounds as usual I see?"

"It's been at least two months since the last, yes. However, I'm here to continue our little talk from the meeting."

At the mention of it, Zhou Enlai's heart sank into the pits. He stared at the helm, the smooth surface that was the front reflected nothing. This time, he wasn't visually assaulted by three pairs of bright red optics, but there was little comfort in that.

Casually, the…. Man adjusted himself in his seat, leaning back and one leg resting on the other's knee. The perfect image of someone owning another.

"Let's begin. You say that the current arrangements for the Rail Network aren't enough. Why is that? And how do you wish to improve it?"

His mind raced to recognised the query, and bring about an actual solution.

"I understand that I and many others who've been inducted certainly lack the more extensive experience like some of our seniors have. However, I've also seen that whatever allowed you to gleam such marvels has left you ignorant to the ways of the wider world."

"How do you think this can be exploited?"

"I don't know how, I just only know that it can be done. With the right individual, no less. Forgive me for asking, but you remember what was written in the reports regarding the Huntsmen sent to Kuchinashi?"

The head swerved, as if contemplating.

"All three survived, initially. One was able to run towards aid. An entire village eliminated to cover up."

Pain assaulted Zhou Enlai's mind. The governor willed himself to not show any outward reaction.

"Just one. Just. One. Man. Who happened to have the right semblance managed to result an entire village being involved and lead to its inevitable demise."

"… And you think this could be repeated in a grander scale?"

"Yes, and I have possible proof."

"Possible, isn't proof," interjected the Commander.

In response, he stared the man dead in the eye, or as close as he can. At the same time, he fished into his own uniform and pulled out a yellow envelope.

The head tilted, sideways and not forward.

"A list of documented reports from personnel all across the region. There's been reports of what seems like battles everywhere. The problem is that no one has bothered to check or even report just what's going on."

Tired of holding it, he placed the envelope gently on his desk.

"Make of what you will or call me a fool. However, I won't standby any longer as these irregularities keep occurring. The greater the scope the more it starts to feel like a comedy with how bad our security is."

HAHAHA!

Hacks and sputters filled the air and he did a double take as he observed the calm, still demeanour seated before him. Nothing, there was no movement but the laughter was obviously coming from there.

"I apologize," the tone neutral once more. My humours have not been the same for a long time. Your concern is noted and I'll forward you the necessary arrangements."

Making to stand once more, the figure made to move their hands behind them. A posture, he rightly inferred. Turning heel, the commander began to make their way out but not before turning to look back at him one last time.

"Major, I must ask myself. Do you have any idea yourself just what those unknown battles are?"

Silence was the first thing that came to Zhou Enlai's mind. He had an idea as to what was cause the gunfire but dared not show it. Afterall, what he didn't say was that the reports was that while random, they had a pattern of being concentrated in a single area before switching to elsewhere. As if whoever was behind them was constantly on the move.

He didn't doubt the security measures taken by the Brotherhood, considering he played a big hand in setting up the overwatch forts to begin with. That, and no one else in Mistral used automatic weapons on the level of what Nod did. Hence, this was the handiwork of a select few individuals and ones he'd rather not name.

"No. No one, sir."

A nod. "You and Colonel Amaris will receive new additions to your current orders by the end of the week. Good day."

The figure shimmered in the air and then vanished.

Governor Zhou Enlai waited and waited. Until he could no longer hold his breath and collapsed back into his seat.

Never was it easy to deal with that… thing. Yet, for all his trepidation, he'd somehow survived this long by leaning towards the commander than anyone else, save Amaris.

He didn't know how long he was like that, but eventually his secretary came in, her features taking on a perplexed look.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

Snapping out of his funk, he made an effort to appear busy.

"Just thinking, bring me those files in your hand. I'll have them done by the end of the day."

He heard the click of heels, which honestly sounded much more relieving than it should've been. Her shadow crossed onto the surface of his table, and there was the sound of paper being deposited.

"He was here, wasn't he?"

This time he looked up, bewildered that she'd known. Then he remembered, the thermos.

Sure enough, the floor was stained a certain tint of yellow and chastised himself for not recovering sooner.

---

The good govenor was right.

The Rail Network was as its name suggested, but what made it special was that it was meant to be an act of generosity for the locals, mostly. The lines of this network would link Kuchinashi with the ten or so settlements we've chosen to let persist and prosper.

Ten or so villages, out of a hundred. The other ninety of which simply no longer existed.

New immigrants were pulled in from the smaller, more isolated settlements, many of which were people fully indoctrinated in our ways. In another generation or two, they would have turned the entire settlement into likeminded loyalists. All awaiting the day of Genesis.

Plans within plans as they said.

Still, the issue with the security was something to worry about. Neither Internal Security, nor my own personal Turok unit had yet encountered anything that would be considered a direct action by Ozma and Salem. Were we that lucky in taking a whole settlement? The thought plagued every fibre of my being.

The benefactor's visit certainly didn't help.

---

The boots made a sizeable splash as they landed on the floor of the sewers.

I was glad to not be here in person, I didn't want to have to explain the smell on me before I could get my getup replaced.

