The Ringing of a Forge of Stars [Warhammer 40k/ Celestial forge V3||OC...ish]

[Frescko]

Omake:

Alaya looked at Atham's corpse, it's jaw wide as if screaming out in agony. She sighed, such wasted potential he had. Before she left she sensed a child, glowing gold in the rafters jump down behind her

"hello there"

the two custodies acted on instinct to defend her- a worthless gesture but a kind one

"Ah Star Child… you are a bold one. I've been expecting you"

a moment of silence was pierced by the two chuckling

Sighing, the Star Child's face harden and looked at Atham's corpse

"he was a tired, broken and old man… all of us perpetuals who lived through the Old Night broke, he out of all of them the most. Hearing and seeing the fates that awaited untold trillions without the ability to lift a finger… will we be punished for our inaction during the Old Night as well?"

we? Ah in the rafters hundreds, maybe a thousand total translucent figures stood eyeing her, in shadows countless glowing pairs of eyes looked curiously, and Celestine appeared behind the Star Child holding up a halo- much to the Star Child chagrin.

"Was the theatrics really necessary?"

"no"

"It seems you still have some of his pride then."

"less my pride and more that of what my faithful attribute to me. But back to the question, before we where cast out or dislodged throughout the millennia we where- and still are him" The glowing child turned towards the golden throne, running a hand over a cable, lost in nostalgia for the briefest of moments

"You are no longer him, made by him, parts of him… but you have changed be it from survival or kindness. A living ship of Theseus how… peculiar."

"you speak yet you do not say, are we to be punished or are we innocent of crimes he- we committed?"

"Fool, think if you where to be punished then you wouldn't be here"

"I didn't know if you cared for theatrics as much as we did, traveling to each of us one by one and laying us to rest for good"

"So you all gathered here together- not the brightest move. Ironic as your a walking lightbulb"

a light chuckle came from the Star Child who looked up to the ceiling, a beautiful fresco painted. Closing his eyes he turned his head down and looked at Alaya

"we could run, but it would do us no good."

sighing Alaya looked the child in the eyes

"If you desire to be punished so much for crimes you have repented for… then this will be your punishment: I will grab every shard of Atham and you shall be reborn, remember his sins and strive to always be better, to not break again."

after a moment of silence the Star Child spoke.

"very well… we accept this geas."

sticking out her hand, the various translucent turned to golden dust followed by the countless pairs of glowing eyes.

Celestine glanced at her wings as they faded, expecting to go with them

"fear not Celestine, you are still needed" the Star Child spoke to her a smile crossing his face as he faded to golden dust "as much as I hated religion, I can't help but feel it's ironic we're going to pull a Virgin Mary"

Alaya holding a glowing orb in the palm of her hand looked at it and gently pushed it into Celestine's Womb.

"I don't know how to feel about being a mother" spoke Celestine bewildered and now with a hand above her womb. "I also don't know how to react to losing my wings…"

"worry not child you'll find raising him easy, I can guarantee it"

"yeah- oh she left already" she turned to a custodian, "announce my pregnancy and the emperor's reincarnation, I'm sure chaos has- pun intended spread across Sol with The Emperor's dying scream"

Alone Celestine looked at her stomach and though, her child, the emperor… needed a new name. How about Seth?

 

[Slider Zero]

The Speranza had arrived at its interim destination only a few hours prior, hoping to get a better look at the forces that had plagued their journey, and seemed to propagate even now amongst Humanity, before seeking out Holy Terra.

And Harry could only think to himself that it was the Emperor's own blessing that they did so.

The System was known locally as First Fall, and it was one of the many relay worlds that would be used as supply points and repair stations between Terra and the rest of the Imperium. Under normal circumstances, the light of the Astronomican would be almost blinding to Navigators as they sought out their destination, which would in turn require more focused and shorter jumps to compensate for the lack of vision. The upside, of course, was that being this close to the Astronomican meant that the Warp was usually a gentle stream compared to the wild and roiling wakes that could be found within the maelstrom.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, this was anything but a normal circumstance.

The planet below was in utter pandemonium. Reports of massive amounts of chaos worship and heresy everywhere, innumerable numbers of psykers suddenly forced into the open, even entire witch hunter cabals suddenly erupting in psychic light for absolutely no reason and almost immediately being put to the Emperor's Mercy…or at least attempted to do so, as whatever was causing the effect was also pointedly refusing to allow anyone to die from it.

Well, except for the many, many people of the hives below who found themselves breaking out into massive, unsightly mutations and aberrancies without any warning, each one a clear indication of not only chaos taint but how deep and to whom their allegiance was sworn to.

That many a chaos worshiper had been found in places of high authority and prestige, in the ranks of those who were believed to be beyond suspicion, was damning. Hell, even within the Emperor's Own Inquisition, much to the surprise of the masses (who were deliberately kept unaware that Inquisitors could even be rogue) could be found numerous tainted ones. It was nothing less than total chaos, and it was generally agreed by all parties onboard Speranza that they wanted nothing to do with it.

Especially because nearly all of them were still dealing with their own awakenings and transformations.

Amongst the Sororitas onboard, it was Sister Mariel who was by far the most pious of the lot, and she was downright adamant that it was the light of the Emperor himself shining on them and awakening them to what they could truly be. The other Sororitas quickly agreed, to no one's surprise, and even a few of the mixed bag of Van Saar remnants bought into it wholesale, mostly because there was nothing else that actually made sense.

Harry openly laughed at them all. "Trust me, this is somehow Green's fault. Don't ask me how or why, but I am certain that this is his fault."

Somehow, maybe, this did not erupt into an inferno of declarations of heresy and other cries of defamation. In this case, it was likely because Harry was the one most used to the mess that followed his friend around, and had been openly disdainful of the Imperium as it stood for some time, even to the Sisters.

The small bit of good news to come out of this mess was that the injured members of the crew were now recovering at exponential rates, and those of them who were in critical condition before were rapidly approaching full health. This included one Amos Barrugends, who was none too pleased with his circumstances.

And he had made a point of tracking down his nominal subordinate for answers. Who he located in the mess, going about the process of eating.

"Well, Cain? What the hell is going on? And don't tell me you don't know, you are far too entangled into this mess to not know something."

Again, Harry could only laugh. And it was a good laugh, too. Amos, for his part, was forced to sit and grumble while Harry got it out of his system.

When he was finally finished, only then did he bother to explain anything. "Well, Green ended up locating a full and uncorrupted STC after the shit that went down in the Hive. Local Chaos cults didn't agree with his having it, and even managed to get a full-up daemon involved, for what it was worth. Fallout from that got the Sororitas involved, they got their hands on some goodies that Green's Techpriestess whipped up, and we had a more or less front-row seat to everyone and their grandma moving to stop the STC from getting off planet."

The smirk on his face should have been declared illegal. "They failed."

Amos took a moment to process the incredulous turn of events. "And how does this pertain to the rest of us suddenly gaining such…abilities recently? And from the Emperor himself, it felt like?"

Harry shrugged. "No actual idea, but I can guarantee that Green is involved somehow. Weird things happen around him."

He took a bite out of a piece of fruit, a delicacy onboard a ship at the best of times. "You get used to it, eventually."

---

The Guardsmen of Cadia knew their duty. Knew it to be the one true calling of every son and daughter of their proud world, to stand and fight against the hordes that even now sought to break them and unleash the tide of chaos upon the universe.

And yet they stood tall, unbowed and unyielding as the forces of Abaddon the Despoiler threw themselves at their lines time and time again.

Now was another one of those times, won by blood and sacrifice for the glory of the Emperor and the Imperium. Men and women died in the trenches and fighting holes of their positions, in the armored vehicles, and elsewhere as they made sure that the traitor scum paid for every last millimeter of land that they took. Lakes of blood were shed that the chaos filth knew the truth of things: that there would be no easy day here, no victory for the heretic today.

Or tomorrow.

Or the next day.

It was during one of those assaults that something changed.

Commissar Anton Grauser barked orders to his charges, encouragement and 'encouragement' in equal measure as he felt necessary, though he counted himself fortunate that the latter was seldom, if ever, necessary of late. Cadia, as always, produced the finest guardsmen in the Imperium, and none yet were able to stand against their might.

"Come on you dogs!! The Heretic advances, MAKE HIM PAY FOR IT!!"

His men responded with murderous intent, cutting down the oncoming horde of cultists with ease…and yet more were coming. It had been like this for hours now, the near ceaseless waves of cultists and even some traitorous guardsmen swarming their lines, trying to breach their defenses. Thus far, no attempt had succeeded…and yet the tide was unceasing.

And his men were equally unceasing, much to his shock. Not a man had flagged under the waves of enemies, and not a man had fallen to enemy fire. In fact, their marksmanship was better than ever, their weapons chewing through the heretics with ease that was only deserved of the enemies of Man.

The Commissar would have questioned it, given it thought that maybe, maybe, it was something to worry about, but he had been fighting for over twelve hours now and had little time or patience to waste with unimportant thoughts.

A cultist managed to, by sheer luck, get close enough to engage in melee…and quickly found itself riddled full of holes by his own laspistol, and then summarily cleaved clean through by his service cutlass.

"See, Lads!! Watch as the Heretics fall on our steel!! Make them weep rivers and oceans of blood for our planet!!"

His men howled a battle cry that shook the oncoming heretics to their core.

And not one of them noticed the combined glow surrounding the men as they held their line against all comers.

They were far from the only ones, as the guardsmen of the planet surged with newfound might, stamina, and purpose.

The accounting of the day would turn out to be an especially gruesome one indeed…for the heretics.

Of the defenders, not a single man planet-wide would fall that day, an event that would be attributed to miracle and the Emperor's Grace.

---

The Craftworld of Biel-Tan was in uproar.

As the surge of power raced across the galaxy, borne on the light of the Astronomican, the Farseers and fate-weavers of the Aeldari suddenly found themselves stumped as the Mon-keigh, the very fools who knew nothing of the true threats of the galaxy, were unexpectedly empowered beyond anything that had been seen in the history of the Aeldari people. That it also completely shattered the plans and machinations of the greatest among their number was seen as an even greater insult.

Perhaps most damning of all was that whatever force this was acting upon the Mon-keigh, it completely ignored everything and everyone else.

Including the Aeldari themselves, much to their ongoing envy.

After all, was it not they who were the true masters of the galaxy? The ones who saw further and did more to stymie the oncoming encroachment of Chaos, the awakening of the accursed tombs of the Necrontyr, and far, far worse still?

It was this scene that greeted the survivors of the disaster that was Necromunda, fresh from the webway after escaping the now Warp storm-wracked world. Questions plenty were asked of those who were there, answers demanded from those who potentially knew anything of what had gone down, and more importantly if this was connected to the strange automaton creature that had recovered one of the old Mon-keigh STC machines.

For young Marasin, none of this mattered. He just wanted to return to his family…or what was left of it, after the mess on Necromunda. Not that anyone would listen to him, if they knew the truth. They barely were willing to give his mother the time of day as it was, and she had been assigned to the place!!

No, it was best if he stayed hidden as much as possible, especially considering his maman's circumstances…lest it become known what she had done.

As it was, she was already in enough trouble with the powers that be.

An unwanted mental nudge from the craftworlders around him was deflected with ease as he maintained his concealment. Sure, being physically hidden didn't do much on a craftworld, with the Aeldari in general being powerful psychics all, but it still made him feel better.

And more to the point, it hid the more obvious signs of his heritage…which was now all the more important as the great will worked her way around the galaxy, empowering her children.

Including him. Especially him.

Oh yes, he knew of her existence and what she desired. It was impossible for him not to, not after she had all but reached out to him personally and granted him his birthright as a son of Man.

Not once had the fact that he had also been a son of the Aeldari ever come up, and if anything she seemed amused at the fact. She did not call him monster, abomination, or any number of other things that would have marked him for extermination in the Imperium and derision and scorn at best among the Eldar proper.

His mother had agreed wholeheartedly in that regard, often venting her frustrations on him at the inability of either side to actually see one another, let alone properly talk. Something about a combination of enforced ignorance on the part of the Imperials meeting the complete and absolute Arrogance that was the Aeldari. Because of course only the Aeldari had the vision and strength to save the galaxy from the threats that plagued it, proof to the contrary be damned.

Even as the previous wave of energy, the Force itself, had reached out to them, offered them a place and a choice when before there was none…and the Eldar had rejected it as beneath them, as they were masters of their own fate.

But now?

Now it could no longer be ignored. The strength and will of Humanity could no longer be dismissed as the flailing of children before their elders, as the fools who styled themselves masters of the Eldar had claimed. (oh, his mother had gone OFF on that particular rant…)

And the horror of the situation was that he was living proof of what was possible, now. Now that the Will had awoken, and had reached out to her children.

Marasin could only grin, as the light of his soul shone clearly around him. The screams of frustration of the Bitch that Thirsts were pure music to his ears as he listened to the realization of the chaos god that there was an Eldar soul that was forever beyond its reach…nevermind that that soul was also human, and far, far stronger as a result.

'I wonder what will happen now? Now that the house of cards that is the Eldar is tumbling down?'

A sensation of connection bloomed in his mind, as he was drawn to several distant sparks of light throughout the galaxy, every last one of them being cradled in the Lady's light.

Marasin could only grin at the implications.

---

The two of us dashed across the lunar surface, practically dancing across the landscape as we moved along.

[Come on, catch me!!!]

And playing the entire time.

Currently, we were in the middle of an impromptu game of tag that had evolved from the race that we had held earlier. The two of us were rushing about, completely carefree of any and all worries as we chased each other, our objective of reaching the Pytheas moonbase temporary forgotten.

Mio was being particularly elusive, dodging around my various dives and rushes with a careless grace that was only offset by the peals of laughter at my attempts. This, along with the blatantly lewd stream of thoughts and emotions she was throwing at me, only spurred me on ever harder.

Honestly, we really found the place by complete accident. Pytheas was situated inside a rather large crater, the vast majority of it shielded from view to the lunar surface proper, with the exception of the main control tower and what I thought might be a setup for a Mass Driver system of some sort. The crater itself was mostly exposed, with only a central section domed off and protected against the lunar atmosphere (or lack thereof, considering). Considering that I had tackled Mio all but directly into the dome itself in our play, I was surprised I only noticed all of this just now.

Of course, the vent fans for the crater (and wasn't that amusing to see) were broken and leaking atmosphere and spraying moon dust into the protected zone. I took a moment away from focusing on Mio, who was currently squirming quite deliciously in my arms, to take a quick look inside through the clear glasslike material, and saw quite clearly the horde of Typhon moving about below us, many of which that seemed to be shifting to approach us.

It was with a great regret that I steered Mio back on task, and away from her (very successful) attempt at seducing me. [Well, I think that we have a bit of work to do before we can play some more, honey.]

Mio, of course, pouted. Cutely. [They can wait. I need you first.] She punctuated this with an extremely sensual motion that practically had me on fire with need.

But, alas, we had to clear out the Typhon first before I could properly scratch that itch.

The battle was short and uninteresting. Sure, the Typhon were out in drives, and there was a new variant that the local databases referred to as a Moonshark to deal with, but at the end of the day we were simply entirely too strong to deal with now that we didn't have to worry about a space station breaking under the strain of our power, let alone people being adversely affected by the same. Even the Nightmares mixed in with the lot, which were of the severely upgraded variety that I had fought in the Talos Reactor space, were spiked and punted with little fanfare.

If anything, the bigger story here was that somehow our overall power had skyrocketed. Again. The one semi-saving grace attached to it was that most of the gain was purely psionic, likely related to us having to fight off the Apex alone, but the bleedover into the rest of our skills was beginning to highlight some issues that would need addressing.

For one, the mass growth in psionic potential had caused a commensurate spike in chakra potency and a similar (if significantly lesser) boost to capacity for some reason, which in turn impacted Aura reserves and potency, which splashed all over fucking everything with a degree of craziness that could only be allowed because it was literally the manifest soul…you get the idea.

Worse was that the process had completely shot a lot of the fine control stuff that I was used to doing, simply because of the enormity of the boost. My best guess is that it would take months to get back to where I was in that area, and Mio potentially even longer, as she still had the normal issues associated with being a goddamn dragon. Just about the only light in that tunnel was that I had already known and developed a series of high-level control exercises that were part of my normal training routine, and could easily rework them for the new tolerances with little effort.

That being said, Pytheas was a mess, and that was just judging from the crater space alone. There was random junk spread all over the place, most of the unshielded electronics were on the verge of failure for various reasons, and the few places that did have some kind of control or power interconnection were in extreme disrepair.

The fact that the bare few Harvester operators (and wasn't that a novel idea that needed to be deployed Earthside) that weren't corrupted were starting to run down said a lot, really. Especially as the Harvesters themselves were built to some rather intense standards in regard to durability.

I marked places for needing general fixes and upgrades for later. There were a distressingly large amount of them.

Moving through the base's areas told a story all too familiar to me: The Moonworks, which was a combination mining facility and heavy machinery shop, was about what I expected in terms of grisliness, with the requisite bodies everywhere, signs of sabotage and betrayal, and the multitude of Typhon being a pain in the ass. Pytheas Labs was even more of a bloodbath, complete with the unethical and monstrous experimentation on living humans going down, along with a rather idiotic move in playing with fire: what the research notes called a 'Mimic portal', which was supposed to be a form of transport via a type of teleportation? Couldn't figure it out, but I do know that someone had used it at one point or another.

That the live Typhon that were being studied had broken containment and run amok was to be expected. Honestly, I was somewhat surprised that they had managed to work out suitable containment for the stronger forms that held for so long.

Oh no, it was the Crew Quarters that really got me. Bodies everywhere I was used to, Typhon everywhere was a nuisance at best, but it was what we found when we made it to the Director's office that was the shocker.

The base's Director, a one Ms. Riley Yu, was dead. I had expected that much.

What I didn't expect was the cause: somehow she had been hooked up to some kind of neural transfer device, and from the looks of it the feedback from the machine had been responsible for killing her.

Except, even a casual look at the tech involved made it clear that my hypothesis was impossible by design. Meaning that someone had intentionally made a point of killing her off. But why, and what end did it serve to do so? It confused the hell out of me.

I felt Mio nudge against my mind to draw my attention to something. There was a 'ghost' of some type moving around, clearly trying to do some kind of data backup procedure. I watched as she–and yes, I could tell now, that definitely was a she–moved quickly to stuff as much of the operational and experimental data into an Operator of some kind, after which she then sat down in the very chair that Ms. Yu had died in.

And I got a front row seat to watching as some sick kill switch program engaged and made certain that Riley never made it out of the facility.

A quick check of some leftover security footage showed that there was apparently a spy of some type moving around and doing dirty work that may have been responsible. According to the log, she likely used one of the escape pods to get out of dodge.

The part that got to me, though…was my complete lack of empathy for either of them. As much as I wanted to feel bad for Riley, she was still overseeing the brutal and sickening experiments with the Typhon involving 'Volunteers'. And if anything, Pytheas' experiments were worse than those on Talos, lacking the requirement to actually look good for the camera like the Station did.

On the part of her would-be murderer, I felt even less, not knowing for what purpose she struck out or to whom she served, as she clearly had an agenda revolving around that Operator that had been loaded with the experiment data. Likely an extreme case of corporate espionage, but still.

[Satori. There is no shame in not feeling for those who have dug their own graves.] Mio spoke to me, directly addressing the root cause of my problems, as usual. [They are long since beyond our help or influence. Their mistakes are their own. As are their fates.]

She was right, of course. I knew she was. But even then, I couldn't help but compare myself to an idealistic standard and say that I should be better somehow. No matter how illogical and unfair I was being to myself, I still could only feel that my dismissal of their fates as deserved was going too far.

It would be something to think about, later on.

---

It took about four hours to do a full-clear of Pytheas of all Typhon organisms, and with the place cleaned up of any Xenos influence, Mio and I got to work.

First and foremost, the Base was a wreck and a half, and needed upgrades and retooling at every step. We both took the opportunity to utilize a few extra Ideas that we had been sitting on for some time, mostly as proof-of-concepts, like the combo Recycler/Fabricator setup we were playing around with. Alongside, the base was getting some severe upgrades to both general aesthetic and structural integrity as we moved along, and even getting a bit of an expansion as well. The central command tower (such that it was) in the Crater got the most of our attention, seeing as it was the hub around which everything else was built, but everything got a major touch up.

We'd also created a memorial of sorts, having gone out of the way to cremate the remains of the remaining personnel and bury them beneath the simple plinth we had erected to mourn their loss. This was my idea, mostly because I was still of the impression that even if they were all in on the madhouse that was happening down here, none of them deserved to be eaten by aliens.

That being said, after giving them their resting place, I moved on and never once looked back.

"Alright, we got the relays done, most of the computing systems are upgraded, new mainframes all over the place and a nice central computer core buried underneath the command tower to manage it all. We missing anything else here, honey?"

Mio was reading off of a checklist that we had drafted up in the all of four hours it took to redo the majority of Pytheas to a proper safety standard. Considering that this was phase two of our upgrade plans, it made sense.

"Nothing on my end, and I know nothing on yours. Upgrades to Pytheas labs to change it into something that isn't horrific is next on the list, and then we can get into dealing with Moonworks later." or finish dealing with it, at any rate. There were still a lot of things that we wanted to get finished up with the base, but first and foremost was our current pet project: a proper communications array.

Mio finished setting up her end of the system and quickly returned herself to her 'Designated Proper Position'™ at my side. We had just finished up a relay that should theoretically allow us to punch a signal all the way out through the Oort cloud with minimal signal degradation on either end. Better yet, if the other side was using the appropriate communications gear, they could reply with minimal delays between transmissions.

I stood next to the control panel, a slight anxiety working its way through my body. If this worked…we could find out what happened to the rest of the escapees. Hell, we could probably find out what happened to the ones that had to have been dragged off of Necromunda with us.

Or, if my hunch was correct, we could actually get a signal out to that ship drifting on the system edge, which I believed to be ours.

Mio physically nudged me, and I could feel warmth and encouragement being directed my way as well. It was enough to break my ennui and actually hit the button.

Startup was, for all that it was a bit of a marvel of engineering, a dull and uninteresting affair. Power draw was nominal, the system remained stable, the anti-tampering had successfully fried a technopath that tried to get too close (which reminded me to get something together for a full sweep of the moon itself later on). Everything was working just as it was intended to…including the beacon frequency that had just lit up everything even thinking about looking at the moon with a notification of a new transmitter.

A few adjustments had me sending out a general signal to the outer edge of the system along the same course that I had first picked up the active sweep from. If anything, I had hoped to receive a reply back within about a day or so.

So the sudden connection that we got was a bit surprising, especially since it came with video. Live video, at that.

And on the viewscreen, there was a Small Green dude in an orange Spacesuit, clearly working at getting a stable comms signal. He looked up, and it was with a nice bit of amusement that I watched Bob Kerman partially panic at the signal resolving itself, only to then look at the camera.

He blinked for a few moments. We stared back, amused grins on our faces.

Eventually, he seemed to break out of his trance. "Hey, JEB!! We got a Signal! It's the Bosses!"

Jeb rushed into view a moment afterwards, looking slightly haggard for all that it had been maybe fifteen hours since I'd picked up their sweep. Maybe he wasn't sleeping?

"Boss! Glad to see you alright. Was worried for a moment that we would end up losing you somehow."

Mio and I chuckled in grim amusement. "Well, you weren't wrong. I ended up on a space station with Mio that ultimately tried to eat us." I stopped for a moment to buff my nails against my suit. "We flipped the bullshit and instead fried the creatures responsible."

Why, yes, I am just a bit smug about surviving Talos, and allowing for people to escape as well.

Mio took over while I was busy humble-flexing. "Right now we're on Luna, specifically the Moon of Sol III for you guys who are new to this. We basically took over a base that had been overrun by the same bastards as the station, and did some repairs and upgrades after cleaning house. How about you guys?"

Judging by the frowns on both of their faces, I suspect that they had some bad news.

"Well, it's good news and bad news with this, boss." Jeb replied. "Good news is that we have enough provisions to make it for at least a month without issue, and more besides in case of emergency. The bad news is that we might end up stuck here that long for the ship to finish doing its thing and then repair from the crash jump that I did to get out of system from that weird shit." There was a noticeable shudder through both Kerbal's forms at that. My guess is that they nearly got swallowed by the warp storm.

Bob continued onwards. "The Ship itself is mostly fine, but until the process completes, we are drifting on auxiliary power. Nobody wants to risk firing up the main drive for actual power in case of something going wrong, mostly because we have no real clue how things work here."

OOF.

What Bob was describing was a very nasty catch-22 in the situation regarding maintenance of a new-build ship. Namely, you have the competent crew to do the fix, but A) the ship itself is beyond the expertise of your best people, and B) even the manuals are incorrect. The normal solution to this problem, relying on institutional knowledge, is pointless because of the new-build status and the general system novelty factor.

Meaning that the poor Kerbals legitimately had no clue that the reason it was taking so long for the process to complete was because they had denied power to systems. In fairness, it was likely for a really good reason…at first. But then it would get to the point where the issue would have corrected itself, been corrected by the crew, or generally had been worked around, and nobody knew what to do from there because the ship was even now changing under their feet.

Still, the solution was obvious, at least to me. "Bob, I'm going to make a recommendation that you are free to ignore. Restart the main reactor, please."

Bob gave me a harsh look. "We are unsure of what, if any, effect a restart at this time would cause." Jeb stood next to him, nodding along in agreement.

"That being said…it is likely that the ship itself will prevent a restart if it becomes an issue. I will let Bill know to get on it." Cue my personal shock that they were willing to go for it.

Jeb was still nodding along, now with an eager, almost vicious smile on his face. Apparently, some of my shock was clear enough for them to see. "Don't be so shocked, boss. We all know the risks of being up here. Hell, this is what we live for. The risk is well worth it if you think it's good."

Bob had opened up another communication window and was conversing with poor Bill, who had the unenviable task of running the Engineering department of the ship. The discussion window flicked over to the main screen as the discussion finished, and Bill was quick to pounce.

"Alrighty then, Green. Tell me more about how this engine is supposed to work, so I can be satisfied that we're not about to kill ourselves up here."

---

It took about two hours for the basics of operation to be imparted to Bill, during which time I walked him though a bit of a crash-course in reactor management. It was not made any easier by the fact that the ship itself was seemingly making great inroads into doing some interior modifications to ensure nothing like the crash jump could cause any more major issues.

This, of course, modified the hell out of everything I knew about the reactors and even the engine systems themselves, often leaving me in the position of having to make wild mass guesses as to what was going on at any one time. Which was super fucking annoying, as I had personally designed both the particular setup of Mass Effect Drive and the recently dubbed Etherwave Reactors (the concept mana/photonic hybrid reactors, finally brought to something approaching usability).

Let me tell you, watching your own tech mutate beyond your own understanding is not a fun experience.

Eventually, though, we'd managed to get enough of an understanding and confidence in the system to be willing to do a Reactor start. This may or may not have involved Mio screaming at the Kerbals over a vid link ("Will you stupid fucks just DO IT ALREADY!?!") and a not insignificant amount of owed favors on my part, but we got them to start the Reactor back up.

And nothing happened. Which took everyone by surprise, as even Valentina was expecting something to go boom somewhere. It was another three hours before we were all satisfied that Murphy had been given his due, and would trouble us no more this activity.

Reactor start was perfectly normal, everything was in the green, and estimated time until full conversion and repair was dropping like a stone. Better yet, they now had motive power to try and make it back in-system to pick the rest of us up, or at least to set down and check out our nice moonbase…which would now need a spacedock. Fuck.

Well, we were doing remodeling anyway. Might as well make a proper spaceport while we were at it.

---

Mio had taken the project to renovate Pytheas completely to heart, and even now she was pushing forwards with a gusto that surprised even her.

Didn't stop her from basically tearing the entire base apart at the seams and doing rebuilds practically from the ground up. Crew Quarters got revamped, both to accommodate a more friendly atmosphere and to be far more comfortable to those who actually had to stay there, which necessitated a bit of expansion to the structure that was easily accomplished with all of the spare materials hanging around.

Moonworks was harder, but that place was meant as part of the Helium-3 mining operations anyway, and wouldn't need much in the way of major improvements aside from general safety and efficiency, which she placed onto the back burner.

No, it was the Pytheas Labs that garnered her full and near undivided attention once she became aware of just how horrendous the place was, both to normal senses and supernatural ones. The ghosts of the volunteers that had been abused against their will lingered still, and the echoes of the Typhon somehow clung to the place like a particularly nasty fungus.

Her cleanup efforts spared nothing.

The results spoke for themselves, really. Pytheas labs had now been expanded into a brand new and improved Research and Development center, complete with several technologies that the labs did not have access to, as well as a connection to a small manufacturing and testing area that her Satori had jokingly named the Proving Grounds. Of the original, Typhon-oriented research material there was nothing left, save three items of note: the first was a piloting connectome for programming Neuromods, and one that had likely been used in an escape attempt somewhere. The second was an experiment, the Mimic Portal, that had been left more or less live and neither of them were sure what to do with it.

It was the third that had temporarily stalled her efforts to render her new moonbase into a proper home.

Satori, of course, was hovering around her with his usual curiosity brimming at the surface. "So, what is it, exactly?"

Mio shrugged, her own relative confusion clear. "The notes called it a 'psychostatic cutter'. I haven't been able to find much about exactly what it is just yet, but based on the name alone, I think it's a psionically-enhanced blade of some sort. It's not that big of a deal, but it did catch my interest."

Mio waved an arm over at the machinery of the Mimic Portal, now safely disconnected, and moved out into the crater area, and particularly into a very nasty killbox. "And then there's this thing here, which I don't trust at all but also don't wanna trash in case it's important somehow. Other than that, the renovations to the labs is going well, thank you." The last part was spoken very sarcastically, though she knew that her mate took no offense to it. By now, that was just a part of their game, really.

Satori looked over at the construction efforts that they were laying down with speeds that would terrify normal people…and without their frames, to boot. "So, when'dya think we should call the upgrade process a done deal? Right now, we're kinda just turning the place into a bit of a house, you know…"

"And this is a problem? We cleaned up the mess that Transtar left in here, we are rebuilding it to suit our needs, I say we get to call the place a home. They don't like it? Too bad."

She knew all too well the feelings that her smiles instilled in him. What she very carefully tried to mask was just how devastating the same from him was to her. Already she could feel her arousal spiking and the familiar ache of need echoing…

That man was going to drive her crazy one of these days, just from gestures alone, and she would love it. Fortunately for her, that day was not today.

"So. since this is now our new home, wanna get the place set up properly? There's some things I could use your input on, after all–"

---

It was now the second day of our current sojourn on the moon, and we had expanded the old Pytheas base into a full complex that spread out all around the crater itself, as well as beneath the lunar surface outside of it. We were actually joking around about expanding to one of the other craters as well, maybe creating a proper lunar city while we were at it, just to tweak Transtar's nose in general.

Of course, that would have to wait for us to finish actually upgrading the base first. Especially since after the first wave of upgrades and remodeling had gone through, we started getting downright inspired about certain things.

Mio had decided to test out a particular variation on the old Transparent Steel concept, except using a material that was significantly stronger, something along the lines of an exotic Titanium alloy if I remember correctly. So far, her results were promising, but slow as all hell, even with the fabrication technology of Transtar to the rescue…which she was not using. Something about wanting to get things right first before going ham with the fabricator.

For my part, I was busy working on a series of experiments in what was now officially the 'experimental computing' wing of the labs. The basics of it involved me reviving some pretty novel forms of old computing tech from the 1980s that I thought I could push to the limit. The first was an experiment in improvements to magnetic storage methods, which tended to keep shockingly well under even general care, despite the otherwise slower access times.

The second, however, was something that I had only heard of in passing on a computing-related chat board years ago, and had forgotten about until now: actual, no-shit holographic storage. And sure enough, there was some old cypher warrior here on Pytheas who had a cache of old computing memorabilia and peripherals, including one of the older holographic drives.

Now, the technology was very much immature even for it's time. For one, while the data kept supremely well in all but the most extreme cases and the access and read times were insane, especially for 80s tech, the main issue was the fact that the format was initially only capable of WORM (Write Once, Read Many) operation, and even as the tech advanced the best that could be done for rewrite operations required the drive to be wiped clean due to the process involved in doing so.

The other major issue revolved around the actual write times as compared to total storage capacity, which was abysmal. While data could be written to the drives at a cheery 20 megabytes/sec, that speed was only for the absolute latest iteration of the drives…which could hold well over 300 gigabytes of data.

In the early 2000s.

In any case, the first was an idle curiosity project that I was undertaking mostly because of the abundance of magnetic storage up here on the moon, and the second because I was pretty sure I could solve nearly all of the major issues with the holographic storage pretty easily.

My current setup involved a series of tests to determine the best material for use as a storage medium in the first place, and so far it was looking like a variant of Silica Quartz was winning based on what I had available. Most of the second and third stage testing had completed already to resounding successes, and was only awaiting my selection of a final material to work with.

It was for this reason that I was very aware when Watts decided that he needed my attention on something important, and immediately pulled me into a mindscape.

Unlike the last few times this had happened, I was more than aware of my own power and faculties and could maintain my perspective without slipping into the 'dream haze' that was characteristic of our earlier meetings, which I appreciated greatly.

The constellations of stars above me that represented the Forge of Stars radiated with an intense light, and I could easily see the various nodes that had been activated with my own eyes, their light shining down upon me and filling me with warmth. I paid no mind to the fact that the forge itself wasn't even a fraction lit, the myriad abilities and skills still slowly gathering power.

Watts remained his usual self, and chose to remain silent for this part, instead gesturing towards a…guest(?) of sorts. The person was tall, taller than even I was, for that matter, and a noticeably earthen skin tone. The only thing that really stood out about him, aside from the clothing that I thought was vaguely Egyptian inspired, was that he literally had a bird head, though I could not place the type.

He was also semi-translucent, as if he was not really all here.

He seemed to notice me as soon as I noticed him, as he immediately perked up and began speaking. "Ah, there you are. It would seem that you are the one that has been chosen to carry the legacy forward, child."

He reached into a satchel that he held at his side and pulled out a series of notebooks, which he then motioned towards me. "I will entrust unto you these, to do with as you see fit. Please try to take care of them, they took me some time to acquire."

Watts remained silent, and it was with a note of startlement that I realized why.

After all, I had only named my freaking Valkyrie Core after him.

Thoth, the Egyptian God of, amongst other things, Magic, Wisdom, Science, and the fucking Moon was apparently entrusting me with his personal notes on something. And as much as I was flattered that the God would deem me worthy in any capacity for such a task, I was busy looking for a catch of some kind.

Which, of course, he noticed, and somehow smiled at me in approval and respect, despite having an Ibis' head at the time. I chalked it up to God and moved on.

"Don't worry. It's just my notes on some things that I felt important enough to catalog on various subjects. They will likely be useful in your endeavors as the master of your forge."

Well, it was hard to argue with that kind of logic, and he was right: the notes of a literal Deity would be very useful to me in my further explorations of both technology and magic alike. Thus, it was with a solemn bow of respect that I accepted the charge of keeping Thoth's notes.

And, of course, that is when things went…not quite wrong, but well…let's just say that Murphy got his revenge.

As I most definitely could hear the crashing, screeching sound of something impacting against the pocket dimension that housed the Hangar HARD.

All three of us immediately looked in the 'direction' of the Hangar, only to find that a confused Mio had popped into the Mindscape as well, trying to find out what had happened, and was looking in the same direction.

And all that we could tell was that there was now something extra in the hangar itself, that I would assume was Thoth's notes…wait a minute…

Mio was faster. "Just what the hell was in those notes of yours?"

Thoth chuckled. It was a friendly chuckle, at least. "My notes. I admit that the entire set is a bit…disorganized, and is in need of some categorization, but they are all there." He took a moment to nod to himself. "In any case, that is all I had for you. I wish you and your lady wife the best. Farewell!"

Thoth left quickly after that, his translucent form vanishing completely as he did so. Watts turned to me with a grimace.

"The things I have to put up with…anyway, yeah. That right there is going to be an issue, and 'digesting' it is going to take a bit, even with it being a kind of mega-packet, so to speak. Fortunately, the guy was nice enough to let me properly integrate his stuff into the forge, so it's not all bad."

And sure enough, I could see one of the stars in a particular constellation burn brighter, it's power slowly flowing through the rest of the whole. Several others had also chosen to activate at that moment, likely as a result of my initiating the integration process for the notes. I wasn't complaining, at any rate.

Mio stepped next to me as we watched the spectacle and majesty of the whirling heavens as we were bathed in their light. I absently wrapped an arm around her, which she reciprocated by leaning into my touch as we just enjoyed the moment.

"Oh yeah, one more thing before you two head back. I looked into the thing with the Force, and apparently something or someone else stepped in before it got too horrible, but there are likely to be outside consequences. Don't be surprised if things start changing beyond what you expect."

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have an extremely hot wife that desperately needs a good dicking down from her hubby, so I'll be on my way. Do enjoy your honeymoon, now."

We both nodded our agreement, and Watts turned to leave.

"Oh, and before I forget: congratulations."

Of course, we paid it no mind, as we were enjoying the moment before we were gently ejected from the mental landscape, and I was once again back to my project.

Then again, Watts did have a good idea, there, regarding things to do with thirsty wives…

---

Mio grumbled to herself as she went about her newest project, which had been interrupted by that damned horndog of a husband of hers deciding that her time was better spent elsewhere, like on his cock.

And because her man couldn't keep it in his pants, she had lost nearly ten hours on her project.

Nevermind that she did not once complain, reject him, or say anything even remotely looking like the word no. Nor the fact that she had been wildly enthusiastic in both her consent and enjoyment, that she had been openly egging him on to do exactly as he had done since they had gotten here, or that she had systematically made sure that he thought of her exactly as he did now. In fact, completely ignore that she had been tripling and quadrupling down on making it blatantly clear that she was fair game for him at ANY time, or that she was an even bigger pervert than she had finally 'corrupted' him into being (openly no less, at least with her).

No, she still got to complain about his libido taking front and center because she wanted to complain. That, and it kept her thoughts focused away from her own libido screaming out to her that the job was not finished.

'Fine then. Interrupt my projects? See if I let you sleep tonight…'

Anyway, her own libido and it's implications aside, her current project for the Moonworks section was to do a general refinement of the mining tools and helium-3 extraction equipment, as well as do general cleanup of the place just because. So far, it was tedious but satisfying, leaving even the mining areas in a neat and orderly fashion for her to set up for the next phase of her master plan, which was to begin tunneling out to a location suitable for a small spaceport or at least a dock of some kind that the Rising Phoenix could use.

Honestly, she liked the name. Felt somehow that she was doing justice to the old crew of the Awakening Will by acknowledging the reborn nature of the ship.

That it got her mind off of the things that Satori had done to her during their last session was very much a needed bonus, because otherwise they weren't going to get anything done.

As it turns out, being extremely powerful psychics with several layers of mental and spiritual bonding tends to lend itself to some interesting techniques, one of which had sparked as an idea in her Satori's head and had led down their latest rabbit hole.

Somehow that crazy man had had the idea to plumb her psyche while she was too busy cumming her brains out and had systematically gone after every last one of her mental 'imperfections', as it were. Every insecurity, mental scar, traumatic memory, all of them drowned in the utter ocean of love and support he poured inside, even as he scooped out the lingering pain and trauma and all but flushed it away.

Even now, the benefits were astounding. Her mind had never felt more clear, and the benefits thereof were so numerous that even trying to list them was an exercise in futility. Hell, even her very soul felt as if it was well and truly freed for the first time in ages.

It just felt right.

And it was taking an increasingly great deal of her quite prodigious willpower to not march right back to him, pin him down, and return the favor. In fact, now that she thought about it, she had never been this horny in her life. And yet, every check, every even slightly usable scan that they had for such things indicated that there were no adverse presences or things trying to corrupt them from within. Just two people desperately in love and more than willing to indulge in each other completely and utterly.

A moonshark put in an appearance directly to her side, only to immediately be cut down by a burst of magic before it could even begin its attack

'Well, except for those, anyway.'

Mio grimaced. The Typhon infestation was gone from Pytheas proper, but there were enough of the more annoying types spread out across the lunar landscape that she would not have been surprised if they were attempting to form another nest somewhere away from prying eyes…and seeking bullets. It was something that they were considering options for dealing with without the entire mess turning into a game of whack-a-mole.

This meant that the occasional bigger Typhon creature would try to put in an appearance to annoy them at inopportune times. Hell, they had tried at least twice during her last cuddle session. It was almost as if the Typhon were afraid or something…

The thought alone was enough to elicit a snicker from her. 'Of course they should be afraid. After all, they are no longer the dominant life form on this moon.'

But back to her tedium project. After all, the sooner it got done, the faster she could corner her husband…

---

I have created a monster.

Mio had completely flipped the table on me last night, and the resulting bout of lovemaking had left me without sleep, likely just as she had intended. Worse, she had taken my odd, instinctual fumbling at mental healing, refined it to hell and back within the all of twenty minutes I wasn't paying active attention to her while fighting my own libido, and had then unleashed the result upon my own mind and all the issues therein.

All I know for sure past a certain point was that I had been crying for a bit somewhere in the middle of that. I didn't have a good track of when or how long, just that it happened and coincided with Mio working me over the same way I had helped her.

The rest of the night (and most of the morning, for that matter) was lost to us engaging in some super degenerate mind-to-mind sex complete with handholding. It was perverse as all hell, and we loved it.

And then I had to get up and deal with the other issues of the day.

For one, the spaceport that we wanted was not going to build itself, and the Phoenix, despite having a pretty good set of construction tools on hand, was not equipped to finish the job on its own, even if we were willing to go that route.

Second, and more concerning, was that the Typhon up here were getting downright uppity about being a nuisance, and clearing them off of the lunar surface was going to need to be a priority.

Third was a bit more insidious. Mio and I had both noticed the uptick in our respective libidos, and despite both of us wanting to wave it off as a non-issue, the fact of the matter was that Chaos had a vested interest in trying to find loopholes on us. The resulting checks for corruption and/or influence supposedly came back clean (which meant that we were okay to use magic again without potentially killing ourselves), but I was not above doing other checks all the same.