My reason for being here was to search for a particular group. One I knew to exist here, and covering up for the shadier things in Nod.

The band of young, filthily dressed men I found was a good start. They were idling about on one side of the sewer tunnels, a stairway led up to what I assumed was some forgotten room for the workers.

Breaking cloak, I signalled my presence with a claw scraping the wall. It immediately got their attention.

"W-Whose there! What do you want!"

Water churned and mites squeaked. I took my time to answer.

"Peace, brothers. I came here to meet with the Confessor. Is he around?"

"We don't know nothing about this Confessor, whoever it is! So, beat it and scram!"

They're postures spoke of their fear. Betraying their words. It was all too enticing to jump them.

I stepped forward and, unsurprisingly, had no less than three handguns pointed back at me.

"What'cha coming closer for, huh?"

The man who asked had his answer when the stealth field reengaged. Their look of confusion and surprised stirred something in me. It grew more erratic as one of their own was lifted by the neck and another earned a power boot to the rear that sent them flying.

I wasn't looking for blood. Just as soon as I'd lifted, I threw the man I'd been holding across to his fellow.

Breaking the stealth field, I took stock of my little situation.

No ranged threats left, but half a dozen close combatants remained. Simple enough.

They were armed with lead pipes or shivs. The first man to close in came with an overhead swing. I ducked low and placed an elbow strike into his gut. Using the momentum, I crossed my right leg over his left pivoted around him so that I held him against the others.

Two men couldn't slow down fast enough from their charge, and so I launched my impromptu hostage with another kick. As the three tumbled, I was already grabbing a new target. One which I broke his nose with the flat surface of the helmet.

One man stood his ground. Either brave or scared out of his wits. A simple glance at a windowed tab told me I had enough time before the threesome pile on the ground recovered.

So, imagine my surprise when this man charged into the proxy. My eyes barely registering the change in hue he had.

Aura.

The body had slammed right into the corner where the walls turned a sharp ninety degrees inwards. Bio monitors sang their warning cries, but otherwise I sensed I still had control, and countered the foe.

Slow is the blade that penetrates the shield.

My attacked had slammed his shiv into this body's torso at full tilt, using the brief disorientation to their advantage. I responded in kind by clamping both my hands on his shoulders, and much to his surprise, no doubt, began sinking the claws into and past his shoulder blades.

He stabbed and stabbed but grew increasingly desperate when he realised that there was no effect to be had. It didn't take long before he grew frantic enough that I capitalised. Lifting the proxy and the man up. As the arms reached full length, I pulled both hands back.

"AAAARRRGH!"

Sharp edged blades, split the bones, muscle and tendons of both my opponent's arms. He collapsed, and I sliced through his sternum. Three blades out of five cutting a line vertically from his collarbone to the bottom edge.

I poised the other hand, readying for a finishing blow that wasn't meant to be. For the first three that had tried to attack me had recovered and were trying to make a comeback.

"HOLD IT! ENOUGH!"

The shout reverberated the tunnel. All stood as stiff as statues, each readying themselves for a continuation of the fight. With a move more akin to machine than man, I rotated the head ever so slightly so that I could see the source of the voice.

Sure enough, I recognised one of our own.

"Confessor Remus. I apologise for the unsightly scene. I'd only wanted to speak with you."

"Well, I may consider that apology accepted if you let go of the dying man in your arms!"

The head didn't move even slightly. I merely opened a panel for one of the cameras, and sure enough, the pressure I'd been applying on the man's injured sternum was starting to become grievous. Aura or not, a man can't survive with his ribcage split like I'd done. With care, bare minimum at least, I released my hold and stepped back. Conveniently toward the man garbed in dark cloth.

I watched with mild disdain as the man suffered. No doubt his lungs were inflating past what they supposed to now that there were no bones to hold them in place. His friends crowded around him, and soon the throng began to lift and carry him into the entranceway they'd been guarding. Both the Confessor and I simply watching as they scampered off, trailing curses all the way.

Eventually, at his behest, I followed the Confessor into the entranceway myself. Following him, we navigated until the walls began shifting and bled into a familiar crimson. Dark webbing marked the walls, a familiar surface. Indeed, we'd entered a hidden Shrine.

More and more of the destitute were here. These were carefully attended to by the shrine attendants. Prelates and the lesser Votaries, many of which were helping the locals engage in rituals or other forms of community service. For all the ominousness, there was a degree of virtue here.

Eventually, we entered what was obviously an office of sorts. My guide sat himself behind his desk.

With his followers out of the way, the Confessor turned to me, undoubtedly irritated.

"I'd welcome you with open arms, Commander. However, it seems you've already made your pleasantries known your own way. So, what is it? Got something you need from me?"

"Yes, and then some," I replied succinctly. "Those men out there, they're hardly being trained. Why is that?"

"Trained? Sir, my duty is to simply consolidate the lowlifes and keep them from being a loose card. Don't we already have a sect upstairs handling local militant recruitment?"

"…. Fascinating. So, would it be wrong to say that these people have next to no use to us then?"

A snort. "Give them a gun, and they'd more than likely turn it into a baseball bat. I'd reckon some might even give themselves Darwin Awards by looking down the barrel."

I hummed, processing the thought.

"I was…. am, intrigued in what say regarding this. Word from above, the locals are rather lacklustre in what we can fashion out of them."

Dimly lit as the tunnels were, it did little to mask the man's eye rolling.

"Patience is not a strong virtue of the Brotherhood, at least not amongst our warrior-kin," the confessor growled-hissed. "Like the scorpion we take after, some can lie in wait for days or weeks without food, otherwise live for the fight. By Kane, and really, it's by him, do the right men answer the right calling."

"Then, I ask of thee, Brother-Confessor, what would Kane do if he were here."

The look I got was complicated. Unsurprising, given the nature of the question.

I was not expecting the shrug.

"Not in my place, sir."

"Pardon," my sarcasm leaked.

"You heard me. It's not in my place. The thing about a living Messiah, is that you honestly can't tell what's set in stone and what's not. Today, we lay in hiding and then tomorrow, we're charging headfirst at his enemies. You won't find me complaining about the former."

"Enlighten me then, what does it take to bring these people to battle standard?"

"The honest answer? Short of us cramming a computer in their brains. Many of these folk have long since destroyed their own cognitive thinking. Drugs won't do much good, and I wouldn't trust them with a suicide vest that's remotely detonated."

"….. Cramming a computer… That's something."

Another snort. "That's genius. Tell me more about it if you do."

I didn't let an outward respond show through the body, opting to change the topic.

"Reports have streamed in of a crime syndicate still present in this city."

The Confessor raised an eyebrow. "That one, yes, is something of definite note. We've been trying to establish contact with them for some time. We've managed to figure where they're hiding out in these tunnels, but they're the kind that's paranoid."

"Breakout attempts?"

"None so far," the man shook his head. "Although, just between us, I think they might've an eye on that rail network that's being built."

I mulled over this information. The more thought I put into it, the more I began to feel something bubbling within me.

'What might happen if I took matters into my own hands?'

It was so innocent, yet so intrusive. I couldn't help myself.

"Hand me every info you have on this group."

The clergyman did as asked, and, in the first few moments, a name did indeed register to me.

Wave.

There was something about that name that simply clicked. I couldn't recall all the details. Only that it was important. Expressing my appreciation to the Confessor, I stood up and made to leave, but not before telling him that he'd best be prepared to receive a message within the hour.

There was work to be done.

"You really going after them?"

"Yes. Any objections?"

The Confessor didn't answer. I turned to him, and noted a frown, and nothing else.

"It is in our ways to welcome and all who seek the ways of Kane. However, some think themselves enlightened by their own intellect. Euphoric even, over things well beyond their control."

"Commentaries of Confessor Tohan Klayn," I recalled the original source.

"Good, you know our handbook."

"And where are you getting it at with this?"

"Just figured you could use a reminder that we are in the business of using every means we get to advance our goals."

"….. I'll keep that in mind…"

---

"EVA, priority line. Mistress."

"Confirmed. Processing. Standby."

"….. Master? What is it?"

"I've gotten a lead on something. Do we have forces available?"

"Wait one."

"…."

"I can get you three squads at your position. Is this a black or white book?"

"Black. We'll disseminate the info once I've gotten a clear idea what it is we're looking at."

"Should I be expecting damage control?"

"Maids should do fine. I'm uploading deployment coordinates. Tell the men to prepare for septic."

"Confirmed. Good hunting, commander."

---

Delta-4 adjusted the dials on his MVG. He swallowed dryly, practiced steps kept the soles of his boots from eliciting even the faintest sounds.

Ahead of him, there were two men in the typical slums getup. Behind them, was a ladder leading to a manhole above. Nondescript, save for the apparent weapons that lay to the side of the barrels they sat on.

Two years in this world, and he still couldn't wrap it around his head that people still used swords of all things. He'd seen braindead shiners who'd have more sense to use their enhanced strength to throw stuff.

"Delta-Lead, all Deltas, sitrep."

Delta-4 listened intently, and replied into the comm the moment it was his turn. Eventually, the rest of the six man group finished reporting in.

"Confirmed. Standby, we're proceeding with mission. Three, Two, One. Mark."

An audible, but low roar shook the roof of the tunnels, disturbing loose sediment and concrete. Training kept his form still amidst the disturbance. However, the same couldn't be said for the two wannabe guards.

Alarmed, they traced the tremors back to the world above. They're heads looking up at the supposed manhole they were meant to cover.

"Drop them."

Muted thumps echoed across the walls. One man dropped dead, but the other was apparently shielded, they're Aura tanking the blows. Delta-4 didn't let up, instead pressing down and sending three burst rounds repeatedly into the target's head in tight, controlled bursts.

Protected or not, momentum did its thing, and the man was rocked until his head was slammed twice into the wall. Unfortunately, his weapon clicked, but any worry receded as another dark figure came up and finished the job. A hollow point round going straight through the skull at point blank.

"Good night," the familiar voice of Delta-3 sounded.