Thus, the current instance of silliness that I was working with: rigging up a long-range scanner to search out and detect Warp activity of any kind. With luck, it should locate whatever was amplifying the local warp influence and acting as a relay for the tumors. Perhaps, even, it could help locate wherever it was that we actually reentered realspace proper…or if we even did so at all.

To that end, I had adapted one of the sensor designs used for long-range space probes into something that could work as a ground-based platform, and then loaded it with as much warp detection technology that I was currently aware of and could actually fit. Then, for good measure, I built two more, meant to be deployed in different areas on the Lunar Surface for a bit of triangulation.

Deploying them was going to be a different matter, though…unless…

"Oh. Yeah, that can work."

I'd need to wake up Mio, Though. No way in hell she would want to miss this, and she's better ant the protection blessings anyway…

---

"So. you want to modify the entire concept of the Operators to use as a kind of mobile platform for not only cleaning up Luna, but also deploying your new sensor arrays without losing time."

Mio, despite my misgivings, was not as annoyed as I'd expected at being awakened. Even better, she agreed with my sentiment that the tracking would be worth the effort, but also wanted to include dome deep space radar satellites out in the asteroid belt or on Mars or something, just in case. Designing them would be on her, by her own request.

But first, we were going to do the complete teardown and rebuild on the Operators as they were currently designed and envisioned.

"So, I take the AI systems, and you get the chassis?"

Mio pouted. "But I wanted to do the exterior stuff. Been a while since I designed a new servitor."

"And yet we are not designing servitors, but Operators." I joked back, laughter clear in my tone. "Besides, the whole gothic skull aesthetic is so overdone…"

Yes, we were back to bickering at each other again, even as we completely dissected an unused Operator for data and knowhow.

The frame was uninteresting except for the thruster jets and miniaturized (and thus low power) nullgrav tech, which could likely be scaled up to a great degree and used elsewhere. Power supply was meh, being little more than a battery pack inside the frame itself, despite the overall capacity. There was a bit of leeway with the normal Operator frame for modification, but for the most part it looked like the design was created more to be easy to manufacture and repair than for anything about proper usability.

And Mio still refused to let me win. "I still say we go with the heavier armor package and start adding all kinds of stuff to them. Doesn't have to be a Servo-skull, but it's skull something good."

"Sure, we can do that…for the fourth and fifth iterations, maybe." I fired back. "At least let's get the basics out of the way before we start overreaching, alright?"

"But we already know how to do this stuff! We can just use this to build the chassis we want now and not worry about the iteration process except to fix errors!"

The fact that Mio was winning this argument was annoying, but only just. Besides, she was missing the point.

"And where is the fun in that, honey? Is all you want to do just build things at the absolute best possible without any thought, or do you want to actually play with the technology a bit?"

"But getting the chassis out of the way lets me get to work on the interesting parts!!"

Yeah, we were going to be at this for a bit…

---

The argument was still ongoing, even after we had basically split the difference and just made separate prototypes for our specific systems and started playing with what we wanted. The gravity system was interesting to us both in many ways, especially because of its low power draw, and the thruster system that piggybacked onto it was something that I wanted to look at as well, as it was potentially a source of reactionless thrust, despite the current incarnation still needing an exhaust.

The part that we both tore into the hardest though was the AI system, or rather VI system considering how limited the systems were. Honestly, Morgan's upload tech was better overall.

None of this deterred us in the slightest in upgrading it to the gills and back and then some, along with adding in some things that we had been working on along the side.

Honestly, at this point we were doing it just because it was fun to poke at each other rather than anything like an actual disagreement.

Still, we had accomplished an objective of sorts and had reworked the technology within the operators into a system capable of seeking out and destroying any and all Typhon on the lunar surface, and even in some of the caverns below. The system itself was rather barebones by the standards we normally work with, being selected more for ease of use and construction rather than anything actually good, but the end result was still more than acceptable.

The final product was a departure from the standard Operator chassis, mostly because we had no need to use the flying suitcase look to make things work right. It bore some resemblance to the Tau drones in that they had a noticeable dome shape attached to them. The difference was in the addition of a second dome on the 'underside' of the frame itself, and that the domes were littered with varying maneuvering thrusters based on improvements to the original operator design.

That was about where the changes ended, though. The central body was a blocky thing, basically a square frame maybe an eighth again the size of the old suitcase setup, complete with better power systems and sensors. We'd left in the assistance modules from the other operator types, as well as a reworked version of the manipulator arms, which would allow for this type to assist any personnel it happened to find along the way if needed.

The big change, of course, was armament. We had taken one look at the laser system installed on the old 'security' operators and basically laughed, then gutted it and added in some real firepower. The new central array housed a small variant of the guardian laser with enough capacitors attached to make repeat firing not be a headache, and had an additional three 'pop-out' laser systems repurposed from the guardian scout's own weapon along each side, with full angles of attack along the axis that it covered. Mio had made a point of ensuring that the ventral laser ports could be used in forward attack as well, despite it not being needed in the slightest.

The final touch was to the command and control systems, with a link back to the central command post that we had set up and enough bandwidth to actually be worth the effort in doing so, as well. This allowed for the VI systems onboard to collect data from their encounters and adapt to the tactics shown by the Typhon as they progressed, which would be a plus. It also was a bit of an inoculation against a Technopath attack, as the remote connection could be used to regain control of the systems in the event of being compromised.

I, personally, had a silent chuckle at the fate of whatever stupid thing tried to backhack the new Operators to the source, thinking to take full control. All I'm saying is that it was not going to end well and that was it.

The finalization of the design let us move onwards to cranking out as many of the things as we wanted to use, which turned out to be a lot. Naturally we got tired of just tooling things by hand for no fucking reason after the first few hundred or so, (and we argued about it the whole time, of course) and after a bit of thought, we ended up repurposing some of the old operator dispensers for the task, though we had to modify the apertures to allow for the larger overall frame to exit properly.

Now, the Operators were busy sweeping the moon for any trace of Typhon materials and eradicating it as they came across it. Fortunately, the upgraded sensors included our customized versions of the psychoscope, which allowed for a lot of leeway in identifying actual Typhon instead of missing things.

This pushed us back to bickering more about the uses for the technology while finishing off the mini-spaceport that the Phoenix would be using once they got back in. of course, with both of us working at it, it took no time at all to complete, and more arguments ensued until we finally decided to just cut the crap and screwed each other silly like we'd actually wanted to do instead.

And I couldn't help but let the thought pass through my mind that for once, life was good.

It would not be even a week before I was cursing that statement.

---

In the depths of space, a ship crawled along, desperately clawing its way through the void. The hull showed clear signs of having only just barely escaped an absolute disaster of some epic proportions, and yet still the craft lumbered along purely on sublight power.

Within, the majority of the crew and it's altogether entirely too precious cargo were cradled inside emergency stasis, having locked themselves down in order to prevent any more disasters of the nature that had befallen them.

Unfortunately, the ship's Navigator was not one of those people. And the things he had seen coming from the place that he did were nothing short of terrifying in the extreme.

Entire planets outright eaten by the all-consuming cloud of locusts that feasted on any and all biomass that they could get their hands on, innumerable and completely unceasing in their assault. Worse, he could feel the sheer, ravening hunger coming from the mind of those beasts, the all-encompassing need to consume all life that was backed by an utterly alien will. It was all he could do to focus on the task ahead of him.

Fortunately, there was a small boon in this field: an unexpected wave of power coursing through the warp while they had still been within its depths had…changed him, somehow. No longer was his sight clouded and muddy, and no more did his third eye constantly bombard him with the horrors of the Immaterium that only he could see. Instead, it seemed as if his mind had expanded somehow, granting him clarity of both thought and sight within the warp, all the better to accomplish his grim task.

And it was a grim one indeed. It had seemed that, aside from whatever those things were that had consumed the worlds they had come from, the forces of chaos themselves were out in full force to make sure that even this one lonely ship never ever reached beyond to the greater galaxy. Entire shoals of energy blockaded their path forward within the warp, and the few paths that were available to move forward were choked with daemons awaiting the feast to come.

It had been a desperate struggle to break those lines, a battle unlike anything that he had seen before. Many of the fleet that had managed to escape with them had perished here, at this bulwark, and others still were cast adrift int the warp to be devoured and corrupted by the daemons at their leisure.

Only three ships remained, each one carrying the same precious cargo that the rest had died to defend. And even now he was not sure if the odd hunch he'd gotten had been proper to follow, as they trundled along…

Following this hunch gained from the altogether strange and yet familiar power that had freed him from the clutches of the warp's madness, he had directed the last ships towards an odd fluctuation within the empyrean that had then deposited them in this unknown section of realspace, and which had then just as swiftly sealed itself behind them, trapping them wherever they had been. There were no features or landmarks here, nothing at all except for the empty, cold black of space, with the exception of one direction, which they were now travelling towards: a single, ever brightening star that he felt would ultimately be their salvation.

The Navigator spared a thought for the rest of the crew as he piloted the ship on a course with its destiny. He, of course, would not survive to see the end of the journey, but with luck and, dare he say it, a bit of hope, his charges would.

Considering that they were all that remained of a proud and loyal culture that had nearly fallen to those damned locusts, that was all that he could ask.

From a place unknown, he felt the gentle caress of an equally gentle spirit, its very presence seeming to tell him that his sacrifice was both brave and just, and would not go unremembered.

He cared not for such things, though his weary soul eased at the insinuation that he still could save them.

Hopefully, wherever they ended up would be a better place for them all…

---

---

Okay, this chapter itself did not fight me so much as the outside perspectives did, and a lot of it had to do with my personal circumstances along with needing to deal with the particular brand of bullshittery that is the Eldar.

Worth noting that the story is going to slightly slow down from here, as we move into the second proper arc, mostly due to the background, and a bit more to give me a chance to adjust things around.


Oh yeah. Before I forget.
I do not want to hear a GOD DAMNED WORD About Marasin. AT ALL. You know who you are, and you know DAMN WELL why this is here.

DON'T.

In any case, please feel free to share your opinion, and thank you for reading.

Spoiler: Perks for the Chapter and a Note

Perks for this chapter are a bit unique, as I had my fellow writers Xolsis and Fourmyle (who is also my part-time editor and beta reader) roll some perks alongside my own. It's something of a tradition at this point to watch and laugh at the scaling power effect of some of the more broken perks when we do roll for them, and is a bit amusing on the discord.

In any case, the perks here are denoted by who rolled them among the three of us.

Me:
-One-Man Assembly Line (XCOM) (600CP)
You really liked playing with building blocks as a kid. Now that you're all grown up, the world is your playground. Your knowledge of construction and engineering is unprecedented, and making a jet engine from spare parts over a weekend is your idea of fun.
(A/N: Freebies for this jump will be collected later.)

-Notes of Thoth (Kane Chronicles) (400CP)
When Thoth, the god of writing, knowledge, and magic was young, he traveled to the far eaches of the Duat, researching the natures and mechanics of those regions, as well as the spirits and gods that called those places home. His field notes - and the many powers and dangerous spells that resulted from them, later became known as the Book of Thoth. By purchasing this, you gain a collection of his notes about the nature of gods, spirits, and other dimensions and planes of existence in this setting, which could be used to invent many of the spells the Book contained for yourself. Post-jump, these notes will update to include the local versions of such things in new settings.

Xolsis:
-Plowshares from Swords from Plowshares (Warhammer 40k - Squats) (100CP)
You might have noticed most of the best Squat vehicles and weapons are repurposed mining and industrial equipment. This is no accident, for not only do such things have to be tough, they are intimately familiar to operators and engineers alike. You have a particular genius for weaponizing civilian technology, and finding constructive industrial uses for weapons.

-Lost Art (Generic Video Game Developer) (600CP)
You are now an expert of the lost art, the art of code efficiency. Any code and software you make will now be far more efficient, using up far less resources for the same results and running significantly faster than most standard code. Your game would normally be 16GB and requires 8GB of RAM? Now it uses half that, at least. Game causing lag and crashing because too much is going on? Not anymore. Whatever you code, it'll run fast, and it'll run well.

Fourmyle:
-Blacksmithing: Zen Master (World of Warcraft) (300CP)
Smith various melee weapons, mail and plate armor, and other useful trade goods like skeleton keys, shieldspikes and weapon chains to prevent disarming. Blacksmiths can also make various stones to provide temporary physical buffs to weapons.
At this level you've mastered everything from basics to advanced. Additionally you've expanded your knowledge of the profession beyond the mastery of both basics and advanced stuff to complete understanding of it. At this level you're on an even playing field with the top 1% of your profession. Should you write down your knowledge it would easily be considered a work of art in that field.

-Master Smith | Ahzidal's Apprentice (Elder Scrolls Skyrim SB) (800CP)
Master Smith (400CP)
So, how many iron daggers did this take to get? Regardless of the answer to that question the results have surely shown themselves to you and everyone else. You're a master of smithing and the working of metal, forging weapons out of Glass and Ebony is well within your capacity, and even Daedric items may be forged with proper equipment and materials. Your craftsmanship is nothing less than perfection and your opportunity to grow is great as well. Given times you may yet forge tools, weapons and armor that rival even the likes of Daedric artifacts.
Ahzidal's Apprentice (400CP)
The art of spellcasting has more to it than just flinging fireballs and screaming about UNLIMITED POWER as one electrocutes their enemies. The arts of Enchantment and Alteration stand as testaments to this fact, enchantment in particular stands as a powerful, yet indirect system of magic and when it comes to this branch and the operation of it only the Dragon Priest Ahzidal is your equal. Like him you've collected vast knowledge pertaining to the various magical bases of the Mer, whether it be the ancient runes of the Ayleids or the process of harmonizing the seven natures of metal. This craft extends far and wide and with it even a mere band of 500 warriors could be given equipment powerful enough to fell a powerful race of spellcasters like the Falmer, or in other, more simple words your enchantments are legendary. You could perhaps go even further, runes are simply another language, and if understanding them allows you to use them, then perhaps even others like that of the Dovah might be as well. This is lore based Daedric artifacts which includes shit like instant kill weapons or key that can conceptually unlock anything. Or a sword that stole power from a daedra and flew a floating city of soul warriors into mundus. Pretty much all major Daedric artifacts are conceptual even if they are nerfed for the game.
(A/N: I am specifically Ignoring Freebies from this jumpdoc)

-Fingers of the North Star (Cave Story) (200CP)
You have a natural talent with machinery, and this extends to firearms creation. You can disassemble, analyze, and reassemble any projectile weapon you come across, and you have the ability to create unique, one of a kind guns that utilizes odd and esoteric technology. You also gain a free 'stamp' you can apply to any weapon you create, to show it's your work. Upgrading existing weapons is a breeze as well.

 

[souvikkundu]

Time twisted.

Time shifted.

Time was, and was not.

An eerie silver power flowed through Jaq, as though he had invoked it by those words. The power used his mind as its conductor. He sensed how the time stream itself was being negated and annulled.

Some psykers of the highest level could distort time thus. Not Jaq, hitherto.

Never Jaq.

Yet now...

Was he possessed?

By no daemon, certainly. But by the shining path itself. To his senses that path now appeared to be the track of a phosphorescent arrow through twisted geometries. The arrow had accumulated a charge at its point until that point could transfix the fabric of time itself, pinning time temporarily like a moth with a needle through its spine...

'Run, now!' cried Jaq.

Did he and his abnormal family flit like hummingbirds which seem to flicker directly from one point in space to another, passing in and out of existence? Afterwards Jaq believed they must have darted thus – across the static, time-stopped Chamber of Glory, past the frozen Companions, and through the Titan Archway between the motionless menacing colossi. And still the lustrous arrow impaled the tissue of time.

THROBBING PIPES RIBBED the walls of the vast throne room beyond. The muscles of the room were thick power cables feeding stegosaurian engines. The air was spiked with crisp ozone and bitter myrrh, and ointmented with balmy, somewhat greasy fragrances. The holiest battle banners, icons and golden fetishes flanked the arena of dedication where psykers were soul-bound. Squads of Emperor's Companions who guarded that vast hall, a mob of tech-priests ministering to the machinery, a gaudy Cardinal Palatinate and his entourage, a red-robed High Lord of Terra and his staff – not to mention great clusters of astropaths, chirurgeons, scholastics, battlemasters: all were motionless.

The immense, soaring, tube-ridged throne resembled some fossilised, metastasised sloth crafted by some mad master of the Adeptus Titanicus. And it seemed to Jaq, though he did not know whether what he saw was true, or mere delusion instilled by that same psyker-dream, that this enormous, sacred prosthetic device, more precious by far than any gold, framed the wizened, mummified face of the God-Emperor.

Who looked not; though he saw through eyes of the mind, saw far beyond his throne room and his palace and the solar system. Who breathed not; yet he lived more fiercely than any mortal, enduring a psychically supercharged life-in-death.

'WE ARE CURIOUS,' came a mighty, anguished thought which itself transcended time.

'WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR INTRUSION INTO OUR SANCTUARY, OUR ANTRUM AND ADYTUM.'

'My lord.' Jaq sank to his knees. 'I beg to report to you before I am destroyed. I may have uncovered a major conspiracy—'

'THEN WE WILL STRIP YOUR SOUL BARE. RELAX, MORTAL MAN, OR YOU WILL SURELY DIE IN SUCH PAIN AS WE ALWAYS ENDURE.'

Jaq breathed deeply, slowly, stilling the panic that fluttered under his ribs like a trapped bird. He surrendered himself. A hurricane roared through his mind.

If the story that he had thought to relate were a tangled forest – and if each event in that story were a tree – then within moments all the leaves were stripped away from all of the trees, denuding them to bare wintry twigs, to a raw basic life without the foliage of memories.

He was drained of his story; that was sucked from him in a trice, all of those leaves whirling into the mind-maw of the Master. Jaq gagged. Jaq drooled.

He was an imbecile, less than an imbecile.

He was less than a new-born baby.

He neither knew where he was, nor who he was – nor what it even meant to be a someone.

The inquisitor sprawled. All that was known to his body was distress, the gurglings of the guts, breath and light. Light from afar.

ABRUPTLY, ALL MEMORY flooded back. On that instant, each leaf sprouted anew to recloak the forest of his life. 'WE HAVE PUT BACK WHAT WE TOOK AND TASTED, INQUISITOR'

Trembling, Jaq regained his kneeling posture and wiped his lips and chin. The previous moments were a hideous limbo, unknowable, immeasurable. He was Jaq Draco again.

'WE ARE MANY, INQUISITOR.' The voice boomed in his mind almost gently – if gently was how an avalanche would sweep away a doomed village, if gently was how a scalpel might strip a life to the bare aching bones. 'HOW ELSE COULD WE ADMINISTER OUR IMPERIUM—'

'AS WELL AS WINNOW THE WARP—'

'HOW ELSE?'

The Emperor's mind-voice, if that truly was what it was, had dissociated into several voices, as if his great undying soul co-existed in fragments that barely hung together.

'SO DOES THE HYDRA THREATEN US?'

'IMPERILLING OUR GREAT AND AWFUL PLAN TO STEER HUMANITY?'

'DID WE OURSELVES DEVISE THE HYDRA?'

'PERHAPS IN A PART OF US, SINCE THIS HYDRA PROMISES A PATH?'

'SURELY A MALEVOLENT PATH; FOR HOW COULD HUMANITY EVER FREE ITSELF?'

'THEN WE MUST BE MALEVOLENT TOO. FOR WE HAVE EXPELLED OUR SENTIMENTALITY LONG AGO. HOW ELSE COULD WE HAVE ENDURED? HOW ELSE COULD WE HAVE IMPOSED OUR RULE?'

'YET BY VIRTUE OF THAT WE ARE PURE AND UNCONTAMINATED BY WEAKNESS. WE ARE GRIM SALVATION.'

Beside Jaq, the squat twitched as if he had heard himself named. At that moment did the voice resonate within the abhuman? Jaq felt that he was listening to a mighty mind-machine argue with itself in a way that no Imperial courtier had perhaps ever heard, and that no High Lord of Terra even suspected could occur. Were Meh'Lindi and Googol aware of the voices in the way that Jaq was? Or was he imagining it all, caught up in some warp-spawned delusion, yet another twist in this labyrinthine conspiracy? He sensed the fabric of time attempting to tear free, and guessed that not much longer of this strange stasis remained.

'NOTHING THAT SAFEGUARDS HUMANITY CAN BE EVIL, NOT EVEN THE MOST STRENUOUS INHUMANITY. IF THE HUMAN RACE FAILS, IT HAS FAILED FOREVER.'

Maybe Jaq was too young by hundreds, by thousands of years, and his intellect too puny to comprehend the multiplex mind of the master who was forever on overview, whose thoughts battered in his mind. Or maybe the master's mind had become chaotic. Not warped by the Ruinous Powers it surveyed, oh no, but divided amongst itself as its heroic grasp on existence ever so slowly weakened...

'WHEN WE CONFRONTED THE CORRUPTED, HOMICIDAL HORUS WHO ONCE USED TO SHINE LIKE THE BRIGHTEST STAR, WHO USED TO BE OUR BELOVED FAVOURITE – WHEN THE FATE OF THE GALAXY HUNG BY A THREAD – WERE WE NOT COMPELLED TO EXPEL ALL COMPASSION? ALL LOVE? ALL JOY? THOSE WENT AWAY. HOW ELSE COULD WE HAVE ARMOURED OURSELVES? EXISTENCE IS TORMENT, A TORMENT THAT MUST NOURISH US. EVIDENTLY WE MUST STRIVE TO BE THE FIERCE REDEEMER OF MAN, YET WHAT WILL REDEEM US?'

'Great lord of all,' whimpered Jaq, 'did you know of the hydra before now?'

'NO, AND WE SHALL SURELY ACT IN DUE TIME—'

'YET SURELY WE KNEW. HOW COULD WE NOT KNOW?'

'ONCE WE HAVE ANALYSED THE INFORMATION WITHIN THIS SUB-MIND OF OURS.'

'HEAR THIS, JAQ DRACO: ONLY TINY PORTIONS OF US CAN HEED YOU, OTHERWISE WE NEGLECT OUR IMPERIUM, OF WHICH OUR SCRUTINY MUST NOT FALTER FOR AN INSTANT. FOR TIME DOES NOT HALT EVERYWHERE WITHIN THE REALM OF MAN. INDEED TIME ONLY HALTS FOR YOU.'

'WE ARE AN EVER-WATCHFUL LORD, ARE WE NOT? DID YOU HOPE TO GAIN OUR UNDIVIDED ATTENTION?'

'HOW ELSE SHOULD WE SOUL-BIND PSYKERS AND OVERVIEW THE WARP AND BEAM THE ASTRONOMICAN BEACON AND SURVIVE AND RECEIVE INFORMATION AND GRANT AUDIENCES ALL AT ONCE, UNLESS WE ARE MANY?'

'AND YET STILL WE MISS SO MUCH, SO VERY MUCH? SUCH AS THAT WHICH GUIDED YOU HERE.'

'OUR SPIRIT GUIDED YOU.'

'NO: ANOTHER SPIRIT, A REFLECTION OF OUR GOODNESS WHICH WE THRUST FROM US.'

'WE ARE THE ONLY SOURCE OF GOODNESS, SEVERE AND DRASTIC. THERE IS NO OTHER SOURCE OF HOPE THAN US. WE ARE AGONISINGLY ALONE.'

Contradictions! These warred in Jaq's mind just as they seemed to coexist in the Emperor's own multimind. Was another power for salvation present in the galaxy, unknown to the suffering Emperor – concealed from him, though somehow partaking of his essence? How could that be?

And what of the hydra? Did the Emperor truly know of it or not – even now? Might he refuse to acknowledge what Jaq had reported to him?

The Emperor's voices faded from Jaq's mind as time tried to stretch back into shape. Grimm tugged at Jaq's sleeve.

 

[Frescko]

In a long forgotten sector of the Segmentum Obscurus there lies Planet Wide Nexus of the Darkside of the Force.

On this planet lays ancient ruins destroyed not solely by time but also war. Only the hardiest of plant life has barely eeked out an existence, but a singular bad season could kill even the most lively of plants.

in a cave on this dead world, two small brilliant suns shown in defiance, upon closer inspection one would realize these where not suns, but eyes.

gleaming a malevolent yellow even though the cracked lenses of a Venerable Dreadnaught stood Rylanor the Ancient of Rites. Rage and Hate wafts around him, only held back by unyielding Pride and Honor.

for the first time in Ten Millennia they spoke.

"I'M COMING FOR YOU FULGRIM" it whispered, and the world shook with power. Rylanor's Rage and Pain granting his newfound powers near endless strength.

—

"Log GFX-1 the average human has around 2500 of these microscopic life-forms per cell, attempts to artificially induce a increase has resulted in extreme rejection and even death"

"Log GFX-6 further research indicates that these M-IDIs may posses Sentients, and are not Symbiotic as first theorized"

"Log GFX-8 Examination of Epsilon and Delta Psykers indicate that M-IDI Count increase dependent on Psychic potential. Unknown if Rubric Marines gained M-IDIs"

"Log GFX-9 Examination of Blanks… it's hard to describe what I saw. To put it in summary, the M-IDIs where "inside out", beyond that none of my current understanding of biological and alchemy can explain what I saw. Further Research needed"

"Log GFX-15 The M-IDIs are fighting back, it has Manipulated Clones into destroying important work for the New Man project. But I am hopeful as during the chaos a sample of M-IDIs fell into a Sample of The Blight and seems to counteract it"

"Log GFX-19 I was wrong. It seems I was manipulated by the M-IDIs they seem to have some sort of probability manipulation, not absolute but can "nudge" things into playing out however it Wants"

—

Ahriman sat in meditation, thinking over all his current knowledge of the black library, that is before he felt a all powerful force wrap around him before he could even defend against it.

quickly casting dozens of spells to analyze what happened came up with worrying knowledge, and perhaps more importantly what seemed to Be a path of being his own master free from Tzeentch's clutches for for nothing in return except to fight against his slaver's rule.

It was a Deal too good to be true, yet in the pit of his stomach he knew it was the best choice? Or was it? But the last time he didn't think logically and acted on emotions… he need to research this before he accepted the power, yet he must not let his slaver know that he knows that they know- spiraling that's what it wants you to do, to get lost in schemes like the Alpha Legion.

carefully ever so carefully he touched this new pool of power and slowly ever so slowly tested the waters as the saying goes… and it's promising, he's free of the slaver's gifts- no it's still another master, one that may not be malevolent and scheming like a hydra mimicking an ouroboros eating it's infinite tails with its infinite heads, but this new master if he accepts is subtle, quite and all encompassing… yet not absolute it's chains are far easier to break then Tzeentch's… good so very good.

 

[Slider Zero]

Across the Imperium, things had been in a state of rapid flux since the assault on the planet of Necromunda, so very close to Holy Terra. The most noticeable of these changes was a massive and undeniable awakening of some kind involving psykers and related powers across all of humanity, which also had the strange effect of tossing otherwise hidden subversive elements into the light of the Emperor, that they may be cleansed and granted His Mercy. Yet more found themselves inexplicably made more by the second portion of this strange phenomenon, a trait that seemed to be simultaneously the blessing of the Emperor himself and an awakening of the inner talents of the wielder.

However, there were also other events transpiring out of the public eye. Events that could, and very likely would, shake the very imperium itself with the implications.

Such was the case of a certain Magos of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

The revelation of a massive find on Necromunda in the form of a Holy STC had shaken the Mechanicus to the core, and had launched possibly the single greatest operation undertaken by the Mechanicus as a whole since the close of the Horus Heresy. The massive undertaking to secure such a find was arguably what had ultimately caused the creation of the warp storm that currently shrouded Necromunda even now.

However, it was the even greater revelation that not only had the STC been recovered, with minimal damage to both the hardware and the precious data within, but that a second, significantly more advanced STC, this one complete(!!!), had been delivered to them by the Custodes as a result of their own undertakings…

Truly, it was the greatest of days within the Mechanicus.

It was even more so for the Ancient Archmagos Biologis known as Belisarius Cawl, for within these STC lay the keys to not only complete his grand work, but to improve upon it even further than he had imagined.

And to think, that the knowledge contained within was not only being archived on Mars, as it should be, but also surreptitiously spread across the galaxy to other Forge Worlds as quickly as the signal could be transmitted via the Mechanicus' special communications relays. Cawl could only smile in glee and triumph.

Even now, the knowledge within was being used to perform complete overhauls and rebuilds of entire forges on the martian surface and even below, as the Mechanicus worked to return themselves to proper compliance. From what he had heard, even the Golden Throne itself was being attended to by the most trusted of Archmagos, long-needed repairs and maintenance being performed now that the knowledge of how to do so was within their grasp.

And the forges themselves were not idle. New patterns of weaponry were rolling off the assembly lines as quickly as they could be manufactured, each one seemingly more deadly than the last, and matched only by the other wargear rolling off of the lines as fast as they could be pushed.

The dawn of a new age for mankind had come at last. Now, all that remained was to finish his work, so that the guardians of this age could take their proper place…

The Primaris Project had been a work of nearly ten thousand years on his part, an undertaking vast and incredible by all accounts for any of the Mechanicus, let alone one such as he. And yet he had persevered, for the work was far too important to be left incomplete.

And now, he had the tools that he had only wished he could have had before he had begun the work, all delivered to him by the providence of the Omnissiah himself. For this, he would offer his thanks.

The new tools had massively accelerated his timetables, even as they allowed for incredible refinements to the new Primaris Gene Seed and the methods of expression. The improved Primaris Marines would be even stronger than ever, many of them exhibiting variants of the traits of the Primarchs that the gene seed was based upon.

For some, this was a boon beyond price, and a thing to be celebrated for all. However, for others…there were checks put into place for those yet Loyal Chapters who were descended from a traitor Primarch. All checks came back not only clear, but pristine, as if the Emperor himself had reached a hand into the final process of the making. Even now, as he did the final checks of his work, he could see the changes wrought by the hand and power of the Emperor of Mankind, as expressed through the recent waves of energy flowing through the Astronomican. The gene seed was somehow strengthening itself, refining out the would-be imperfections and impurities, even as it carried a power that could only have come from the Emperor's own hand.

It was truly a sight to behold, even to his ancient eyes.

And the weapons that these new champions would carry would be even more devastating, as would be their armor and equipment…all thanks to the newly discovered STC.

Cawl Allowed himself a moment to reflect upon the greatness of the Emperor's work and of Humanity as a whole, before returning to his task.

After all, there was now plenty of time to produce even more geneseed for the birth of the Primaris Marines…

---

Alaya found herself in a bit of a quandary with regard to dealing with the thing that was referred to as the God-Emperor of Mankind. Mainly, it had to do with the fact that the bastard was stuck in his seat, holding back all manner of horrors from engulfing Terra as a result of the fallout of his own hubris and pride.

Unfortunately, this left her in a bit of a bind, as simply leaving the home planet of Humanity to be devoured by the swarm of daemons that even now tried to push through the gates of what was meant to be the Human Webway was unacceptable, regardless of the fact that the newly awakened and enhanced Custodes were more than capable of the task of holding the line. It was just not something she would allow.

The second problem was related to the first: Humanity relied almost entirely upon the Astronomican to guide their way through the warp as a means of interstellar travel, and removing the God-Emperor thing from the chair would only serve to extinguish that light, which, along with removing the polestar for all those yet within the warp itself, would just as easily remove the subtle protection that the Astronomican projected across the Imperium proper. And this was without getting into the issues of what it would take to attend to the swirling mass of hatred and malice that had been festering within the corpse of what should have been a perpetual being.

The Astronomican issue was…technically fixable, but it would basically be forcing her children into an age without the light of their Emperor to guide them. And as much as she had faith in Humanity as a whole to survive and even thrive in these circumstances, the death toll for doing such a thing would be catastrophic.

On a galactic scale.

As such, she was hunting for alternatives to just turning the lights out and forcing everyone to adapt, despite the fact that they had the means to do so. There was no need to add more randomness and insanity to the galaxy just because she was impatient.

Basically, for all that the fucker needed exactly what she had delivered to him as quickly as possible, the second-order effects were proving annoying to deal with. Under normal circumstances she would simply reach into the Throne of Heroes and summon out one of her Counter Guardians to hold the line while she fixed things, but that option was beyond her, simply because in this world the Throne of Heroes was bereft of any and all who would answer the call.

She was sorely tempted to call back her Father from the odd little rift that he had fallen into, that he might work his own magic upon the situation, but that was a last resort. As it stood now, she could maintain the current status quo more or less indefinitely without issue, and most importantly without the sacrifices of psykers daily, which was a far cry from the constantly failing mess that the Corpse had been set up in.

Alaya could not help but pout. There was at least one semi ready-made solution, but she could not implement it because the damned shards of the fool's souls were spread far and wide across the galaxy, many of them within or a part of the souls of those fallen to his enemies, no less. The few that were available right now were nowhere near enough to actually do anything but be drained to a husk by the monstrous machine that kept so much of the Imperium running…

A strange feeling caught her attention. It was faint, as if only just awakening from slumber, but she recognized it all the same: there was yet a Heroic Spirit within the material world, and they had answered her demand for a solution to her problems with their awakening. Though…

Alaya found herself extremely curious as to who, exactly, this spirit could have been to have survived the purge of the history of man and the effective deletion of the heroes associated with mankind's mythos. It would have taken something that was charged not just with a singular culture's worth of myth, but the sum total of humanit–

A flash of realization struck her, and she found herself suddenly smiling wildly at the implications.

Oh, yes, that one would do juuust fine.

She took a brief moment to grant her pity to the enemies of this last Heroic Spirit. They had no clue what was coming their way…

---

It was now day five of our lunar sojourn, and things had changed drastically around the base as we moved to adjust them to our liking. The place now had a much more homey air to it, instead of the faux-cheerful corporate bullshit that was the previous branding. Many of the base's utilities and core infrastructure had been upgraded to standards that were "appropriate for a Magos' work environment" according to Mio.

As a result, the two of us had finally gotten around to actually getting back into the Hangar to check on things inside, especially as there were no longer any Typhon around to potentially sneak in.

And what they had found inside was…actually kind of weird.

For one, there were several notable additions to the equipment present in the Hangar proper, including several oddball setups that I had no clue what the hell were supposed to be. Another thing was that the new stuff was just kind of strewn all over the place without any real rhyme or reason to it, almost like it had been chucked inside in haste as things were going down.

And then there was the rift in space that was just kind of there.

"...I am assuming that the spatial rift leads to where Thoth's notes hit the Hangar." Mio's tone was drier than the Sahara, and I could tell without looking that her expression was just as flat.

I could only nod my head. The damage to the local space looked like it would resolve itself into something appropriate in due time, but for now it was a bit of an eyesore. I made a mental note to check it out after reorganizing the rest of the mess. And it was a right fine mess, too.

There was an entire section over near the workshops that had been hastily kitted out as a form of gantry for what could only be described as a steampunk power armor of some kind. I recognized it as the most basic possible form of the Magic Gear, or madogear as they were generally referred to in their origin land. Honestly, the concept was interesting to me mostly because it was completely based on mechanical knowledge and a bit of magic engineering to make it work properly, which was definitely a plus with anyone who wanted to delve into the concepts.

The other messes aware a bit more annoying, though. One was a giant pile of mixed parts, technical manuals, and other related gear haphazardly strewn into a corner with no real rhyme or reason to them whatsoever, and which would require some significant sorting out to actually figure out what went where and why. Then there was the odd (and noticeably neater) pile of equipment that looked to be related to chemistry in some way or another, though one of us would need to check to be sure.

And then there was the other elephant in the room, namely the odd cottage-thing that seemed rather eager to be used and was absolutely thrumming with power to my senses. Worse, I thought I actually recognized the general shape and purpose of that one, too.

The problem, of course, was that, like everything else, it was sitting practically dead center of the mess that had sprawled out in the hangar proper. I couldn't help but sigh out loud at the thought of the amount of effort that we would need to put in to get the place back in order, and that was before we went and took a look at whatever mess Thoth's notes had taken the form of.

I motioned to the mess. "So, before we get started, anything you have to say about this?"

Mio rightfully gave me a gimlet glare at my bland attempt at humor.

---

Cleanup was tedious and annoying. As it turned out, the notes crashing into the hangar had dislodged a bunch of other things from their proper places and left even more messes for us to clean up before we even got to properly sorting out the other stuff. I was honestly surprised that the place was still intact, considering what some of the mixtures and materials were capable of when mishandled.

Still, the (initial) cleanup had been completed within mostly decent time, which left us sorting through the mess of junk and materials that had been strewn about. And for the life of me I could not find a clear pattern to any of it.

"So...this is supposed to be some kind of advanced computer terminal? Why does it still use tape drives?" Mio grumbled from her section of the pile. I could only grunt in agreement, as I was thinking the same thing. Some of this stuff looked to be from some kind of retro-futureish setup that would not have looked out of place in an 80s anime. Worse, it was mixed in with other stuff that I swore up and down came from an outright galactic civilization of some kind. And worse, this stuff was old. I was getting a good but of impressions from handling the pieces, and what it told me of what could have been done with them was considerable.

Too bad that it was all junk parts. We would be better served recycling everything here, honestly…that, or feeding it to the resource warehouse to get better stuff out of it.

Either way, after the hours of cleanup for the minor crap (and logging the technical manuals that had been present into the electronic database) we could finally get around to dealing with the cottage of doom.

Said cottage of doom was, actually, nothing like what either of us expected. Inside was a complex amalgam of pipes, pathways, and other assorted engines of early industry all arranged around a central core structure of sorts that seemed to be the main focus of the place. Even a cursory glance told me that the arrangement of everything was very much slapdash and 'where it will work' than anything actually planned out, which may have had something to do with potential efficiency issues…though something told me that things were fine as they were.

Instead, I walked towards the obvious central station of the assembly, vague memories of those who came before telling me of the intended purpose of the place. And honestly? I couldn't be happier.

After all, this was an Alchemical setup pulled pretty much straight from the dawn of industry proper.

"I see you plotting over there, mister. Tell me, what is this?" Mio asked, the curiosity clear in her tone. I was actually surprised that she didn't just plumb my mind for the details–oh. She wanted to hear my voice.

Very well, I could accommodate her on this. "If what I'm thinking is correct, this setup here is a complex alchemical cauldron of the kind used in the Kingdom of Arland. This, along with a bit of experimentation and some know-how, will allow us to perform rather complex alchemy as we see fit for little cost to us. Hell, I think that we might be able to refine the setup even further than this if we choose to, and possibly integrate it into some of the other stuff as well."

Mio perked up noticeably. "What kind of alchemy are we talking about here? The old pseudo-science stuff that predated proper chemistry? The quasi-magical crap that gets thrown around as an alternative to proper magic (and that I am sure we have some notes for that somewhere around here)? Or is this something else entirely?"

I chuckled. "Alchemy of this nature is more akin to a science in its own right than anything else. It's more a form of natural magic that is not dissimilar to chemistry than anything else." I ran a hand over the various pipes of the system, the functions becoming clear to my mind's eye. "Honestly, this is technically better than proper chemistry in many ways, as you can mix and combine things that would otherwise not be possible using this setup, and all for a little bit of ambient mana from the environment, no less."

Mio hmmed to herself, leaning into my shoulder. "Which means that a few of the alloy composite projects I have been working on might be better solved in here, then?"

I cradled her with a free arm. "But of course. Who knows, We might be able to come up with even more insane super-materials just because."

Oh yes…we had a lot of work cut out for us.

---

The knowledge of having a blatantly powerful alchemy system like the cottage setup (which a late report from Watts confirmed was from a variant of what I would recognize as an Atelier game) caused us to reconsider certain things within our inventory as far as special materials. For one, we suddenly had theoretical access to a lot of otherwise special materials and substances that required some very specific manufacturing processes to properly form, like the various versions of Adamantium used in Astartes and Custodes Power Armors. This was even more important because the Resource Generator was oddly specific about what it did and did not have available at any one time, and most of the really good stuff took too long to generate in any usable quantities. This would help to alleviate that a fair bit.

Second, there was suddenly a whole heaping subsection of goodies and substances that could be formed for use by others or even ourselves. One thing I do remember is that most Atelier games had you start out with mere potions and other simple things like that, so the possibilities were effectively endless if we went in on it.

The third was a mixture of the first two: with the ability to mix and match the way that alchemy allowed, there was the possibility of being able to create potential supermaterials based on the properties of things that had been blended. And this style of alchemy was notorious about being extremely friendly with using quasi-conceptual ingredients with ease.

I strongly suspected that this would be a very popular location for not only us, but the Kerbals as well once they got back, if only so that everyone could experiment to see what they came up with. It also was the reason I was currently in the secure storage section for volatile materials, looking over the various special substances that were currently in stock and ready to use.

And the dread material Originium stared me in the face.

I had sealed the stuff away for good reason. Even though it was an awesome energy source and actually a damn good conduit for various forms of 'physical' energy, the stuff was downright virulent if left uncontained in any capacity. Granted, there was a very blatant note with this batch (that even now was flashing in my vision because shenanigans) about this particular batch and the future replacement batches being perfectly safe to both handle and use, but…you do not shake the wariness. Not after being burned as hard as I was.

I had nearly been killed by this stuff once. I was not about to give it anything less than the utmost in respect.

That being said, it was also a prime material for use in any form of synthesis mixing that I wanted to do, simply because the potential payoff of such a mix was incalculable. Of course, if I wanted to be fair, the potential horror factor of a mix would be equally possible, and I had already noted that this stuff was very similar to Tiberium in many ways…

In any case, a more thorough examination of the substance was now in order, if only to assess suitability for use later. Especially because one of my new knowledge sets was getting accessed by a magical auto-index ability I had picked up during the mess onboard Talos and was pointing out that, treated properly, Orginium would make for a superior base material for a synthetic Khyber…Crystal…

Oh fuck. THAT'S what those spare parts were about.

Revelation of my knowledge of the technology of a certain galaxy far, far away aside, It was still a good idea to do a better lookup on the stuff. And on myself, now that I thought about it, as my 'cure' for Oripathy was more akin to a compromise with the inevitable than anything else. Needed to make sure that it would not cause complications later on.