Delta-4 closed the distance, jumping when he needed to and avoiding the sludge of filth that was the sewage. He pinged, signalling his presence, which earned a laidback side glance from his partner. Another ping sounded, and Delta-Lead joined them.

"Alpha and Charlie are in a tight spot. We're gotta make this close if we don't want to get an earful from them."

"Copy."

The three men began to proceed up the ladder with Delta-Three in the lead. There was a brief pause as Three checked using a camera for threats. An all clear was given through hand sign with the addition to make it quick.

Being the last to exit, Delta-4 curses his luck in having to put the manhole back in place, nearly crushing his fingers under the iron plate in the process. Once done, he took note on his surroundings, noting that they weren't exactly underground but neither were they on the surface.

The three of them were in a basin of sorts. It was obvious the place hadn't seen use in ages from the smell and just plain feel.

In their briefing, the blueprints called this place a port of sorts. Through his goggles, he noted things such as the gantry above them, along with what looked like walkways amongst other things that certainly looked like they could help in servicing a ship.

However, the idea of a ship being serviced at a place thousands of meters above seawater ruined the image somewhat. Sci-Fi shenanigans be damned.

Cutting his musings short, he moved to where his squadmates were awaiting him. A flight of stairs that led the way up. Kneeling as he reached the base, Delta-Lead took his attention as he began directing his next orders through handwaves.

"You take point. Meter gap. Proceed with haste," was the message.

Nodding, Delta-4 took a moment to adjust his Multi-Vision Goggles. Turning the dial allowed him to switch from Night-Vision to Low Light Visual. A mode far more suited for the likelihood that they'll be going from dark to light and dark again. The other thing he also did was switch to his secondary weapon, a Mossberg 590S(N).

Leave it to Nod to figure how to make an in-built suppressor for a shotgun.

They started up the steps, Delta-3 throwing a drone up into the air to act as they're early warning. For their part of the operation, they were expected to cut off the enemies escape route. That also meant to eliminate any and all personnel they found on that route.

By the time they were done with the first bay, Delta-3 had counted perhaps a dozen or so sentries downed. These people were sloppy for what was supposed to be survivors. All they're hopes were banked on the reconstruction efforts above simply rolling over the old sewage system. Smart, to some, but where they're fault really lay was that they didn't off those who knew about the tunnels outside their own circle.

It took upwards of fifteen minutes before Delta-Lead was satisfied with their sweep and elimination. Unfortunately, there was the problem of there being no ships. That meant they'd have to search the adjacent bay in this place.

The same one that the other half of Delta was meant to tackle.

A minor feeling of dread settled in Delta-4. Casualties weren't a concern of his, but the fact that there wasn't a more erratic response from the Opfor was telling. Indeed, even a cheap IED was less obvious than the trap they were walking into.

Still, pulling out was not an option. Kane's teachings specifically called for not backing down, doing so risked more for their brothers' than it did for them.

The mission must continue.

A quick meet was held to confirm whether or not they were going through their next act. After one last call to Delta-Two whom failed to respond, the decision became unanimous.

Go loud.

Preparations were made quick, for the fighting above was still ongoing. The drone was recalled and given necessary alterations. A second drone was also deployed, but with a different cargo. Weapons were reloaded, and all three men assembled at the door to the next bay.

Delta-4 was in the lead once more, and just as he was about to open it, said door opened by itself.

The man on the other end held an old fashion lantern in his hand. His mistake was sticking his head first through the crack. For his trouble, he earned a point-blank spread to the head. The man's killer didn't wait, instead kicking the door and almost throwing himself to the side as Delta-3 threw both his drones in, one after the other.

Machine One was reoutfitted with a sonic emitter. A little lesson taken from GDI but applied more nuanced. The second drone, meanwhile, 'popped' and took flight, aiming for a safe distance from the first.

Almost as suddenly as the door had been swung open, Delta-4 rushed ahead and closed it. Not a second after, a loud… very loud high-pitched screaming sounded. The operative was glad for the special headphones, for he was sure he'd be bleeding from the ears even with a steel door protecting him.

SCREEE!

He counted the time, partly expecting the drone to get blown away or otherwise. When the full allotted time passed, he heard the familiar sound of the screamer dying down which prompted for him to swing the door open once more.

Delta-Lead was behind him, if the pat on the shoulder was any indicator. He only acknowledged it mentally as he began sweeping for targets. Sure enough, more than half a dozen combatants lay prone on the other end. A kick on one as he crossed the space on the other end made it known that they were dead. Quickly, he passed the bodies and took position near the legs of a gantry.

Switching to his customised AK-74(N), he let loose a series of bursts downrange. Somewhere nearby, Delta-Lead was doing the same.

The pair shot at anything and everything they saw through their scopes. Some figures fell, but others got up and either sought cover or charged at them. Eventually, it got to the point that they had to give ground bit by bit.

Pain pierced his chest.

"Hit!" he screamed. Clenching his teeth to suppress the pain.

"Get the hell up, Four!"

In loud, dry gasps, he forced himself to comply to the voice. He slammed a hand on his chest. The plate wasn't breach it seems.

A battle cry sounded almost right above him. He looked up to see a man with a machete mid-swing, only to be rebutted by an invisible one-two punch.

Delta-4 didn't bother seeing just who it was that saved him. He grabbed the shotgun on his form and slam fired. In two hits, the man was down, and an additional point blank through the mouth did him in.

"Get down, Delta!" screamed Three.

Four didn't question, he threw himself once more onto the ground. Immediately, heat and force swept over him, and bits of hot shards clawed his BDU.

He counted. One. Two. Three. Only then did he raise his head.

What greeted him at first was darkness. He tried adjusting his MVG, but realise the thing was busted. Taking them off, he regarded the state of the dock.

Delta-Three had done something nasty, alright. The fires were so bright, it illuminated just about the whole space of the docks. One of the ships had detonated, or was it a victim just as much? He couldn't tell.

Sensing movement to his left, he turned heel and took aim, almost pulling the trigger on Delta-Three. In response, the man raised his own weapon.

"Stinger."

"Venom."

Both men lowered their weapons.

"Where's Lead?" he asked the drone operator.

"Last I saw he was getting cornered right…. Over… there," Delta-3trailed off whilst looking at something behind Four.

Turning around, Delta-4 was met with a rather pathetic sight.

A woman. Height around five feet two and wearing some sort of Chinese dress. Her form was rather haggard, and what he assumed used to be a stylised hair was now in a mess.

With one hand, she held Delta-Lead by the collar, and the other, an impressive looking sabre. Said man was bleeding from the head, and less than a dozen other places.

"YOU!" she screeched. "I don't know, or care, just who you people are! But if you want to see your friend live, then drop your weapons!"

Delta-4 and 3 looked at each other, then to their superior being held hostage. The man was fully conscious, albeit in pain, and if one followed his eye closely, they'd notice something being held down in his right hand.

One glance back up at Delta-Lead's eyes, and the two slowly placed their weapons on the floor of the docks.

More combatants came crawling out of the woodwork. They quickly grabbed their weapons and force them to kneel.

One of the men approached the woman.

"Mistress, we still have the Hao Fang. She's beaten up, but the crews have kept her from catching fire."

"Good, get us ready to leave."

Her attention then returned to the men of Delta.

"Just who are you people? You're not like anything we've seen. Your dresses, your weapons…. Those fliers. Tell me now, and I might let you live a bit more."

Delta-4 looked to his squadmate. The only thing visible were his eyes from beneath the balaclava. Eyes that blinked in rapid, but familiar patterns.

'One. Three. Three. Zero.'

They then turned to look back at the woman.

"I don't speak in freak, bitch."

That was all Delta-3 could spit out before his head was lopped off.

Silver, sharp and bloodied, was now pointed at Four.

"Any wise words from you?"

He gave it a good minute to think about what he wanted to say. His mind wondered to Kane, and what he would've said -or thought of- saying whenever the occasion of his setback occurred.

Eventually, he settled on something he'd heard from the grapevine.

"Who are we, you ask?" he asked with a voice so haggard.

"Yes," the woman hissed.

"…. We, are the Aristocrats."

He never did find out if he got the punchline right.

---

Every fibre of his being shuddered in embarrassment, but also involuntarily from the force of Delta-Lead's explosive vest going off.

From his hidden corner of the hangar, Delta-Two and his half of the squad watched the brief, but devastating action of Don an elevated platform connected to a walkway around the hangars, Delta-Lead and his group. Presumably, they'd acted under the assumption that the other group had been compromised.

Which was far from correct.

They're own infiltration route was botched due to something blocking the manhole. Short of going loud without intel, their group unanimously decided to find a different way in.

It so happened they exited the vents at the same time the fireworks went off.

As he observed the survivors pull themselves together, Delta-Two began giving new orders. His left hand raised; he told the men to pick targets using hand signs.

Flicking his goggles up, Delta-Two took initiative and fired. The M4A1 SOPMOD wriggled in his hands. It was comforting.

In the corner of his periphery, he barely noticed as one of his men dashed up front. Taking advantage of his leader's aggroing, the man tackled a swordsman to the ground, wrestled control and ended the blade wielding warrior's life with a knife to the neck. The man immediately straightened up, knee on the neck of his dying foe, and quickly pulled up the MP5 on his chest to fire on some semi-unseen foe.

More and more hostiles were appearing around them now. Death shall welcome them soon.

Or at least it would've had it not been for a loud bang. Too loud, in fact, as even with headphones, he could've sworn his ears were close to bleeding.

The same couldn't be said for the bad guys. Most were on their knees and a few more were limp.

"Delta, sitrep," a familiar voice permeated the comm.

Delta-Two was quick to answer. "Half strength. We're engaging from a corner on the far side of the bay. Delta-Lead is down."

"Acknowledged. Masks up, we're dropping Silly Bombs on them."

Eyes widened behind his goggles at the mention of the hallucinogenic grenades. Named as such as by the child who made it, the effects of said weapon were feared on both sides of the Old World.

"MASKS! MASKS! MASKS!"