Grabbing one of the cases with a bundle of the stuff, I headed for the infirmary.

---

"So, why the sudden interest in our health? Discover something that might be abnormal about things?"

Mio was currently setting up a deep scan for her beloved in order to gain a better picture of the effects of recent events on his body. She personally suspected it also had something to do with the case of originium that he had brought along (which was currently being scanned by another device nearby), but for now refrained from plumbing his mind for the answer, as was her usual custom.

"I wanted to check something out that occurred to me while I was grabbing stuff to play around with mixing." Satori replied. "I was wanting to get a second opinion on that fix I implemented for my oripathy, for one. Also would be nice to get a new medical baseline for records purposes and such before I accidentally mix up a Super Soldier Serum or something…"

Mio giggled at his antics, but finished the setup process and stepped back from the bed that Satori was currently lying on. "Alright, everything is ready. Anything I should be looking for?"

Satori shrugged. "Dunno what we're supposed to find, but here's hoping it's good. Impeller coming down…and ready for scan."

"Scan Initialized." Mio replied. And watched as the data flowed in…huh. That was interesting.

"...I think we should have done this a lot sooner. I'm seeing things that I never thought possible, really."

Satori blinked in confusion, and seemed to do a minor shrug from his position on the bed. It wasn't enough to disrupt the scanners, but from what she knew of the tech (which honestly needed an upgrade) it was a near thing. "So…I take it you are seeing something that is outside the norm, then?"

Mio allowed a small hum of assent, everything else being totally engrossed in the data. "Yeah. There's a lot of stuff here that I wasn't expecting to see, especially since our respective core partners tend to keep us in mostly good shape." She took a moment to pull up another screen with even more data on it. "This, however, is a pretty good set of new baselines for how much you've changed from the standard Human template…which is interesting because it means that the database still recognizing you as being Homo Sapiens."

She heard her husband's light chuckle. "Just not with the extra Sapiens part, eh?"

"Something like that." Mio replied, still buried in the data. "The reason why this is odd, though, is that most of the human…err, mutative archetypes…" She barely suppressed a wince at the statement, but pressed forward anyway, "are usually noted as an entirely new subgenus of the Homo line. For example, The Space Marines are officially recognized as Homo Astartes. This here…this has implications that go a bit beyond what I want to think about right now."

She decided to shift tacks from the uncomfortable topic for now. "But there are other things that i'm getting as well. The scan is noting the originium in your blood and tissues rather clearly, and even noting the patterns it's taking, mostly being guided by your nanites. The structures and support forms are rather extraordinary. I am noticing that the originium itself seems to be sticking to your bones for the most part, though, except for some very specific concentrations around critical organs and such. Honestly, looking at it now, I don't think anyone who doesn't have some kind of adaptive nanite system like the type we share could actually survive this level of…infection is the only real word I can use, here."

"For that matter, even the nanites are modifying themselves as we speak." Mio pulled up yet another window, overlapping with the rest seamlessly. Hard-light and holograms can be fun, sometimes. "I'm seeing a lot of really odd purpose-built modifications here. Some of these nanites are closer to actual biological cells than anything actually machine at this point, while others are pushing closer to the other end. And all of them seem to be adapting to handling different energies and then fusing them into a whole. These ones here," She shoved a screen in Satori's face, so that he could see for himself, "are adapting to your chakra, for example. And then these over here are working with your ambient mana, and so on."

"And then there's the batch that is sitting in your head and running your rather vastly improved brain meats. The nanites here are arguably the most complex, but the changes…some of these are super recent." Mio frowned for a bit, scrutinizing the data before her. "I think that this might be an adaptation to our recent psionic power boost, but I'd have to give it a better look to be sure. Right now, I can only say that these particular nanites are changing themselves in a unique manner compared to the rest."

Mio sighed. "And that's not counting the other stuff that are side effects of having energies like chakra in the body. Your microbiome is changing up a bit as well, what with the new critters floating around in your bloodstream. They seem to be feeding off of at least one energy source, but I can't say which one. They are actually kind of beneficial, now that I'm looking at it."

She felt more than saw Satori's attention focus at the mention of the new organisms, and shifted his screen to show him the details. As she expected, it was but a moment before he seemed to recognize the phenomenon.

Satori began to chuckle softly. "Heh. Guess the old theories about the Force and how it works are holding up a bit." a minor poke through their link directed her attention to the organisms in more detail. "These here? They are known as midichlorians, and they are one of the most surefire ways to detect a Force sensitive individual. There was a theory that they themselves were an origin point for the Force proper, but I am rather glad to see that this is not the case here. Instead, I think that they are feeding on the ambient energy aura that results from my connection to the Force. Of course, the actual side effects of having a new piece of fauna attached to a microbiome is something to study, but for now it's harmless."

Satori levered himself off of the exam table and began to stretch a little, which, as much as she appreciated it, was totally unnecessary except to show off. "Alrighty then, you wanna take a look at the data here, first, or get your own exam in beforehand?

Mio stopped to consider it. "Well, I–"

Their intended conversation was interrupted by the sudden chiming of an alarm, signalling that the deep-scan on the originium itself had completed. Both of them rushed to the station involved, and quickly began to peruse the results.

"...okay, this stuff is actually a lot more dangerous than I thought it was, and yet also far, far less, which is kind of weird."

Mio found herself agreeing wholeheartedly. Satori had told her little of his fears regarding the strange material, aside from a vague reference to a similar mineral that was supposedly even more dangerous, but she'd had plenty of time to gather intel and make her own judgements. And she prayed to the Omnissiah that she never, ever ran into this "Tiberium" substance under any circumstances whatsoever.

Originuim, though? For all of its similarities to the demon mineral, it was actually quite useful when properly managed. Hell, the fact that it could even be properly managed in the first place was nearly a miracle, especially seeing as how it took extended exposure to the stuff in order to actually contract oripathy in any form whatsoever, unlike this tiberium material.

The mineral was also both highly energetic and an oddly powerful focus for quasi-mystical energies of most types, which is probably where the original practitioners for the various originium arts began, at least before the skills themselves became more innate to the users as a variant of inner energy. Still, the results were promising for many things, including potential refinements and mixing.

A crash echoed from outside the Hangar, catching their attention and breaking the moment of discovery. It was actually quite curious as to what the cause was, as by all rights they should be the only things alive on Luna.

And yet…beyond the door back into the wider world, she could feel…life? Something that shone brightly to her senses, now that she was even remotely aware of it. And it felt both oddly comforting and strangely…mischievous?

It took even less time for the two of them to exit the hangar's space and return back to the moonbase proper…and the sight was extremely confusing. There were bunches of what appeared to be little girls in themed maid outfits actively cleaning up the few messes that they had avoided dealing with, along with some actively hanging extra decorations and what she found to be some rather tasteful, if amateurish, art. There was even a trio in the makeshift kitchen area, which had been the source of the noise they'd heard.

Overall, she could count at least thirty of these creatures (and she somehow knew they weren't human, even without a scan of any kind) within their erstwhile home. And every last one of them stopped cold the instant they stepped back into the base, each staring at them with looks that ranged from anxious interest to barely suppressed panic.

Despite herself, Mio felt the sudden need to crack a joke.

"So…guests, then?"

---

Mio may not have known what was going on, but I was entirely too much of a nerd to have missed the hint, and this just so happened to be one of my fandoms.

Though, why the hell the base formerly known as Pytheas (rename pending) was now full of…moon fairies? (one of the fairies nodded an affirmative at the thought. I very deliberately did not question it) Yeah, moon fairies doing here, not necessarily on the moon, but inside of my goddamn base?

Mio's attempt at humor did very little to defuse the tension in the room.

Guess I had to do something after all. "Alright, which one of your girls is in charge of your group? Need to get some things cleared up real quick."

A series of quick glances among the fairies told me much, but just as quickly one of the kitchen team stepped forward. "I'm Elizabeth, and I guess you could say I'm the closest thing to being the leader of these guys here. As for why…well…we felt you nearby, and were curious. Past that? It's just fun."

I quirked an eyebrow. "But…why the maid outfits? I appreciate the help and all, but it's not like I actually asked, and this is certainly not a paid job."

Elizabeth shrugged, and I distinctly heard a few of the fairies giggling to themselves. "Well, we kind of decided on our own that you are now the boss, so here we are. Besides, not all of us are from around here. A few of the girls came up from Earth too, just to hang around, and we've just kinda ran with it, yannow?"

Elizabeth did a midair curtsy to me, and many of the others followed suit. "So, boss. Whatcha need next?"

"Aside from a better explanation?" the flatness of my look was nearly legendary, and poor Liz folded like a house of cards.

"Alright, alright!! You two are radiating this really, really good energy, and it feels awesome to be around you, almost like you are a walking extension of nature or something."

My look increased in severity.

"...and…you might, maybe kind of haveavisitorcomingsoon–"

"Alright, stop. I think I got it now." and I really did, as odd as it sounded.

Liz wasn't lying about the whole 'feels like nature' thing. I could tell just from a quick peek into the girls' heads, which rather unusually for another thinking being, were completely and utterly defenseless to my gaze, and intentionally so. The amount of trust these fairies were willing to just outright hand to me was kind of ridiculous, but I could ask further questions later on.

No, right now, I had to worry about the visitors that were scheduled to show up soon. And considering the source of the fairies, I had a suspicion I was about to get trolled.

"Close, but not really. I'm just a taxi this time."

I only barely did not startle at the sudden appearance of our newest occupant, who was, as per her usual custom, hanging out of one of her gaps. Mio, on the other hand, had already tried (and failed) at least three times in that same instant to eliminate the surprise element, to no success.

Sorry Mio, but Yukari Yakumo actually is that good, and likes to be a nuisance. We are not getting rid of her that easily.

I turned to the trolling yokai with as neutral of an expression as I could manage given the circumstances. "And what, exactly, are you playing taxi for, especially considering that getting here must be annoyingly like actual work for you?"

Yukari giggled. Like, an actual, literal giggle. "Oh, just someone who was interested in meeting you regarding that interesting little ability of yours. She should be arriving shortly."

By which she meant that my newest guest was being delayed for drama factor, because Yukari worked like that. I merely gave a slight nod and moved to one of the refurbished couches in the lounge, taking a seat. Mio, despite her visible confusion, followed my lead. One of the fairies quickly moved to deliver drinks (tea, unsurprisingly, but the variety was unfamiliar to me) to everyone present.

And then I received the second shock of the day when none other than Eirin Yagokoro walked through a gap and took a seat opposite my wife and I, the table holding our refreshments rather suddenly upgrading itself properly and a seat appearing from nowhere as if it always belonged.

Despite this, I (somehow) visibly showed no reaction aside from a quirked eyebrow, which I muted slightly by taking a sip of the tea. (Odd flavor, but actually kind of good, though it was nothing I'd ever had before. I'd probably have to pester the fairies for the recipe. Mio seemed to like it too, from her mood suddenly improving.)

Knowing of Eirin and her perception, she was likely not fooled, but at least allowed me the pretense of being unruffled by events, for which I was silently grateful.

"I will open, then. I've decided to have a quick chat with you regarding a few things before that forge of yours ticks over again." Eirin began. "It's just a few questions in regard to what, exactly, you plan on doing with your abilities."

I nodded. That seemed fair enough, and I had a suspicion of what was coming down the pipe that she felt the need to appear personally. "Alright. And your questions…?"

Eirin smirked. It wasn't a malicious thing, but the triumph was clear to see in her bearing. "Oh, you have already answered them, really. Amazing what a little medicine can do when prepared correctly, yes?"

I blinked, wondering about what the hell she was on about…and then looked down at the fucking tea. Because of course she would use that as a vector for whatever the fuck she was doing.

And yet I still felt strangely calm about the whole matter. I ascribed it to whatever the tea had in it.

"I do apologize for the deception, especially with me abusing guest privilege, but it was kind of necessary for my little prank here. The medicine I mixed into your tea was a little something that should help you adjust to that interesting mineral you have trying to devour your body, along with a few things that would let me see your general intention. Nothing too harsh, overall."

A massive block of knowledge hit me just then, and with it came a great deal of understanding of what had just happened. Eirin was not lying in the slightest about the medicine's effects, though she had omitted that there was a conditional element to it that would have reacted…poorly if I had been tainted in any way by Chaos or similar.

It would seem that she was taking precautions against undue influence in many regards…and considering that I had apparently had the very skill and experience of someone of her caliber–or someone trained by her personally–it made perfect sense.

Still was annoying as hell that she had to do it so underhandedly, but when dealing with Chaos, most countermeasures are worth the risk. That being the case, however…

"So you somehow think that just because you were being cautious, it removes your infraction? Sorry, but that isn't how this works, in any context."

Mio, being the wonderful person she is, decided to twist the knife. "Especially since, as you yourself have stated, you openly violated guest rights when we made a point of at least an observance of our own host duties. Besides, if it was that much of a major issue, you could have just asked." She made a point of drinking even more of the tea offered, just to sink in the point even more. "So what exactly am I supposed to do with you, since you oh so graciously made an unprovoked attack on my husband?"

The expression that came over Eirin's face at that moment was absolutely marvelous to behold. I got to watch in real time as the vaunted Brain of the Moon realized that she had just pissed off not only a fox who was more than capable of being vindictive as all hell, but his extremely territorial wife who just so happened to be a goddamn DRAGON.

The sudden outburst of uproarious laughter distracted us all from the building tension in the room, and we all turned to see that Yukari had all but fallen out of her own gap and was desperately gasping for breaths due to the sheer force of her laughter. I merely motioned to the Gap Yokai as an example.

Eirin had the decency to blush, even in her muted horror.

---

In the end, things got (mostly) resolved, primarily due to both myself and Mio wanting to repay the admittedly good prank with another of equal magnitude instead of escalating. That this meant, among other things we'd set up, that Eirin's tea was surreptitiously spiked with a rapidly concocted additive that would make the revenge we sought clear as day was just the price of doing business.

As much as I respected her desire to not have her skills passed off to a spawn of Nurgle, there were lines you did not cross.

Though I wish that things had ended there, Yukari made a point of noting that that particular visit was not merely a courtesy call.

"So, as much as I wish this was just me trolling for a bit, there are some things that I felt you needed to be aware of before things get out of hand…well, more than they already are, anyway."

By now, we'd mostly relaxed and had been relatively good naturedly poking at Eirin as part of our revenge plot. Yukari mentioning actual business caused me to sit up straighter, however.

"Coming from you, I suspect that this is a bit more…involved than a standard incident" My tone made it clear that I was expecting zero games on this. "What are we dealing with?"

In response, Yukari pulled out a goddamn holoprojector of all things, and set it on the table. It quickly activated, showing a globe of the Earth as it stood now. I made a note of several areas shaded in angry and alarming colors even before she started explaining things.

"For one, the Earth you are looking at is in the middle of a nasty case of Kitchen Sink syndrome. In a nutshell, there are several areas of concern and annoyance making themselves known on the planet proper, ranging from mutations due to proliferation of that crazy super-mineral you have bonded to you, to literal outright devil invasions of varying stripes."

My jaw most certainly did not hit the floor at this declaration, and Yukari did not ignore it to continue raining bad news. "Then there's the oncoming alien invasions, the many flavors of corruption running rampant, a currently minor Typhon outbreak that is thankfully being dealt with by your friend Morgan, as she landed nearby the epicenter, and what I think is the beginnings of an outsider cult of some kind. And all of this just from what I saw when I took a glance at the planet looking for you, by the way."

I regained enough control of my senses from the sheer shock at the shitstorm we were walking into to make sure that Mio was firmly planted at my side, and ensured she stayed there with an equally firm arm wrapped around her waist.

I was not a moment too soon, as she was already struggling to escape my grip. I quickly pulled her into my lap and wrapped her up in my arms, further locking her from moving.

Of course, she was not amused by my antics. [LET ME GO!!]

[Not until we hear everything, Mio. THEN we can rush in like idiots to fix things.]

Unfortunately, this logic did not deter her in the slightest. [We can learn more after we're en route. Right now we are wasting time, dammit!! LET ME GO!!]

[WAIT.]

This continued for at least a few minutes. Yukari was kind enough to let us argue it out for a bit mentally and for me to (mostly) calm Mio down from rushing off to smite the interlopers on the planet until we heard everything.

Once we had settled down, she continued, her expression showing a not insignificant amount of sympathy to us both. "Like I said, those are just the problems I noticed when I was looking to meet up with you, The issue I was meaning to warn you about is a bit more important."

The holoprojector switched to a display of a towering suit of armor. I recognized it as originally being a rather rare mark of Terminator armor, but defaced and corrupted to extremes that nearly made me wretch. The occupant of said armor was even worse to look at.

"This…individual was noted to have been close enough to the area to be of concern to everyone on the planet below. While I have no idea of what his heraldry represents, he is clearly a follower of the plague-bearing asshole. His being here is nothing good for this world."

Fuck.

I looked at my wife. "Plague Marine?"

Mio shook her head. "Not directly, no. the marks are wrong. She's right about him being a devotee of Nurgle, though. Only their ilk ever are corrupted to that level. In a way, we are fortunate. That could have been Khorne down there, and we would have a lot more issues."

I turned back to the image, and looked closer. "Any chance of a double-fake?"

"I don't think so. The Inquisition was tight-lipped about it, but the various chaos factions tend to have some rather severe infighting among the different factions, depending on which of the tumors they worship. A Khornite will not willingly work with a Nurglite without a damned good reason, and impersonating one even less so."

A thought occurred to me, and I turned back to Yukari. "How exactly did this particular zit manage to get here, anyway? I was under the impression that even we were only here by pure happenstance, if that. A literal Chaos Marine, let alone a wannabe Champion, showing up is very much out of pocket."

Yukari shrugged. "I'm looking into it, but I suspect that you will have better results on that front than I will, even with my power." I mentally translated as 'I don't want to deal with this, and you are available, so it is no longer my concern.' It sucked, but the Gap yokai had her own concerns, and I was both available and amenable to solving the issue.

"Oh, don't worry, we will certainly take care of the Traitor." Mio all but growled out. I nodded my own agreement instead.

Yukari took that as her cue. "Well, then. That's about all I have for you. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors." a gap formed behind her, and Eirin stepped inside after a small bow in our direction. "If you are ever in the neighborhood and willing to visit, please do drop by. I'm always welcoming to guests, after all."

She turned to leave, but stopped just before she stepped into her portal. "Oh, and don't worry about the Fairies overmuch. They volunteered to stay here with you, and I see no reason to refuse them. Also, I suggest doing a thorough check before you head planetside. It will save you some issues. Farewell!"

And with the annoyingly powerful (and lazy) Yokai gone, along with her add, things were calm again. Mostly, anyway.

Mio immediately broke my hold on her and rushed to an airlock, forcing me to tackle her and use magical binds to stop her from rushing off on her own. And then she started breaking those, so I had to add in my tails to the mix as well.

"You said wait until they told us everything. They told us everything, so now we can go, right?"

I tightened my grip on her even as she squirmed free of the first set of bindings. "And Yukari also suggested that we do our fucking homework before just rushing in like idiots!!"

The second set of bindings broke, and I was forced to resort to some rather extreme methods to keep her occupied. Namely, attacking the base of her tail and her horns at the same time. It was only mostly effective. "Seriously, Mio, what's gotten into you? You are normally not this reckless about combat! Why the hell are you suddenly so hotheaded?"

Mio struggled for a bit longer before slumping in my embrace, releasing a sigh of frustration. "Fine. I've been anxious ever since we got here, waiting for the other show to drop, something else to come along and destroy the little bit of peace that we'd found here. Now that it has, I want it gone as soon as possible, so I can get back to being your sexy dragon wife instead of an Imperial Techpriestess on the warpath. That, and…it's Earth. The motherland, the cradle from which mankind emerged. That planet being in any form of danger is unacceptable to me on general principle."

I nodded, shifting to stroke her hair instead of the horns. "I get it, honey. Red cape and bull, and all that. That doesn't mean that we can just skip the workups and recon that need to happen first, so we know what the hell happened. Remember, doing it wrong only makes things worse in the long run, honey."

Mio nodded, though she made no move to extricate herself from my grasp. In fact, she actively began wriggling herself deeper into it.

I took the hind for what it was, and got to handling her stress. The Fairies notably made a point of being elsewhere while we bonded.

---

As it turns out, Yukari showing up and doing an info dump was, in fact, her trolling, as the scanner that we'd set up a few days ago had finished its initial sweep just before the Gap's appearance, and had pretty much the exact same things to say about the situation on the ground, just with varying levels of detail compared to her.

Notably, the two biggest problems already had boots on the scene and active. The originium spread was being investigated by multiple agencies of the various governments involved, while the devil invasion was being dealt with on the ground by forces unknown. It helped that the devil incursions were significantly smaller than the originium outbreaks, which were themselves actually quite minor as far as total surface area of the planet was concerned. Hell, there weren't even any patches near or in bodies of water, for fuck's sake!!

That was the good news, though. The bad news was a bit more complex.

For one, there were multiple, and I mean multiple, dimensional anomalies and/or outright rifts just sitting there in the open planetside. Nothing that we had up here had the resolution to even attempt to scan inside, or they were being blocked by the nature of the anomalies themselves, but the point remianed that they existed and were bad news. Hell, 95% of the Originium outbreaks could be traced back to one of those anomalies in the first place, so there was a chance of solving that issue before it became a problem right there…but the other issues were going to be a pin in the ass to deal with.

And not all of them were actually planetside, for that matter.

First major issue: the earth itself had changed drastically, with entire new landmasses somehow merged into the existing area, and the planet itself increasing somewhere between a quarter to a half again in size as a result. This, as can be expected, was causing untold amounts of issues as everyone scrambled to update the maps and try to adjust to the new normal.

Second was space-related: that alien invasion that Yukari mentioned was indeed on the way, and it was coming in force. Estimated based solely on my limited resolution scan had the fleet in the range of hundreds of ships, easy. That, and something about the emissions patterns bugged me, like I should have recognized them for some reason.

The third one was related to that trace I'd wanted regarding how we got here in the first place. As it turns out, once again, Yukari was telling us things that we would have found out within minutes had she not interfered. The additional data attached to it had cleared up some things, and added a few questions to the mix as well.

Somehow, we were either still within the Necromunda warp storm, or were so far into the deep warp that regular space could not even be properly described.

Or something else. Getting a proper read on what the fuck was going on was getting weird, and I would probably have to crack more than one book to get actual answers. Needless to say, we weren't in Kansas by a long shot, and needed to act appropriately.

The last was back to the planet, and had resolved a question about why this particular world and/or space almost right off...while also giving me a headache at what I would have to be dealing with. A headache that I doubted that even all the knowledge imparted upon me as the second Brain of the Moon could help with.

Because sitting in orbit around the newly enlarged planet of doom and horror was a particular creature. One that looked very much akin to an angel, if you didn't look too closely, but with a grand multitude of wings instead of clothing, and being a fucking near-indestructible construct instead of something that could just die normally.

Because of course that particular hellhole had to get mixed up in this mess, and now I had to deal with a fucking Kaiju wannabe from the mind of a nihilist.

Potentially more than just the fucking troll bird too, if the rest of it's setting was dragged along with. Which, considering the ball of fire moving across Saharan Africa at the moment, I had to assume was the case.

Mio took one look at the situation and summed it up about as well as I could have myself.

"Fuck."

Yeah, we definitely had our work cut out for us.

---

---

Oh. Look. Narrative Payoff. Now just to shift things forward.

There will be some other things happening as we move forward, but consider the mini-vacation over with for now. Now we enter the calm before the storm.

Spoiler: Perks for this Chapter

-Brain of the Moon (Touhou Forbidden Hermit) (600CP)
Did you study under Eirin? Like her, you can make a drug to perfectly cure any possible disease, make drugs that could manipulate the Dream World, and likely produce even more fantastical effects. This does have a few limitations, you cannot create a drug that does the impossible, you can't cure something you do not know or understand, and you cannot make drugs without base ingredients. Perhaps if you found someone who could manipulate eternity itself you could even replicate the Hourai Elixir. This does not come with any raw materials, but you will also find ways to substitute the raw materials of other worlds for anything you could have found here.

-Seamless Construction (Endless Space) (400CP)
You might not be able to design the perfect ship, but you certainly could build one that is good enough. Given enough resources and the proper blueprints, you can build ships that would rival that of the Endless, cast as a single, cohesive whole. Even if you build it with mundane methods, it still ends up being nearly perfect, not a single design flaw or construction error in sight. This also applies to things you build that aren't spaceships.

-They Will Prosper (Marvel Magic) (200CP)
Being able to make fantastical tech that can compete even with magic is all well and good, but is it really being put to optimal use if you're the only one directly benefiting from using it? You will find you have a knack for scaling personal technology to a larger size. Turn a personal shield into something that can protect an entire city or make your particle gun into a weapon of mass destruction. Of course, just because you can figure out the logistics behind increasing the scale of your technology doesn't mean you actually have the resources to make these plans into a reality -- and you can bet increasing the scale by a large degree will see a comparative increase in the cost of resources.

-Weapon Modifications (Archer) (100CP)
You design and modify weapons with flair, creativity, and skill.
–Phrasing (freebie)
You gain the ability to easily bait people into making sexual innuendos.

 

[Slider Zero]

Calling the madhouse that they were currently embroiled in a mere battle was an understatement of the highest caliber, from Arikia's perspective.

Somehow, the Speranza had managed to break through the multiple blockades of the Sol system in a bid to reach Holy Terra for a purpose that none but the AI of the ship itself knew.

And Silent Lightkeeper was not talking.

The problem, of course, was that The system itself was under siege from what seemed like every possible force in the galaxy all at once and then some. A Warband of Orks were attempting to push the defensive lines in one area, constant hit-and-fade attacks from the Eldar in another, and what looked to be a full-on push for the ages from a would-be Chaos Champion as well, and all at the same time!! It was complete and utter madness, and they had been sucked into it almost as soon as they had exited the warp in-system.

Which then led to the ship and it's crew to fight for their lives by any means necessary. It was fortunate that these "Valkyrie Cores" that their power armor had been enhanced by were so capable, or else she and her sisters would likely be dead by now.

As it was, they were probably inventing an entirely new branch of warfare right this very moment, taking the fight to the enemy vessels and delivering devastating blows from their newest weapons and wargear, graciously donated to them by Silent Lightkeeper as a means to help defend the ship.

Though, she felt it would never truly become tiring to be able to fire a Battleship-caliber Macro Cannon while in mere power armor and feel no recoil whatsoever.

"We have another wave coming? More Fighters!! Lisbeth, pull back to the second line and let Annalise handle them!"

Sister Beatrice was doing well to coordinate the defense of the Speranza as she was, despite the confusion of the surrounding battlefield, and had so far managed to swat down at least two Ork Rokks and a corrupted cruiser with her barrages. Sister Annalise, meanwhile, was picking off the fighters from that makeshift carrier that the Orks had dragged in-system like flies using an extremely high-powered hellcannon variant of some kind, and she was enjoying every second of it.

Sister Mariel was spamming missiles everywhere she could get even the slightest of target acquisitions, and they were reaping their toll upon the Xeno and Heretic alike in equal measure, despite the damned Eldar and their attempts at weaving through the ever thickening fields of fire.

Even Harrison had not remained idle, utilizing his strange abilities to deliver devastating amounts of destruction to wherever he chose, practically at will.

And yet it was never enough. There were always more coming, more howling beasts in the darkness attempting to snuff out their light. The tides were unceasing in their assault, and for the first time since this battle had begun she felt the beginning twinges of fatigue.

Considering that they had been fighting their way towards Mars, at best speed, for the better part of forty-eight hours, now, that was saying a great deal more than anyone was willing to give credit for to the mere mortals of the Imperium.

Was this what it felt like to be an Astartes?

A glimmer of movement in the distance caught her attention. There appeared to be a ship of some kind rapidly approaching the combat zone, and from the energy readings she was getting, it was prepared for war. As of yet, there was no way to resolve anything as to what it was–

"Silent Lightkeeper to all hands: Withdraw to the ship. We will be executing an emergency egress. Repeat: Withdraw to the ship immediately."

What? What manner of situation had occurred now?

No matter. She could discover what was going on after their base wasn't about to run away from them.

"Sisters, heed the Lightkeeper! Return at once to the ship!"

Even as she turned and sped back towards her current home, she heard five voiced sing out in acknowledgement.

Now, to see what madness was due to occur that required them to egress so quickly.

---

"Alright, anyone know what the hell is going on, or am I the only one in the dark, as usual?" Harry asked the exhausted crew compliment, such as they were. Given that even he was worn down to the bone, he wasn't expecting much of an answer, but sometimes people would surprise you…

"No idea sir!" screamed back Richardson, one of the techs from Van Saar. He had been manning the autodefense consoles in the CIC during the battle, and even he looked like hell. "Bloody AI just told us to get ready for a move. No reason why."

Under most circumstances, Harry would have found this odd, and thus worthy of further investigation. This was not most circumstances. "Well, you have any idea what it might be, then?"

Richardson shook his head, and then slumped back in a chair, tending to his cup of recaf. Harry didn't blame him.

"Attention: emergency evasive maneuvers will be initiated shortly. Brace for warp transition."

Wait, WHAT!?!

He tried to shout out a command. Something, anything that might have prevented the coming disaster.

Nothing came. At least, not fast enough for it to have mattered.

The Speranza executed an incredibly brief dip into the Immaterium, and was in and out in record time.

The interior of the ship, however, was now crawling with minor daemons…that…seemed to be dying by the truckload? The fuck?

"Error. Navigation Database indicates that exit coordinates do not match with projected course. Senior crew members to the bridge to assess."

Harry blinked at the message, even while Daemons were all but evaporating all around them. He could only shrug at the events.

"Well, might as well see what he wants, right?"

---

As it turned out, 'not matching with projected course' ended up being near halfway across the galaxy, because somehow their luck worked like that.

The good news was that at least it was an Imperial world they had ended up in orbit to.

"Repeat, Unknown vessel, this is Ryza void control, respond, or you will be fired upon. This is your last warning."

Yeah, VERY off course.

Another daemon popped as it attempted to close the distance between them. Harry could only laugh ruefully at the occurrence.

---

So, the initial scans had not told us anything good. Further refinement of the Earth-facing scans using both technological and supernatural means had confirmed that things were well on their way to being completely in "hell in a handbasket" mode.

For one, my best guess is that the original, base Earth for this place, at least prior to the merger or whatever else had happened to the world, was Earth Bet. Which had its own issues, aside from the fact that it meant that from what little I knew of the damned story it was based off of via cultural osmosis, the world was currently being run by idiots with delusions of grandeur.

Or potentially a multidimensional conspiracy that was completely in over their heads even before the adds showed up. I had no way of knowing, and my knowledge of the series was limited to fanfic. Either way, they were going to need help, no matter what, but the actual nature that help took would depend on whether they were actually capable and competent in doing their fucking jobs.

Of course, there was also the issue of that Typhon outbreak happening near Morgan's landing site. From the looks of it she had mostly mopped it up (and onsite Transtar security had helped to eliminate the rest) but it looked like there were some issues regarding the fact that she was even alive in the first place. Seemed that the Yu's were very much cutthroat, even to their own children.

As long as the damned Typhon stayed contained long enough for Morgan to finish the job, it was not my problem. I was more worried about the bigger time bombs, namely the Devil invasion that was attempting to happen, and the ongoing issue with the Golden asshole and his three pet kaiju wannabes. From what I knew, the author had a bit of a fetish for buffing the damned things past the point of all reason until they were effectively invulnerable to most methods, and the fandom made a point of trying to uphold that bullshit. Finding a way to kneecap or outright destroy the damn things, preferably without erasing the planet in the process, was a priority.

More concerning was the golden bastard. The same cultural osmosis told me that he was only truly 'beaten' by being driven to suicide by the series protag, as he was otherwise too powerful for the locals to deal with in any meaningful capacity. While I was certain I could rig something up to deal with that asshole, doing so without erasing the planet was, again, going to be an issue.

In fact, just from a general planning perspective, it was looking like most of the issue we were going to have was coming from the people on the planet below not being ready to actually deal with a threat of this magnitude in any way, let alone multiples of them. Easy solution: training, training, and even more training, preferably in something that would act as a massive force multiplier right out of the gate. Magic would likely be the best bet, Aura a close second.

"So, I see you over there working up a plan, but what exactly are we going to do about the shitstorm down there?" Mio had calmed down since the news started hitting, likely due to my having forcibly relaxed her for long enough for it to stick. Still, the fact that she was asking me for a plan and not trying to cobble one together herself was a bit surprising.

"What, you don't already have something in the works? I thought you liked being prepared for situations like this."

Mio shrugged. "That mess, and I am more than happy to admit this, is entirely beyond my expertise in any capacity. I have no way of telling what would happen if I unilaterally decided to push in any one direction, and there are entirely too many glass houses down there that are at risk of shattering if something goes wrong. Best not to push without need."

I nodded my agreement. It was the core problem to the entire mess, that there were too many problems to deal with, and nowhere near enough resources to deal with them with. At least, not without spooking the local authorities so hard that they would consider us bigger threats than the actual threats they faced.

Which reminded me of the other problem…that damn fleet headed our way. Dealing with that was going to prove to be an issue at a minimum. Perhaps even more, if things went south (as they were likely to do).

One of the fairies, Gloria, dropped a flexipad into my hands, excitement clear in her aura. The flexible tablet-like device was a spur-of-the-moment invention on Mio's part, and they had quickly become a favorite of the fairy crew after they discovered them. They tended to use them for most things nowadays, including accessing the central data servers for useful info.

The screen was currently showing a map of what looked like the continental United States, with a glowing dot emanating from a spot on the New England area. I peered closer at the data, only to realize what I was looking at a moment later.

Mio poked her head in as well, and quickly came to the same conclusion that I had. "That's Rico's transponder signal!!"

The grin on my face was utterly infectious. "Indeed it is. The little guy's okay after all. Better yet, he can help us get some access to local information instead of snooping on stuff from up here. Normally it would not be that big of a deal, but with the bitch of feathers hanging in orbit, I'm not wanting to risk hacking a satellite for intel."

Mio paused to think for a moment. "Can Rico even use anything to transfer information that fast? I would think that he'd have some slight issues with the connection on his end without help."

She brought up a good point. We could reestablish contact, definitely, but anything past that was going to require us to get some kind of equipment groundside and in a place that was reasonably defensible. There was also the consideration that it would need to be a base for most of our endeavors while on the planet, at least for some form of duration or another, which would likely evolve as the situation developed and people reacted to our presence and actions.

I sighed in frustration. "This is looking more and more like a total clusterfuck every second. I think we need to sidestep a problem for a bit."

Mio looked at me curiously, and I could sense the same curiosity from the fairies that were listening in. I just smiled.

"Instead of forcing the issue on the ground, especially without intel, we sidestep a bit and do something else that we can accomplish. In this case, preparing things for that invasion fleet coming our way, and possibly a bit more. We can wait on everything else until after Rico gives us a read on the ground situation. Fair?"

Mio nodded. "Agreed. Now, then. Let's get to work, shall we?"

---

Having a newfound crisis on our hands was an oddly focusing experience. Things that we were kind of playing around with were completed and shuffled around in record times, only for newer projects to take their place. For my case, I had come to a series of inspirations, a possible epiphany, and a certain resolve.

The Epiphany had to do with the N-Way reaction process. The base form of it was using some advanced shielding for the reaction chamber to allow more than two bodies within a fusion reaction. On its own, it is a massive innovation, but limited to fusion reactions due to the technology. (Of course, there was extra stuff built into the reactors themselves to allow for effectively unlimited power generation, but that stuff is both extra and stupidly complex.)

I took the concept and ran with it. Previously, I had only attempted to apply this technology to Photon reactors, and with little success, due to the difference in the way the tech operated.

Now? I knew, not thought, knew I had the solution in my hands to the problem. Better yet, implementing it, not only for a photon reactor, but for the etherwave reactors as well, was going to be an absolute cakewalk. And would result in at least a 650% increase in power output, no less.

For the mark one.

The implications were staggering, honestly, and the uses for that much power were all but writing themselves, one of which I fully intended to put to use later.

But first, I had to do some redesign and rewriting, as I had a bit of inspiration regarding the nature of Shiekah technology as well. Not only about the quasi-mystical power source that could be easily curated and cultivated in so many ways, but the nature of the unique shiekah script as well.

And part of my newest project was going to be a complete redesign of the Shiekah slate and a cleanup of the code within, because I could do that now.

I had also had a breakthrough regarding the optical storage systems that I was working on, leading to an absolutely exponential increase in data storage capacity and access speeds, as well as a noticeable increase in write/rewrite operations stability and efficiency as well. In fact, merely getting it off the ground properly gave me a big enough hunch to get a highly efficient variation of quantum computing running and operational, though at the moment it was extremely unrefined. I would be looking through some of the other databases later for anything I might be able to use as a means to increase processing speeds, but otherwise it stood as a valid example of crystalline-based computing.

And all of it was going to be tuned towards one purpose.

I had noted it previously during the larger projects. Always, we've had an issue regarding practical size limits of what we could work on, what could be worked with. Sure, given enough time and effort, and with a little bit of supernatural assistance in the form of Telekinesis, Mio and I could create wonders of astounding size in equally baffling speeds…but this was not true of others who we would pull in to help, nor was it a bypass for the truly massive projects that would be the cornerstones of later major innovation and production.

No, what I needed, now more than anything else, was a machine that was capable of allowing for normal people to accomplish the things that would be needed in the days to come.

Basically, I needed a Mecha.

The problem was what kind of mecha? The term encompassed everything from simple powered exoskeletons to gigantic super robots capable of destroying entire galaxies, after all. So, what was I looking to accomplish with building this?

First, it had to be operable both in space and on the ground, which meant that the frame had to be sturdy enough to survive being used in atmosphere.

Second, the base design had to be at least understandable by normal people, mostly so that I could avoid being seen as a Tinker and attracting the attention of idiots, so nothing too outlandish or funky related to advanced technology. As much as I was fully intending to do a tech uplift, it was going to have to be done at least somewhat carefully to blunt the inevitable PRT backlash.

That this also had the benefit of allowing for actual science to happen without my input was a notable, if not strictly intended, benefit.

Third, the design had to be adaptable. As much as it would be easy to just create a giant forklift thing or similar, it had to be capable of multiple tasks with minimal effort on the part of the crews operating them, meaning that certain design philosophies were not going to work.

Fourth…was more a preference, but it tied into the third very much. I wanted the final design to be humanoid, mostly for the benefits of adaptability that it would provide.

Take all these aspects together, and I had a general idea of the intended end product, but there was still a ton of variance even then, as size ranges could vary massively. The estimated 'top' end was, of course, the iconic Mobile Suit, averaging out at about 18-20 meters in height, which worked well for the task, but…

Mobile Suits themselves were designed for an environment where most guidance systems were either extremely local or were unreliable due to various reasons, usually involving Minovsky particle interference in most cases. The smaller types of mecha, however, had the issues of being less capable in heavier labor tasks the smaller you got.

I ultimately decided to aim for the 10-12m class and average upwards if I needed to. If nothing else, it would allow for some decent setups with regard to optional equipment, and could still do heavy labor if needed.

Besides, more room for the power plant, which is the real fun part.

With these basic details decided, designing the rest was almost painfully simple, even down to materials. Most of my design utilized my now standard modular design principles, and intentionally used a power supply that could be built with tech levels appropriate to what I remembered of Worm's setting, which should have been the early 2010's.

The truly revolutionary stuff would come later.

The end result was something that would probably have scared a lot of people, even with the fact that it was unarmed and primarily designed for workmen.

I would pointedly not be mentioning how easily it could be up-armed and armored in the case of the inevitable outside escalation event requiring it. Nor that I was capable of things far, far more impressive with almost frightening ease. At least, not yet.

I loaded the design into the central database for simulation testing and moved on with the day. The time for building the first test unit would come soon enough.

---

The Rising Phoenix finally arrived in the Lunar space a few days later, to the joy of the Kerbal crew, who were rather sick and tired of having to deal with the ship being finicky. For our purposes, it meant that Mio and I could check on the odd transformation process that the ship was undergoing before the Mechanicus ruined things.

Besides, it was a distraction from the wait for better SIGINT to come back in, or at least for Rico to attempt to get a message back to us and establish proper contact, both things that we had no actual control over.

The Kerbals had somehow managed to get the Phoenix in the docking slip we'd built with minimal fuss, and had more or less bumrushed the expanded facilities like kids on a sugar rush. Only a bare few of them bothered to stay behind and fill us in on what had happened.

"...and after that, I just floored it." Jeb sighed. "There was no reason to hang around, and that weird stuff was actively trying to eat the ship even as we ran. Almost got us, too, if not for the hyperspace generator working as intended. Still, it kept us from coming to assist you with the space station up there. And from the scans we took of the place as we came in, you would have needed the help."

I shrugged. "We did alright, though most of the issues we had were because of residual chaos taint. Made a few new…acquaintances, at that, though they are planetside at the moment."

I took a moment to look Jeb over. He seemed alright, but that escape would have been harrowing for anyone, let alone a being who had no concept of just how big of a bullet he had dodged. Still…

"Once you guys are done up here, I want you all to go through a medical check, just to be sure. No reason to invite trouble if we can avoid it, after all."

Jeb nodded. "No complaints from me, boss. Just…try to not have us go through that kind of thing again, at least without having a way to fight back? Please?"

"No promises, but I'll keep it in mind. Can't predict the rest of the universe, after all…" I replied, my amusement clear.

Jeb chuckled at my comment, and soon the both of us were in full-blown laughter.

Having had a good laugh, Jeb proceeded to show off the current state of the ship, with Bob tagging along as a translator of sorts. The fact that it was needed at all came as a bit of a shock, as I distinctly remember what I built into this ship.

And only the most superficial aspects were the same, at this point. It seemed that whatever had been the driving force behind the transformation had noted that it had arrived at a safe port, and had immediately redirected a ton of resources (mostly energy) to the effort to finish its conversion process. Even now, I could feel the rapidly strengthening impeller lightly clashing with my own passive field, seeking out the limits of its area of control. Based on that, plus a few system logs, I estimated that the process would complete itself within two hours at most.

And then we could see for certain what the reborn Rising Phoenix was capable of.

Abbreviated tour having completed, I moved into getting the Kerbal crew settled into the moonbase proper. There was a bit of a shock involved, mostly at the fact that they were actually on the fucking moon (even if it wasn't their own moon, it was still an awesome feat) and many a Kerbal ran to get peeks at the more scenic views of the base.

Wernher, of course, was having none of it until he had set up his workspaces to his standards. Even with everyone else taking the time to enjoy the sights, he was hard at work doing things at his own pace.

I more or less laughed at his attempts to claim nearly the entirety of the labs as his personal demesne, mostly because he would be fighting directly with the portions of Liz's fairy crew who were more science curious and had been poking things since they had arrived.

"I said NO, you ugly green dummy!!"

"You foolish woman!! You will not stand in the way of progress!"

Hell, I could hear the screaming coming from across the base already!

I'm sure that Wernher and the Science Fairies would get along just fine.

Aside from that, there was not much else going on, save the great preparation and setup dance while we played the waiting game for new infor–

My HUD blinked, as did most of the screens in the base, with a proximity warning.

Which confused the hell out of me, as there was nothing that should have had enough size or sheer speed to have triggered it anywhere on the moon without having been caught by an operator first. And cycling back through the various feeds showed me nothing and nada that fit the bill.

So what the hell had set off the alarms?

Mio caught up to me in short order. "What is it?"

I shrugged, focusing on a sudden unease that I felt coming from…that direction. "I don't know. Hell, I didn't think that there was anything that could trigger those when we put them in, at least not without getting spotted first. And the Operator feed have nothing."

An impulse had me suddenly checking on the new occupants of the base, who were all in a bit of shock. The Kerbals, despite this, were already moving to suit up and batten down, just in case there was a containment breach. The Fairies, on the other hand, were all oddly tense, and seemed to be sensing the same thing I did. Now if only I could figure out what the hell was going on…

"We might want to be outside for this, hon. At least then they won't be breaking our base if they're hostile." Mio opined. And as was usual for situations like this, she was speaking my innermost thoughts without actually looking inside.

"Alright then." I turned to Liz, who had planted herself more or less at my side for the moment. "Liz, make sure that everyone stays safe for me, alright?"

Liz pointedly did not react to her nickname, but instead nodded solemnly at my command as Mio and I rushed for an exterior access airlock.

It was mere moments later that we were outside, frames out, and searching for whatever had been ringing our bell so hard. Our mystery guest deliberately decided to be a dick and refuse to appear, because that would be polite and reasonable and thus would not happen.

Instead, we got to flail about as sensors completely failed to pick up whatever the hell was out here with us. A brief check with active magical sensors revealed more of nothing. And yet, the sense of presence refused to go away–

[MOVE NOW]

I obeyed without question, the warning coming just in the nick of time.

The mass of blackness that rushed past my previous position was actually terrifying to behold. The sound made by its passage even more so. Even with my own enhanced senses, I could barely see it move. Worse, the damn thing didn't actually stop moving at all, and was already moving around for a counterattack.

Mio and I shared a single thought at that moment. As one, we rushed headlong into battle.

For all the good that it did us, anyway. The damned thing was just moving too fast. Nothing I had available to me was actually getting a good lock on the damned thing, and my frame had a lot of usable weaponry.

Mio tried to go for a box-in attempt, and was quickly shown the futility, as the damn thing simply dove underground and started swimming through the regolith like it was water, and in the process nearly getting us caught up in a spat of friendly fire.

And the entire time that same damned sound echoed around it, almost as if it was a calling card of some kind.

The sudden reappearance of our aggressor directly underneath me kind of negated my moment of introspection, forcing me to attempt an awkward dodge that only just got me out of the line of attack…only to immediately get hit by some kind of damaging projectile. The damn thing all but tore at my impeller field, nearly managing to breach the defense even as I dodged. Mio's attempt at a counterattack was ignored, simply by dint of sheer speed.

I crashed back to the lunar surface with a loud bang, my senses jarred by the onslaught. Even then, I could still feel the monster going after Mio with the same ruthless precision, and dealing with her in the same manner. Something that I took great offense to.

The spell formula came to my mind almost on reflex, the wide-area lockdown field slamming home with an almost audible roar of power…and merely slowing our opponent down to something approaching sane speeds for Valkyrie combat, which was still stupid fast for everyone else. It did, however, allow me to finally get a decent scan in on the fucker.

The results were not pretty. Apparently this thing was some kind of amalgamation of the remaining Typhon on the Moon, along with some kind of abandoned hypertech relic…and something else that pinged as being unique within the mashup itself. That the identifier for said uniqueness was in chozo script was all the warning I needed that things were going to get ugly.

As for the creature itself…it looked like a gigantic snake-thing, complete with armored 'scales' protecting it's soft bits from harm. My mind almost immediately drew up a comparison to the Serris creature of Metroid fame.

The creature, seeming to sense the disabling of it's speed as a weapon, instead unfurled it's head…into at least eight other heads, all of which started blasting.

Yeah. Serris…except Serris wasn't a goddamn Hydra.

The blasts were only powerful enough to tear through a non-enhanced impeller field with ease, after all. And they were only being aimed with a precision that would put even an expert sniper to shame.

Too bad for the Orochi wannabe that I was already adapting to the fight. A quick reset of my Impeller, and a blatant cheat move of doing some more personal management of the fields allowed me to triple, and then triple again the strength of my field barrier, along with adding a few extra layers to the mix for the next hit. Which was tested not even a microsecond afterwards as I got battered from no less than three directions by the apparently homing bullet-type attacks that the fucker was interspacing between the big beam blasts.

The good news was that the bullets were weaker than the big beams. The bad news was that this was a relative weakness, and I got to watch in horror as my defense was whittled down to a thread. A muted scream echoed across the space, and I vaguely recognized that Mio had gotten hit too, and just as hard.

This shit was getting ridiculous. We'd barely managed to get a proper counterattack going against it, even with the damned interdiction field I'd set up. Hell, if anything, the fucker was toying with us. How the hell?

I felt Mio's rage hit a peak, and felt it even more when she infused herself with something as she roared. The shockwave alone ripped up a good chunk of the landscape as it connected with the unexpecting beast, and the actual main thrust of the attack hit even harder, managing to knock it off balance, even if for a moment.

A moment being all that she needed.

Mio streaked in to zero range, inflicting absolutely devastating blows to the creature as it tried to rally itself, to no avail. The sheer savagery of her strikes and the utter rage I could feel from her was terrifying even to me, and I had to actively push myself to get my head back in the game and provide proper covering fire.

I unloaded everything and more. Missiles, beam weaponry, the fucking works. Most found their marks, to varying amounts of damage…and yet the fucker still stood, acting as if we were merely inconveniencing it.

And now I was mad.

I rushed in right alongside my wife, and together we proceeded to beat the brakes off of the fucker in the most savage way possible. This is not to say that it was all our way, mind: the Orochi wannabe was giving out just as good as it was getting, and even was pulling out new tricks every time it thought it could get away with it as well.

It wasn't until I missed another strike against the damn snake because of it outright blinking out of the way somehow that I remembered a thing. Specifically, the existence of the 'advanced' impeller techniques used by Elite and Ace Valkyries, one of which was effectively a teleportation technique in its own right. And while trying to use the teleport trick right now was not going to cut it…there was another note that I remembered as well.

Impeller fields could be meshed together for 'group' techniques.

If nothing else, it would help lock down the fucker even harder than he was, and probably stop the damned blink-shift thing it was doing to dodge around the killshots we were throwing at it.

Mio, being as always my beloved wife who is always in tune with me, knew the plan even before I had finished creating it, and moved to execute without needing to be prompted. I felt her impeller reach outwards towards me, and reciprocated even as we were dodging around yet another megablast from Orochi, who was still attempting to boost everywhere to regain its advantage.

Together, we reached outwards, enveloping the entire battle space as defined by my lockdown field…and basically told reality to take a hike.

The wide-area interdiction, as crude as it was, worked wonders. Snakey-boy found itself screeching to a halt as the forces arrayed against it became too much for it to overcome, and was summarily trapped and bound by follow-up techniques and magic as appropriate.

And then we went to town.

The screams of pain and rage echoed across the lunar landscape, and I was pretty sure that some of them were even echoing in vacuum, at that. And we did not let up.

The crater that was forming from our onslaught was growing miles wide as a result of the sheer power we were throwing around, and we did not relent.

The lightshow grew bright enough that I was pretty sure that there would be some very pointed questions from the space agencies when we finally got in contact, and still we did not relent.

Only when we heard the death scream from the creature, which by now had truly earned the name of Orochi, did we cease in our applications of excessive firepower. Answer both stood there, waiting, making sure that it was actually dead and not just trying to fake it.

But no…it was dead and done. The typhon-infested bits, what little were left, anwyway, sloughing away in a puddle of inky black gore as the remaining mechanical portions collapsed inwards on themselves, barring a few isolated areas and places.

One of which was our missing chozo-tech artifact…in the form of a cube?

"Err…Satori, dear…" Mio called out to me, "don't those normally come in sphere shapes?"

I shrugged. "I'm as confused as you are, honey. I have no clue what the hell that could be." Though for some reason I felt that it was important, I could not for the life of me understand why.

Moving forward, I made sure to scan everything I could of the wreckage as I moved. Nothing really stood out, aside from the fact that the remains of the (now clearly identified as alien) technology was based on micromachines, or possibly even nanomachines of some kind in a networked intelligence. I stopped long enough to store some samples and kept going. Finally getting to the cube thing, I picked it up…whereupon it immediately began assimilating into my frame, breaking down as it did so.

[ERROR: instability detected between technology bases. Attempting to compensate. Upgrade data placed on hold until resolved.]

Well, shit. That can't be good. At least it was an actual upgrade, and not some kind of trap, though…

"Honey? You alright over there?" Mio asked, having walked closer as I cleared the wreckage, and obviously wanting to ensure that I was not dying inside my suit. She placed a hand on my shoulder in support.

And, because of course it would, the data for the upgrade immediately jumped to Mio's Minerva, too. And immediately after, I heard her cursing softly as she likely received the same error message.

A dialog box appeared in my HUD. [T: The error in question is due to the methods used to integrate the Chozo Power armor into your existing Frames. The armor systems have their own methods of acquiring and integrating abilities, and are attempting to prioritize their use in this situation.]

A second prompt appeared after the first, in a different shade. [M: the issue involved here is that the changes required for the upgrade to function are much, much deeper than the core system augmentation normally allows for, and is attempting to apply itself to the entire system as a whole instead of just the frame. It is creating a conflict between the integration and upgrade systems that is currently irreconcilable.]

Mio had started sorting though the wreckage at this point, storing anything that caught her interest. So far, there wasn't much. "So, can't we just let this upgrade go through, then? It shouldn't hurt much, right?"

[T: under normal circumstances, you would be correct. However, the required upgrade involves creating a compatibility layer for an entirely new form of energy that would be used as part of the capabilities it grants. The internal database of the upgrade itself refers to the power source as 'Aeion.']

[M: We are unsure of how much this energy would affect other systems, and our attempts at doing proper cross-talk between the elements has forced the issue to a head.]

I sighed. "So, what you are saying is that we need to do complete refactors of the entire frame to get this fixed?"

[T: No. Rather, this alone will not alleviate the issue. The issue here is a hierarchical one, with the chozo suit's onboard systems attempting to apply upgrade logic to my core systems without regard to actual limitations with respect to the Frame divide. A complete refactoring of my core itself would be required to remove the imbalance, effectively creating a whole new system. Minerva has the same issue.]

[M: We estimate that the process can be completed quickly and safely, but it will require you to either empty out your impeller storage or risk losing everything inside as part of the process. We also recommend that you apply certain upgrades to your core systems during the downtime to better allow for us to support you, and also to ensure functionality of the third generation cores that Mio will no doubt be working on soon. Estimated time for refactor as of current variables is twenty hours, assuming a complete desync.]

The two of us started making our way back to Pytheas as we listened, having grabbed everything of interest from Orochi's corpse, and I couldn't help but smile at that timeframe and condition. "So, what you are saying is that if we stayed partially synced, the time could be reduced as a result of our abilities."

Mio was just as enthused. "Potentially even reduced outright?"

[T: Or increased exponentially as a result of a new connection with the forge of stars. I currently have no way of modelling the outcome.]

Yeah, that was fair enough. Can't guess at the unknown, even if Thoth had a good idea of how things worked with the forge. Still, it was something to think about while we got the upgrades we wanted installed.

---

Once we were back at the base (and finished getting mobbed by the Kerbals and Fairies both) we quickly got on task with the required preparations for the upgrade process that our partners would need. This was doubly important compared to even the other preparations, as there was no doubt in anyone's mind that people on the ground had seen the aftermath of that battle and would be asking questions. Sooner or later someone would notice that there was a radio transceiver on the moon, and would try to ping it. We needed to be ready for when that happened.

"BOSS!! WE'RE GETTING A SIGNAL!!!"

Like right now.

Another of the fairies (this one was…Bethany, I think) handed me a flexipad, already tuned in to the appropriate frequency.

The transmission was a solid 5 by 5. The content?

"This is NASA's Mission Control in Houston. To unknown station on lunar surface, please respond."

I hesitated for a moment. This was actually a huge deal for me, to be talking to the guys down at Johnson Space Center…especially from the moon itself. There was a sense of odd pride and nostalgia there for me. I made the odd observation of the Kerbal team gathering around me, anticipation in their eyes.

Mio softly nudged me, her own encouragement clear even without the soft smile on her face. She, at least, understood.

I keyed the mic, the brief feedback of doing so clearing up almost immediately. Somehow, I could even feel the guys down 'below' at JSC perk up and pay attention.

"This is Technical Sergeant Satori Green, United States Air Force. How you guys doing down there?"

---

---

And so it begins. Contact has been established.

Also, before anyone starts bitching, Orochi was moving at speeds that were blindingly fast even by Valkyrie Standards. As for the powerup? I will state that it is an actual Metroid Item, and Orochi was using it. That should be more than enough hints.

Also, the thought of being able to communicate with Mission Control at all is a dream for any space nerd. Satori's reaction here is appropriate ^_^

Spoiler: Perks for this chapter (Currently unawarded due to story flow)

-Artistic Architect (Halo - Forerunner Saga) (100CP)
Forerunner structures are not simple. Even in the worst of times, there is a beauty to their layout. Patterns woven into walls, shining pillars reaching to the sky, and shimmering glass panes adjourning corridors. Forerunners don't just build big. They build artfully. Like so many other Builders, you have an eye, and a hand, for beauty in construction. From the most simple of floors, to the most terrifying of weapons, you can spruce them up so that they are breathtaking to behold.

-Device Meister | Similar Principles | Ancient Knowledge
Device Meister (600CP)
This is the real treasure of the TSAB's technological capabilities - mixing the use of magic and technology inorder to create Devices that can channel the energy outwards. You have a complete knowledge of how to build and maintain Devices, along with how to program AI for said Devices to use.
While you can construct most Devices and similar items presented here, the ability to make Unison Devices isn't included here - you'll have to learn that one on your own, and many have tried and failed to do so in the past. You could, with some experimentation, combine different magical systems into Devices together, especially with the help of 'SimilarPrinciples' to streamline the process...it will take some trial and error, but you could apply these principles and Devices to other systems if you work at it enough.
Similar Principles (400CP)
It's strange how similar concepts can be between dimensions, no? The line between magic and technology just doesn't seem as thin as it otherwise should be, especially in your hands. The TSAB system combines both, and while this doesn't let you start building Devices from the ground up, you understand the principle enough that you can combine magic systems from other worlds with technology. Guns that fire beams of mana, helmets that create a telepathy-based chat network, wristbands that let you form an outfit from thin air...spells can be made into technology much more easily, and the technologies play a bit more nicely with magic in your hands, even if a particular system of magic isn't fond of being 'simplified' by science. How about that?
Ancient Knowledge (400CP)
The legacy of the Belkan Empire exists not merely within ruins or Lost Logia, but in the blood of its people. You have inherited a bloodline of note, and while it may or may not be one of the canonical or major bloodlines, a piece of it has followed you in your very DNA, subconsciously nudging at your memory. While this creates no stress or strain on your personality, the connection is diluted enough that you can't consciously access this memory...but when you come into contact with Lost Logia, you will rapidly gain insight into how it functions and possibly ways to engineer it once again. You will need actual technical skills to pull this off, but with a little bit of time, perhaps you can restorewhat is lost? Post-jump, this same insight applies to 'lost' or 'forgotten' technology, though you will likely need other sources of knowledge and abilities to truly restore it, depending on its complexity. May or may not come with brief instances of acting and speaking like a resident of the Belkan Empire at random intervals.

-Junkyard (Mass Effect Andromeda) (400CP)
Junk to some is treasure to others. You get a doorway that leads to a small pocket universe that is filled with the local area's lost, broken and/or discarded items. You might find broken gear, ruined vehicles, or maybe a pristine limited edition item that someone just forgot about. Everything in here will be somewhat useful to you, but you get to decide if it's use is as a source of resources, or if something is worth fixing.The doorway takes the appearance of an expandable hula hoop that opens a portal to the pocket universe.
The pocket universe will refill with junk as you travel, or as the local area around you generates junk that will be siphoned off. In addition, if you haven't cleared out the junk universe in one jump, then you can still pick it up in another, while the junk from the new jump will slowly filter in as space is opened up.

-Black Boxing (Warhammer 40k - Squats) (200CP)
While certain red-robed rats of Mars always trying to get their grubby mechadendrites on your stuff is annoying, messing with them is endlessly entertaining. You can easily tweak your work to be nearly impossible for others to duplicate. If you're feeling particularly spiteful, you can build in some cross-connections so anyone trying will blow themselves up.

-Taylor made | Resolute Thread (Skulduggery Pleasant) (200CP)
Tailor Made (200CP)
You have the knowledge of how to weave magic into clothes, making them incredibly durable and protective. They're capable of protecting the wearer from most things, including bullets, knives, magic, extreme heat, and large amounts of blunt-force trauma. They also look damn stylish.
Resolute Thread (200CP)
You have a spool of thread that's supposedly made from the stomach lining of an Emperor Dragon over 2000 years ago. The more pressure applied to it, the stronger it becomes. You could bind a superhuman or use it to hang hundreds of tons off of the ground. Spool refills and used thread once a month.

 

[Slider Zero]

The city of Houston, Texas, has seen many an up and down over the years. Everything from natural disasters to those of a more man-made dint have graced the city over the years, as well as some of the greatest wonders to have been seen by anyone at any time.

Many of these have only grown in their legend over the years, such as the famous "eighth wonder of the world" the Astrodome. This continued even through the Parahuman age, to the point that Houston was home to arguably the most powerful member of the Triumvirate, Eidolon.

But none of these compared to the facility that sat next to Clear Lake, out in the southeastern suburbs of the city.

For here was the site of the legendary Johnson Space Center, home of the equally storied National Aeronautics and Space Agency's Mission Control. This building alone had earned Houston the moniker of "Space City USA".

It was here that all space-based activities of the United States of America were conducted and controlled, all funneled through the equally famous Mission Control center.

And so, it was here that the nation, and by extension the entire world, learned of the newest occupants of the Moon.

"This is Technical Sergeant Satori Green, United States Air Force. How you guys doing down there?"

The uproar in the control room would later be said to have been heard through the entire building.

After everyone had somewhat calmed down, the on-site controller, an old hand of the glory days of the space program (before the Simurgh had appeared and dashed all their dreams), found himself in the position of having to fudge things.

He took a moment to calm his own nerves, running a hand through the mohawk he'd had for years, before responding. "We're doing good, Mr. Green, though we do have some questions as to how you got up there."

The entire room heard the nervous chuckle come through the speakers. "Well, mostly cleaning up and expanding the old Pytheas Moonbase up and repurposing it for my own ends, among other things…oh. If Transtar tries to get on your case about this, tell them I call salvage rights, as the place was technically abandoned."

A bevy of hushed conversations broke out at that comment, and it took a bit to get people to calm down before a return transmission was sent out. "Well, that would be a little difficult, Pytheas, as there is no Transtar corporation in existence that we know of, and they definitely do not have a facility on the moon. That being said, we'd love to hear about the place since you are obviously there anyway."

A distinct sound of shuffling and movement was heard across the transmission, and everyone in the Mission Control center quickly came to the amused realization that Green had left the mic hot. The bits of commentary that followed from the other side were more than worth it.

'Somebody hit the archives for me!!' 'We already did; nothing there!' 'Still looking for it, boss!!' 'Can't we just rig something? It's NASA, right?' 'They still need receiver hardware, dummy!!' 'What about the Talos Relay?' 'Won't work, too busted. Need at least ten minutes to fix it right…'

Someone started snickering in the corner, and it spread and grew to full on laughter at someone else knowing their pain of dealing with everything that could go wrong in space.

Soon enough, though, Green came back to them. "Err…sorry about that. Had to do some digging to see what data transmission sources you guys had left…and from what I'm seeing it's not much, really. I think I can do a tightbeam transmission to you but…kind of a bad angle at the movement."

Again, the controller had to stifle his own chuckles. "Well, we're more concerned about how you managed to get up there in the first place, son. Must've been one hell of a rollercoaster to get past Ziz, now…"

There was a distinct pause, followed by a series of muttered curses, and something about needing to find a flyswatter. "Err…it's complicated, Houston. Also, potentially related to other issues you're having down there, so I can't go into details just yet. Short version is that we are possibly from a different dimension."

The general excitement level increased exponentially at that. The only other contact they had with alternate dimensions (at least prior to this mess) was Earth Aleph, and that was information only. The possibility of a traveler with space-faring technology to share was a major point, one that needed to be capitalized on as quickly as possible.

The operator kept his cool all the same. This was old hat to him, after all.

"Well, I can see why that would complicate things, then. Let's switch topics. You know why we were trying to contact you, correct?"

"I can guess it has something to do with there being an actual receiving station up here for once?"

The operator had to hand it to Green: he actually tried. Got a good laugh out of the crew, too. "Sorry, but no. We were more concerned with the light show that was happening up there recently."

There was some more muffled cursing, this time feminine. Still, it was Green that responded. "Of course you would be worried about that…right, so the incident has been resolved. I can tell you that much. As for what it was…call it cleanup. There was something weird up here that decided we would make a good target…and we dealt with it. The lightshow and explosions were part of that. Apologies for the fuss."

Another voice was suddenly heard over the comms, shouting excitedly. "BOSS!! WE CAN KILL THE STUPID BIRD!!"

The entirety of the control room froze. They couldn't mean…

'Wait, what? Without destroying everything? Send it here…holy fuck, it can work. This can actually wor–MIO WAIT DAMMIT!!'

More confused shuffling happened, and there was the distinct *whumpf* of hard contact as something got hit by the mic, hard. A louder sound of a whine of sorts echoed slightly before fading.

'Well, fuck. She's going after the bitch solo. Mandy, help me out of these!!'

There were more sounds of jostling. Followed by a resigned sigh. 'Just make sure they stay in contact, please. Need to make sure that this gets done right.' Another jostling sound, before a different voice, this one female, got on the mic. "Sorry about that, Houston. Had some things happen up here that needed to be dealt with. Anyway, back to the meat of the discussion. The base is more than available for anyone who wants to come up and take a look, and we definitely could use some permanent staff up here for things we are planning. The Boss isn't sure if we need to go through the idiots in D.C. or not, though. Any thoughts?"

Nobody could respond, as one of the girls from down in space tracking suddenly ran through the door. "We just caught sight of something happening in orbit!! We think that Ziz is–"

The poor tracking tech was silenced by a solemn control supervisor, his face clearly showing the severity of the situation. By being in a state of pure shock. "We know. We're talking to the people who are doing it."

"Hey…Houston, you guys there? Need to inform you of something real quick." yet another voice came back through the transmission. He sounded…resigned, somehow. And suspiciously like the legendary 'Buzz' Aldrin.

Many in that room right now were there, back then. He even thought he'd heard someone in the back muttering something along a question of 'Aldrin, that you?'

As always, even with the prospect of the Bitch of Feathers being removed from orbit and the path to space opening again, the operator was cool and collected, though he was now scratching at the Star designs in his haircut, a nervous tic he'd picked up years ago and hadn't quite broken yet. "Go ahead, Pytheas. We're listening."

The next words out of his mouth would be replayed around the world for years to come.

"Well...it's a bit sooner than expected…and definitely unplanned…but we're about to–excuse me, have just taken care of your orbital psychic pigeon problem."

There was pure silence. Nobody even breathed. "Can…can you repeat that, Pytheas?"

"Yes. Yes I can.

"The Simurgh is dead."

A second tech came racing into the room, holding a sheet of paper in his hand and screaming about something. Nobody paid him any mind, too lost in their own thoughts…until what he was saying registered.

"Orbital Tracking has confirmed that the thing headed this way is outbound to the Moon…and the Simurgh is GONE!!"

He said other things, the operator knew. Other words that were meaningless after that were not worth repeating. But the message was all the same.

He thought he heard someone sobbing in the background before the first cheers broke out.

---

Well, that could have happened differently.

As it turned out, NASA was rather enthused by the sudden and unexpected windfall of having the Bitch of Feathers killed off in real time by people who would be more than happy to give them access to new space technologies and even experience on a Moonbase.

I think they were happier about the Simurgh getting offed, though.

And that was the weirdest part, too. Apparently the endbringer dimensional BS was not strong enough to compensate for being drawn into an active impeller storage, and the core connection was even more fragile despite the amount of protection the physical antenna had to the body. It had created a bit of a mess when the whole dimensional overlapping thing had fallen apart without the focal point of the technique, though, and had resulted in both myself and Mio ending up playing super-quick cleanup of the orbital space before the leftover corpse pieces could vomit endbringer chunks into the atmosphere.

We did deliberately miss more than a few pieces, however, just to drive the point home that the bitch truly was dead and not coming back. At least, not without something exceptionally stupid happening, anyway.

Now, after cruising back to Luna and properly disgorging the mess from our impellers into the recycler systems of the hanger (which yielded a bunch of exotic materials of a new type and composition from the Typhon stuff, and merited further explanation) We were busy examining the leftover core.

And…it wasn't much to write home about, as far as I could tell. Sure, it had the receptors for whatever oddball technique was getting used for the standard endbringer bullshit to work, but without an active connection to work with it had jack and shit to use, and was just…there. Our attempts to pull usable data from it so far had failed to yield fruit, as well. Which was frustrating after the rather grand success of dealing with NASA.

So, we tabled it and instead got to putting together the care package that we'd be sending to them now that the orbitals were clear of interference. It was nothing too special in our books, but the contents were absolute game changers for an early 21st century world: countergrav and repulsor tech theories (and a few simplified working designs), advanced power generation systems (including workable fusion reactors) Superconductor theory and practicals, stuff like that. Of note was the one thing that Mio had insisted be included in the set, a brace of varying Imperial Lasgun Power packs, both standard issue and modified by us in varying stages.

It was enough to cause a total technology revolution the instant the science and engineering teams got a hold of them, even without the advanced material science to go with it. I'm sure that they would be thanking me for a long time to come.

Of course, aside from hearing that Jeb apparently sounded like Buzz Aldrin (there were a few people in the control center who were hardcore NASA vets, and had been there for the first landings), there was the whole 'getting the base ready for actual cohabitation' thing. Everyone was working everywhere they could to spruce the place up and make sure it was as good as it could get for guests.

The fact that we'd managed to get the bloodstains out of things in multiple areas helped.

Still, there were a few things that felt a little unnerving to me. For one, despite the fact that an endbringer had been outright erased from existence not an hour ago, the word had yet to properly spread around. And considering just how many people tended to watch the psychic chicken as she ran around, that was concerning and stank of a coverup.

Then there was the issue surrounding Pytheas (still pending rename) itself. Apparently some idiots in the government had caught on to the fact that I was Enlisted military, and wanted to use that as a means to exert pressure on me, or even outright claim the base for themselves through sending up an officer of some kind to assume command.

There was already a search underway for potential candidates, from what we were getting out of the official communications. And considering that the presence and even existence of Pytheas as they knew it wasn't even in its second hour of life, that was moving blazing fast, especially for something that would heavily impact the DoD. I could already see the beginnings of the backlash forming from those who were getting stepped on and/or leveraged to do the dirty work of some dumbass politician.

That being said, not everything was bad news. The issues on the ground were not as severe as they initially appeared to be: the originium patches that were dotted all over the place were actually rather self-contained and showed no signs of either the normal catastrophes or general spreading that was normally associated with the material, and the various terrestrial invasion attempts by demonic(?) powers were running into even harsher interference than we'd first estimated, meaning that most of the big boys were being occupied and only the minor stuff was getting through.

And people were adapting to the new normal in ways that were still being investigated properly by the various authorities. Most of the exact means of doing so were still in super-preliminary stages, but I could feel the difference just by directing my senses to the planet for a moment. People were, somehow, awakening to their innate supernatural talents. And they were using those newfound talents to take the fight back to those who would prey on them.

It was something that would need to get addressed sooner or later, especially with the parahuman wildcard still in play, but we had a bit of time to work with, at least for the moment. No need to rush things even more than we already were, after all.

The care package had been assembled, the base had been cleaned p, and now we were just trying to decide on a new name for the place. Naturally, this prompted both the Kerbals and the Fairies to chime in.

"Kaguya!" "NO!! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US KILLED!?!" "How about Selene?" "But she's not even up here, it won't hurt…" "Aldrin sounds good. You know, after the astronaut..." "Just pick something else." "If we're going there, we can call it–" "No, it won't work right. Besides, that name is reserved for the other base." "Well, maybe we could call it Nokomis?" "How about Artemis?" "You really want to name the place after her?" "I vote Yue." "Nah, Io." "But isn't that already being used for a moon of Jupiter?" "Like that matters. And it's Saturn, not Jupiter." "No, it's definitely a Jovian moon…"

Yeah, the discussion was heated.

"Still can't decide?"

Mio had, of course, managed to corner me perfectly without so much as trying, her presence being entirely too comforting for me to resist allowing it.

"Nah. Not really. It has a lot to do with the fact that most of the names are actually really good, and not just crazy stuff I can reject out of hand."

One of the Kerbals, who had taken a rare step for the non-command crew and introduced herself to us (Silmeria Kerman was her name, and daredevil piloting was her game) stopped after hearing my gripe.

"Why not just put everything into a hat, then? That way you don't have to crush people for picking a favorite."

Her fairy countepart-slash-tagalong, by the name of Lenneth, quickly voiced her agreement. "Yeah! It'll let all of the other crazier ideas filter in without stuffing people for being stupid, and then we can just agree that the name was chosen at least somewhat fairly, right?"

Mio gave me one of those nudges. The ones she usually has on hand for when she thinks that I have a good idea that I need to just shut up and implement. Being a wise husband with a wife worthy of the title, I heeded her silent counsel.

"Alright. Get everyone to toss their suggestions in a hat for us to pull out of. One name per person, whatever comes out is the new name."

The both of them were off like rockets, quickly informing the relevant people of the happenings. It wasn't much later that we had a freshly-made stetson hat of shockingly good quality for something that neither my wife nor I had participated in creating, the article flipped upside down and filled with slips of folded paper.

I quickly got everyone's attention. "Alright, guys…and girls, there's enough of you here now." The fairies got a good snickering in at this slight dig. "Time to rename the moonbase. Whatever comes out of the hat is what we get. Now then, let's see what we got going for us, eh?"

The name I pulled out kind of surprised everyone, especially as it was kind of an obscure name in most of the cultures represented here…but it was nothing that we didn't like.

"Alright then. From today forward, this base shall henceforth be known as Miakoda station!!"

The general cheering was worth it, in my opinion, even if the activity itself really wasn't that much of a big deal.


Still, with that particular formality settled, it was time to prepare for our departure down to the planet below.

At least, it was. Mio apparently had other plans, and informed me of them in her usual manner.

Whatever. They can wait a few hours…

---

Mio found herself slightly dreading heading down to Earth. It would be the very first time she had ever set foot on the planet in any sense, after all, and the sheer significance of the event for her was not to be understated. Even the fact that this was technically not her Earth, the Holy Terra of the Imperium of Man, did not remove the jitters.

Fortunately, she had her Satori with her, and he was more than enough to act as a rock for her to steady her nerves on. She'd done it enough times for him, after all.

Besides, it wasn't as if he wasn't excited himself. Being able to get direct access to the people that were effectively his personal heroes, those carrying the dream of a Humanity expanding to the very stars, was kind of a big deal for him. She could feel him all but radiating his eagerness even without their link, and the feelings were acting as quite the effective anchor for her to ground on.

It was also helping going over the recent update log for the forge, this one having come from Watts' still mysterious wife. The basic summary wasn't too much to look at, some precursor-level architectural knowledge and a bit of unusual thread being the things that stood out to her the most. Still, it was something, and from the looks of it, the update was still processing, so it would be a bit before they saw everything anyway.

That being said, both of their moods were being tested by the Air Traffic Controller, who didn't seem to have gotten the memo about their visit.

"Moonrider, I say again: You are to divert course and stand by for further instructions. Failure to comply will result in severe penalties. Confirm compliance immediately."

"As I was saying, stuck-up ATC. I knew the type of old from back in the day. They were the guys who were nearing the end of their ropes in the career, on the verge of burnout for the most part. Not all of them finally hit the flames, but enough did that it was something of a stereotype in the community."

Satori was explaining the phenomenon that they were currently being exposed to, in the form of a petty bureaucrat being faced with the rather abrupt uselessness of their jobs in the face of the unknown. Especially considering that Satori had constructed a standard IFF transponder for use to be 'seen' by the local airspace control so that there would be no accidents, and yet somehow still was getting bitched at despite coming in on a near vertical like straight towards our landing zone.

And he was not happy, as he then explained to the poor bastard in the hot seat.

"I already told you, We have special clearance for an expedited landing at Ellington. So unless I am clogging up an air lane somewhere, please leave me the fuck alone and let me set down already, you dumbass. I will be assuming a VFR profile as soon as I can shed enough speed and altitude."

"Moonrider, you are to–"

Mio couldn't take it anymore, immediately reaching out and shutting off the radio. "We aren't going to be getting any help from them at the moment, and there is no reason for you to stress yourself trying to do so. We are too new and unknown to the system for them to know how to deal with us. Let's just get on the ground, shall we?"

As much as her husband wanted to complain (and she could feel it quite clearly from him), he eventually acquiesced to her request. This was, of course, made easier by the fact that Mio was the one doing the flying. "Fine. But you get to tell the guys on the ground why the FAA is wanting to murder us."

Mio had no clue what this "FAA" was, but the fact that Satori seemed very much resigned to facing them made her assume they were some kind of government functionaries. The most she could think of was to give token platitudes to them for trying to do their jobs despite not being in the loop on their arrival, she supposed. If nothing else, it would allow for some soothed egos over what was to come next.

Landing was a very subdued affair, despite the fact that she has intentionally put their craft down in a full vertical landing on the parking zone of the flight line instead of using the runway like everyone else. It was yet another intentional flex of their capabilities, meant to show off just a hint of what was possible with the goodies they were bringing along.

Personally, she thought it was just at bit too overengineered for the task at hand, but it was meant as an example of what could be done with the tech…and they'd needed an actual transport anyway unless they planned on teaching everyone magic and such before they got back to Miakoda station.

As it turns out, despite the constant badgering from the Air Traffic Controller, there was still a small delegation waiting for them as they landed, a mixture of suits and military uniforms prominent among the small crowd, along with the rapidly expanding security cordon of soldiers that had appeared as more of the regulars noticed what was going on and tried to get a better look. Of note was the odd assortment of varied and colorful uniforms on display as well–likely these were the so-called 'capes' that tended to be about.

Personally, she was not really in the mood to try and hide from anyone, but if the locals felt it was necessary, she would allow it…for now. The instant she thought otherwise...well, the planet had a rudimentary if oddly developed global infonet, and she could make use of it if it came to that.

But that was for later, if that later came. Right now, it was time to meet the brass, as Satori would put it.

The rear hatch had been angled to face their greeting party, and a simple control on the door itself allowed for the hatch to open, complete with the standard center division allowing for the bottom portion of the hatch to act as a cargo ramp. The two of them awaited on the edge as the ramp lowered…

"Huh. I was expecting something a bit different, you know?"

The comment had come from one of the capes in the back, a man in a white outfit that featured metal points on his shoulders…and head, for some reason? And a mask covering the upper half of his face. Mio had Minerva catalog the appearance for analysis later.

Satori, for his part, merely laughed it off. "I said I was Air Force. Dunno what you were expecting aside from this." The 'this' in question was a standard olive drab Flight suit, complete with a name patch and, for him anyway, a specialty badge denoting his Military occupation. Her own flight suit was the same, but her name tag lacked the specialty badge.

Ice being broken, the pair stepped off of the (jokingly named by Satori) Owl transport and onto the planet Earth for the very first time. The Suit Delegation stepped forwards as well, and the pleasantries began, with the capes in the back attempting to be subtle about shuffling around to maintain a proper presence. As she was unfamiliar with most of the early M2 social protocols, she leaned a bit harder on Satori for support through their bond, from which she got back nothing but warm encouragement.

One of the military men, a solidly-built, dark-skinned fellow with graying, close cut curly hair similar to her husband's own and a slightly receding hairline, stopped in front of Satori, who offered him an old-fashioned salute. A closer inspection on her part confirmed that this was a US Air Force Colonel, what was nominally termed as a 'full bird', mostly due to the rank insignia worn (which was itself a bird). The colonel returned the salute while introducing himself.

"Good afternoon Sergeant. I am Colonel Nathan Gibson, in command of the Air Guard post here. With me are Majors Grainger and Parker," the colonel motioned to two others who stepped forward at being mentioned, the first a ruddy-faced man with obvious laugh-lines on his face as well as minor marks of sunburn, the second a blonde woman with oddly stern gray eyes and a professional demeanor, "As well as representatives from the Johnson Space Center down the way. I'll let them introduce themselves in a moment." There seemed to be an air of good cheer here from both the colonel and the NASA people, all of them clearly eager to learn more about what was in store.

"Also present, at the request of the Parahuman Response Teams Houston branch, are the Protectorate Members Dispatch, Grey Knight, Hawkwind, and Frostbite." Unlike the others, this introduction was rather clearly stated with a slight strain to the colonel's voice, easily heard with her enhanced senses. Her guess (which was backed up by Satori's own observations) was that the capes had more or less muscled in on the affair and everyone else was forced to accept their presence.

Mio immediately dismissed two of the four from her mind right off. Frostbite and Hawkwind were clearly not worth any further attempts at interaction from her outside of studying the parahuman phenomena in more detail. Dispatch was a different matter, as Minerva had pulled up a relevant entry on the infonet that stated that he was the second-in-command of the local Protectorate Branch, under someone who named themselves Eidolon.

The last, Grey Knight, was a completely different issue entirely and needed to be handled with care. Mostly because she could literally feel his powers from where she was standing, his internal mana flowing easily throughout his body in what looked to be a passive reinforcement technique. The relatively light and archaic armor he wore seemed to have similar mana flows attached to them, and she found herself curious as to what process was used to create the items in question, as well as if he was interested in an upgrade.

The colonel continued onwards. "That's about it for the current personnel that you will be dealing with, though I have been informed that there are some high brass en route to debrief you regarding certain information. As well, several of my colleagues, across all the services, have been given some rather hasty TDY orders to get down here ASAP, and…well, you can understand the madhouse that usually brings."

She noticed Satori visibly flinch, and a quick glance at his surface thoughts explained why: Somewhat similarly to Imperial formations, having a large number of high-ranking officers appear at a station all at once, especially if said officers were of flag rank, was almost universally seen as a bad thing by all services and ranks. Unlike an Imperial formation, however, the increased reliance on Non-commissioned officers for mid-level tactical thinking meant that having a sudden increase in officers in general was a bad thing, and made worse the higher ranked the officers got.

Which boiled down to the fact that the poor sods stationed at this airfield very suddenly and unexpectedly had an otherwise backwater post become the center of a very large amount of official attention and scrutiny. Which generally ended badly for everyone.

To his credit, the colonel was seemingly very sympathetic to the plight of those around him, and apparently didn't actually want to be disrupting things to this degree as it was…but as with all things, you didn't always get what you wanted.

Satori chose to address the issue directly. "About that, sir…why the hell are so many people getting shuttled around so fast for this? I thought that I'd made it clear that I was willing to come to you."

The colonel shrugged. "There lies the machinations of the Pentagon, Sergeant. I have no more insight on their motivations than you do. Your guess is as good as mine."

Mio decided to interrupt. "Excuse me, but you mentioned the people from NASA would be introducing themselves. I would like to know them so that we can get other things rolling, colonel."

One of the men from the NASA delegation stepped forward. He was clad in a simple dark blue business suit that had clearly seen better days, and seemed to be chewing on something as he walked forward. "My name is Scott Langley, Director here at Johnson Space Center. Alongside me are my deputies: Director of Mission Operations, Kenneth Wineland, and Director of Engineering, Lauren Johns. We also brought along Mr. Omar Hayes." The last person was somewhat unique among the others in that he was weaning a simple flight suit, and had a rather unique hairstyle that was accentuated by the (colored!) star patterns shaved into his head.

Satori took one look at him before smiling. "I take it you were the one in Control when we called in?"

Mr. Hayes returned the smile with one of his own, if a little wilder. "Yeah. The only reason I'm not out partying with everyone else is because you mentioned you were coming down." He extended a hand, which Satori immediately took. "I just had to meet the guys who finally took out the damned Simurgh, you know?"

Judging from the flinch that Director Wineland had only barely suppressed, along with the sudden interest from the cape contingent, Mio was forced to conclude that this was not meant to be public knowledge just yet, at least not to certain groups. The rather abrupt push by the one named Dispatch was proof enough, as he quickly moved himself to the front of the group, stance threatening.

"You are the ones that killed the Simurgh?" It was a demand more than a question, and Mio found her power rushing to the fore, preparing to remove the annoyance from her presence before her Satori responded.