Delta-Two didn't care if the other two would bitch of their ears ringing. Anything was better than going feral. He had the breathing apparatus on just as the world began to take on a different hue.

BANG!

He turned to the sound, just in time to see Delta-Five's body slump on the ground. His helm was off, and his sidearm lay next to him. He'd have to ask him later what happened, but now wasn't the time.

HAWWOOOOO!

He turned around just in time to see the first victims of the gas begin to act out. The most common things known of the Black Hand hallucinogen was that it acted differently for different people, but the most common thing was that it increased aggression to irrational levels.

Green hue filled his vision, but he pressed on and found Delta-Six not far. Pinging the man to his presence, he dragged the man by the shoulder to scurry away in a remote place away from the starting carnage.

Along the way, they encountered some of the more 'muted' victims. Some were crying, others were laughing and a few even behaved like curious children and approached them, only to earn a hollow point through the head for their troubles.

It was as they found a line of barrels to hide behind did the commander call on them again.

"Delta, sitrep."

"We're down to just two men, sir. We're hold up behind cover and waiting for the gas to dissipate."

"It's that you behind the barrels?"

The response took him aback, and Delta-Two tried to search for where his superior might've been.

"Look up."

He did as told and sure enough, something was hanging up there on the cement roof. Another surprise awaited him as the dark figure dropped and landed right next to him, the vapour in the air bended around the vicinity of his fall.

"I see you and your men made quite the impression, corporal."

Delta-Six, beat him in responding. "With respect sir, most of what you see is Delta-Lead's doing. We're just here for the after-action."

"Are both you still combat effective?"

The two men took quick stock of their gear and nodded.

"Good, with me, we're going to introduce ourselves to the boss."

---

Delta-Six didn't exactly know what to expect from this.

He was a warrior, born and trained. His parents were blessed to be of a lineage that went back to ancient times. They're memories the same as they're forebearers.

Each and every commander of Nod is expected to be a voice of their Messiah. Unity was the calling of Humanity, and more importantly that of the Brotherhood. Without Unity, there can be no future, thus it was important that all shared the one true vision in time.

However, unity wasn't as easy to achieve in practice. No, it often called for a lot of dubious agreements, and false alliances. Men are capable of many things, and evil is one of them. Only the most cunning thrive. The games played made his head hurt, and thus he wisely withdrew his thoughts deep into the depths of his mind.

Adrenaline still cycled in his veins. He imagined tapping into it, like a driver throttling the gear in neutral. It kept his senses sharp in the twenty-minute walk to the last holdout.

They approached a corner, when their commander walking ahead of them signalled to stop. With his clawed hand still raised, he vanished into thin air. Still air betrayed what was to come.

A cry of alarm sounded, and a hail of gunfire came from behind the corner. Both he and Delta-Two hugged the wall instantly, and the former winced as a stray ricochet zipped past his helm.

It was over as quick as it began. The reverbs of the chaos rang in his ears, but there was enough discipline and will in him to focus past the disorientation and hear the command.

"Stack up."

Delta-Six moved first, side stepping Delta-Two and pressing into the hallway as the other man provided overwatch.

The view was to be expected. Gunfire had raked the walls in almost all directions, mainly up. A rather antiquated gatling gun of all things guarded the door, or at least it did. There were around seven combatants that now lay sprawled on the floor, incapacitated.

And pass it all, the commander stood with his back to them.

"Breach."

One word. One action. The two remaining members of Delta quickly moved past the bodies and their leader. Delta-Six reached into a pocket and quickly pulled out a small C4 block. One quick examination of the door, and he made a quick guess on how much he needed before acting on it.

Thirty seconds later, the door exploded. The mass of steel blew outwards and into the room they were breaching. Weapons raised, the two men stepped in and began scanning the room for threats.

A dozen or so combatants. Most prominent was the young woman in what remained of an elegant oriental dress. From his brief training when he was first Lazarus'ed, the world worked on a feudal-like mentality of pompous grandeur over utilitarian function. It worked somewhat, but it also made identifying threat levels easy.

A few had begun to recover quickly from the breach action, and the two warriors wasted no time in opening fire. Entire magazines were spent in a flash, and their saving grace was that the commander stood before them.

A swirling mass of black was the way to describe it. He didn't think stealth fields worked that way, but the man's unorthodox use had its function. The first men who approached were taken by surprise. The next batch were more hesitant. A dozen became four and they surrounded their mistress who looked unnervingly calm.

Delta-Six took aim, but a hand once more dictated his next action. He turned and looked at the commander's back, and his two arms that were raised. Said man, spared only one glance on his flanks before he began walking forward.

The four men kept their weapons pointed at the approaching figure, and likewise, the two warriors kept theirs pointed at them.

Black helm bobbed and swerved, as if keeping focus was a balancing act.

"Greetings, I've come to make a bargain."

Surprised flashed on the woman's face, and faster than anyone could react, the woman shrieked and then threw a sizeable, curved knife right at the commander. The weapon embedded itself deep into the helm, bypassing layers of steel and wiring.

It all happened so fast.

Delta-Six was about to pull the trigger, until he noticed that the commander hadn't dropped to the ground. No, both arms were still raised, and they'd moved just enough to emphasise the 'hold fire' stance.

In a feat worthy of awe, the man grasped the hilt of the blade with both hands and dislodged it by pushing it inwards and the yanking it out. Taking a peek at their reaction, Six noted the unnerved and trepidation faces of the survivors.

"As I've said, I've come to make a bargain."

The girl swallowed. "Yes? And have we got to offer you? You've already cleared out almost everything we have."

"I think not," the helm inclined. "You still have your lives, and I'm willing to exchange that for something else."

"And that is?" she sneered. The answer was fairly obvious.

"Compliance. And freedom. And benefits."

"You think we'd just accept after EVERYTHING THAT YOU DID!?" screamed one of the swordsmen. "You and you're upgunned savages came out of the damn Pits, torched our holdings, killed OUR families and now you effectively have us at death's door anyways! WHAT DO WE HAVE TO GAIN FROM YOU!"

"…..A most pressing concern, indeed. Let me show you then."

Reaching up to his broken helm, the commander tore the remains in two with his claws. It was clear for all in front to see what lay underneath and it wasn't pretty if the woman's face was any indicator.

The next instant, the back of the commander's head imploded.

The woman screamed, and even Delta-Six was taken by surprise. He could hear Delta-Two cursing something fierce as everyone watched the commander be lifted into the air. A second set of something impaled the man through his back as it happened.

With a sickening tear of flesh and leather, the body of the commander was then dropped on the floor. Large grooves tore through his backside.

And the one responsible was made just barely visible from the blood dripping down their form.

The air shimmered and parted to reveal an exact replica of the commander. The perfect and intact helm then parted back in five folds to reveal a face.

"There exists power. Power beyond your reckoning. It will shape the world, but only a few are worthy of it. We ask not those who are innocent and free, but those who are condemned and enslaved to join us. Do you wish to partake in the brave new world we seek to build?"

All five turned between the body on the floor and the replica in front of them. In his mind, Six didn't think the Lazarus worked that way, but what did he know? He only was meant to carry out orders just like when he was once alive.

"And what about my sister? What place does she have?"

No answer came, not immediately at least.

"…. We just recovered her. Her wounds are severe but they've also saved her from the worst of the gas below. We can heal her…. Make her stronger even."

Something danced in the woman's eyes. Something danced in all of their eyes, but the story there was different in each one.

"Take me to her," she demanded. It caused a ruckus.

"Boss! You can't be serious!"

"This bastard must be using some kind of Semblance. Wake up!"

"I ain't going to join a bunch of freaks!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU!"

The woman's shrieking reached his eardrums through the headphones. He'd have to check in with medical for his tinnitus level.

"We're not the Wave, nor are we the Hana Guild anymore. I'm not interested in dying here, and not apart from my own sister no less! You can die here if you want, but I'm at least going to see if I can get to see my sister one last time!"

"T-TRAITOR!"

One of the men snapped, his eyes wild with hysteria. He turned; sword raised to strike at his own leader.

CRAK!

A single shot fired. Six didn't know what kind of weapon it was, but the effects of the shot were apparent.

The man in question was hurled into the wall behind everyone. The contents inside the projectile had exploded before contact, releasing its payload. That being, a foam-like substance that hardened and restrained the man in place.

Said shot was done without even looking. The commander was casually holstering his sidearm.

"No more drama, please. Decide now. Join or die senselessly," the helm collapsed, encasing the face that Six couldn't see. "Your choice."

After a shared glace, however brief, swords were soon dropped on the ground.

---

It took the rest of the day to get the hangar bays under control.

The fires combined with the hallucinogens made for a very troublesome cleanup. I didn't want to run the risk of causing an even bigger mess by releasing the fumes into the open air, and so it was decided early on we'd accelerate the fire spreading to try and dilute the gas.

The logic worked somehow.

We were able to recover less than two dozen personnel out of slightly more than a hundred. It would seem our taking of Kuchinashi had an unintended effect of uprooting the gangs as well. I chastised myself for the oversight.

The wind of the night was welcoming. With the fumes having been exhausted enough, we were allowed to open the bay doors. MI-24 Hinds were what greeted us on the other side, having remained on station on even the slightest possible chance of an escape.

One such Hind approached, and with an impressive degree of handling, was able to wiggle into the hangar enough so that the rear doors could open at the edge and drop a man down safely. From the back, Governor Enlai emerged along with a small entourage of his own men. Immediately, the governor singled him out from where I stood on one side of the hangar.

Walking up to him, the man was quick to ask, "What did you do?"

"I acquisitioned aid and handled a subtle threat," I replied succinctly.

"Couldn't you have been more subtle about it? You just scared half the city! I've got reports of Grimm already prodding our outer ring," he grumbled.

EVA was quick to send me data. Smart lady, she noted the response from the Kuchinashi garrison. From what I was seeing on the simulated plane, it was very efficient.

"I entrust your men to handle it just fine. Besides, we've gained quite the booty from this."