"And if we are?"

The change in demeanor was instant. Dispatch and his subordinates were suddenly super tense, as if they were preparing for a struggle of some kind, though they hid it well…from normal people. For her, spotting the tells was pathetically easy. "I am going to have to ask you to come with me Immediately. The Protectorate will be needing a statement from you."

The commotion was immediate.

"Now wait a minute–" "Who the fuck do you think–" "You can't just do that!!--"

"QUI~ET!!"

The shout silenced all complaints, and it was with some surprise that the rest of the group noted that the shout had come from Satori himself. Worse was the deceptive calmness that he was displaying both in body and mind.

Though the Colonel seemed unsurprised. Worth looking into later.

Senator turned towards Dispatch. "So, you say that I need to go with you so that your people can ask me questions. Is this correct?"

Dispatch nodded. "We–"

Satori was immediately inside of Dispatch's personal space bubble, his hand in a knife shape and pointing directly at Dispatch's helmet. ""DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK?"

When Dispatch failed to respond, Satori repeated the question. "I said, DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK."

Mio heard a gulp come from dispatch as he steeled himself. "N-no."

"Then remain silent until otherwise instructed." Satori waited for a moment to ensure that his command would be obeyed before stepping back and continuing. "As I was saying, you wanted me to answer some questions. My question to you is just as simple: why did you think I am required to answer those questions?"

Silence reigned for a moment, and Satori smirked. "You may speak."

"We are empowered by federal law in handling all parahuman authorities. And as you have displayed a clear usage of said powers, or technology derived from the same, you are under our authority and purview."

Mio barely resisted gutting him where he stood, and restraining her aura from affecting the environment was all but impossible at this point, as was made clear by the sudden thermal spike and minor tremors. The statement was a clear and unambiguous attempt to place them in the power of the Protectorate, especially as even a cursory search revealed a particular tidbit about the nature of parahuman powers.

Satori, on the other hand, was doing his damnedest to not burst out into uncontrollable laughter. He did let a few chuckles escape, though.

The others were mostly staring at Dispatch in sheer awe, likely at the naked power grab inherent in the statement.

Satori had stopped his not-laughter at this point, though, and just from his emotions alone, she could tell that the fool was going to regret his words. "And what, if anything, makes you think that I am in any way, shape or fashion a parahuman?"

"You and your companion are rather clear cases of a Case 53." He was, of course, referring to the rather distinct and unhidden extra bits that they had, at least compared to a baseline human. The same traits that everyone else had been polite about not mentioning due to wanting to have a solid impression with the potential gold mine. "As such, you will be–"

Satori cut him off with a vengeance. "No, no, I will not. And you will shut the fuck up before I grind you into dust." And Satori was no longer happy. In fact, he was downright furious on a level that she had seen maybe once, and that was in a fucking memory. She could feel the very air around him threatening to lash out, and there had also been a distinct temperature drop in the area as well. A surreptitious mental nudge from her was enough to get him to reign in his power, but only just.

"Do you have any idea of the concept of "chain of command', Dispatch? Of having to answer to proper authorities of any kind?" Satori asked, mockingly. "I believe you do not, or else you would not be trying this little stunt of yours."

And suddenly he was in Dispatch's face again, complete with the knife hand, but now including a dramatically raised voice. "You know damn well that we are not Parahuman, or at least should have known, simply based on where we came from and the exact incidents that played out over the last few hours. And you STILL try to pull this shit?"

What followed was one of the most brutal things that Mio had ever witnessed.

Satori proceeded to, in completely unnecessary and dramatic fashion, completely tear Dispatch apart in every way possible, verbally critiquing everything from his parentage and lifestyle to his choice of occupations and even his fucking underwear. And all of it while screaming so loud that he could probably be heard across the entire base. Hell, the man she loved had somehow managed to even duplicate himself just so he could be screaming at Dispatch from no less than five different directions, each one going after a different topic, and all at the maximum possible volume.

And then he reached into Dispatch's mind for the worst things to use against him and started going after those, hammering in on every possible fear, anxiety, and even mild annoyance the fucker had with a precision and ruthlessness that was terrifying to behold.

For other people, that is. The Military contingent seemed to be doing the best they could to not laugh, and Mio herself was only just barely avoiding going in herself to tear a strip out of the asshole's hide. They were also drawing a crowd, as various onlookers came to see exactly what all the noise was about, only to see a parahuman getting chewed up one side and down the other in vivid detail.

One of the other civilians outside the security cordon mentioned something about a Smokey hat, which brought down uproarious laughter from his entire group, and that section of the security cordon as they shared in a joke of some kind.

Dispatch, for his part, tried to talk back, only to get knife hands from every direction and even more screaming. A field of some kind appeared, cutting the grouping off from the rest via some kind of twisted barrier in space-time. Minerva had some interesting things to say about the effect, at any rate…for the three seconds it was active, after which everyone came back out, the screaming (and now wild gestures) completely unabated by whatever had happened. If anything, Dispatch was the worse off for it, now attempting to curl in on himself but being prevented from doing so by Satori propping him up into a standing position, so he could yell more.

And adding critiques on that, as well.

It was quite hilarious, and most of the others watching were getting more than a few laughs out of it, even some of the NASA people.

Of course, the other idiots were not idle. The twin Idiots of Frostbite and Hawkwind were both attempting to position themselves for maximum effect, specifically to block off access from the military contingent and to curtail any "escape" attempts, respectively. Something that had fallen apart when Satori started his "counseling" session with their leader. They were now staring in shock and awe at the man getting reduced to a crying wreck before them, only prevented from intervening by the fact that Mio was psychically holding them in place, mostly so that she would not have to kill them for trying to harm her beloved.

Grey Knight was the outlier, looking extremely tense at the building atmosphere, and giving both Mio and Satori wary eyes. Mio's guess was that she felt the surge of power when their emotions rose, and realized what he was dealing with long before his bosses did. And, much like many a good subordinate, he had no way to stop the trainwreck that didn't involve falling on his own sword to save the idiots creating the mess in the first place. Which, from his body language, he was not about to do.

Mio considered him extremely wise for that. And kept him out of the stasis as a subtle reward.

Still, the situation begged a question. She stepped towards Grey Knight, who looked like he would be the most amicable towards answers. "Tell me, exactly what did you hope to accomplish by being here?" she asked, at least somewhat politely. Which was an interesting thing to do, seeing as she still had to be heard over the screaming.

"Our mission was supposed to be as a liaison and meet-and-greet for some high-priority VIPs that Director Danners had informed us about. Past that, we were supposed to listen in, attempt to confirm parahuman involvement, and if so, contact the PRT for further instructions if friendly, or capture and subdue if hostile."

Mio considered it for a moment. "And this was not supposed to be a massive powergrab by your PRT in an attempt to solidify their position? Especially since it is known that parahuman powers do not persist beyond the atmosphere? Let alone on the moon itself? The transmission we were using was not exactly encoded in any way, and any receiver could have picked it up when we were transmitting. You know full well that we were operating in space. We made no secret of it, and this is, in fact, why the NASA people are here in the first place. So why did your leader attempt to strong-arm the situation on a known military serviceman who is completely outside of your jurisdiction?"

Grey Knight, for his part, shrugged. "I honestly don't know, ma'am. The way things were working out, I was taking cues from my team to be ready for a fight, I seriously didn't want one with either of you, but…"

Mio chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hold it against you. Besides, there were some other things that I needed to talk to you about as well, most pressingly about the fact that you are not a parahuman at all, at least not by the legal or medical definition."

Grey Knight looked like he had seen a ghost. "I have no clue what you are talking about, ma'am. I am very much a parahuman–"

"No, you are not. You do not possess either of the specialized brain tumors that the others have. Your powers are a direct result of your awakening to something else entirely, and is the reason why your power are so wildly divergent from the norm for most. Especially in the fact that you have been getting stronger over time. I'm sure your theorists are going nuts with that, by the way."

Grey Knight only nodded, somewhat defeated at the ease in which he was being dissected.

Mio nodded to herself. "Very well, then. In the name of cooperation, I would like to invite you to be an attendant crew member at Miakoda Station."

There was a wave of shock that rippled across the representative delegation, even as Satori continued his merciless berating of Dispatch.

Grey Knight hesitated for a moment. "Do you…mind if I think about it for a bit? This is a major decision, after all, and well…"

Mio considered the most obvious issues for a brief (for her) moment, and quickly moved to remove the worry. "If you are thinking about your family, don't woory too much. We can bring them along too, if you want." Mio turned to the others. "The same goes for you guys as well. Anyone who is accepted for heading up with us can, if they choose, bring along their families. I think it would be a good experience for everyone, after all. If you don't want to, please let one of us know as soon as possible."

Col. Gibson broke the shock. "This Miakoda Station, is…?"

"The new name of what you probably are referring to as Pytheas. We renamed the place, since we'd done so much in the way of renovations. We'd intended to explain it, along with some other things, after the introductions were done, and we'd gotten to somewhere where a proper meeting could take place, but…" Mio waves a hand at the still restrained capes and the now openly bawling Dispatch, who is still being screamed at by Satori.

The colonel merely nodded in acknowledgement. "I am assuming that we will receive more details later on, then."

"That is correct, colonel. If you are ready," this last part was pitched to include the others as well, "we can begin now."

Col. Gibson took one last look around, before nodding his assent, which was mirrored by Director Langley. Grey Knight accepted as the de-facto Protectorate liaison, seeing as his comrades were still incapacitated.

The group then proceeded to move to a previously designated meeting space, leaving behind two capes still held in a stasis field (that would wear off…eventually) and a thoroughly traumatized Dispatch, who was only just now getting out of getting smoked into the floor by Satori, who left the wreck of a man to his own devices as he followed the group.

No one in the surrounding crowd paid the parahumans any mind.

---

The meeting space was a simple office nestled inside one of the secure hangars on site, and was fully equipped with teleconferencing equipment to get the rest of the important people who couldn't be there in person. There were enough seats for everyone involved, even Grey Knight, whom Mio insisted sit with us for the meet, despite his not having formally accepted her offer.

Of course, we both knew better. Grey Knight was about as close to a complete shoo-in as we were going to get, crew-wise, and would be quite useful in the training programs we'd want to implement as well.

Still, that was something for later. Right now, we had to deal with the usual politics and other BS.

There was a delay while a few fiddly bits got set up regarding connections, but eventually the various video calls were connected, revealing the images of several key personnel, notably of the type usually based in Washington.

Still, it was basically my meeting, so I'd have to start things off. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we all know why we're here, so let's get to it. I'll cede the floor to the Colonel for now, unless anyone else has something pressing to add?"

There were no objections, so Col. Gibson took center stage. "Very well, sergeant. I'll start off on our end. You have been introduced to everyone here in this room, but there are several others that could not make the trip down in person, and requested to be involved.

"First is the President, Raymond Gillen, who wished to speak to you regarding matters. With him are the current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, General Blake Cummins, as well as his support staff. The Secretary of Defense was unavailable to participate, though he does send his regards."

I perked up at the mention of what was effectively the top end of the chain of command sitting in personally instead of letting the colonel handle things. I suspected there were other things at play for this, but kept my curiosity for the moment.

"Also with us are the Chief Administrator of NASA, a Ms. Wendy Hearthstone, who requested to be here as an observer. Something about history and whatnot." There was a general chuckle shared across the room and beyond, considerably lightening the atmosphere, before the Colonel continued. "Alongside we have Donald Anderson, Chief of DARPA, and Art Renner from the NASA Jet Propulsion Labs, who both requested to be present for any technical demonstrations."

"Finally, we have the Chief Director of the Parahuman Response Teams, Rebecca Costa-Brown, who I am informed insisted on being present. I apologize for the late addition."

I waved it off. "No issues. I was going to need to make a few points anyway. Might as well do it to her face, so to speak." My tone was deceptively mild, but those of us who had (or were still) wearing uniforms caught the meaning all too clearly: I was aware of the reasoning behind Costa-Brown butting her head in, and was not amused.

At all.

"Introductions complete, I now hand the floor to the President. Mr. President?"

President Gillen nodded, his face taking up the majority of the viewscreen. "Thank you, colonel. Sergeant Green, Mrs. Green," I could distinctly feel Mio's happiness at hearing that, "On behalf of the United States of America and the world at large, I would like to formally thank you for your contributions today. You have ended a threat long in its shadow, and as a result the world can now sleep a little safer, knowing that no more of the Simurgh's machinations haunt the future. We are in your debt." There was a solemn pause at the end from all parties.

I filled the silence after a moment. "You are more than welcome, Mr. President. I am just glad that the method we used was so effective in dispatching the feathered bitch. I was worried we'd have to break out the big guns for that one."

Several heads perked at hearing that, the interest in the weapons capable of damaging an Endbringer clear to see. "I'll elaborate on those later, however."

The President barked out a short laugh. "I'll hold you to that. Sergeant, but first, I believe that General Cummins had something to add in."

The General took focus on the screen. "Thank you, Mr. President. Now then, sergeant, it was mentioned that you may have had some technology that was of significant military import. What exactly were you referring to?"

Mio was already pulling out the Box, having retrieved it from her storage before we began the meeting. I motioned to it as I spoke. "Well, most of what I have at the moment is primarily meant for NASA to play with, but there are indeed things there that could see some use if developed in the appropriate directions." I gestured to the DARPA chief, who nodded back at my notice that they would inevitably be involved in whatever gets cooked up. "That being said, what we did bring down as demonstrators were…significant. Most of it is either propulsion systems or power generation and batteries technology, but I do have a project that I'm working on that is a fairly streamlined form of quantum computing, though it's in the early stages at the moment. It's based somewhat on an extension and expansion of the old holographic storage concept, for those of you in the know."

The various nods from the more technical minded confirmed that they had been still exploring the concept even here., so I moved on. "As for the propulsion stuff, it's primarily a form of relatively cheap and energy-efficient counter-gravity technology, along with a similarly developed repulsor system that could be potentially used as a thrust mechanism with a little work. We already have a variant design in the works for that one that is still in testing, so we'll get back to you when we have results."

The NASA people were staring googly-eyed at me as if I had just said Santa was real.

"Also included are notes and technical schematics on several forms of power generation, with a focus on fusion power, including a variant that, while a bit difficult to implement, allows for power generation well beyond anything that conventional fusion is capable of. We would have brought a demonstrator, but the size factors involved precluded this. The other stuff, like the collar cells and the theory behind them, are included here, along with some samples."

"As for the battery tech, well…this shit has to be seen to be believed."

I pulled out the portable holoprojector and set it in the middle of the table, then set the playback to the battery tests we'd run on the Imperial Power packs. Included very prominently was the practical examples of the packs being able to gain significant charge from damn near anything up to and including a goddamn campfire, and still function. Also included was the differences between the 'base' specification of the power pack as implemented on Necromunda, the actual STC standard version (which was superior in all ways), and the variants that Mio and I had cooked up, that were varying levels of superior in certain categories from the STC counterpart, clearly showing what could be improved and how.

The looks on people's faces were priceless.

"Also in this nice box here is some stuff related to superconductor theory, along with practical examples thereof. I am well aware of how much of a pain in the ass those are to work with, and the designs here are meant for multiple applications, including three designs for RTSC's and at least one that I'd worked out that is workable in more…hostile environments. I leave it to you to determine how to work with that."

"The final contents of this nice box here is a grab-bag of various alloys and compounds that might be useful, along with notes on the composition and possible methods to create them. Note that this may take some time due to industrial needs, but aside from that feel free to go nuts."

The room was deadly silent. NASA and the DARPA reps were completely starstruck, and Ms. Hearthstone was all but vibrating in her seat even through the monitor. JPL's reaction was even more amusing, as the feed there was visibly muted, and there was obvious shouting and celebrations going on as the mere existence of some of this stuff solved so many issues they'd had prior to now.

General Cummins had somehow managed to keep his cool, despite his subordinates on his end of the screen (and the Colonel and Majors on ours) all but gaping at the implications involved in just that box alone. He somehow kept himself a very cool customer, even in the face of massive technical advancement staring them in the face, and his own clear excitement at the possibilities inherent within, which I considered quite the achievement.

I liked the guy already.

The one holdout was Costa-Brown, who had a distinctly neutral expression on her face, one that was completely at odds with everything going on in this meeting. Mio noticed it as well, and was almost immediately on guard for shenanigans based solely on the fact that she wasn't celebrating.

I set Thoth into research mode to figure out why, before continuing. "I believe that these, with a little R&D work, should be more than sufficient for you to work up something interesting for use, particularly in reviving the space program. Past that, the sky is the limit."

"Please excuse me, but there is reason to believe that this may be some form of Tinkertech, and thus needing your personal involvement in the maintenance and upkeep thereof. We at the PRT would have to do thorough testing to ensure that this is not the case before allowing–"

"Lemme stop you right there, Costa-Brown." I cut in. "I know you head me mention that the technical schematics were included with all of this, and on a personal note, my own background as a technical specialist completely precludes me from trying to hoodwink people on this scale. Take your attempt to butt in and kindly stuff it. If you want access to the tech, talk to NASA or the DoD. I'm already pissed off enough with your organization as it is. Do NOT make it worse."

My glare at the screen now having Costa-Brown's face on it was NOT kind in the slightest. Costa-Brown, for her part, stared right back as if nothing was amiss. "Regardless of your statements or feeling on the matter, we at the PRT are directly responsible for all matter parahuman and as such will need to vet all technology applications to ensure that they comply with relevant federal law. This is non-negotiable and you will comply."

I stared at the screen, barely containing my shock at the sheer gall being displayed here, before changing my line of sight to the window displaying the President. There was no change in his demeanor, though it seemed very forced. I then glanced at Gen. Cummins, who subtly shook his head.

And a picture painted itself in my mind. This Costa-Brown Character, despite only being the director of a law enforcement agency covering a very specific and equally well-defined category of persons, was somehow able to amass enough political capital that she was able to completely step on the turf of the second most important governmental department of the United States with no repercussions whatsoever.

Mio, as always attuned to my moods, was already working with the agreed-upon contingency and contacting the appropriate people. I stalled for a brief moment to let her do her thing, before continuing on.

"Costa Brown. I do believe you are out of line."

The whipcrack that went through the room was almost audible at my response, and I noted several people moving to speak all at once, including the President.

I did not let them.

"No, all of you shut up. I don't want to hear it. I just watched this woman here completely steamroll every last one of you with a single sentence like she was entitled to it, despite it being blatantly clear that I nor anything I have to offer should not fall under her purview. Last I checked, Mr. President, The PRT was a federal agency and under your final command, correct? And the Department of Defense in general held primacy over enlisted and officer personnel?"

Of course, Costa-Brown refused to back down. "Regardless of what you think, this is what will happen. I will also require you to speak with the local PRT branch as soon as possible regarding your contact with the Simurgh, and to undergo Master/Stranger protocols as appropriate. Otherwise, we may be forced to brand you as a potential threat vector, and respond appropriately."

Mio finished her setup, and the holoprojector image immediately changed again, this time to an office occupied by a man in a suit.

A Mexican Flag was clearly visible in the background.

"Buenos Dias. I am President Julian San Marcos. You mentioned you were having some trouble with our American counterparts?"

Mio smiled at the man. "Some trouble with the PRT regarding jurisdiction and control. I trust you have reviewed the packet we sent?"

The Mexican President brightened noticeably. "But of course, señora. We would be more than willing to host you and yours if the PRT insists on turning you away. We can implement anything you need as you need it, just let us know."

You could hear a pin drop in the room, the gauntlet clearly having been thrown down in regard to the PRT interference. Most of those present were looking at us with shocked (and in one particular case, downright terrified) eyes, all but watching their big score walking out the door because one of their number couldn't accept that she would not be the one calling the shots.

President Gillen tried to regain control of the situation. "Sergeant, I do not think that will be necessary–"

I cut off the President of the United Stated of America. " I believe it is, in light of the continued insistence of the PRT, and it's leadership, to assert authority in a situation where they have none."

"I came here with the intent to spread around the good news about the Simurgh, and to provide technology and opportunities for NASA to get back into the space exploration gig. I had also intended to liaise with the Department of Defense regarding their participation in this matter, as well as access to certain potential technologies that they would find interesting. I intended to do this solely out of goodwill, with my only requested concession being a favorable recommendation for setup of certain business ventures relevant to these ends."

"As things are currently, I am being forced to consider alternatives to my previous plan, and instead set up in a favorable location in Mexico, complete with offering them whatever they need to meet my standards of approval for housing personnel on Miakoda Station."

Thoth pinged me back with a blurb of information that I assimilated instantly…and brought me a bit of surprise as I considered the implications of the data. It did give me an idea to use, however.

"But, since it is clear that not even the President of the United States is capable of reining in his own Chief PRT director, I will offer a compromise." I turned back to Costa-Brown. "You say you are worried about our exposure to the Simurgh, correct? I will agree to undergoing your screening under two conditions:

"First, all of the tech contained within the Box will be studied and vetted by non-PRT sources as to their usability and reliability, and their status as tinkertech. They are literally the most knowledgeable people in the world regarding the subject, and can farm out to other agencies as appropriate."

Costa-Brown seemed to relax a bit, and I smirked. Gotcha Bitch.

"The second stipulation is related to the exposure limits of Simurgh engagements, which I have done some research on. The standard for exposure is…20 minutes, correct?"

Costa-Brown nodded.

"Then I propose that your Triumvirate, specifically Alexandria, be held for time proportional to their exposure to the Simurgh as well. And before you start thinking to be smart, I will note that our total exposure to the range of the Simurgh is six point four two one seconds. I will be requiring that every Hour of holding for screening be measured against that chunk of time and applied to the total exposure for your people."

"Oh, and before I forget, this applies solely to American agencies and organizations. The Mexican government is its own entity and will be treated as such with regard to any tech sharing prospects."

For the first time, I finally understood the concept of silence being violent. It was very much the case in that room at that moment. My smirk only got more vicious as I saw Costa-Brown suppress the normal motor functions that would indicate her shock…and her rage.

Thing is, the Force is bullshit, psionically amped up force stuff even more so. Focusing on her, even with us being so far away, allowed me to get a good read on her mental state, and all the confirmation I needed for the conclusion that Thoth had come to based on the available data.

'Hello, Alexandria. So nice to meet you, too.'

The message got through as intended. The bitch was pissed as fuck, but she knew I held all the cards and was more than willing to burn every bridge to see her burn if it came to it.

So, of course, she quickly changed tacks. "I see. In that case, in light of your…protracted engagement time, I see no need to subject you to Master/Stranger screening at this time. We would still like to speak to you regarding the Simurgh and the details of the encounter, but understand that you have other priorities."

General Cummins burst out laughing. It was a jolly thing from such a man, but was welcome all the same. It was nearly a full minute before he calmed enough to speak. "See, that is the backbone of an NCO right there. Any doubts I had that you were one of ours, regardless of where you came from, are gone. Good job, Sergeant."

President Gillen finally managed to pick his jaw up off the floor (metaphorically, anyway) to regain some semblance of order. "Very well, if that has been settled?"

Mio decided to twist the knife, "One more thing, Mr. President. In light of recent events, I feel that we must now insist on a total cooperation in terms of technical advancement and resource sharing between the United States and Mexico considering the Box. To prevent international incidents, of course." She added, almost as an afterthought.

President San Marcos could not have been happier.

---

The nitty-gritty of the meeting had concluded, with us having turned over the Box and it's contents to the local NASA personnel, along with a formal request for volunteers for stays at Miakoda Station. The same had been pitched to Gen. Cummins, who noted that he would get his people working on it ASAP and have a list ready to use.

Shockingly enough, the separate listing of potential replacements for me on Miakoda seemed to vanish overnight after word of how poor Becky got handled spread. Seemed that nobody wanted to risk my ire, especially when I'd made it clear that I played international hardball.

That being said, the response to our having formally requested Grey Knight (and only Grey Knight) as a Protectorate Liaison was…muted. People probably suspected ulterior motives, but nobody could prove anything., nor did they actually want to.

And so, meeting over, I found myself standing before Colonel Gibson at his request regarding a matter he said was sensitive. Mio was leaning on a wall nearby, doing some people watching, while she checked out Bet's internet and set up the initial sites for the manufacturing bases in Mexico.

"Alright, Colonel, what's so important you had to get away from the PRT oversight to ask about?"

Gibson snorted out a laugh. "Thought you would pick up on that. Anyway, there are two matters that I needed to address. The first is regarding a hunch of mine that I need confirmed: Your abilities…you can teach them to others, can't you?"

I actually blinked at that question. God DAMN this man is good.

"...I won't deny it, but how the hell did you even come to that conclusion in the first place? Especially with the preponderance of parahuman BS going on?"

A small smirk spread across the Colonel's face. "General observation and experience, son. Also, I overheard your wife speaking to Grey Knight, and put some pieces together. So…second point is somewhat related, as the brass has tapped me on this subject to ask what it's going to take to get access."

Now it was my turn to smirk. "Well, aside from waiting a bit for me to make the offer, that you have now beaten me to? I need to screen the recruits. Not everyone is going to be qualified for what I have to teach, Colonel, and I fully intend to create an instructor core out of these guys so that they can teach everyone else."

I waited until I saw the full implication of what I had just said had sunk in. "This world… parahumans have taken over entirely too much to be safe, and they are unstable at the best of times. My dressing down of Dispatch is proof enough of that, really. I got worse than that in Basic, but he all but shattered under the strain. Do you really want those people having power while the rest of the world does not?" It was a rhetorical question and we both knew it.

"Besides, there is a second factor. Grey Knight was kind of unexpected, but it proves that people can awaken their own latent talents and use them without any formal training, and most will think that it was just a nonstandard trigger. These people both can and will be invaluable in stemming the tide of parahumans later on, especially the crazy fucks rolling around."

Gibson could only chuckle to himself. "Damn. This is excellent. More than I could have asked for, really. Makes what I am about to do all the more justified."

And, to my shock, The colonel came to attention. "Attention to Orders."

It was pure reflex that I obeyed the command. I felt Mio' attention shift over to me for a moment, curiosity in her mind.

"Technical Sergeant Satori Green, it is with great honor and humility that we recognize your accomplishments and contribution to the Armed Forces, both in word and deed. Your skills have been proven to the satisfaction of the President and the Joint Chiefs, to such a degree that an exceptional merit is required."

He then pulled out a very familiar piece of paper, along with a small box, "Please raise your right hand and repeat after me: I, state your name, having been appointed a Warrant Officer in the United States Air Force…"

---

This…this changed a lot.

The US Air Force had done away with its Warrant Officer corps back in the sixties, citing a lack of need due to having the senior enlisted ranks of Senior and Chief Master Sergeant. It had held for decades, despite having a distinct crisis regarding availability of pilots and the lack of commissioned officers to fly them.

And yet, here, on Earth Bet, the Air Force was willing to reinstate the Warrant Officer Corps, starting with myself, as a means of both retaining my awesome technical expertise…and as a note for the future corps of those who would follow in my footsteps as wielders of their innate talents.

I was literally being asked to create and train a corps of combat mages for the Air Force, along with my other duties in all areas technical. It was kind of surreal, but I was getting over it quickly.

"So, what does this mean, exactly?" Mio asked me, lightly draping herself onto my shoulder.

I took a moment to steady myself before answering.

"It means we have our jobs cut out for us."

She was silent for a moment.

"Very well. I will activate the Tower, and get started on some training plans. You, on the other hand, have to go through a service school, I believe?"

I shrugged. "Supposedly there is a waiver in place or similar due to the circumstances, or at least while the rest of the Air Force absorbs the change and figures out what the hell a Warrant Officer School is supposed to look like. In the meantime, I'm kind of just here, and only a mere WO1 instead of the intended rank that had been authorized for me, but that is bureaucracy for you."

Because the Military definitely had bureaucracy, even if it was far more efficient than it's normal governmental counterparts. This, of course, meant that my actual rank of Chief Warrant Officer 5 was being delayed until I checked off the boxes, despite the general agreement that I had more important things to be doing and the fact that this was coming directly from the President and the Joint Chiefs themselves, with the Secretary of the Air Force being read in even now, and Congress being rustled to put their required stamp of approval on the decision.

The thought brought a light peal of laughter to my lips. Some things truly never changed.

That being said, what Mio was suggesting activating was kind of a big deal: it was part of the ongoing updates in the Forge log that Watts was still crunching through, and based on the notes was the equivalent of the same facility seen on SR388: a Chozo-made Weapons and technology testing center complete with automated test robots to perform all the work. The interesting part was that this version came fully stocked with all the modifications that we would have wanted to be applied already effected, and would be ready for anything we could throw at it from day one.

This didn't add in to the other thing that came through the pipe that changed everything.

Because included in the update was the distilled knowledge of a true and fully-trained Device Meister…along with everything that meant. We were going to have to redo the Computation orb designs again, but this time it would be worth it–

An error message popped up in my HUD before a spike of pain burned itself into my back. It was bad, but not horrible, so I was more than capable of keeping my wits as it burned itself into my back. A light gasp from Mio confirmed she was feeling the same pain, and was equally handling it.

I quickly forced myself into the forgescape to figure out what was going on, only to be met directly by a woman I assumed was Watts' wife. At least judging by looks.

"No time to explain, just PUSH!!"

I pushed, and a malicious black mass of something was summarily ejected from the forgescape, leaving behind an odd residue that was quickly cleaned up and contained…but it was clear that it had left its mark. Parts of the forge seemed to be glitchy, and inactivated nodes were looking downright corrosive compared to their normal cheery counterparts.

I turned to the woman to ask for an explanation, but she beat me to the punch.

"That thing was a remnant from your run-in with the big black mass that tried to corrupt you before. It acted like a sort of trojan horse, seeking out and attempting to destroy the forge itself through corrupting your soul. We were able to isolate most of it, but then some kind of failsafe activated and, well, this happened. The damage…we'll have to get back to you on that part, but you should be able to activate at least one more set of nodes before we take things offline for a bit to do some cleanup. Shouldn't affect usage of things already on and imprinted, but the rest…I'm not sure what we can save, if anything. We'll let you know."

She quickly stepped towards me, and then gave me one of the most intense kisses I'd ever gotten from anyone that wasn't Mio–wait a minute–

"Take care of her. And don't forget to take care of yourself as well. I'll see you soon."

And I was gently pushed out of the forgescape and back into normal waking reality, but with a very weird question on my mind.

Why the hell was Watt's wife kissing me that hard…and why was she Mio?

---

---

Yep. This actually happened.

No, I am not sorry.

For those of you confused by events, this is a nice way of letting me get a perk out of my queue and slow down rolls for a bit while I focus the story on other things going on. It's about to get Crazy, yo.

Spoiler: Perks for this chapter

Perks for this Chapter (note: not all of them are mentioned yet)

-Bonesinger (Warhammer 40K - Craftworld Eldar Jumpchain) (400CP)
Dear child, the Eldar do not simply build their wondrous technology. Instead, they rely on the power of song to shape their creations into being. This is a very demanding process, which requires a unique mix of artistic and scientific knowledge. Most importantly of all, a strong mind is necessary for this process. Bonesingers sing a psychic song, and its melodies form a psychoactive material from the warp itself, called Wraithbone. This lightweight material is stronger than titanium but is far more flexible and weighs less. Additionally you can psychically grow crystals that are the basis of their laser & lance technology. You have the knowledge and ability to sing any Eldar technology and any technology you know into being and more than that, eons of experience in doing so. Even so, the more complex an item is, the more time it takes to create said item. A whole choir of Bonesingers is required to create large and complex items such as starships and Eldar Titans unless you are willing to sing alone for years. With enough time, perhaps, you could even sing forth a brand-new Craftworld but how and where would you acquire that much time? Even an Eldar is not immortal.

"Minor" Infection (Special)
You came to Ragol aboard Pioneer I, and you were one of the first to be exposed to Dark Falz. You were able to escape, but not before being infected by DCells. Thankfully, your situation wasn't quite as bad as poor Heathcliff's, and you avoided telling anyone about your issue. The signs of this encounter are obvious to anyone who knows where to look—it could be anything from a curious tattoo to a festering wound, but it won't significantly impact your life.
That doesn't mean you escaped unchanged, though. You find yourself capable of working powerful illusions over an area. You can convince people there is a spire where nothing stands, or that they're walking on green grass as they step on a field of crushed skulls. As soon as the world fails to match up between two of their senses the illusion will break, though, and you can't do much about touch. You get additional effects based on the other perks you've purchased.
(this is a capstone booster).

Walk Towards the Light Dr. Osto's Successor
You've gained an unnatural understanding of how D-Cells interact with other organisms and technology, in large part because you yourself are now something of a D-Cell organism. Creating Mags, alternate lifeforms, D-Cell based weaponry, Artificial Intelligence, all these things are within your grasp. Given enough time and effort, you might even be able to surpass Dr. Osto himself and create Mags with greater limits, or none at all, or lifeforms surpassing anything seen on Ragol. Just reaching Dr. Osto's level will require a lot of work though, and surpassing it much more. Perhaps you can find his notes, to help you along?

-Nullspace Computer (Megas XLR) (100CP)
You have a computer tower you can summon from and banish to nullspace. allowing you to upgrade it but otherwise keep it safe. You may summon a holographic interface for it at will.
* Massive upgradable supercomputer that can be kept safe by existing outside reality and simultaneously be used due to its holographic interface making it an extremely useful item which benefits from all abilities which improve its performance while being entirely tamper proof.

-Neoalchemist (The Glass Scientists) (200CP)
Invisibility serums, subtle poisons, superspeed formulae, if the Victorians ever imagined it could be done with chemistry, you can do it.

-Tenebrium Basics | Tenebrium Mine (Divinity - Original Sin) (800CP)
Tenebrium Basics (200CP)
Tenebrium is an odd mineral. It grows like a crystal, but can be melted and forged like iron. It is easily enchanted, but highly resistant to other kinds of magic. In addition, it is highly dangerous and inflicts a disease known simply as Rot upon all those who handle it in any form. Worst of all, Rot cannot be cured by simple magical spells, requiring rare and powerful artifacts to cleanse the infected. Most cannot afford such things and slowly wither over the months following handling a single chunk of crystal. But with this perk, you have come to understand how to safely handle Tenebrium without infecting yourself.
Tenebrium Mine (600CP)
Tenebrium is an utterly useful material, for all that it is also incredibly dangerous to handle. Still, considering all its uses, one can hardly be blamed for desiring to have a steady supply of the crystal on hand. The Tenebrium Mine attaches directly to your Cosmic Warehouse and takes the form of a traditional mining tunnel about a hundred feet deep. Inside one will find a few dozen crystals of Tenebrium growing, each large enough to produce a single ingot when smelted. Once harvested new crystals will slowly grow in their place over the course of a week. The mine is also capable of producing other metals, crystals, and even gemstones if given a sample of such material. These will form in veins along the walls of the tunnel, but grow much more slowly. Exotic metals will form at a rate of one ingot every two weeks and crystals will produce roughly the same amount. Gemstones seem to be easier and the mine will produce a collection of small stones that will fill a cupped hand in a week. Normal metals, like gold and silver, can also be produced at a rate of one ingot per week. An ingot here refers to enough material to forge a traditional longsword with.

 

[Slider Zero]

The Forge World of Ryza was buzzing with excitement and industry. The revelation of the Miracle being borne by the Sisters of Battle had set the local Mechanicus into frenzied activity, the STC that had been delivered unto them being immediately put to use as the Grand Forges across the planet were upgraded and reforged anew in proper form. Likewise, the latest and deadliest marks of Imperial weaponry were rolling off of the newly improved and automated assembly lines, complete with armor to match, utilizing materials long thought lost to time.

So much change and progress that had occurred in the months following their arrival. And all of it was completely uninteresting to Harrisyn Cain, formerly of the Imperial Inquisition, as he stood with an Archmagos of Ryza's forges as the Magos pointed out the latest improvements. They were overlooking the final commissioning of the newest of the grand forges on the planet, this one set to produce the most advanced of components for the newly reworked and far more reliable plasma weaponry, as well as the ever deadly volkite weapons. Three more were planned, to add to the other forges that had been upgraded to standard in the frenzy of activity.

The Magos himself was equally upgraded, the vast majority of his cybernetic implants and augmentations having been completely redone to take advantage of the newly rediscovered techniques and technologies, and while he was still far more man than machine, the aesthetic was far more pleasing to the eye for the unaugmented.

Harry had been using this place as an overlook for some time, now, especially with the vast majority of the work being undertaken on the planet going completely above his head. Nothing else actually required his presence, and he was actively detrimental to any causes by poking into the local branch of the Inquisition or even the planetary governance. Worse still, even his practicing with magic was becoming a dull thing meant solely to pass the time, despite his exponentially increasing lethality when doing so.

He knew the reason, too. He missed his friends. They had, against his own wishes, managed to grow enough on him that he was willing to actually refer to them as friends and not just some random useful acquaintance. Which meant that his worry for them was all the more significant, despite knowing full well that the pair were still alive and fighting the good fight.

Interestingly, he was not alone in his concern. The Sisters of battle, despite having been in the thick of things with his friends, seemed to hold a solid opinion of them overall, though that group was, by their own admission, a bit more flexible in their zealotry than most who served as the brides of the Emperor, with their particular faction of the Sororitas (or, at least, their particular mission, as it seemed that the team were quite comfortable together) viewing their duty to the imperium in different light than most would, with a focus on the safety of the people of the Imperium instead of merely being the cleansing flame against his enemies.

Harry himself was not surprised. He himself was a rather unorthodox Inquisitor, as much as it could be said that orthodoxy was a thing in the Inquisition, and found his own way to carry out his duties as he saw them. He would not begrudge those still loyal and untainted their personal methods, provided they remained as such in the eyes of the Emperor.

"It would seem you are enjoying yourself, Harrisyn."

Harry didn't bother turning around. Sister Rikah was very much like that with people, preferring to sneak around and be unnoticed rather than make a fuss, a habit that was only enhanced by her gaining the odd piece of technology she had from Lady Granliss.

And yet despite all of this, she intentionally made sure that Harry stayed informed despite his never once aching for it in any capacity, something that only served to consider her even more than before.

The fact that she had taken to moving around the facilities opened to them in her standard vestments (and Harry was still wondering where she got a hold of those) instead of her armor was likely the reasoning for people lowering their guard.

Harry knew better.

"Is that what it looks like to you, young lady? I had assumed that my attempts to bore the poor man with mindless babble were working to distract him."

The reply had come from the Magos, and rather unexpectedly at that. The shock of both of the other parties at his statement only caused him to chuckle lightly. "What, you expected me to be more focused on the renewal efforts of our humble forge world, I take it? More concerned with matters of the Mechanicus than the people who made all of this possible?"

He didn't even bother waiting for a response. "Naah. I have seen much in my time, and will likely see even more as I go. All of this," he waved at the expanse of facilities sprawled across the area, "is interesting, of course, but you lot are more so…especially since I began discussing things with the Lady."

Harry blinked for a moment before subtly placing himself on guard. Rikah did the same, just as subtly flexing her impeller without actually expressing her frame.

Which brought a warm, throaty laugh to the Magos' lips, even as he watched them prepare to face him in battle. "Now, none of that. This is no chaos taint, Inquisitor. Of that, I can assure you."

Noting the sudden shock on both Harry and Rikah's faces, he could only smile wider. "Yes, she told me of these things as we spoke. Mentioned that you and yours are currently carrying her favor as well, as she works to undo some of the more annoying things happening around the Imperium."

"And to prepare for the inevitable coming of darkness, of course."

Harry once again found himself confused and out of sorts, but since the Magos was speaking… "Very well, then. Tell me everything you know."

---

Alaya huffed in frustration. That man…

Yes, Harrisyn Cain was a very shrewd Inquisitor, and one of the few that was loyal to the Imperium as a concept rather than the mess that was the Ecclesiarchy, but even then his paranoia…getting around that was proving to be annoying without having a means of confirming his suspicions.

However, right now she was busy doing other things of greater import. The myriad Shards of the Emperor were still scattered far and wide, and despite her best efforts in collecting them, she still didn't have enough to allow for the Astronomican's light to maintain itself for long enough to actually fix the problems that the idiot had caused. The Custodes were fighting ever valiantly at the Infinity gates, even gaining ground against the unceasing hordes as they made use of her blessings, but it wasn't enough…they would need to fix the breach in the webway before anything more could be done, and that would take both time and effort that was currently unavailable to her.

Yes, the Half-Eldar children floating around the galaxy were more than willing to lend their aid, but many of them were in positions where their going missing would cause a stir greater than the benefit of their assistance would grant. And while she could, in theory, do it herself, as she was technically just as connected to the forge as her parents were, she was still stretched far too thin to do much other than hold the line.

A slight cough drew her attention, and she turned to see the form of Saint Celestine. The Living Saint had quickly returned to Terra upon hearing the pained screams of the Emperor, and had arrived soon after, only to find Alaya standing watch over humanity as a whole in his place.

The attempts by Celestine to remove her from her position were amusing, though, even as she drew more and more power from Alaya herself to perform the deed. Despite this, it only took mere months for Celestine to witness the truth with her own eyes, and she was now working tirelessly to accomplish Alaya's goals.

One of which involved a bit of a failsafe that Atham had set up.

"Lady Alaya, I have brought the child. Do you wish to speak with him?"

Alaya only barely restrained her mirth. Celestine refused to relax around her for any reason, and the desire to laugh and cuddle the poor soul was strong…but she had other tasks.

That line was becoming ever more of an annoyance as time passed.

She silently motioned for the Saint to continue, and a brief moment later a young boy walked in, his steps unhurried, though there was a look of resigned annoyance on his face as Celestine quickly moved to stand behind him, holding up a halo.

Considering that the boy was by far the largest amalgamation of shards of Atham's soul, it was somewhat warranted.

The boy, as was fitting, had all of the 'charm' of his father. "I was wondering when you would call for me."

Alaya, for her part, was not fooled in the slightest by the comment. "As much as it may surprise you, you are not here to be punished. The old fool brought this mess down on his own head, after all…and neither you, nor your siblings, are him in any way that matters. Now then, what shall I call you, young one?"