I turned the head to look in the direction of the survivors. Most were still under the effects of the gas. The two sisters that had identified themselves as members of the Hana Guild were clinging together. Apart of me was alarmed at the mere existence of the Guild. I recognised my own fears of forgetting details brewing at the back of my skull.

"What do you plan to do with them?"

"Not me exactly, but the Black Hand should be able to whip them into shape. We'll be using them to insert into Mistral directly, as well as get a better layout of the underworld."

At that moment, the two remaining members of Delta squad returned. They wore the late era TibDawn uniforms. Black BDUs and combat vests. These uniforms were one to one from Renegade X, which was a mild surprise for me.

"Commander, we've gone through the cargo of the one remaining airship. Alpha has found something that they think you'd want to take a look at," reported Delta-Two.

I gave Enlai a look that beckoned him to follow me, and all four of us began walking to the aged vessel that stood against the odds, somehow.

---

….. I wasn't expecting this.

Before me, in an opened wooden crate, was a set of artifacts. Curious, I picked one up and noted how the 'gold' seemed real enough, but it was this… sensation that permeated from it that felt… off.

From where I stared from across the screen, I felt…. Hungry for whatever reason. My mouth dry. My tongue rough.

This…. Thing. This necklace. It excited me.

"Sir? Sir!"

My heart leaped at the calling. Opening a panel, I noted the urgent look of Enlai. Damn, I'd really did drift off.

"Yes?"

"….. I was asking, what is it?" the man asked, oddly more reserved and muted.

I gently inclined the head left, making it look as if I was pondering, which I was. Apart of me recalled something related to artifacts, but at the same time, not exactly linked to the Four big ones in a direct fashion. Still, I figured there was promise in this one.

Turning on my heel, I looked at Delta-Two dead in the eye.

"Have this packaged and sent to the nearest Shrine. Tell them, it's priority Alpha that it gets back to Fort Shaphat. Do. Not. Fail. Me."

Snapping to attention, the soldier gave me a chest salute and foot stomp. He took the necklace from me before running off, his remaining squadmate in tow.

"Is this one of those secrets I'm to be kept in the dark for?" Enlai piped up.

Turning the head to face him, I gave him as an honest an answer as I could.

"You'll know more when I confirm just what exactly that's been uncovered here. Until then, I'll see to it that you're given matters you can attend to."

A different set of footsteps thundered. We both turned to look at the source. It was a different soldier, one that my HUD marked as belonging to Alpha.

"Commander, we've found something that I think you'd want to see."

---

"It's…."

"….a pen for humans," I finished, my mind wording the first thing that came to it at what we were seeing.

It wasn't far from the truth. This… space, if it could even be called that, was filled to the brim with people. More bones than flesh, but undeniably people.

"HHHARRGH!"

Enlai was emptying his stomach. I couldn't fault him. The readings in my helm were telling me this place was less sanitised than a third world city sewage system.

In other words, filthy didn't even begin to describe it.

Stepping forward, I was immediately rewarded with a familiar crack. The right boot, as I inspected, was subject to stepping on glass. There, below me, was what remained of a syringe.

A syringe.

I sighed through my rebreather. The memories stirred in the interstices of my mind.

Wave. Hana. Narcotics.

I've done it now. No matter how minor, the timeline has been altered.

A moan.

The sound came from the left. I rotated the neck and stared at the sack of bones that looked back at me. It was hard to tell the gender of the thing.

Ignoring it, I walked down and deeper into the mass of bodies. It felt like a human hydra; where there was no telling where one limb or head ended, and another began. Quiet, moan and groan were synergised into a single, warbled chorus.

What did intend to achieve, I wondered. These people, they were too far gone, I could see that. Just… what.

Whimper.

Turning, I looked down and saw a frail form peeking from underneath one of the masses. Smaller, but far more alive than most other things here.

Reaching down, I pulled them out, careful and using my claws where I needed to cut away at any extremities that prevented me from pulling them out.

Finally, I was able to rise up once more, with the figure within my embrace. That was when others began to appear, or at least sound off and make their existences known from the chorus. My mind recognised the next course of action, and so turned towards the governor and soldiers still assembled at the door.

"Don't stand there gawking. Get me the Sisterhood and as many medical personnel as possible."

"….. You can't be serious about trying, sir?" questioned one of the men of Alpha.

"Don't question me. They didn't doubt you when they picked you for the Brotherhood. Hence, you don't have a right to doubt these people. Get moving!"

Yes, there was no right for them to doubt who could live or die.

At worst, the mountain of madness that was cultivating Tiberium could use something more…. Human in its fertilisers.

---

A/N: And so, we're back! And now I can start the long-awaited chapter of taking over Mistral! Buckle up for the three-part saga we're gonna go through!

So yeah, more talk, more plans and more changes. Still working on that last front, but I am building up as we go along.

Some interesting reviews that I have addressed personally, but I do feel it should be left here as well.

Nod's quasi nature of having a dip in one of everything is going to be prominent here. The decentralised nature plays a key role, and without GDI, they can actually spread fast once we get this show on the road.

Golden rule, if it's something remotely recognizable, it's probably Nod related.