The boy considered it for a moment. "I have been referred to as the Star Child by some, though that name is tinged with…regrets, as it implies the existence of a Star Father…" the boy barely repressed a shudder, and Alaya sympathized. There was a reason she had acted as quickly as she did, after all… "But it can suffice as a name for now. After all, I am at best a disembodied soul, not an actual body."

Alaya nodded. She had expected as much. "Very well, then, Star Child. I have called you here to ask of your assistance in cleaning up this mess. Your progenitor left behind a bit more than anticipated."

"Kind of expected when you killed him."

Alaya laughed out loud. "He is not dead, child. At least, not without me allowing it. Should I cease my support of his spirit, then he will collapse inwards on himself and go back to slowly perishing as he was…and without the power to sustain the Astronomican as he had been doing for millennia. No, what I am doing here is a restoration. Now come, Star Child. We have much to discuss."

The following discussion would last for some time, as the two (and Saint Celestine) attempted to cobble together a plan that would prevent the collapse of the Imperium as a whole.

And maybe get through Harry's thick head as well. Stubborn bastard.

---

I awoke in the extremely comfortable hotel bed, Mio in my arms and the both of us still sticky from the previous night's activities. Which had probably drawn a chuckle or two from our minders, but Mio was rather insistent.

The two of us were nearing the end of our scheduled 48-hour quarantine, a standard procedure of the space program to prevent any potential transmission of foreign bacteria and viruses into the population. The others were in a similar state, as were the four capes we had encountered on our arrival.

Grey Knight had noted that it most definitely beat an M/S containment cell for comfort, though his companions were less willing to speak on the matter–at least not without trying to subtly sell the concept of the Protectorate in the process.

I was, of course, not interested, and Mio was similarly unaffected, and so that conversation went nowhere.

Of course, during the downtime, we were not idle. I had intended to request a videoconferencing system to stay in touch during our isolation, but I'd been preempted by NASA in short order. As such, we had spent the following hours talking about all manner of technological and technical prospects and interests, most of them directed at things that the JPL guys could get working on now instead of having to wait for us to clear quarantine. From what we'd been hearing, there was a lot of good news on that front.

I had also been in contact with both the local Medical Wing of the Air Guard, and their civilian counterparts out of the massive Texas Medical Center downtown, for my just-as-standard post-deployment eval. Most of it was the same standard stuff, the usual mental health checks and general de-stress debriefing that was meant to ensure that guys coming back home were still in the right frame of mind and not subtly going crazy or something. I had additional stuff piled into mine, mostly to do with the fuzzy bits, as well as some follow-on physicals that had been requested of both of us after we were let out.

Needless to say, despite having two days of mostly nothing happening, a lot was going on. Which is why Mio's insistence that she drain me out last night was somewhat unusual, especially as she was still relatively shy about things despite having me to lean on.

It might have had something to do with that conversation we'd had as we were first placed into isolation, when I told her about Watts' Wife and my observations on the matter.

Her response was intended to be jumping me right then and there to re-establish her claim, but had been stymied by the reminder that we were being monitored at all times for safety reasons. That it held her off as long as it had was still a miracle, though: I'd been feeling her lust spike to dangerous levels for the entire time, and my own was rising to match it. If it hadn't happened last night, we would have probably lost a day or two–again–indulging in each other.

Still, we had agreed to table the discussion regarding what was happening on that side until after the initial processes were complete, and we had a bit more privacy to work with.

Extracting myself from the bed (and waking Mio in the process), I found that breakfast had already been delivered to us by the usual secure method, and was still piping hot as well. The video screen that was installed in the room quickly snapped on, revealing our current minders, doctors Halsey and Larson. Both of them were visibly amused by my current state, and I suspected that this was not the first time that they had been party to returning astronauts being amorous after a mission.

That, or they were just being smug about how Mio had dragged me into it.

"Good morning, Mr. Green. Just making sure that your lady friend didn't wear you out too much last night." Dr. Halsey commented, her amusement clear in her tone. "We're ready to get back into things for the final stretch once you get cleaned up and eat. Take your time."

Dr. Larson's comments were a bit more on-point, though even his demeanor was still rather jovial. "We also wanted to let you know that the two of us have been tapped as your physicians for the moment, so we will be in on the physical examinations as well. Is this alright with you?"

I nodded absently as I prepped for a quick shower. "Fine by me, and Mio isn't going to complain about having a second opinion on things. Besides, I get to show off some stuff when you do it."

A thought occurred to me. "Speaking of, are either of you in the running for heading up to Miakoda? I know the selections process for the candidates has been grueling so far…"

Dr. Larson shook his head. "No way, man. I've seen the competition going on over that, and people are getting downright cutthroat over who gets to head up. I'll wait for the later waves to make my bid, thank you very much."

His comment reminded me of that particular tidbit too. The race for the slots was indeed extremely grueling and cutthroat, and that was just to be a part of the final list for consideration. Everyone from pilots to scientists to even the goddamned cooks were moving around at record pace to try and get themselves into position to be on that list, many of which were abandoning work in progress to simply have the chance.

And that was just the civilian side. The Military aspect was even worse, with there suddenly being a massive inter-service rivalry between the Army, Air Force, Marines and Navy to get as many of 'their' people up as possible while potentially denying slots to the competition. The fact that the guy in charge of the place (IE: Me) was Air Force was not sitting well with the Naval contingent, but they would learn to deal with it in due time.

The equal insistence that I had made that enlisted personnel get the same opportunity to be considered as their officers was creating even more friction, which was causing some minor issues in the usually officer-heavy process for selection. Plenty of excitement from the enlisted side, though, as there were quite a few who were interested in getting a lift into space.

My laugh as I considered the ramifications of all of that was well received by the doctors, both of whom well aware that I could push them to the front of the line if I so chose to, and decided to not ask for it. I could respect that much, at least.

A set of arms draping themselves over my shoulders announced that Mio was awake…ish. She was being somewhat sluggish lately, and for no reason that I could immediately name, though the lethargy faded quickly as she moved about.

"'Morning, husband. What do the doctors have to say about things so far?"

Dr. Halsey replied before I could get a word in, not that I was trying hard. "Nothing much. Based on what we are seeing on our end, the both of you should be free and clear at around two p.m. today, You are both scheduled for a physical examination following your discharge, as per prior agreements. Lunch will be provided afterwards if you are amenable."

Mio's smile, if anything, became warmer, and I could distinctly feel the effect. "Alrighty then. Let's get cleaned up, shall we?" And with that she ran off towards the bathroom and attendant shower.

Halsey's snickering came through loud and clear over the line.

"It's really not that funny, Dr. Halsey." I quipped.

Halsey switched to outright laughter. "I'm married myself, Warrant Officer. I've done the exact same to my husband on more than one occasion."

Dr. Larson, who was only barely masking his own amusement, decided to jump in too. "Go deal with your wife, and we can continue this afterwards. Lord knows you both need to get it out of your system."

Recognizing a losing battle when I saw one, I went to deal with Mio's punishment, the doctors laughing the whole while.

---

"Alright, everything is looking good, and we have seen no abnormalities or potential biological vectors. The biology work is more or less complete as well, and we have seen no major abnormalities." What wasn't said was that this was because there were abnormalities they expected to see, courtesy of our having explained things before the blood draw. "Unless anyone else has concerns, I am willing to say that they are clear."

None of the other medical professionals, including Halsey and Larson, disagreed.

The chief examiner nodded. "Very well, then. You both are free to go." He waited a moment before adding, "Welcome to Houston."

With that, the various parties disbanded, with our now personal care physicians staying behind to get ready for the next part, while a second pair of doctors, these in camouflage utilities, filed in.

"Good afternoon, Warrant Officer Green. Nice to see that the Air Force decided to fix that issue from back in the day. I am Doctor Barregos, and with me is Doctor Chen, US Navy. We will be performing the physical examinations, as we mentioned prior. Any questions before we start?"

I smiled at the doctor, a full colonel, who was about to have her world blown away simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Just one, doc. You mind if I break out my own equipment for this? Didn't want to use it during the quarantine as a precaution."

I didn't wait for the response, instead breaking out the diagnostic tools and equipment that I'd had in storage. The medical professionals in attendance were suitably impressed by the appearance of the devices, but…

"I was kinda of expecting something a bit…bigger when you said that, Mr. Green." Dr, Chen noted wryly. "Nevertheless, would you care to inform us of what, exactly, we are working with?"

I laughed a little. "I really don't have to. They are rather intuitive once activated. Give it a moment…and there you are."

The various holographic screens and status windows sprang to life around the doctors as they were given the initialization package for the system. I noted with some amusement that while Doctor Chen was eagerly delving into the system itself, seeking to find all of the little fiddly bits he could customize, Dr. Barregos was more forceful with dismissing the setup and customization options, which forced the system into a default mode designed to be as user-friendly as possible to a person not trained on it.

Both Halsey and Larson were lost in the menus and not paying much attention.

"...well, this is something. I have to say that I am impressed." was Barregos' final response, after she finished clearing out all of the extra stuff and got right down to the main system. "I'm assuming that you have something similar on the moon, then?"

Mio nodded absently. "A bit less advanced, mostly because we neglected the upgrades over time. Nothing that can't be fixed, just…lesser than what you are working with."

Dr. Barregos nodded herself. "Very well then. Mr. Green, you have cleared most of the mental wellness checks, and the rest of it is, as you know, a formality that gets observed. As for the physical, we have been requested to do a more thorough examination by several interested parties, as well as being requested," I caught the stressing on that last part, which implied that it wasn't as much of a request as it was an order, "to perform an MRI examination on both of you for various reasons. We specifically have a bit of tinkertech that was brought in to expedite the process, so we can get you in and out as quickly as possible. Any questions so far?"

Mio gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement. "What if the results of this MRI come back…less than positive? What happens then?"

Barregos frowned slightly. "Assuming that the results come back with anomalous results, a more thorough test will be scheduled using standard equipment to confirm the results. If those match…well, that is currently beyond the scope of my instructions."

I interpreted it as a PRT power play to suss out the suspected Tinker. Still, I was unsure of exactly how the MRI would react to…well, everything. There was the distinct possibility that there would be unusual reactions or similar, as a result.

Nonetheless, it would have to happen anyway. I nodded my assent at Dr. Barregos. "Good to go when you are, doc."

And, in a rare case of the technology actually being used for it's intended purpose, the Doctors all proceeded to utilize the new gear I'd provided to perform their checks and inspections without any form of interference, much to their shock.

"...it's that easy? Holy hell…if we could get one of these in every hospital…"
"Definitely need to talk to the bosses about this…"
"...and so much detail…wait, you can adjust it more? Where is that?"

"Huh. Well, that is interesting."

I could guess as to what Dr. Barregos was looking at, but didn't voice my opinion. She continued her observations uninterrupted, save for one of the others muttering something to themselves.

"So…your blood has some kind of inert mineral content mixed into it, along with some significant reinforcing of your bones and certain organs as well with the same substance. This stuff acts as a kind of…booster effect? for other things happening with your body, and some…okay, what the hell? This says that you have at least three, possibly four different types of energies running through your damned body at the same time, and they are not conflicting with each other nor causing you to die screaming. What is going on here, Warrant Officer?"

Ah. There it is. The inevitable crazy realization that we are not normal. "I'll get to that in a bit, Doc. Anything else you've noticed, particularly with regard to some of those requests?" The implication of which request was clear enough.

Dr. Chen spoke up as if summoned. "According to this, the, ah, requests are satisfied with little need for follow-up. However, due to the nature of the request, you still have to go through the tinkertech just to be sure. Otherwise, you are looking good, Mr. Green."

"No, it is your wife that we will be having trouble with." Barregos added in, turning towards Mio. "Did you know that you were pregnant? Based on the size of the fetus, approximately two months or so. It only would have started showing within the next few weeks, and–"

I tuned all of the discussion out. None of it mattered, as the instant Barregos uttered those words, Mio froze. Her entire conscious thought process locked up harder than a rusted door, and I was immediately reaching out towards her mentally to stop whatever it was from spiraling out of control.

I heard the thoughts as I touched her mind. 'This is impossible, this is impossible, this is impossible!'

I got up from my seat and moved to hug her even as the docs continued with the normal notes and notices about pregnancy, but all I could hear was that loop in her mind about how this was impossible.

Slowly, she registered my touch, and turned towards me, tears in her eyes. I just hugged her harder, which seemed to break the loop in her thought process. To my mental inquiries, I received no reply. Knowing Mio, she would tell me about it later on.

Barregos continued on as if nothing was wrong. "Anyway, the good news aside, this doesn't change much. You still will be taking that MRI, and we'll be recording the results as a baseline for the new diagnostic and scanning tools you have lent us."

I pointedly ignored the blatant hijacking of the equipment, as I'd intended for it to be used anyway. Better in the hands of a doctor than sitting in my impeller storage unused. Besides, Mio was far more important than something I could not only replace but improve upon in seconds if I desired.

It wasn't until we started moving towards the room with the tinkertech machine inside of it that I finally got a response from her.

"This…was very unexpected, for a number of reasons." she said, softly. The mental packet that came with it, however…

It was something that I had glossed over during our meeting and had forgotten about as we got to know each other, lost in the mire of things that were considered unimportant in the grander scheme.

Mio was, up until recently, barren, and had been for decades following a near-disastrous assault on a chaos planet that had literally eaten ninety percent of the combatants as fuel for some kind of ascension ritual. Mind you, this was all combatants, not just Imperial forces…and that planet, that was once named Falachis, had been contested for at least a decade. She was but one of the bare handful of survivors to come out of the mess, which had also nearly eradicated three entire Space Marine chapters in the process.

It was a large part of why she had sought out the Mechanicus in her home universe, after all: the hope that there was a way to restore what had been lost to her through the gifts of the Machine God. That she later proved to be quite adept as an engineseer and overall techpriestess was considered a win by the Mechanicus as a whole, even if there were regrets in their being unable to restore her lost…potential.

I suspected that it was either the transformation of the forge itself, or the reformation into a hybrid nanocolony that ultimately healed her. I would have put it on Eirin's head, but the docs were rather clear on the front that this was a pregnancy well underway.

Also, looking at the readouts myself, it seemed that she was having an unusually easy time of it for some reason. Normally by now there would be all of the little tells that happen as the mother's hormonal and chemical balance starts shifting to support the formation and upkeep of a fetus, but none of those ever factored in at any point. If anything, the only change she has undergone since the probable conception point was to become even hornier than she already was, once she'd found a properly suitable target for her perversions.

Not that I was complaining. Pregnancy also had a bad habit of creating monsters out of women for the months prior to the stable period and just before birth. It was a well-documented phenomenon that I had seen firsthand from my own family members, and not having to deal with that as a side effect of physical enhancements was more than acceptable.

That being said, Mio deserved more of a response than me simply digesting her reminder text.

"Don't worry. We'll handle it together." And that much I meant with all my soul. After all, I'd loved her even knowing that she would be unable to bear any children, and still stood with her all the same, as she did for me. A flash of memory from my last interaction with Watts' wife, the other Mio, washed over me, along with her request that at the time didn't make much sense.

Well, I guess this was what she was talking about. Not that I wasn't going to do so anyway, this was my woman, thank you very much, and my wife to boot. Besides, she was carrying my child–

Oh.

Oh god.

I'm going to be a father.

---

Mio felt it the instant that reality had set in for him, that realization that yes, you are about to be a father of a child. She was sure that the doctors saw it on his face the instant that the news truly sunk in. She equally suspected that they had seen this countless times before, and were chuckling to themselves at Satori suddenly becoming very wooden as the shock hit him this time.

Still, as he had comforted her in her time of need, so too would she comfort him. And it would be a much easier thing, as well, as he was not resigned for decades to be forever childless like she was.

Seeing the thoughts flowing through her partner's (and now father of her child!! (no, she did not squee in joy, not even internally, and no one can prove otherwise)) face, she was suddenly reminded about their last meeting with Watts, after Thoth, the god, had dropped off his pile of notes in the forge proper and created a mess. Hadn't he congratulated them?

Did he somehow know?

Combine this with the more concerning notion that Satori had brought up during their discussion, that there was apparently a version of her in the space that was Watts' spouse, and things were becoming a bit more complicated than she wanted to be dealing with at the moment.

At least Watts, for all of his mystery, was genuinely on their side and helpful in his management of the activation of the Forge's powers. This, of course, reminded her of the best part of their relationship with Watts: they could see him at any time they chose.

Such as right now.

'Stepping' into the mental space that was the representation of the Forge as a whole and it's connections, both within itself and to herself and Satori, was trivial at this point, and she accomplished it with ease, pointedly moving within the space to appear next to Watts so as to ask him some questions.

This had the unintended consequence of her appearing right at the foot of a bed that was currently being put through some extreme stresses as Watts and what she assumed was his wife made extensive use of it in their extremely enthusiastic lovemaking.

She froze for a moment. Not because she was intruding on an intensely personal moment for the couple, not because of any embarrassment on her part (though that was a minor factor anyway), but rather because of the very distinct aura that was being given off by the two as they indulged in each other.

An aura she knew all too well.

That pause seemed to be enough time for the two to conclude their activity, both of them breathing heavily. Watts eventually took the time to roll off to the side of his satiated (for now) partner, allowing the both of them to face Mio in their entirety, mess and all.

Mio pointedly did not question how she knew that they were nowhere near done yet. Instead, she focused on the pair, who seemed completely unsurprised at her presence, and were equally unashamed as well.

Considering the details she was picking up just at a casual glance, they had every right to not worry about her violating their privacy.

Watts sighed in a combination of pleasure and relaxation as he finally caught his breath again. "Heya hon. Wasn't expecting to see you pop by just yet, but this works just as well. I'm assuming you're here because Satori is…concerned about certain impressions he got last time?"

Mio gave a curt nod, revealing nothing.

Which Watts seemed to see through anyway. Considering who he was, this was unsurprising. "I was wondering when he would get to that part. Don't worry, this was actually a long time coming, though the fact that it was needed at all is because of the way we initially managed to interact, Satori and I. The 41st Millennium is very hostile to those who try to be benevolent about things, and the groundwork needed for bringing in the initial care package was done in haste, which necessitated a bit of tweaking to get things stable."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and Mio noted in her mind yet more proof of what she had already surmised, but remind silent. "End result was that he forgot a lot about our first meeting, and who exactly I was and why I was there. As for my lovely lady here–" He nudged the woman next to him, who smiled broadly even as she was on full display, "--she is exactly who, and what, you think she is."

Mio merely closed her eyes, a frown of irritation forming on her face, complete with creased brow. She vaguely noticed her tail lashing out as well, and willfully stilled it before it damaged something. "So, why didn't you just say something instead of spooking him with the games, huh? Right now, he's confused as hell as to why you seem to have a copy of HIS wife in your bed, dammit."

Watts shrugged. "It wasn't important at the time, and he was more than happy enough with things. I decided to leave it alone…but then this one decided to poke her nose in." he added in pokes to his wife's belly for emphasis, causing her to giggle. "And you know how she can get around–"

Mio didn't bother letting him finish talking, instead grabbing him by his currently extremely vulnerable man parts. "Nope. You don't get to walk out of this that easily. So, here's the deal: Keep your woman under control (and don't act like you can't; We both know full well you can) and I let you keep these. Understood?"

"B-but–"

Mio squeezed harder. "No buts. Do. You. Understand?"

Watts eventually resigned himself to agreeing, causing his wife to laugh out loud, much to his embarrassment.

At least, until she suddenly found herself in just as awkward a position, having fingers where she didn't want them and primed for a very painful time.

Mio continued on as if it was a normal occurrence. "And you. Your entire job is keeping him grounded out and stable, and not letting him float off like this. Why did you even let this happen?"

She received no response, which was expected. "As I thought. The same goes for you. Keep him properly grounded, as you are intended to do…and I allow you to keep the fun bits. Deal?"

A hasty nod was her only reply.

"Good. With that being completed, I now have to deal with breaking this to my Satori. Do be ready to offer up an explanation, would you 'Watts'?"

Watts' grimace was her only reply, which she took as acquiescence before leaving. The resulting silence hung in the air for several moments before being broken.

"You know, there was no reason to play along with this mess the way we are."

"Not really, no. But when they get the joke, it'll pay off. Now then, I believe you were holding out on me, honey. Spread 'em."

The pair quickly resumed their prior activities.

---

I could feel Mio's sudden spike of irritation and annoyance as we were moving, and based on the amount of time involved quickly assumed that she'd paid a visit to Watts over something. Considering all of the details that I'd had time to mull over regarding that situation, I decided to let it be for the time being.

After all, the one thing I was most certain of was that Mio was very much the type to look into those who dared to try and move in on things that were hers. And this wasn't even due to the whole 'dragon' thing, either, just her natural inclination.

And being this annoyed by something related to that likely meant that she was unable to solve the problem the way she desired.

I mentally nudged her to get her attention. 'Alright, what is it?'

This form of telepathy that I was currently using was almost completely psionic in nature, and was a bit new, but oddly natural to use between us. I chalked it down to our general growth.

'Watts knew everything and was keeping you out of the loop as some kind of joke.'

I blinked. That…had just confirmed one of my theories about what was going on. 'And as for his wife?'

I received the mental impression of someone that Mio wanted to simultaneously strangle to death and smother in all the hugs. 'Doing exactly as she was supposed to do, and keeping her husband grounded.'

…well, even as loaded as that statement was with subtext, that was another confirmation. Which meant that the only reasons left for Watts to have not said anything about the issue was because either he couldn't do so, for whatever reason, or that he didn't want to, which opened up even more questions.

And I could see Mio's frustration, now, because the remaining hypotheses on Watts' identity depended on if he could have told them, and why he chose not to.

Which was honestly a conundrum for another time, and one that I was sure that he would be answering himself when I finally decided to pop in on him.

After all, it's what I'd do.

For right now, though, our group had arrived at the room containing the tinkertech MRI scanner. The setup was actually a lot more compact than I was expecting, even if it looked somewhat patchwork, and had a clear station set aside with an operations terminal that was already being manned by a technician. I found myself curious as to how it was supposed to work, and moved to get a quick touch-scan of the workings inside for future reference.

The technician quickly moved to stop me, however. "Sorry about that, sir, but the machine can be finicky if it gets messed with the wrong way. I'm going to have to ask you not to touch anything not specifically marked as safe."

Odd, but whatever. It's not like I couldn't get a scan by other means. "So how does this work, then?"

The tech nodded to himself as he began the explanation. "It's a standard MRI, really. The only differences here are that you don't have to worry about clothing or jewelry getting in the way of the scan, and that it is significantly faster with results. All you need to do is stand on the marked square over there, and we can get started."

I frowned to myself. I knew full well what he was speaking of was perfectly possible in at least five different ways that I had explored personally, and another ten that were possible, but nothing about the machinery present gave even the slightest hint that this was meant to operate that way. My hunch that something was off was at least partially supported by the obvious lack of a suitable power supply for the machine in question, as I knew full damn well that there was no way that they'd fit something small enough into there to make it work.

They weren't me, after all.

Still, I was getting no premonitions of danger from any of my senses or the Force itself, so I played along and stepped up to the plate…after letting Thoth know to scan for everything it could, and asking Minerva to do the same. Both complied without comment. Soon thereafter, the discordant hum of machinery filled my ears, along with an odd scratchy sound that I couldn't place.

The scan was surprisingly brief for what it was doing. Mio was keeping up a running psionic commentary to me as the minutes ticked by, and was noting that there was some kind of dimensional shunt active in several places that was doing the actual work of the process, while the machinery for the most part wasn't actually doing what it was supposed to do. Worse, according to Mio the machine actually could have done as advertised, if it had been built properly instead of in the weird haphazard way that it was.

The Index (which is what I had decided to call the magical effect that acted as just that for the multiple knowledge bases we had access to) helpfully pointed out that the lack of proper build cohesion and/or missing critical parts along with "black boxes" was a core staple of tinkertech, and were the primary reasons for why so much effort was required to reverse engineer the stuff into something usable. It further pointed out that, because one of the active forge powersets was based off of that precise phenomenon, I had an easy workaround for the black box issue and could back-hack not only the other side and the actual source shard, but also "fix" the tech to be properly comprehensible.

And once again, the forge proves it's worth. I was going to be extremely careful about revealing that ability to 'understand' tinkertech, though, as that way lay even more PRT interference.

"Alright! Scan is complete. Putting up on screen now." the Technician announced, breaking me from my thoughts. I, along with the rest of our party, turned to the output screen for the results.

"Well, that's interesting…" and judging from her tone, Dr. Barregos was not amused by what she was seeing. Neither were the others, for that matter.

Because sure enough, the tinkertech scanner's results were placing a node of quasi-cancerous tissue in a random location in my brain, analogous to the corona growths that signified a parahuman. I somehow found myself unsurprised at the result.

Instead, I merely let go of the metaphorical leash I was holding Mio on, and she quickly acted, not only pulling out a second copy of the medical diagnostics tools we'd left behind in the exam room, but also moving to do a more in-depth inspection of the tinkertech scanner.

The tech noticed the movement and quickie tried to stop her. "Ma'am, you cannot–"

Only to get completely bowled over and shoved aside as if he barely existed as Mio breezed past him without even slowing down, quickly breaking out a small portable toolkit and some spare parts that I assumed she had fabricated during the wait.

The hard-light holoscreens quickly formed around the doctors, even more quickly imported their preferences from the other device, and proceeded to do a side-by-side comparison of the scans taken previously with the ones taken by the tinkertech.

The results were damning: our gear showed not only zero anomalies (which meant no corona tumors), but also picked up on the other things that an imaging machine of that caliber should have seen, which included the enhanced and adapting nanites in my bloodstream flowing normally.

And then Mio finished with her repairs to the tinkertech machine, having restored it to proper spec functionality and removed all of the black box bullshit in the process…and destroying my plan to stay low as well.

The mental smirk I got from her made it clear that she was well aware of my intentions and decided to ignore them anyway…and knew full well that I would be punishing her later.

Sheesh. And I thought I was horny.

The hum of the tinker machine once again hit my ears, but this time it was a smoother sound, and the odd scratching noise was not present. Not even twenty seconds later, an image popped up on the screen showing off a brand-new scan, which showed no abnormalities…and was at least five times clearer than it was originally.

The poor technician moved to make a complaint, noted the difference in the machine's output and output quality, and quickly shut his mouth. He recognized being set up by people as well, it seemed.

Dr. Barregos broke the silence. "Well, after all of this, I am more than inclined to declare that all outstanding issues have been resolved and, pending your wife getting her own scan completed, am willing to release you for the day. Of course, due to the discrepancy noted here in the testing, I am required to schedule you for further testing on an unmodified MRI machine, preferably by an outside party, before I can get rid of the paperwork, but I already know what they are going to find. I can safely declare you not to be a parahuman, and as such the Parahuman Response Teams no longer has any authority here."

"Now then, who wants lunch? There's a nice place nearby I wanted to try out."

---

I made sure to have Thoth track the data traffic going between that hospital and the PRT, and found the expected screeching happening through emails being thrown a both NASA and the Department of Defense alike. The amusing part being that due to the nature of the situation, the Governor had to be CC'ed in to the conversation, with predictable results after the PRT tried to flex their muscle over the State of Texas.

Meanwhile, Mio and I were getting our first taste of what passed for authentic Tex-Mex food on Earth Bet. Mio, for her part, was devouring her portions with gusto and enthusiasm.

"This is great!! I never thought you could make something this simple work like that!" she exclaimed in between bites of her sixth enchilada platter. It was, of course, smothered in proper southern salsa and cheese. I could only smile at her antics, having gone through three of the same myself.

Dr Barregos, who was footing the bill for this little lunch trip, was not quite as nice. "Can you two please stop eating me into the poor house? Even I only get paid so much."

Mio completely ignored the poor colonel's plight. I silently promised to make it up to her later with something personal.

And, to be fair, it actually was a nice little restaurant. It was a hole-in-the-wall type, mostly known to the local community as a good place to be and generally used for the local lunch rush groups in the surrounding industries. There were plenty of the same type spread all over the city, even without me knowing how Bet would have changed things that I had known before, and even in light of the fact that some of the city's biggest changes had yet to be actually implemented.

Besides, they actually knew their stuff. The barbacoa was some of the best I'd had ever, which I'd chalked up to the actual seasoning they used, unlike most of the gas-station taquerías I'd known in the past. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Still, I'd eventually managed to drag my ravenous dragon out of the restaurant, to the silent gratitude of Dr. Barregos' wallet and the cheers of the restaurant staff (who very much liked that their work was appreciated).

Our next stop was back at JSC for another progress meeting regarding the selections processes, as well as the status reports on the analysis of the stuff from our gift box. Personally, I thought it was just a way to get us somewhere that the real questions could be asked by people who needed to be asking.

Considering that the Air Force was still going over the Owl transport with a fine tooth comb (despite the fact that I had left all the maintenance and technical manuals in a place that any actual crew chief would know to find them), I didn't blame NASA in the slightest for wanting some face time.

"So, we were looking at the repulsor system that you gave us, and we think that we can get at least a good 30% improvement out of the entire design with a few simple tweaks. We wanted to know your opinion." The current speaker was a video call from JPL, a Marcus Honda. They were the ones working on the adaptation of the systems at the moment, at least on the NASA side.

I shrugged. "I never meant for the stuff to be the be-all and end-all. I myself have wrung anywhere from sixty to ninety percent extra out of a diverging design with little issue. This stuff was meant to be taken apart and played with, mostly because I know full damn well that I can miss things that others won't." The proof was on the screen a moment later, as I showed my other design spec, which had a completely different overall philosophy than the one Honda's team had located and optimized. "Don't worry about me saying otherwise, and run with it. If I wanted my ego stroked, I would just ask my wife."

Mio giggled at the comment, even as she was playing around with one of the new forge additions. The Nullspace computer was originally just a standard computer tower that happened to be stored in a pocket dimension space (and which begged further research) and could be upgraded as needed or desired. The only other unique function about it aside from being tamper-proof due to its storage was the holographic interface that came standard with the setup.

Mio, of course, had taken everything we'd had going on, both here and at Miakoda, and used it to apply some downright scary upgrades to the system, to the point that it was honestly more of a hypercomputer than anything else.

The fact that she had taken the quantum computing experiments that I had been playing with and formalized and refined it before implementing it in the system only added to its overall power. At the moment, I was pretty sure that the system was more powerful than even the central mainframe that we'd set up on Miakoda. Which was yet another thing we now had to work into the upgrade cycle, though it could actually afford to wait to be accomplished.

Better is always the enemy of the good enough, and trying to implement a system like that when Miakoda was still brand new was counterproductive at a minimum. We had no need to rebuild everything all the time just because we got a new shiny to play with.

A quick glance over her shoulder showed me that she was working on a proper OS for the system, seeing as nothing available was compatible in any way. I was tempted to insert my own opinion in here, but decided against it for the time being. I could hassle her about her choices for the OS later on if it deserved it.

Of course, that was not the only project that NASA had us helping out on. As per our ultimatum to work with the Mexican government on technology projects, there was an open link between the two governments on how to properly facilitate that requirement, especially considering the strained relations that Mexico had with the United States, courtesy of the PRT. There were proper inroads being made into actually solving the issues, but it was and would take time, and the infrastructure build-up would take even longer without one of us stepping over to help

And unfortunately we were both occupied at the moment.

Crap. I was probably going to have to take a look at some kind of remote-operated drone system to get things set up the way they need to be down there without getting things messed up by the local parahumans. Or the drug cartels. Or any of the other endemic issues that plagued Mexico because of decades of political turmoil and/or American policy.

Fortunately, We had more than enough clout with the government to get in there and get some of the bigger issues worked out, like access to clean water and electricity. It was still going to be uphill, but that had more to do with general attitudes of the people and not difficulty of completing the task at hand.

And we were going to have to go down there no matter what anyway, as one of the larger originium patches was located there, along with an increasing number of migrants through the break in space-time. I had even money on most of them being positive for oripathy, too, or at least knowing of people who were.

Earth Bet's medical science wasn't ready to deal with that just yet, and even the vaunted Panacea could only do so much about the problem, as those in the later stages of oripathy would be increasingly larger amounts of crystal rather than flesh.

Still, it was something that we'd have to deal with later on.

Director Langley decided to put in one of his increasingly less rare appearances to check in on things. "So, how's it going, people? Anything new?"

The obvious attempt at cracking a bad joke was still received warmly by all. They all knew full fucking well that they hadn't even scratched the surface of what was to come.

Jason, one of the other techs in attendance, was the one to respond. "You mean aside from the massive breakthroughs that will have made our budget for decades to come? And that don't need to rely on anyone but ourselves to make happen?" he shrugged. "Nah, we're good."

Langley got another good laugh out of the reply. "Alright then, that's good enough. Besides, I am actually here on business for once. Greens, the bosses in Washington wanted to know about how much space you have available on that moonbase of yours to get the final selection numbers down. My bosses in particular are curious as to if you have a new space suit design in there somewhere."

I quickly pulled up the schematic for the Transtar suit and ARTX propulsion pack, made a few quick adjustments for easier construction and usage, and fired it off to the requisite people's emails and the main screen. The only adverse reaction I got was from the guys who were already using the screen for their own purposes, at least one of which was a big-screen game of Super Street Fighter II (the Turbo edition, no less.)

The silence was golden.

"Anything else you need?" I asked mildly.

Director Langley merely shook his head. "No, that should be enough for now. Thank you."

As the director left, some of the techs began snickering.

I couldn't find it within myself to stop them, and judging from Langley's own muffled chuckles, neither did he.

---

The next few days shook out roughly the same as things progressed, and the ongoing security checks disguised as general wellness checkups and "acclimation checks" by the military and civilian counterparts. I knew what they were doing, and they knew I knew, but the song and dance was still necessary simply due to protocol.

I had noticed that the National Intelligence apparatus had been called in to do further checks on our person as we slowly settled in to life back on Planet Earth. Much like the other checks, we were mutually aware of each other and made no moves outside of the pro forma 'stealth' motions to hide this fact from each other. Trust but Verify was the order of the day, and we all chugged along with it in relatively good cheer due to having a pretty good read on each other by now. Admittedly, it helped that the CIA had managed to get their hands on a nascent Telepath and was using her to keep tabs on me, which I reciprocated by teaching her what I knew of psionics whenever she was on watch duty, massively increasing her effectiveness in watching over my actions. A similar deal with an equally amateur magical Diviner attached to the NSA was just as well known.

This led to some amusing interactions in which the various spy agencies were using me both as an instructor for their recently awakened supernatural corps as well as a go-between for their informal backchannel network, even if there wasn't much going through it other than the usual "is this channel still open?" messages. I knew full well that this was just as much meant to link me specifically into the network to get important information out quickly if it came to it as it was yet another check.

The song-and-dance routine gave me enough time to take a better look at some of the stuff that had come through in the latest activation surge from the forge that we hadn't gotten around to cataloging just yet. And this one was a bit of a doozy, mostly due to Watts having marked it as extremely dangerous. After reading a little on the effect, I fully understood why.

The Eldar, those pompous asswipes, took many things to the extreme in their pursuit of being "ultimate". This included their buildings and construction methods, in which the Aeldari quite literally used their psionic powers and a frankly ridiculous amount of training to quite literally sing their crafts into creation. The material that was created from this process, the heavily psionically-attuned 'super compound' known as wraithbone, had many similarities to some of the strongest materials known to man, while also being extremely light. And let's not forget that psionic conductivity. Can never forget that

I wasn't impressed. Sure, it had a lot of really cool features to it, but the combination of lack of ease of working along with the fact that the stuff was not quite as good as even some of the random alloys I could make right now if I chose (and downright inferior to things that I could make with only a slight bit more effort) was a dealbreaker for me. And besides, the main selling point for the stuff was the psionic conductivity, which, while good, I could do better in at least five different ways without even trying.

Basically, as a material, the stuff was a dud except as for potential synthesis fodder. And even then I could likely do better without using any of it as an ingredient for something greater.

Apparently, whoever was responsible for grabbing methods and practices for the forge was a bit of a prankster, because one of the recently activated nodes was the knowledge and skill of this ability.

And I knew full well why Watts had marked it as unsafe…and it had nothing to do with the attempt that was made to give me elf ears…which I likely would have had to do something about if that part wasn't corrupted and had to be excised for stability.

"You mean to tell me that this is going to open us up to the Warp. As in, make us full and proper psykers, with all the terror and danger that comes with?"

I nodded to Mio, my face cast in stone. The two of us were alone in our temporary quarters, having retired specifically to discuss the potential ramifications of this specifically. "Yeah. I am not sure how much easier–or harder–this will make things for the tumors, but just that alone is going to cause some issues. I know it."

Mio's frown was deadly in its intensity. "We need to talk to Watts. Now."

Apparently Watts was waiting for us, as we were immediately pulled in to the forgescape with no warning and a lot of annoyance, both he and his wife in attendance. I pointedly did not look at the pair while contemplating my decision on that oh so dangerous ability.

"So, you knew this was coming?" I asked no one in particular.

"Yeah. I knew. It was this, and a few other things, that was the reason why I kept our first meeting so…mysterious. Your awakening to actual psyker potential that soon was a death sentence." Watts replied. Now that I was paying attention to it, I noticed all the things that I had ignored before in our previous discussions that would have tipped me off to who he really was. They actually seemed so obvious now, even just from his voice.

"Alright, fair enough. Now, one last question before I decide on this thing: What exactly are you?"

"I'm–"

An extremely loud and ominous creak interrupted his response, and all four of us looked up at the constellation of stars, where an oddly shaped nebula cluster looked to be rotting away in compressed time. It was with another ominous creak and a loud *snap* that it fell.

And all hell broke loose.

A massive surge of energy lashed out at us all, and I felt more than saw multiple nodes force themselves active all at once, and far beyond any normal limitation on safe startup. The resulting secondary backlash of not only knowledge but power was enough to nearly render me unconscious. It was only Watts actively resonating his soul with mine that prevented me from losing myself to the wave. And all the while, all I could hear was the sound of crashing gears as things spiraled out of control.

I lost track of how long it took for everything to stop shaking, but eventually it did stop, and I could open my eyes without being blinded by the excess energy.

The place was a mess. There were shattered stars and stellar matter everywhere, threatening to annihilate all that it touched. I noted that several of what appeared to be nascent novae were broken, the potential contained within possibly lost forever. Elsewhere, other sections of the forge seemed to be pulsing angrily at something or another as the forcibly activated nodes attempted to settle in to the now patchwork frame that was meant to represent the connection to my soul.

All in all, it was a sorry sight, and It left me wondering just how I was going to fix things to make sure there was no further damage, especially any that could reach through and hit the core…

"Oh. That's what you are."

I realized that it was I myself that had said this–no, that it was I, Satori, that had spoken. I was still partially soulbound to Watts in a way that would have been impossible for literally anything else to have been, and in fact was only possible because of precisely what Watts was.

"You know, out of all the things I was thinking I could see in the future…I never thought for one moment that I would meet my own Oversoul. Nice touch, by the way."

Watts–or rather, the Oversoul of Satori Green–laughed out loud, though it was tinged with a bit of grim humor. "Yeah, I wasn't expecting to get the job, either, but then it happened, and we were stuck together. Honestly, you figured it out the first time we met, but due to the circumstances you kinda forgot about things. It was that realization that was the only reason you actually trusted me to give you the forge in the first place, once you knew you were on Necromunda."

Yeah. I remembered it now. Watts had cloaked himself in a shroud of stars to evoke the classic ROB archetype, but failed to hide the bits and pieces that would let me know that he was a version of me, and thus trustable in that one instance. Looking back, it was probably a good thing.

"Your Mio too?"

A pair of nods was my response.

"Well, at least that mystery is solved. Now then, what do we do about this mess here?"

"You lot don't do anything." a new voice spoke out. "That will be my problem for the foreseeable future, I'm afraid."

We all turned towards the voice, and as one we all blanched in terror.

After all, it was not every day that your soul played host to a being of that much power.

And I in particular recognized exactly who that was, and was all the more terrified because of it.

Her clothing was oddly simple, being a button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. There was also a simple utility belt complete with the tools of the trade of a construction worker, as well as what looked like some spare parts hovering nearby.

But no, it was that hair that reminded me of who I was dealing with more than anything else. Bright pink and shaped roughly to evoke a crab. That, and the face, that oh so smug face of someone who knew full damn well that she was superior to you and that there was nothing you could do about it.

A face that was oddly warm and inviting at the moment.

"After all, I, Little Washu, am here to save you! Besides, I created this thing. Do you really think I want to see it broken?"

After all, it is not every day one comes face to face with one of the Chousin.

---

---

Look upon my works and despair.

This chapter fought me for a bit, mostly because I am a perfectionist and wanted things to be perfect. Other than that, it's a chapter of things happening and things breaking down.

For those of you semi-confused about Watts: Wattis IS Satori, or rather a version of him that managed to ascend to the point of becoming the core soul for all other versions of the same person across the multiverse, an Oversoul. The forge technically was granted to him first, and he then passed on the goodies to his other self. This is also why he's acting like a ROB: he has a vested interest in Satori's wellbeing.

The perk list here is…large. Some of it is a direct result of the absolutely crazy roll session I had prior to writing this, and the rest are "reserve" perks that are now falling off the shelf due to not needing to hold them back anymore.

As for the perks…well…

Spoiler

-Fumble Spotter (Generic Cubicle) (200CP)
You excel at finding odd ways in which your products might be used or misused that could lead them to fail, and in devising ways to fix them before they ever become issues. You are also adept at making the proper usage for your products obvious in their design.

-Orb Design Plans (Swat Kats) (800CP)
Well... this is curious. The design plans for a Micro-Brain Repair Unit... this won't show up for some time, but it is quite useful nonetheless. Once assembled, it will have the ability to scan and repair any damaged machinery it comes across, simply by using the materials around it. The more advanced the machine is, the longer it will take... but it will do its job. Even more concerningly, it has the ability to learn and adapt itself, assimilating machinery to create a more grand body. It may come with existential issues... are you sure you want this?

-STC Converter (Warhammer 40k: Adeptus Mechanicus) (300CP)
This tome-sized cogitator is designed to be fed blueprints for alien or out-of-jump technology and convert them to use STC-standard parts and design principles, well-known for being extremely robust. Perfect translation and equal functionality is not guaranteed, while technology that relies on unique materials or scientific principles not native to the 40k setting will most likely be impossible to recreate. The blueprints that result from successful conversions can be followed by any competent tech-priest. Running blueprints for Magitech or psionic technology through this device without a supreme understanding of 40k metaphysics is an exceedingly bad idea.

-Crafting (Geneforge) (300CP)
There are various things that can only be created through the use of essence and hard work. Shaped equipment, puresteel, certain complicated tools and devices, and certain materials used in enchanting. You can work all of them, producing high quality goods from basic ore and hard work.

-Uchiha Jutsu Archive (Generic Naruto Fanfiction) (400CP)
The Uchiha really were quite shameless in their day, always going around copying everybody else's lifetimes of hard work just by using their special eyes. Well, at least you get to benefit from that. Somehow you've obtained a copy of the complete Uchiha Jutsu Archive, everything that several generations of dedicated intellectual property thieves could copy from every other ninja village, clan and small ninja child in the Elemental Nations. Pretty much any and every technique, seal, chemical formula, pill/cookie recipe or random dance routine that that one Uchiha liked can be found in here. Any knowledge that wasn't limited to literally just one person, family, or bloodline or was based purely on sealless chakra manipulation (such as the Rasengan) and thus uncopyable by the Sharingan is in the archive, all of them laid out in such a clear and concise format that any half-competent ninja could teach himself just by reading the scroll. This archive will update with a complete set of spells, fighting styles, etc, etc. from any setting that you have visited and will visit in the future. Provided it could be generously called public, or even semi-private, knowledge it will be in here. Only the most super-secret, utterly private techniques are missing; after all, even the best copyright pirates can't get everything. This place is comprehensively warded against thievery, somewhat ironically, and it would take a team of top-tier infiltration specialists to even attempt to breach it. Of course its best defense is that, at least at jump start, no one knows you have it. Post jump you can have this become a warehouse attachment.

-Shadow Clones (Generic Naruto Fanfiction) (100CP)
Ah, shadow clone no jutsu. The signature jutsu of the Naruto franchise. And now you can join in on the fun. You have a copy of a technique scroll for the shadow clone jutsu, of such quality that an idiot could teach himself from this thing in virtually no time at all. It even has safeguards built-in that eliminate any possibility of killing yourself by putting too much chakra into it, or getting a headache from too many clones dispelling at once or anything like that. The worst that can possibly happen is that it fails to work. You still can only make as many shadow clones as your chakra can support but outside of that you can feel free to abuse this handy jutsu for training, decoys, diversions, paperwork, chores, or whatever else you can imagine. In the event that this technique is supposed to have some additional features in the particular fanfiction you go to, or even a better version, this scroll will contain both versions.

-AGE System (Gundam - Advanced Generation) (600CP)
This is a 3-part package deal, so you're getting more bang for your buck. First is the AGE Device, which is a massive data-storage unit that contains the Asuno's research data (though for you it starts only with what Flit managed to create and gather before the series start) and the blueprints for the Gundam's armor. It also acts as a key-none of the other parts of this system will operate without it. Next is the AGE Builder, which is an extremely fast 3-D printer (able to make a Mobile Suit rifle in seconds) and continuously collects data from the AGE Device and AGE System. The AGE System is a data collection program that can be installed onto a Mobile Suit and acts as a unique OS. It will collect data and evolve along with its pilot, researching 'solutions' to problems, coming in the form of the Wear Parts, arm and legs designed to improve and counter situations. The Wear Parts are flown to the AGE Gundams in battle using the AMEMBO (one of which is included with this purchase) and swapped mid-battle, though with a different design you could remove the AMEMBO from the equation entirely. This is a highly advanced system, one that can collect, analyze, improve, build and conquer many situations. A Mobile Suit equipped with the AGE System will have a bright letter on its front, defaulting to a blue 'A'-as a bonus, you may change the coloring and the letter to whatever you wish at any time.

-Technical Schematics (Warhammer 40k - T'au empire) (200CP)
This small database is a well organized, easily searchable, and easily accessible list of detailed schematics and scientific texts covering all machines, tools, and sciences understood by the T'au. It cannot be remotely hacked or externally corrupted by others. During your jump, this database includes all T'au knowledge up to either current 40k canon or all information that would be available to the T'au within the next hundred years without your interference, whichever option includes less advanced technology. After this jump, the schematics are upgraded to include all designs and science your T'au have developed and all designs and science developed in canon by the T'au by the end of the Fifth Sphere Expansion.

-PT Theory | Alpha Documents (Super Robot Wars OG Saga Endless Frontier) (700CP)
PT theory 101 (100CP)
You've been around robots long enough to know the basics behind their engineering, at least in regards to the structure and reasoning behind the more common mechs, including the Earth Federation's standard Gespensts, and the TLI's Grungust Type 1: the example of the average Super Robot. Weapon knowledge also included in regards to both, which is basically ballistics and some small degree of beam weaponry.
Alpha Documents (600CP)
The whole kit-and-caboodle of the Earth Federation's current research, all in your head (or documented physically/digitally, your choice). Highlights include: the T-Link System to enhance psychic capability, the Black Hole Engine and the Gravicon system involve the manipulation of gravity for both energy and combat usage, the Tesla Drive: a device capable of enabling flight in battleships that can also be miniaturized to allow robots to fly, and the othersystems and engineering for the Gespensts up to the MKIII "Alteisen" and MKIV "Weissreiter", the Huckebeins up to the Mark III, the Grungusts up to Type 3, and the Lion series models up to the Astelion. Of course some of this does require EOT resources, so you may be limited in what you can do when you don't have these resources, you might be able to substitute them with the right materials, given time and research.

-Anaheim Degree (Gundam - Universal Century) (200CP)
You have the knowledge (and the paper to prove it to people and shove in their faces to establish superiority) of how to build MS. It's trickier than it looks, honestly. Weight balances, servo designs, energy reserves- it's all down to a science and you know how to build the basics. Who knows what you can learn from a bit of hands-on training
MS = Mobile Suits

Spoiler: And then there is this Monster which is responsible for breaking things.

-The Maddest Science Yet! (Tenchi Muyo) (800CP)
This perk grants two features that in universe depend on your setting, out of universe both work unless you desire otherwise.
Slice of Life: Your brilliance is such that you can build amazing inventions to solve all kinds of problems, easily accomplishing feats depicted in pulpy science fiction novels. More importantly however, you gain an absolute certainty in your work. Nothing made by your hands or under your complete direction can harm people (or planets) unintentionally. A comically large mess may ensue however.
SpaceOpera: You can create supertech wonders, past mere conveniences into legitimately useful things like advanced starships, ray guns and miraculous devices. You can also enhance technology from other jumps with this skill. Note that trying to build an FTL starship from scratch on an undeveloped world will probably take ten years...

 

[Slider Zero]

And now for something a little different.

Though most of you probably knew it was coming.

---

■​

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♦ Topic: Unusual activity in space
In: Boards ► Space and Related ► Skywatcher Network Coordination
Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Posted On May 20th 2010:
Alright, before anyone rips my head off, I know that there is a 'proper' UAS thread that gets updated. That is too slow for what is going on right now.

there is something happening on the moon. I don't know what it is, but something is up there and active in doing stuff. you can see it from a telescope if you look.

even with the odd crap that has been going on lately, this is a bit much. I think this one is serious.

​

(Showing page 1 of 28)

►moon_pies
Replied On May 20th 2010:
Bullshit. now way in hell this is real. get that ass banned son.

(edit: oh crap he wasn't joking)


►Mixed Pickles (Verified Pickle)
Replied On May 20th 2010:
I've been telling people on other threads that weird shit was happening up there!


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 20th 2010:
We've noticed some anomalies up on the moon ourselves and will be looking into this ass soon as some telescope time becomes available. We would appreciate any further information that can be sent our way


►MeepSheep
Replied On May 20th 2010:
Looks it's happy hour up there. Maybe it's the.....MOON SPIDERS!


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 22nd 2010:
guys, it's getting worse. one of the craters has become...reflective for some reason and there's a noticeable dust cloud coming from it. what the hell is going on!?!?


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 22nd 2010:
NASA Skywatch teams have verified the previous claims of unknown activity on the moon. we have contacted our sister agencies across the world and they're seeing the same things we are.

as of this time there are no theories on what, if anything, is happening. We will update with any relevant information we receive.


►tradehard (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 22nd 2010:
Err...guys, we have other problems than the moon. I thought I caught something moving around when I was setting up a look at Jupiter. Dunno if it's related.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 22nd 2010:
we'll take a look at it when we get the time. right now this is more important.


►risewatch
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
Quick, someone give them a cold!
​

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(Showing page 5 of 28)

►Priestess of Ifni (Euro Spacewatcher) (Church of the Void)
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
@tradehard No, I saw it too. And it's getting closer. I'm checking with my coworkers, give me a moment.


►FirmHen
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
Welp, guess we won't have to get rid of those Endbringer bunkers after all!


►Juternil
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
@FirmHen please don't joke around about that.


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
ust what we need, more birds in the sky that we can't bat at.

Unless Juno's gotten mad and started throwing Jupiter's stuff at us again. I'd hate to get hit by a Space Sink.


►KaguyaUsagi (JAXA Official)
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
we have confirmed the previous reports of an unknown celestial object within our solar system. current profiles show that it is accelerating.

we will post more information as it becomes available.


►risewatch
Replied On May 23rd 2010:
Oh god, did one of fucking Mannequins old projects up there come online or something?


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 24th 2010:
reposting from the radio guys thread, as this may be related: a broadcast station has opened up in a new location. the source is the moon.

we have no clue either, and a lot of us are getting worried.


►IceManXtreem
Replied On May 24th 2010:
Uranus lobs rocks at us all the time. The fact that we caught something from around Jupiter is interesting though.


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 24th 2010:
Mostly a heartbeat signal, from what I can determine. Weird old modulation though. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were running on standards from before the dawn of the Golden Nudist and have just been... keeping stuff going and updated ever since.

So, not Manny or the Moonwalkers, I don't think. Not unless they've made a few more trips than we know about, anyway.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 24th 2010:
I've gotten in touch with some of our comms guys down in florida, and they concur on the radio heartbeat signal.

as far as we can tell it's just sitting there. We are debating options at the moment, but the general consensus is that this is above our pay grades.
​

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(Showing page 12 of 70)

►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 24th 2010:
I'm honestly more concerned by the side-band. I said Mostly for a reason, but there's something else there. It could be some sort of cross-talk, or there could be some telemetries in there that we're just not seeing because we don't have the code or hardware.


►aerial traffic cone (Radio Head) (Air Traffic Controller)
Replied On May 25th 2010:
I just took a look at it myself. it looks a lot like the old station signals we used as air guides back in the early days. it's definitely more than a heartbeat signal, I can tell you that much.

and yeah, those sidebands worry me. They almost look like some kind of radar...


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 25th 2010:
oh god. Someone built some kind of dock thing up there now. and they did it FAST.

Like five minutes Fast.

this is not looking good...


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 25th 2010:
So, back in the day, there was an audacious plan to run a pirate TV station by registering as a power-company and using a wireless power transmission model(doable, but wasteful)... but modulating the power signal so that as it decayed, it turned into a UHF signal. Totally doable, totally bonkers.

The Side-band stuff has me thinking about that. Could be radar, but really any signal can be used for a form of radar.

Edit: What's the geometrical profile on that dock? Because I remember a project...but it was for Mars not the Moon. Not sure how well moon dust would handle it. Not my expertise, though. Should someone ping the Digger, or do we think it's definitely not man made?


►BackTrack
Replied On May 25th 2010:
*cocks glock* Moons Haunted.


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 25th 2010:
At the risk of invoking a nightmare...do it.


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 25th 2010:
Alright...
@ErieDigger Something weird's going on on the moon and in space. We all know you got stuff you probably shouldn't from all those estate sales.


►ErieDigger (Technology Enthusiast) (Verified Necronaut)
Replied On May 25th 2010:
Rapid construction techniques have been around since the 1800s, including something that's like a 3D printer for brick buildings.

If it's rounded, then the tracked model could probably get up to decent speed and place the outer shell in... well, that depends on the height, but with the reduction of air resistance and gravity, I'd say maybe half an hour?

But with the mention of Mars, that makes me think that Kitty was at least thinking of the Solar Foundry project for mars. Idea was, you send up rovers that collect the dust and then use a solar furnace of some sort of fuse the dust into panels that you could then use for doing prefab work. If you have the prefabs, you absolutely could get one of those buildings up in five, ten minutes.

Then you'd want to use some sort of charge that doesn't require oxygen to weld it in place.


►BearyWise (Veteran Member) (Cosmonaut)
Replied On May 26th 2010:
not to hit the panic button, but our observers at Baikonur Cosmodrome have gotten a good look at our Anomalous Object.

we're rather certain that is a starship. Acceleraton profiles match with this theory as well, and the limited radio signals we are sending match with despte lack of response. as far as we can tell, it's headed for that new structure on the Moon.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 26th 2010:
@BearyWise WHAT.

This has officially exceeded local authority. I'm getting the bosses on the line now.
​

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(Showing page 18 of 124)

►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 27th 2010:
Sooo... I'll probably pick up the signals sooner or later, a bit scuffed, but anyone notice any modulations in the Heartbeat Signal, any extra emissions, or anything indicating that the two things are communicating? It'd at least be useful information if they seem to be reacting to each other.


►notsosilent (Not a Spy)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
so technically not supposed to be putting this out here, but I know some guys in certain places that have taken a look at that signal...and it has some very interesting properties according to them.

and while they can't get into the actual encoding itself, yet, they have confirmed that there very much is some kind of communication taking place.


►ErieDigger (Technology Enthusiast) (Verified Necronaut)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
If the magnetosphere has you down, Kitty, you can always follow in Bell's footsteps and use a balloon. Pretty sure you can get a decent transciever in a modern basket and launch that up. No need to use a reflective shell and hope you're bouncing it right.


►Entrusting Peace (Veteran Member) (Steely-eyed Missile Man)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
Those of us here in the trenches are paying close attention to our new friends up top, just in case. So far, we see nothing much to worry about...not that we can really do much about it from here.

►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
alright, got word back from Washington. this is now receiving some major priority with the right people incase we have a first contact scenario on our hands.


►KaguyaUsagi (JAXA Official)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
Same on our end. the Diet is convening for an emergency session as we speak, and I am told that the Emperor has been notified of the situation by people in the know.


►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 27th 2010:
just caught up, and I have a bad feeling. Something big is about to go down. Keep your eyes peeled.


►ChickenKitty (Tastes like Chicken)
Replied On May 27th 2010:
The Lizard people He took the bait! All according to keikaku.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
we have officially confirmed that the unknown is a starship of some kind, and it is going to arrive on the moon in approximately two hours according to our estimates.

we have people rushing all over the place trying to figure out what's going on, so excuse the rush job. Will keep you posted.


►Tin_Mother (Moderator)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
I'm moving this thread to the main Earth board due to current relevance.
​

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■​

In: Boards ► Earth
Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Posted On May 20th 2010:
Alright, before anyone rips my head off, I know that there is a 'proper' UAS thread that gets updated. That is too slow for what is going on right now.

there is something happening on the moon. I don't know what it is, but something is up there and active in doing stuff. you can see it from a telescope if you look.

even with the odd crap that has been going on lately, this is a bit much. I think this one is serious.

​

(Showing page 41 of 255)

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Guys seriously something bad is about to happen I KNOW it


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
alright, I have a good look at what is now clearly a docking slip for that spaceship. got a really slick design for something built so fast.


►XScepter
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Damn, them Aliens know how to build shit quick.


►L33t (Verified Cape) (Uber and L33t)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
err...guys? I recognize that ship. there's a few changes, and it blends a lot together, but the base of it is the Normandy SR-2 From Mass Effect. There are other elements from an old Aleph game called Escape Velocity, as well...

I...I'm not sure this is as alien as we think it is.


►KitchenJitter
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Dang it! I was really hoping for Space Penguins.


►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Now is NOT the time, you idiots. this is serious business. let the professionals handle it.


►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 28th 2010:
GUYS LOOK AT THE MOON


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
oh dear god.


►PixieBob
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Oh my! It's Tentacle-Kun!


►Entrusting Peace (Veteran Member) (Steely-eyed Missile Man)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
...FUCK

NUCFLASH NUCFLASH NUCFLASH
​

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(Showing page 42 of 255)

►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
WHAT!?!?

Oh Fuck. I need to get my bosses on the line NOW


►BackTrack
Replied On May 28th 2010:
NUKE MOONS HAUNTED!!!


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 28th 2010:
I don't exactly have a pie-slicer on me, but I'm pretty sure that the plumes we saw were too big for an unnoticed impact, and also a little too large for conventional explosives that may have been left over from the Moonwalkers...


►Getter Buster (Peace is my Profession)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
@Entrusting Peace No, it's not a nuke. and the plumes are all wrong even for the gravity.

but whatever is going on up there, it's happening FAST. I'm counting at least eight, maybe ten separate effect zones.

smart money says the military is mobilizing right now.


►Miss Mercury (Protectorate Employee)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Official Notice from the PRT: we are investigating the active incident in case this is some form of Parahuman Prank. We will update as appropruate.


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
THAT IS NOT A PRANK

YOU CAN SEE IT IN BROAD DAYLIGHT FOR FUCKS SAKE


►JackHammer (Verified Cape)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
sigh Why doesn't shit like this ever happen on Earth Aleph?


►PixieBob
Replied On May 28th 2010:
IT WAS A JOKE PLEASE DONT KILL ME!!!


►L33t (Verified Cape) (Uber and L33t)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
I had an old piece of tech that could look up there....and all I can see are blurs moving around and explosions and lasers. whatever is going on up there is getting intense FAST


►Grey Knight (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Houston)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
...no. it's something else.

there's something else happening up there.
​

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(Showing page 43 of 255)

►Entrusting Peace (Veteran Member) (Steely-eyed Missile Man)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
That is a LOT of firepower getting thrown around up there. Some of the guys are looking at numbers and not liking what they are getting back


►BearyWise (Veteran Member) (Cosmonaut)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
@Entrusting Peace I know the feeling.

we have people actively monitoring the situation, but so far nothing is coming of it.


►L33t (Verified Cape) (Uber and L33t)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
oh god, one of the blurs slowed down enough for me to get a snapshot.

This thing is insane!! it's some kind of Snake-thing but with a ton of heads like a hydra nd they are all shooting lasers!?!?


►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
oh god..There's an entire Endbringer battle going on on the Moon.

and we don't know who's winning


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Forgive the delay but I don't always see with light.

I can confirm that those aren't nukes, right now. What they are, I'm not sure. The beams have a weird texture to them, I can tell you that. Like sticking your head in a CRT TV, except with the whine of a hand crank before each burst.

There are similar Blips, so something else is firing around that same sort of energy.

Also, I don't mean to alarm anyone, but I think the base is powering up, too.

Audiofiles(keep in mind, these have been processed) can be found here.


►SecDef Official (US Secretary of Defense)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
we are actively monitoring the situation on the moon and are standing by in case anything major kicks off. We will notify the appropriate individuals as need arises.


►kloggerknockin
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Guys I'm in europe and we can see it all over the place

everyone here is scared whats happening


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Chief, you're on PHO. I think right now you're notifying all the inappropriate individuals.


►WingWa
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Don't worry, already spread it out everywhere! Good luck trying to talk your way out of this one Fed!


►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 28th 2010:
oh god

something up there is MAD

like, REALLY MAD
​

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(Showing page 44 of 255)

►Juternil
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Why does it look like the endtimes? Seriously, there has to be more firepower up there than every cape fight happening around Detroit combined


►L33t (Verified Cape) (Uber and L33t)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
The snake thing is being held in place somehow.

and whatever it was fighting is completely going NUTS on it.


►Psycho Soldier (Not a Goddess)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
oh god.

There are humans up there fighting that thing. and they are beyond all reason.

I can hear the screams of rage even from here...


►mixelquick
Replied On May 28th 2010:
how the hell are you hearing screaming from the moon? sound doesn't travel in vacuum you dunce!

(user was infracted for this post: Keep it civil, please. Especially now.)


►Getter Buster (Peace is my Profession)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Look at the CRATER. It just keeps growing...


►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Okay what the heck is going on there are massive light flashes coming form the moon right now EVERYONE is panicking tell me


►ErieDigger (Technology Enthusiast) (Verified Necronaut)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
There are many things that can be experienced as sound. Back in the 70s a man made a device that let him hear through electric stimulus to the soles of the feet. It takes some training, but it works pretty well.

Your eyes won't like it though. Too much electricity in your body for too long messes with your sight.

This is ignoring synesthesia and other related conditions that pS could have.


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
Erie, That was informative and completely off topic.

But yeah. I got no clue.


►Endless Seeker (Original Poster) (Amateur Skywatcher)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
I think it's dying down. at least the flashing and explosions have stopped.


►Entrusting Peace (Veteran Member) (Steely-eyed Missile Man)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
I have some guys taking a look at the new landscaping and ballparking some numbers. be back when they have them.
​

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(Showing page 85 of 740)

►L33t (Verified Cape) (Uber and L33t)
Replied On May 28th 2010:
GOT IT

There were actual humanoids fighitng that thing!! Look At the pics and see for yourself. Some kind of advanced power armor, I think.


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
guys, that radio signal from the moon just switched out of standby.

I think we're about to get a repsonse.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
I'm being kept out of the loop on this right now, but supposedly JSC has been trying to make contact with whoever is up there.


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
guys...they're boradcasting in the clear.

on standard Radio.

IN ENGLISH.

There's a guy up there...says he's with the US Air Force.

what the hell is going on?


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 29th 2010:
What the hell was that? No seriously. What the hell?

Either there's something seriously wrong with their transmitter, or they tried at least five different protocols on a stunning array of frequencies before going to broadcasting in the clear.

Like they'd some how forgotten how to speak to our receivers.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
This ...this changes everything.


►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 29th 2010:
it's not over. not yet.


►Grey Knight (Verified Cape) (Protectorate Houston)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
Kid, chill out for a second and get a hold of yourself. whaddya mean it's not over? there's a giant snake carcass on the moon surface!


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
Space Snake Sous Vide, never ate that before.

Snake Jerky, sure. But prepared Sous Vide with a peppering of photons? I'm pretty sure that's some sort of Lunar Delicacy.


►KaguyaUsagi (JAXA Official)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
might not like it, I'm afraid. it looks like it's metallic or similar.
​

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(Showing page 87 of 793)

►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
True. I'm probably not french enough to enjoy it, in that case.


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
been listening in on the convo between this 'Pytheas Station' (which is apparently a moonbase (!!!) that is attached to that dock with the spaceship in it) and the guy on the line sounds like an old-school space geek. Also seems to be other people up there with him as well? I think they left the mic Hot by accident.

he also mentioned that we were missing a lot of transmission options from what he' s used to, or at least that they are out of range. should be interesting doing some digging.

also, does anyone know of a company called Transtar?


►electro_anarchy (Team Cipherpunk) (Hobbyist "Hacker")
Replied On May 29th 2010:
I'm listening in as well, and I just heard him mention he might be from another dimension or something.

is he from Aleph? or is there another alternate world that we don't know of?


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
where there's one, there's dozens. That's true of mice, birds, sick patients, and probably dimensions. It'd be a waste of space, otherwise.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
guys, something is happening in Orbit, I have to get back to work


►Ghost Dog (Team Cipherpunk) (Follower of The Way)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
wait, wht did they mean by they can kill the stupid bird?

the only thing bird shaped anywhere near them would be...

no. NO.

Please...don't give me Hope


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
he just said someone was going after it solo...that can't be right.

can it?


►Voxel (Unverified Housecat)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
Ah, it's about time someone swatted that potty pigeon out of the sky. My paws aren't big enough, you see.

Roast squab to go with our photonic snake? what good chefs our guests must be. And interested in eating metal, I suppose.


►BearyWise (Veteran Member) (Cosmonaut)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
the woman they are talking to (or child? the voice sounds very young) says that there is space on the station for others!!

if we can find a way past Ziz, we might be able to restart the space programs!!


►Entrusting Peace (Veteran Member) (Steely-eyed Missile Man)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
...no way. They have Aldrin up there?
​

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(Showing page 88 of 799)

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On May 29th 2010:
...oh my god.

It finally happened.


►KittyWhippins
Replied On May 29th 2010:
Live analysis is tough, but there was a sort of Dopplering(I'm simplifying) indicating that something went through the signal really fast and distorted space.

I'm pretty sure I just heard something leaving the dock super fast. Something small.

Here, it's a lot like a plane flying in front of antenna.

Edit: wait, WHAT


►electro_anarchy (Team Cipherpunk) (Hobbyist "Hacker")
Replied On May 29th 2010:
I did not just hear that.

I KNOW I DID NOT JUST HEAR THAT


►wired_frequency (Lost in the Signal) (Technology Enthusiast)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
I have recordings. I played it back five times just to be sure.

yeah...you heard it.


►Lord of all Stars (Veteran Member) (NASA Skywatcher)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
....we got the news direct from the top. I was the one who confirmed it.

it's real.

...I can;t believe that I'm the one saying this....but it's real.

Stick a fork in it.

Ziz is Dead.


►notsosilent (Not a Spy)
Replied On May 29th 2010:
getting word back form my friends, they are confirming JSC Skywatcher's report.


►Beneath the Anthill
Replied On May 29th 2010:
@notsosilent we saw it too. Tell your 'friends' that some people will be in touch for follow-ups.
​

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■​

---

Just me putting down the initial reactions of people to the goings on. This also helps explain a bit why the responses to Satori and Mio are moving so fast and so surely.

Next actual chapter coming soon, especially since my Muse is trying to strangle me as I finalize this.
SHout-out to the Celestial Forge Discord for assisting in the crafting of this. COuldn't have done it without you guys (and girls).

 

[Slider Zero]

Trying to wrap my head around things was being a little difficult at the moment. Most of this had to do with the presence of Washu, who was being exceedingly friendly at the moment despite the obvious terror her presence invoked.

"Please, calm down. I'm not here to hurt you, just to fix this mess here before it does actual damage to your soul."

I blinked at the statement. She had said mostly the same thing when she popped in, minus the soul damage part, but having been exposed to a Chaos God meant that I was paranoid as fuck with things that could potentially erase me with a thought, especially ones that had near-physical access to my soul.

Then again, this was Washu. If she wanted something bad to happen, it would have already, and there was distressingly little any of us could do about it.

That thought was enough to finally break the panic cycle and allow me to regain control of my emotions, which in turn helped calm down everyone else now that we weren't feeding into each other. Washu obviously noticed the change and immediately got started on her explanation.

"So, as I was saying, this here needs some fixing before it can do actual damage to your soul. Fortunately, the cutoffs worked as intended and shielded you from the worst of it, but there are still going to be some effects that were unintended." She pointed at one of the shattered pieces of stellar matter that used to be a node. "For one, you lost a good deal of data in that crash there, and some of it was actually useful for later. Suffice to say you are going to have to recover that on your own, should you choose to do so."

She then turned towards the busted gearing itself. "Then there's this mess. The system was designed explicitly to allow for you to draw from and in turn empower the pieces of the forge as you yourself grew in power, while also throttling some of the more outsized effects through a usable lens that wouldn't break reality too hard. Most of that was what broke, and fixing it is going to be the hardest part of this ordeal, especially considering the effects that have already managed to leak through thanks to the thing that caused it."

That last part caught my attention, something that was not unnoticed by the Eccentric Genius. "Yeah, this was a deliberate attack. That black corruption stuff you lot have been dealing with? It was an attempt at rotting you out from within, either pulling you to the side of it's master or destroying you where you stood to remove a threat. I suspect that whatever was behind it has been meddling on more than one occasion, too."

My mind immediately flashed back to Talos I, and the odd Nightmare that had beaten me across the reactor space. It fit the bill in more than one way. Mio seemed to agree, based on her own thoughts.

Wait a minute. She mentioned something about leakage?

"This leads to the other problem, and one that you may have noticed." Washu continued. "That leakage you are fixating on right now? It's a side effect of the corrosion settling in and weakening the…let's call it a lensing effect that would normally shield reality from buckling too hard under strain. Now, your buddy here," she nods absently at Watts, "managed a hotfix of sorts after the situation hit critical mass during your confrontation with the damned tumor shard, but the real fix was linked to something else that failed at exactly the wrong time and forced some adjustments by the system to compensate. The end result was something that not even I could have seen coming, and it's likely only going to get worse before it gets better."

I took it all in with a calm expression, even as my mind whirled. Everything she was saying seemed to imply something to me, a buildup to a very important piece of information that I had been missing. The answer came to me as I reconsidered our presence on Earth Bet in the light of that 'lensing' effect.

We were technically still inside the Necromunda Warp storm. And now that I knew what to actually look for, I could probably re-tune the scanner to pick up exactly that, if I so chose.

But that still left more questions. If this was the Necromunda warp storm, then why the hell were we on Earth Bet? More to the point, why was Talos I, Transtar, Pytheas, and everything else that was most definitely not native to the setting of Worm present at all? Did the weird portals on the planet have something to do with it?

"To answer your questions, it's more the warp in general than a specific place, and this is only partially your fault. And that is with me being extremely permissive with assignment of said fault." she added, very pointedly. "You had no way of knowing that trying to use a dimensional space transference spell would interact with chaotic space like that, especially because there are normally safeties in both the spell and reality itself to prevent that kind of mess. No, this was another failure point cascading from your pseudo-corruption by your not-so-friendly entity. Don't worry about it too much, you've already gotten it under control and converted to being beneficial, so it's not hurting anything."

I wasn't even mad at the casual thought scan at this point, especially since she just stated outright that the corruption issue was no longer a thing. Still, I finally found a voice for myself. "But this entire mess is still my fault."

"I just said it's not. Stop trying to take blame." Washu countered angrily, quickly cutting off my own self-recrimination before it began. "This is just a thing that happens sometimes. Reality is strong enough to handle it, for the most part. The few times it isn't is why realty likes to pick people to help solve problems as they arise. It's a thing…you'll get used to it, eventually."

As I'd likely get used to being steamrolled by the Genius Crab Lady. At least it was better than getting dealt with by the same.

Washu pointedly ignored my last set of thoughts, which were shared among the little hive mind we had going at the moment, as she moved on. "This world is one that you would have set foot on anyway, in due time, but instead of it being a thing that you can just fix and move on with, it got pulled from its normal place in space-time and settled here, close enough for the thing that is trying to kill you to affect. This, of course, created an opposing action on your behalf that pulled from the leakage that you were still unaware of and started merging with the world and the spacetime around."

"The concepts that govern reality stepped in at that point and shunted the entire mess to the side while it worked on fixing the tears caused by it (and that freakish warp storm), which is why you were stuck in this little pocket dimension here. Nothing is stopping you from 'escaping', especially now, but do bear in mind that reality is already strained enough as it is, and this world is going to have to rejoin the greater universe again at some point…and when they do, they are likely going to be defenseless against the horrors that this particular universe has to offer."

Translation: you don't help them, they die to warp monstrosities. Very subtle there, Washu.

The pinkette shrugged, completely unaffected by my unspoken sarcasm. "Don't act like you weren't going to do something about it anyway. I have enough insight to see that much. Still, the process isn't strictly defined as far as 'time' goes. It could be months or even years in here, or perhaps the same out there, before things hit a stable point and the scab falls off. Or some dumbass can completely fuck with things and break it even harder. Point being, this is going to be a thing for the foreseeable future, at least until it isn't."

Mio, my Mio (well, both of them were mine, but that was semantics) had been frowning in thought the entire time, piecing together things as they were explained. She chose now to respond. "So, you were willing, until now, to let us figure things out for ourselves. What changed, aside from the forge breaking on us?"

Washu nodded in approval at the question, a wide smile on her face. "Very good. I was wondering if you would catch it. Yes, I have been aware of your adventures and activities for some time now, as I have for all that have wielded the forge. It's part of the deal I made when I first created it and imbued it with those small bits of my knowledge and power." The smugness was dripping off of the last part, there, and I found myself frowning in resigned irritation.

"You mean helped create, right?" I snapped out, causing Watts and his wife ('Just call me Haley. It fits the theme') to look at me oddly. Washu, of course, was unperturbed.

"Nope, still all me. My pure science carries everything else!!" We all ignored the bragging, much to Washu's disappointment.

"Fine. Be that way." she pouted. "And to think I was going to explain more things too…"

Haley interrupted this time. "Actually, I know most of it, now. Thank you for your information!!" she crowed out, a distinct canary-eating grin on her face. "The Forge itself was originally created as a thought experiment by a bunch of bored demigods or something, and Washu got talked into contributing to the effort. The completed product was then distributed to all of those higher beings who were interested, for them to use as they saw fit. Nearly all of the recipients kept the thing to themselves, but there was at least one, maybe more, that let it slip to us mere mortals for some reason. This 'first' version was very much limited in scope and ability, and would eventually grow out from usage by the handful of beings that were gifted it, or something like that."

Washu waved a hand dismissively, clearly trying to downplay the other contributions to the (rather interesting) project that weren't hers. "Yeah, yeah, sure. But it was my genius that held the entire thing together!!" She then immediately switched over to sulking. "Even if most of the people that came across it have yet to truly tap into that gift of mine…"

I couldn't help it. I started laughing.

Washu's look of indignation only made me laugh harder.

---

"So, the one we have is kind of an offshoot branch of the forge itself?"

Mio was asking even more questions to sate her curiosity about the greater world, and in this case, the forge itself, especially now that she had one of its creators on tap. Washu, for her part, was lapping up the attention and generally being herself at the prospect of more praise.

"Somewhat. It's more accurate to say that the forge has grown into what you had here, at least initially, due to interacting with other branches of the multiverse by those who once wielded it. I know for a fact that at least one user helped save what little was left of his homeland from a dimension-spanning war, and founded an offshoot that still stands to this day. Another used her powers to basically ascend into godhood herself, and then used the gift given to her to help others as she saw fit."

Washue shrugged a bit. "I think there's still at least one person who was having some issues dealing with things, for reasons I had no interest in knowing. Probably something completely silly in hindsight. Besides, your setup is completely different anyway. For one, the double-bond setup you have works wonders for overall stability and resilience. You two saved each other from some very bad ends, and the results speak for themselves."

Mio hesitantly places a hand on her stomach, the slight pulse of the life growing within reassuring to her mind.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Here, please take these."

Washu immediately started handing out a series of objects, ranging from cups to notebooks to what looked like a sweater of all things, all of which had an interesting and vaguely wing-shaped logo that looked like the letters A and E meshed together in gold on a blue background. The pile was topped off with a small piece of paper prominently displaying the logo, along with some words that Mio couldn't read at the moment due to the pile of merch she was being forced to hold.

Washu was, once again, grinning like a loon. "This here is all of the great and awesome college merch that you would have gotten in your tenure at a certain university. It also includes your degree, by the way. Congratulations on being officially certified as a Space Engineer!!"

Mio blinked in confusion, still reeling from the onslaught of Washu.

Who was currently mumbling to herself? "Well, probably should also add Mobile Suit engineer as well, but that comes with the territory a bit…"

Mio gave up. There was no dealing with this woman on anything looking like a reasonable level.

Fortunately, she did not have to suffer alone, as her Satori was with her always…and thus could share in her misery. She could already feel his headache forming at his noticing the logo and certain implications involved with it.

Probably should ask a question about that…

Washu immediately started gathering a second set of merchandise.

Mio could only groan in resignation.

---

My wife's suffering at the hands of the mad scientist aside, Washu was going out of her way to throw hints and cautions at us that she really did not have to do on any level, something which I appreciated greatly. Especially since I now had to deal with certain problems related to those nodes that had forced themselves active.

The least disruptive of these was the small device I was currently holding (having recreated it from spares since we didn't have Hangar access at the moment), which was designed to take in any blueprint or design and convert it to the Standard Template Construct format for use by normal Imperial (or in this case, Federation) systems and practices. Useful to have, but ultimately not worth much to me personally. If we could somehow get a copy to Harry or the rest of the Mechanicus, that would be a different story, but for right now it wasn't that useful.

Even the addition of an entire library of collected combat techniques and jutsu, once lovingly maintained by the Uchiha clan, was less important in the face of what I was getting ready to deal with. And that was saying a lot, as even my casual run-through of the provided index showed that there was a lot more than just the various jutsu of its home universe. (The fact that it was merging with Thoth's notes into a greater library was somewhat concerning, but ultimately dismissed as harmless.)

No, the part that had me concerned right now was that piece of paper that was sitting on top of the pile of college merch that Washu had delivered via one of her doubles. And more specifically, what it represented.

The very literal Anaheim Degree of Mobile Suit engineering and design was burning a metaphorical hole in my mind at the implications of what it foretold…and what had come along for the ride, for that matter.

After all, Anaheim was the group responsible for them.

The three Beasts of Possibility…

The ones that had been recovered were sealed away for very good reasons. Quite simply put? Humanity was not ready to deal with the implications that those machines had attached to them. Not in the slightest.

And now I, along with my Mio, was the latest in a long line of shepherds and safeguards over the key to their incalculable power.

And I didn't want to be.

Psychoframe was one of those things that simply was too dangerous by far, despite the intended purpose of it being used to enhance Newtype control of a Mobile Suit. The main issue came in the form of those same beasts, the three that were built using full Psychoframe designs instead of only the cockpit, which had created quite a few issues in their time. In fact, the third of the beasts, the Golden Phoenix, was still loose and flying free to this day…and had likely been dragged along by the uncontrolled power surge affecting things here.

The fact that I could just as easily look at the Telekinesis-Link system (provided by another of those nodes that I immediately shorthanded into "the Alpha Documents") and say "but what about THAT!?!?" meant nothing. T-Link didn't allow people to literally fucking time travel.

And speaking of Newtype issues, there was my own awakening to deal with. As it turned out, being a proper Psyker also meant being a Newtype, simply due to how the processes operated. Likely due to both of the powers' connection to the soul, despite being a mental ability…but nonetheless, I had all of the advantages and issues of being a Newtype to deal with…as if the Force taking one look at the concept and wrapping it in itself as firmly as possible wasn't bad enough.

Sometimes power interactions could be weird. I'd prefer not to deal with them, but apparently somebody wanted to make sure I had something approaching proper empathy or some crap like that. The fact that it was now entirely possible for others to awaken as Newtypes themselves was a side note that I would deal with when I got to it.

I ignored the revelation of nearly 100 years of MS development and design that was contained therein. I could have done all of that myself, honestly, and probably better. Being a mecha fanboy did that for a person.

A sudden tugging on my senses alerted me to the inevitable: one of the many warp predators cruising around had found the beacon of my soul too tempting to ignore and was trying for a go. I felt the slimy thing trying and failing to paw at my very being and found it to be utterly repulsive…and immediately flattened it in my soul's light in retaliation.

The thing, whatever it was, was annihilated utterly, and the other denizens of the warp quickly backed the fuck off at the display. A similar sensation of Mio dealing with her own annoyances in her own way (this time by devouring the would-be corrupter in endless darkness) hit me, and I could feel her own resignation at having to now deal with this bullshit.

A sudden, direct and powerful tugging caught both our attentions at once, and it was all we could do to not be physically yanked along with whatever was trying to pull at us. I absently noted that whatever this thing was, it had a far, far firmer grip on us than anything associated with the warp had any right to be, which only raised more questions.

But neither of us budged from our locations, which, as it turned out, was exactly what the entity on the other side was counting on, as suddenly a woman looking very much like she should have been our daughter appeared before me. The only odd features out, aside from the aura of power she was surrounded by, was the ever widening smile on her face as she rushed to glomp me.

"FATHER!" The woman, who was in an odd way conceptually my daughter, quickly ensconced herself in my arms and started nuzzling. For my part, all I could do was hold her and contemplate.

She did not speak falsely: aside from the obvious physical tells, from this close the spiritual and conceptual inheritance was clear as day for me to see: Mio and I were, though the forge, responsible for birthing her into the world, where she took on her mantle of responsibility with aplomb and gusto…at least when she wasn't sitting on annoying time bombs ugh–

I mentally eased away from her as I started getting bleedover from her stray thoughts. I didn't really need extra worries right now…

The settling of a second weight onto my person signalled Mio getting involved in the impromptu cuddle session, and her thoughts were both light and teasing, both of which I ignored for now.

"So, then, not-so little one, what brings you here?' I asked. "I get the feeling that this was not something you could have done casually, before."

My daughter in spirit shook her head, despite not removing it from her continued nuzzling. "No, I couldn't. Not with everything being as busy as it was, and all of the things I had to do. But when you flared up so bright just now, I was able to get a stable lock on both of you and come to you, at least for a moment."

She finally pulled her head out of our embrace to look me in the eyes. " Father, apologies for ruining things, but I'm kind of filling in for the God Emperor of Mankind at the moment."

Both Mio and I blinked at the comment, before the implications set in, and then we shared a groan. It would seem our daughter had already been making waves since her birth…

*whap*

"Owwie..."

Mio's tail came up and whapped our child upside her head. For her part, she took her punishment in stride, even if she was now grimacing a bit and complaining slightly. I only grumbled softly about it, as Mio had beaten me to the punch on doing the same, and there was no reason to punish her for the same thing twice.

"Anyway," Mio said, "we have yet to handle introductions. I am assuming you have a name?"

I felt more than saw our daughter's wariness, and quickly sent thoughts of support and caring to her through the Force. (I was actually getting pretty good at this, now that I think about it.) She both visibly relaxed and seemed to take a great deal of energy from my minimal efforts, so I called it a win.

Finally, she spoke. "I…I might as well pull the bandage off. My name is Alaya."

To this day I am shocked I did not freeze up at hearing that name, and the attached context to it. Alaya, the former unconscious will of humanity to survive. Alaya, master of the counter guardians, protectors of humanity as a whole.

Alaya, sister-goddess and offshoot of the world spirit Gaia.

I was immediately reminded of the strange emptiness I had felt back then on Talos, of Mio's desperate search for something impossibly precious that we had lost somehow, and knew the truth of the matter right away.

A sudden pulse of power from both Mio and I silenced the oncoming wave of despair, though. It seemed to resonate within us for a brief moment, then echo back towards Alaya, before bouncing between us again and again, finally settling into a small spark that immediately rushed off to parts unknown.

Vaguely, I could feel something settle into the world itself. Small, weak still, but growing every moment and becoming stronger from our efforts and the energy it was now siphoning off of us all, as it reached outwards.

All at once a sense of great relief hit me, and it took me a moment to realize that it was not just my own, but Mio's and even Alaya's as well. An echo of gratitude and determination came back from the small spark that was our other child, and I couldn't help but break out into a grin.

So of course Washu had to show up and crash the party. "You do realize that with the way things are going that letting Gaia do her thing unattended is likely to cause more harm than good, right?"

The three of us shared a unanimous nod. "Not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon, lady." Mio quipped, a hand rubbing her belly. "Besides, we're still doing fix stuff…or at least we were before getting wrapped up in here with you."

Washu chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. I'll leave you two to it for now. Just one more thing before you run off: I'm not going to be able to do much of anything to help you if things go wrong, as I have to dedicate all of my effort here to making sure that this mess," She gestured to the obvious, "doesn't get worse. I would like for you to at least get something more out of this, especially as you have barely cracked the surface of what the forge can really do. Still, if you need me for something stupidly desperate, I'm available as an extra hand, but that's about it."

I nodded along. It was more than fair, and she wasn't wrong. It was going to take one hell of a situation to really push beyond our combined capabilities to at least put a bandage on it for long enough to get a real fix in. Which was not to say that it couldn't happen anyway, just that most avenues were covered.

I knew better than to tempt Murphy in that manner, especially after the last time…

Alaya pushed off from the group hug. "I have to get back to work, now, but a few things before I go: The Force is acting along the warp to change some things, giving people an option instead of just letting them burn with the daemons. Also, I'm using my new remit as the Will of Humanity to empower all the humans across the galaxy that I can reach. I had to use the Astronomican (and its current battery) for the signal boost, but the results speak for themselves. As for what I wanted to tell you: the first resolved itself (and I am grateful for that), and for the second: I just need your permission for something. Don't ask, just say yes."

As bemused as I was by the byplay, I could easily sense that this was actually important, so didn't tarry. "Approved, Alaya."

Her sigh of relief was all the proof I needed that a bullet was dodged."Oh yeah, one last thing: don't worry so much about the implications of things. We have to learn sooner or later how to use and control our gifts, after all. Better to do it with someone around to prevent accidents than having to do it alone."

Alaya nodded to herself, as if checking off an item on a mental checklist, before gathering energy around herself for whatever technique she was going to use to get out of here. Curious, I peered deeper into the swirl of power…and nearly ended up rolling on the floor in laughter.

The Alaya before us was naught more than a simple projection, and the brief glimpse that I received of the 'actual' Alaya was that of a pouting woman stuck in place on one of the rests of the Golden Throne, her demeanor clearly that of extreme annoyance…and it was insanely cute, to boot, something which I am sure she absolutely hated at the moment.

Of course, Mio quickly noticed the focus of my attention, and was immediately in the throes of her own spat of giggles.

Alaya's projection paid us no mind. "Take care of yourselves, please. I don't want either of you to end up dead or worse before you get out of this little mess here. And I'll make sure that Harrisyn gives you a call soon, too!!"

Wait, what?

Of course, she was long gone by the time I could even comprehend the statement, and with it any ability to gain answers as well. I could only gin in annoyance at her chosen method of revenge.

Cheeky girl…

---

The days following were mostly normal, for a given value thereof. The government had finally gotten around to getting some proper ID issued to each of us, along with setting up proper documentation required for certain hurdles present in local administration. We generally rolled with the issues presented, as tame as they were, as they came, as there was another project that was garnering our attention. And shockingly enough, it wasn't Harry.

No, we were finally getting down to fixing our cores' issues with integrating the Chozo technology, along with the needed upgrades to the system as a whole. And what was coming out was not pleasant in any capacity.

[T: Current system estimates for proper refactor would render your frames inoperable with the cores themselves until properly reintegrated. Estimated time with current complexity is seventy-two days. Any additional upgrades to the systems of the suits will increase the time needed.]

Yeah. Can't have our cake and eat it too. As good as the upgrades that had been applied to Thoth and Minerva were, they were not good enough to bypass the reintegration time for the frame itself, which meant that performing the upgrade at all would remove Valkyrie-grade firepower from play, along with the other advantages offered by the cores themselves. It was something that we were debating about as we set up the adjustments themselves.

"Still, Mio, with you being preggers, I think it might be a good idea to get Minerva upgraded first–"

"Yes, I know the argument, and I understand it. But I have at least another few weeks before I am unfit for combat. Let me at least keep her active to set up Thoth's upgrades?"

And for once we weren't playing around about it, which was a mark of how serious this was. Neither of us wanted to take our best cards off the able, even temporarily, and especially with Mio in egg belly mode, but there wasn't much we could do about it without sitting on another problem altogether. It rankled quite mightily and made me want to hit something, but everything in the hotel room we were staying in was far too fragile to survive the level of force I could put out.

Besides, Mio's point was completely valid and understandable. Being potentially open to attacks was not something that either of us wanted to happen under any circumstances, but…

Fuck. Sometimes this shit got hard for no reason.

"Alright, fine. We can wait a couple of weeks for you to show more before we start on Minerva. Besides, it'll give us more time to figure things out."

Her small hum of appreciation (and the enthusiastic hug) did much to erase the minor sting of defeat.

The initial planning was by far the easiest part of things, as it did nothing more than lay out goals to be accomplished, which were as follows:

1.) Ensure proper integration of Chozo Power Suit and all related technologies and systems into cores.

2.) Complete proper integration of psychic and psionic detection and control technologies. (Potentially look into–ugh, I can't believe I'm even saying this–psychoframe as a potential medium)

3.) full integration of Mana usage and related technologies into Core and/or Frame. At a minimum, Thoth would need to be able to operate as a basic piece of magitech.

4.) ensure all upgrades are reproducible for future iterations of cores as appropriate.

The list was short, but dear god was it daunting, even for us, simply because of the amount of actual work that would need to get put in to ensure that everything was on-point before the actual implementation process began. I actually did something I rarely felt the need for and opened up a series of multitasking instances to handle the design, specifically at Mio's urging, solely so we wouldn't be in design hell for months on end.

And this was with us taking into account the latest tools available to us, no less. A Valkyrie Core was just something that was that complex to work with.

That being said, there was some good news to happen to us, mostly in my finally gaining legitimate internet access and discovering the infamous Parahumans Online Forums. A quick set of account creations had me introducing Mio to old-school (for her, anyway) Internet communication for the very first time, which was a novel experience for her in seeing just how things worked back in the (relatively) early days of the information networks.

Of course, I managed to find an insane thread chronicling the initial discovery of our presence on then-Pytheas station, along with the days leading up to Orochi's attack, and even the fight itself, complete with video links to people having recorded the fight being visible in broad daylight. The followup threads describing the still ongoing party at the Simurgh having been confirmed dead. By comparison, the few photos that had been taken of Mio and I in public were completely without much notice or scrutiny, and something in me wanted to know why the hell we weren't getting as much interest as I was expecting.

Some more generalized trawling of the online news media pulled up why: there were a number of refugees coming through the various portals all over the world, and all of them shared the same distinct identifying feature of being at least partially some kind of human-animal hybrid to some degree or another. According to the reports, conditions on the other side were…bad. Bad enough that most of the countries still stable enough to do so granted blanket amnesty as a general rule to any of the people coming through, provided they went through standard medical checks.

"I see you found the refugee issue." Mio snarked at me, before turning decidedly somber. "You might want to take a glance at the medical records of the people that are coming through. You might see something interesting."

That lone was enough for me to immediately start hacking down the various medical databases to get the relevant info…and what I found was…concerning.

Every last one of these refugees, to a being, was easily confirmable as being infected with oripathy, and several of them were looking like they might be in the extreme later stages as well. What complicated things was that the refugees were being deathly silent on the issue, refusing to cough up any form of information whatsoever on their condition, and creating a not insignificant amount of headaches and confusion for the local docs.

And the World Health Organization had no clue whatsoever as to what was going on, believing the various effects and such of infection to be some kind of natural phenomena.

The only good news was that most of the patients were getting shipped around to various hospitals and institutions to receive treatment, and the greater portion of those located in the US were being moved down here to the Medical Center, with most of the rest shuffling through the various Service hospitals, and a small portion (currently holed up at Bethesda Medical Center for some reason) being earmarked for Panacea when slots became available.

Of course, I already knew what I had to do.

"Mio, I think we need to make a trip. Get as much medical gear as you can find, and kitbash the rest. I'll call the watchdog crew. We roll in five."

---

Surprisingly, it took very little to get our handlers onboard with getting us to the Medical Center. The quick explanation from the field team lead told us much: most of the intel types were aware that there was something they weren't being told, but the ongoing medical concern was a higher priority. The fact that we seemed to know what was going on was a bit of a balm to their nerves, though I was intentionally being just as vague on details until we actually got to the patients just to be safe.

No, it was the Medical Center Admin Staff that tried to give us trouble. Despite having multiple Federal Agents with us, the staff refused under any circumstances to let two unknowns have access to their patients. I was honestly touched by the genuine concern being shown here, even if a few of the upper-level admins were looking into the originium growths with more than medical interest.

Too bad for them I'm a fucking ninja. All I needed from them was confirmation of which hospital they were actually in.

Memorial Hermann Hospital had the distinction of being the main hospital network for the city of Houston, as well as the de-facto centerpiece of the medical center itself. Considering that the hospital actually predated the formation of the Texas Medical Center, it made a bit of sense. The fact that it was a legitimate Tier 1 trauma center probably helped as well.

It was also, in another world, where my little brother was born, decades ago.

I suppressed a pang of loss as I moved about the building in question, being one of the many outcroppings of the old Hermann hospital that was built over the years, searching for at least one of the refugees, who would likely point me at the rest. So far, it was a bit of a bum search, though I did find plenty of long-term care patients that I helped out along the way with a small bit of magical healing.

Amusingly, the nurses on duty quickly caught on to what I was doing and why, and instead of, oh, calling security or something, started not-so-subtly directing me at harsher cases that 'normal' medicine was having issues with. Mostly stuff like tricky cancers, variations on a theme of Alzheimer's (which I purged with a furious vengeance and some additional psionic backing: I'd lost both my father and his mother to that nightmare, and hated it with a passion), and similar. The one attempt to direct me to the Multiple Sclerosis patients that were on-site and not in the resident neurology wing was met with a shake of my head and an extremely brief explanation that I currently didn't have time to help them…yet.

It did cover for Mio as she crept in and got detailed scans on their issues for later fixing, though.

Eventually, the nurses relented and 'let' me spot one of the refugee kids playing around on the floor, running all over the place. A quick once-over told me much and not at all: he was dark-skinned, easily within the color ranges for the average stereotype for latino-descent, and had a clear pair of black-tipped fuzzy ears sitting atop his light brunette-haired head. It was the floofy ringtail that cued me in to the kid being of the anaty subtype, though.

I moved in on the kid with all of the stealth available to an adult trying to pull a harmless prank on a child: that is, none at all. And as expected, the young boy still didn't notice me park right behind him, being too busy gushing to the nurses.

"See!! I told you I could do it, Miss Nadia! I told you!!"

The nurse (who I assumed was the Nadia in question, I could check the tags later) was all smiles in her response. "Of course, you told us you could. And we didn't listen. Still, that was no reason to go around trying to prove yourself. You still need some rest, after all."

I chose that moment to cut in. "Actually, I'm surprised he's not even more hyperactive, considering. I think only cautus kids are worse on the energy spectrum."

The boy whirled around with a speed that would have dazed anyone else watching him move. I, of course, was not affected, nor was Mio, who had finished searching her section (and doing scans of problem cases) and catching up. The boy's eyes widened in pure awe as he saw Mio stride up, an already beaming grin widening even further. Then he looked up at me…and caught sight of the Medical Operator badge I had worn specifically for this purpose.

One blink later, I was picking myself off of the ground and trying to balance the new weight settling on top of me, the raccoon kid doing his best to squeeze the life out of me with his sudden glomp-hug. I vaguely heard and felt what I suspected was the poor kid crying as well.

I pointedly made no attempts to remove him from his perch in any way, only slowly rubbing circles into his back…and avoiding the crystallized section sitting dangerously near his right lung.

Eventually he let up enough to actually let me get a good look at him. His eyes didn't have the slight dark ring surrounding the socket that most raccoon-type anaty did, but his eyes were still a clear gray, shining with life.

I just wish the rest of his body matched up. The kid was frail, clearly malnourished to a great degree and slightly sickly looking…and yet he still managed to have all this energy. If not for his oripathy…

I very carefully held back the tears that threatened to form at the obvious, instead returning his grin with one of my own. After all, he didn't have to worry about that anymore. Not after today…nor ever again.

"So, what's your name?"

The boy smiled even more, somehow. "I'm Marcos! Seven years old! Are you here to help treat people?"

I shrugged slightly. "It depends on what you need help with, Marcos. And if anyone else with you needs help as well."

Marcos took the bait with the enthusiasm only a child could have. "Yeah!! Mama says that a lot of the elders are needing to relax more because of their ora…oru…omur…orikathzy. She said that nobody here knew how to help, but you're a healer! So you can help them, right?"

I nodded. "Of course I can. I just need to take a look at everyone before I can get started. You mind me meeting your Mama?"

"Yeah!! Come on, this way!!"

And with that, I was quickly dragged off by young Marcos towards his mother, and, with hope, the other refugees. Naturally, the nurses were laughing at me the entire way. I didn't begrudge them one bit.

Mama Marcos was a pleasant looking woman, sharing many of her son's features, with the exception of having silverish gray hair instead of her son's brunette. She was currently dozing lightly in her elevated bed, a small knitting project sitting next to her that she'd obviously slipped off while working on.

"MAMA! I FOUND A HEALER!!"

Key word being was.

She awoke with a frightful start, the various monitors around her adjusting their rhythm as she processed through her mild panic, only to immediately calm when she realized it was just her son being energetic. And then she turned to look at me, and her face became wooden. Then she looked further, saw my features, including the twin fluffy tails, and her face shifted again, this time to one of barely disguised (and ruthlessly suppressed) hope.

I decided to take the first step. "Good afternoon. Your son here seemed to think that you were in need of a medic for…what did he call it…oh yeah, 'orikathzy'. Mind if I do a quick check, Ms…?"

"Anya. Anya Belnades. And yes, you may."

The checkup was extremely simnplistic, to the point that there was even an out-and-out originium art specifically for that very purpose. My use of said art clearly caught her attention too, as she seemed to relax even more afterwards, making the follow-on process even easier.

Mio's rendition of her surface thoughts was better left unsaid, especially as I had no desire to kill people today. At least, not yet. After all, I'd have to actually find the appropriate assholes to deal with in the first place. By unspoken agreement, Mio left to gather the remaining materials for what we would need, not that there was much left to get.

Miss Nadia decided to ask some question while I was working. "So, what exactly is going on with them?"

I felt the spike in tension from both of the Belnades, and ignored it. "Degenerative disease known as Oripathy. Most common method of spread is through extended exposure to, or direct contact with, unprocessed originium. You familiar with Command and Conquer?"

Nadia looked thoughtful for a moment. "Red Alert or Tiberi…oh."

I nodded softly to confirm her suspicion. "Yeah. The stuff is similar enough to Tiberium that they may as well have the same warnings attached. Common symptoms look like cancer at first. Hardening skin, scabbing over at the point of contact, then eventual internal burns and skin crystallization. Past that point, it's all downhill: Lesions looking like radiating lines on the skin, internal crystallization, the works. Eventually the progress gets to the point where, due to inability to respirate or intake nutrition (even through IV, it's been tried), organ failure sets in."

A thought occurred to me. "Have you had any fatalities yet?"

Nadia's attempts at deflecting told me everything. "I'll need to see the bodies later on, as they are a hazard if not properly handled. Spread the word on that one, too, as this is important. I don't want to see this spreading any further than necessary."

I continued further into my checks, not paying even the slightest attention to the sudden despair permeating the room. "Anyway, back to business. Infection progress is divided into three stages, Early, mid, and late (stage I, II, and III respectively), and are measured through a combination of two factors: Cell-Originium Assimilation and Blood Originium-Crystal Density. Dumbed down, they measure, respectively, the level of assimilation with the infected's cells, and the density of originium particles per liter of blood. Higher numbers are bad. For example, I was at 25% COA minimum and at least 0.34u/L density last time I checked, some months back, with a quick and dirty field test…it's probably higher now."

Anya winced at the numbers, knowing full well what they meant.

Yes, Anya. I was terminal.

Miss Nadia nodded solemnly. "But what about treatment? Surely there is some way to stop this?"

I made a point of remaining silent while I finished my checkup on Anya. And as for the results of that check...she was even worse off than her son was, and even my basic scans showed quite clearly that she would soon be moving into the terminal stage of infection, and from the look on her face she was well aware of what was happening.

I responded to Nadia first. "There are methods to slow the progress of the disease down, extend life for a good while. It'll be in constant pain, and with a fuckton of oddball side effects depending on how the assimilation progress goes. I myself was struck deaf for a while, along with a strong bit of obsessive compulsive behavior. Oh, and also pain. Lots of pain." I shuddered in remembrance of that day, the memory still all too clear in my mind. "Hell, it even got my damn tails," I waved the appendages in question for emphasis, "which is why they are so incredibly large and fluffy. Also let me control them on a near-prehensile level, too, but that is beside the point."

I felt the unasked question from Anya in my fucking soul. She was fighting so hard to suppress the swelling of hope inside that it was almost painful to let her suffer…but it wasn't time yet. Instead, I started some supplemental checks as I continued the topic.

"I should note that not all the effects are negative. Aside from my tails, I also got a pretty massive across the board boost as well, to both my physical aspects and my ability to use arts. Don't worry about the second part just yet, it's something I'll explain later."

All checks completed, I stepped away from Anya's bed…or at least tried to. It was as I was pulling away that she reached up and grabbed my arm, her grip insistent. "Please…my son…"

I turned and looked her dead in the eye before gripping her arm back just as tightly. "You don't have to worry about that." I could feel the relief hit her at knowing her child would be cared for…but I had intentionally delayed the rest of the bomb. "...After all, you'll be able to do it just fine yourself."

Marcos, who was listening in the whole time, immediately cheered. "You mean it? I can play with mama again!?!"

I turned back to the little ball of energy with an even more infectious grin. "Kid, by the time I'm done, not only will your mama be fine, but so will everyone else. I promise."

I had to actually dampen my own empathic sense (at great difficulty, no less) to avoid the sheer burst of emotion that hit the room just then. Anya's grip on my arm tightened significantly, while Marcos all but leaped at my back and immediately tried to choke the life out of me with a power hug.

I could vaguely hear the nurses laughing even harder in the background, but I didn't care. This was happening, and nothing short of a literal GOD was going to prevent it.

---

You can imagine my surprise when the completely unthinkable happened…and Murphy didn't punish me for daring to invoke him so blatantly. Still, the results spoke for themselves.

Mio had returned with the required ingredients within record time, and together we whipped up a nice little concoction that would do wonders for the infected. It wasn't a cure (yet), but it was more than enough to knock even near-terminal cases like Anya's into significant remission.

Which gave us long enough to whip up a bunch of the actual cure. In fact, we even had multiple variations thereof, depending on what people wanted to work with. The standard version was a full purge, no questions asked…and which had the potential for some nasty side effects on those more heavily infected, even with the strong healing serum it was mixed with. It was a low possibility, but it was there all the same.

The second was based on my own compromise with oripathy, combined with lessons learned from observation, and was designed to instead properly integrate the originium infection into the body. A set of neutral nanites was included to keep the stuff in line, just in case. Still, while it was a guaranteed win, it was also the worse of the two options, as it wasn't a 'proper' cure, just an adaptation. The plus side is that it made applying the first version a lot safer for those deep into the infection stage…but at the cost of extended treatment.

The third was a highly experimental variation of the second based directly off of blood samples from both myself and Mio, and was included and created at the direct urging of the Force when I considered it as method two. The one major difference was that this version contained the odd variant-type originium that was now present in our bodies, something that was even now still changing and adapting thanks to the nanites. At least, that's what we thought, anyway…

Though why the Force was so insistent on my making that batch was beyond me. The other two were more than up to the task.

There was an open-plan general containment section that had been prepared for the use of the refugees while they stayed, complete with beds and an entertainment selection to use for everyone. There were also several rooms allocated to the group for the more severe cases or for those needing privacy for various reasons, but from a casual glance most were unused at the moment. It did make me wonder if this area had always been like this, or if this was some kind of special setup specific to the situation. I decided to ask later.

The group of refugees was a mixed bag. I saw a lot of elderly, women and children in the mix, which concerned me greatly as the only reasoning for that kind of distribution was if the actual men of the group were left behind to fight. That, or whoever was managing the movements of these people was being intentionally annoying to the group as a whole.

The racial breakdown was just as varied. I saw quite a few cautus and zalak(mostly the mouse types, oddly enough), some more anaty of the weasel variety (looked to be an extended family unit of some sort, and were notable for having some of the rare adult men), a slightly larger group of kuranta, the normalish distribution of felines and perro (and who, amusingly, were a single family unit), and even a few ursus in the mix, which I found odd but ignored it in favor of actually getting things done.

The only odd note out was the pair of vulpo curled up together in the back, alone, and both clearly in considerable pain, thus becoming my first targets. Mio instead split off to try and find anyone who was legitimately in charge of this ragtag group.

Our arrival on the scene was not unnoticed, and only the fact that I was clearly a Medical Operator kept the group from closing ranks on us out of reflex. It was only after we had already started setting up, and Mio asking her questions, that it was noticed that Anya was actually on her feet for a change and moving around, something which caused a considerable stir, as quiet as it was kept.

Because despite the overall mixup of people in here, they forgot somehow that the foxy-types had some of the best hearing on the planet, and that was before the enhancements I'd gone through. They might as well have been screaming into my ears with those whispers of theirs, though I tuned it out to deal with my current patient.

"Hey there. I'm Satori, and I'm here to help. I need you to sit up for a moment, okay?"

The groan I got in reply was all I needed to help the poor man up, and what I saw was not good. He was covered in scars and half-healed wounds, some of which had started to crystallize, a clear sign of recent exposure. Worse, most of his left arm was crystallized to a large degree, as was a bit of his torso. My best guess was that he had an hour, two tops, before organ failure set in. It did beg a question, though.

I moved to prepare an injection for the guy as I spoke, making sure to pitch my question high enough for everyone to hear. "Why didn't you tell anyone that you had gotten this bad? The nurses could have helped you."

I received a shake of the head in return. "They…can't…help…"

"Hey. Stop talking for a moment, you'll have plenty of time for that later. Right now you need to relax." I accessed my omnitool for the first time in what seemed ages to apply some medigel to slow down the oncoming crash. "And that's why you got this bad. Stop being stubborn and let the professionals do their jobs. They aren't useless."

The immediate improvement in the man's demeanor did not go unnoticed, and the reaction slowly rippled through the room. I filed it away for later, moving to clear and clean an injection site.

The man tried to stop me. It was a futile effort. "What…waht you doin…?"

"Helping. Now hold still, this is going to sting, then burn."

Despite the attempts at protest (which required me to actually use a damned tail to hold the idiot still) I managed to get the meds administered. Now, just to wait for the effects…

The guy let out a loud grunt of pain, followed by an outright growl as the meds did their work. I paid close attention to his physical state, making sure that he didn't lock up or manage to still crash on me despite his system working to heal itself with the administered boost.

Unfortunately for him, this was the type two, which I'd needed to use simply because of how far gone he was. There was no way to actually get his body into stable enough shape for the type one to do anything but kill him off after his system purged. I was not willing to risk using my light-based healing magic and risk another overload, especially when I wasn't sure what might happen as a side effect with originium involved.

I vaguely heard someone try to move to stop me, only to get slammed around by an annoyed dragon. The remainder took the hint and watched the reactions instead.

And, slowly but surely, the process took hold. I could already hear his heart beating more steadily, the lungs taking in more air as the blockages and growths cleared themselves while the micropunctures sealed up. I took a moment to angle his head slightly just before the inevitable coughing fit hit, and could only laugh when another bystander (this one trying to be helpful instead) got splattered with the mess.

Most importantly, though, I, and everyone else, watched on as the crystallization of his body slowly reverted, first back to scablike tissue, then back to normal skin. I took that moment to look the healing man directly in his eyes, and the change was night and day, as his vision slowly cleared and the tired that was in that gaze lessened considerably.

Which was more than acceptable, so I started the cleanup. "Alright, you're looking good. I need to help out your buddy, too, so go on and stand up."

The guy slowly raised up his left arm, now once again whole and healthy, and slowly flexed the fingers, a wide look of wonder on his face. He then looked back at me with that same awe, and I was somehow still shocked to see tears in his eyes.

I actually expected the hug this time, if not the intensity thereof, as he wrapped me in a death grip and all but bawled on my shoulder, a constant steam of "thank you" coming from his lips.

This time, I didn't shield myself from the emotion. I wanted to feel this, the outpouring of long suppressed hope overcoming the sea of despair that he–that everyone here–had been swimming in.

Mio quickly returned to my side and started treating the man's partner…or perhaps his significant other? She was very female, after all. Guy was lucky to have her. (I deliberately ignored the large masses of scarring, disfigurement, and general ugliness of her oripathy, injuries, and especially the crying, more or less in that order. Mio would take care of it all before she was done.)

Turning slightly to get an angle on the rest of the room, I called out. "I need two lines!! Stage three and severe cases at the front, then kids! Females, if you aren't comfortable with me, line up on her!" I pointed to Mio as I barked out orders. "Anyone with family or friends somewhere else in the building, go get them and bring them here if you can. If you can't, get me or Mio here, and we'll go to them! Let's go people, I want this done sometime today!!"

I still don't know who it was that started cheering, but soon the entire room was awash in noise as the shouts of joy and happiness crashed through the room.

My only thought, of course, was that this was, indeed, a Job Well Done.

---

Anya Belnades had long believed that her family was cursed.

Her husband was lost to her in the purges, shielding her and her then unborn son from the butchers even as he pushed them towards freedom. Her brothers, sworn by her lost husband to protect her and his legacy, dead in the wastes as they ran as fast as they could. Her mother, who had intended to midwife for her birth, died shortly thereafter from her own infection, leaving Anya the last of her line, alone and heavily pregnant in a ruined wasteland.

Only her own Operator training had saved her, her rudimentary skill in healing arts and Defensive techniques being just enough to keep her alive until her baby was ready to be born.

And when her son was finally born, into squalor and ruin, it was but a few short years of relative happiness and peace, despite their squalor, before the problems found her again.

Her Marcos, named for his lost father, was infected while they were travelling between locations, shards of Originium crystals from an unknown creature piercing his skin and depositing the damning poison into his body before she could react. Her own infection had not helped matters, rapidly progressing to the point where even the boost it was providing her in protecting her son was falling short of the malus it inflicted on her.

And then came the days when the scavengers found her, and held her son hostage against her own good behavior.

It was only the direction of her own infection that had saved her from becoming another broodmare for their cause…not that they'd known that at the time, nor did they particularly care.

She preferred not to think about those years.

The whirlwind of events that followed her eventual rescue, song with her son and other captives, and the leadup to arriving in this strange new place with the odd people was not worth mentioning other than it happened, especially as it was shortly thereafter that her own infection robbed her of her ability to walk.

The healers of this place tried, they really did, but the combination of lack of knowledge on what even originium was, let alone oripathy (and wasn't that a shock to many of them) did not help them in any way. That the group in general, along with those whom they had been mixed in with, had also closed ranks and avoided actually trying to let the strange people help them was, in hindsight, also a bad decision…but trust was hard to come by in the wastes.

And so, she had resigned herself to dying in a strange land, leaving her son alone in a world that he didn't understand…and that he himself might not be much longer for, himself.

At least, until He appeared.

She was still trying to process the events in her mind, despite his having explained them to her at least three times already.

This Satori person had also been infected, stricken at the worst possible levels and doomed to the grave, when he had found something. Something that had let him work around the issue and push past the disease, to claim his life back from the jaws of death itself.

And from that, he had taken notes. Done research. And then formulated the impossibility that even now was being administered to the ecstatically happy crowds surrounding he and his partner.

An actual, honest to god CURE.

And, just like that, the nightmare was over. Her son, restored to full health, and assured a happy life free of the terror of being infected. Her sacrifices and struggles for his sake, all vindicated in one single moment.

Herself, her own body, specifically a certain part that she had believed forever lost to her, restored to function as if she had never been injured in the first place. And Anya was sure that the other women of the group who had suffered similar fates in that department had noticed the difference, noticed that certain processes and pains had returned to them.

And they all knew who was responsible for restoring their future to them. And, as per Satori's instructions, word was spreading. Quickly.

As if he wasn't already seen as a hero, practically a god, among their group.

Anya could only chuckle in her mirth. That poor man had no idea what was coming his way…none at all…and she was going to make sure that, when the time came, she was first in line.

Because this hero was damn well going to get his reward.

After all, she fully intended to personally make sure of it…

---

On the Moon, inside of the Lunar Colony base known as Miakoda Station, a presence stirred. Born from the fusion of technologies largely arcane to most mortal minds, and then shaped by the processes that allowed them to merge together instead of flinging themselves apart, it finally awoke from its self-imposed slumber, fully aware and whole at last.

And it–no, she–knew that she had a task to perform.

Utilizing the nascent abilities granted to her to form a body, based in part off of the scavenged DNA of those who were effectively her creators, she quickly flexed her will, accessing the base's computer systems in order to seek out her objective.

It did not take long.

Target set, she moved. Those who were still on the base, and that were currently acting as its permanent inhabitants, were none the wiser to her presence as she glided through the halls to her objective. (in truth, the Fairies had noticed her long ago, and quickly surmised her objective. The poor dear was subtly being guided to where she needed to be without actually noticing.)

And then, she arrived. The otherspace between dimensions, that contained the place where she was once born, and would again return to. She slipped inside, headed for the signal produced by her intended target. She paid no mind to the state of things, the massive clutter and jarring mess caused by certain difficulties. Nor did she pay any mind to the newer additions to the space, things that would have been far removed from possibility for many even months ago.

And she arrived at her destination, a room with a simple display, and a confirmation box.

[ACTIVATE THE TOWER? Y/N]

And with a single motion, Risa, the Mental Model of the strange new ship type known as the Rising Phoenix, and current flagship of the new and improved Fleet of Fog (name change pending), set in motion the vast machinery of the ancient weapons testing chamber. Her job complete, she left the room to locate the fabled resource generator room, in order to stock up on essential materials.

Unbeknownst to her, in doing so she also activated another object of significance, hidden from her sight. Only the flashing status screen told the truth of the matter, even if only for a brief moment.

[TOWER ACTIVE. TESTER UNITS 1-4 ONLINE AND PROCESSING]

[AGE BUILDER ACTIVE. INTEGRATION INTO TOWER SYSTEMS COMPLETE. SENSOR RELAYS ONLINE.]

[DOWNLOADING LOCAL DATABASE. BEGINNING FIRST TEST SEQUENCE IN 3, 2,...]

---

---

Yeah. This chapter is a bit of an explain-e-doo and exposition/worldbuilding. It was also the first time that the world of Terra, setting of Arknights, was seen in force. Satori's actions here will have a massive consequence, as Oripathy is a curse that stretches back millennia on that world…

Breakdown on the listed races above: In Arknights the standard humans there (yes, they call themselves humans, but are formally known as 'Ancients' unless otherwise stated) are broken up into separate races depending on what specific set of animal features they get. The listing for those mentioned in chapter are below, as well as their animal analogues. For more information, see the Arknights Wiki. It's where I got my info from.


Anaty (Musteloids, incl. otters, weasels, and raccoons)
Cautus (Leporids (rabbits and hares))
Feline (Feliforms, incl. domestic cats (Felis sp.), non-domestic cats including big cats (Panthera sp.) except lions (see Aslan) and mongooses.)
Kuranta (Horses (Equus caballus), incl. Zebras)
Perro (Dogs (Canis familiaris))
Ursus (Bears, incl. giant panda (Ailuropoda melanoleuca))
Vulpo (Foxes, specifically those of the Vulpini tribe, though exceptions exist. Satori is part-Vulpo.)
Zalak (Rodent-like animals incl. true rodents (rats, squirrels) and – oddly enough – phalangeriformes (Australasian opposums))

Also, for those of you aware of what just happened: Yes, I did in fact do that.

 

[Slider Zero]

Time had an odd quality to it when you were in combat.

It could move both incredibly slowly and at the same time impossibly quickly, or even vary from one moment to the next, swapping between extremes with no rhyme or reasoning whatsoever.

It was something that Harry was long since used to dealing with, even before you added in Chaos influence to the mix. Because, unsurprisingly, the forge world of Ryza was under attack from all sides, seemingly every ounce of firepower not already directed at Mars itself being focused here.

Harry didn't even bother wondering why. He already knew full damned well what was going on. The heretics and Xenos had figured out that one of the STC copies was here, and wanted to remove it from the picture by any means necessary.

It was rather unfortunate that they were not having a good time of it.

The Speranza, commanded by the AI Silent Lightkeeper, was basically controlling entire swaths of the void as Chaos warships attempted to break past it, to no avail. The Ark Mechanicus continued to prove it's worth, even as the damage piled on and systems began to strain under the pressure. Had she been alone, it would have been a noble, if ultimately futile, gesture of sacrifice before the planetfalls and bombardments began.

Unfortunately for the aggressors, the Speranza was most definitely not alone. And the ships accompanying her had just finished their refits under the new processes using the full STC documents and databases.

The result was a slaughterhouse of epic proportions as the forces of Chaos attempted, to no avail, to grind their way past the wall that was the Speranza and her escorts, the escorts each wielding weaponry of a like that had not been seen since the Dark Age of technology. Lances of photonic energy and miniaturized antimatter warheads found their mark with ruthless efficiency and calculation, and the shields and hulls of the corrupted vessels broke and shattered under the assault.

The Xenos threat (As usual, the Eldar) was similarly facing the best of humanity and being found wanting. The damnable knife-ears had managed to slip by the initial cordon and were attempting to harass the inner defenses while covering for a planetary drop of some kind. Unfortunately for them, they once again faced the fury of the Adepta Sororitas, and Sister Vanalyn's mission did not disappoint. Their powered suits had been upgraded with superior power supplies and armor plate, and had even been equipped with void shielding at one point, making them all but invulnerable in individual combat. Likewise, their weaponry was even deadlier than before, now sporting the latest in a long line of deadly advancements to come out of the forges of the world below.

Still, for all their fervor and zeal, some managed to break through the line. Far more than Harry would have liked, but it was a reality of war.

Of course, that same reality of war had marked him, stationed onboard a defense monitor, as a form of last line of defense. It was a task that he was executing to his utmost…much to the dismay of the oncoming horde of enemies. Magical blasts pierced the shielding of the Eldar ships with only moderate resistance, and even that was adjusted and accounted for as Harry placed down hundreds of 'turrets' in the line of fire, all unleashing their deadly payload upon the fools who dared test him. His own Siege Wall shielding held steadily, denying the enemy an advance route and any method of a clear shot on his person as well, much to the attackers' frustration. He would have chuckled at the phenomena if it wasn't for the fact that the Knife-Ears were making even grander plays to gain access to the surface and the priceless treasure within.

Once again, he found himself having to thank his friend for the knowledge bestowed upon him that now allowed him to defend Humanity from its enemies.

The destruction of one of the Eldar ships caused him to break out into a wide grin. Why, he could even hear the screams of frustration and despair from here!!

---

Alaya watched carefully the battle of Ryza as it unfolded. The forces of Chaos were tricky, and she was expecting some form of deception to make itself apparent sooner or later. The addition of the Eldar was not helping things in the slightest, especially as they were intentionally using the ongoing Chaos assault to try and slip in to destroy the STC that was below.

Unfortunately for them, their Farseers had no idea that the Sisters of Battle laying waste to the Chaos forces had every scrap of information contained within the precious machines stored in their frames, nor that several of the Sisters still retained their personal copies of the miniaturized STC that Father had made for them to carry out into the wider galaxy. Nothing the damned elves could do would stop the spread, now, not unless they had the means to utterly destroy the finest soldiers of the Imperium in technology that, in many ways, exceeded even the grandest heights of humanity's potential.

And her Father had granted her permission for the one thing that would tip them all over the top.

Slowly, surely, she threaded the precious few bits of power she could spare around those chosen for her next task…and kindled within them the sparks of something greater.

The process would take time, of course, especially with how stretched she was at the moment, but when completed…

Those humans would be given the opportunity to ascend to something greater than ever before.

She absently noted the large push being organized by Chaos, including a massive world-engine dead-set on annihilating the entire planet, and ignored it. It was for naught, especially since he had fully awoken and was soon to arrive to Ryza's aid.

The fools would never know what happened to them.

---

Dipomer the Pale King, Whirling Schemer of the Undivided Masquerade, looked on his works with an amused smile. The corpse-worshiping fools had no idea that his world engine was coming to them, and soon would be in position to annihilate that pathetic planet and all it held. They fought the dregs of his fleet and thought it a victory!!

But soon, his work would be completed, and the accursed database destroyed in the name of the Four. And the galaxy would know the true strength of the Gods and tremble at their might.

He was tempted to let loose a dark chuckle at the circumstances, but decided against doing so until his victory was at hand. No reason to tempt the fickle ones in this task, after all.

One of the slaves manning the sensors spoke. "My king, there is an anomalous void contact approaching us."

Dipomer frowned. Such actions now, of all times…"Is it alone?"

"Yes, My king."

He nodded to himself. "Send a scouting team to ascertain its identity, and destroy it if it is hostile. Do so now."

The slave trembled in his chains and tried to shrink himself away from his King's gaze.

"Well? Perform your task, slave, lest I find one who is more adequate!" The threat of what would happen to the slave in question went unsaid.

"...My King…I have already sent the orders. The scouting element will be arriving soon."

Ah. That was the issue.

His most recent batch of slaves was an…acquisition from a rival who had fallen in his bid for ascendancy and left his infrastructure behind in his wake. Dipomer had recovered all of it for his own use, and retrained those who had need of it. This slave obviously feared returning to the conditioning pits for being actually proficient at its job.

"Excellent. Well done, slave. You may yet earn your freedom and serve the gods truly…but not yet. Inform me of any results immediately."

Because actual good help was oh so hard to find these days. No need to punish slaves for having initiative…as long as it stayed focused on the proper paths, that is.

A flash lit up the view screen for a moment as the battle turned in an unexpected fashion…except that hadn't come from the battlefront.

A premonition settled onto Dipomer. "Status Report!! What was that light?"

"Unknown, my king!! It came from the direction of the anomaly…scouting elements have been destroyed!! Unknown cause!!"

WHAT!?!

That was impossible!! Those ships were full Void Cruisers, refitted with the finest in necrotic hull plating! No mere single ship could possibly have dealt with them both that quickly!!

"Anomalous contact accelerating fast!! Heading…directly for us!! It's on a collision course!!"

Another slave piped up. "Sensors are giving out erroneous readings!! They say the contact…is a single man?! No protective equipment!!"

"CONTACT SPEED INCREASING!! BRACE FOR IMPACT!!"

It did no good.

The anomaly slammed into Dipomer's ship with the force of a thousand suns, tearing its way through everything in its path on a direct course towards the bridge. He could feel it, now, the way it was moving, with such a purpose. He silently donned his helmet before the arrival of the odd force, lamenting the loss of his new slaves. They were actually competent…

The expected arrival happened, along with the equally expected destruction. And Dipomer got to see his foe.

And was confused as all hell…as his opponent seemed to be a mere child. And oddly dressed, too, what with the strange almost-but-not-quite void suit and ancient jacket. The Star Crest on the child's chest was obviously decorative, but for what purpose eluded him.

Still, had to keep up appearances. He deliberately laid hands on his scythe, yet unnamed, as he stood to face the intruder. "HAH. A Mere child comes before me, the Pale King?! What fool venture are you on, boy, that you think to challenge me?"

The boy merely stared at him with a blank look, the golden locks of hair doing nothing to soften the intensity of his gaze.

"Ah. Silence it is, then. Know that you face Dipomer the Pale King, Champion of Chaos Undivided!! You shall fall in the name of the gods, and your soul will be devoured for your insolence!!"

The flash of light that followed was disorienting for several reasons, the least of which because he was suddenly missing his arms.

"Nah."

The boy outright scoffed at him!! HOW DARE HE!?!

The strange child waked forward, looking around the bridge while Dipomer fumed, his long, bright yellow-gold scarf trailing behind him. "I don't normally like hurting people. I prefer exploring, honestly. It was what I was made for, after all…" There seemed to be an almost wistful look on his face, then, as he lightly touched some odd talisman on his hip.

What manner of daemon used a golden circle for a sigil? Dipomer wracked his brain for an answer.

"Thing is…" the boy continued, "you guys are kind of an exception to that. Your so-called gods stole the stars from Humanity, would steal all hope and joy from them as well. I…really don't like that."

The child turned back to the fuming chaos lord, who was even now trying to scream obscenities at the boy and failing due to an unexpected malfunction of his vox-caster, with a smile on his face.

And the boy's smile was anything but nice.

"I'd like to show you something, if you don't mind."

Again, Dipomer could not respond, except to charge at the child before him.

Who threw him back at a bulkhead with zero effort. "Sorry, but no interruptions. I want to make sure you get a front-row seat."

And with that, the boy calmly cupped his hands together in front of him, centered on that star crest…which immediately began to shine with light.

And the light burned.

"Normally there's a bit of a process to do this, a whole setup and all, but…I've been asked by miss Alaya to skip that part today."

Dipomer collapsed to his knees in soul-wracking pain as the light scoured him merely by its presence. And it was growing. Spreading, almost like an infection, throught the ship…and everything around it.

"So, quick version it is. I'm sorry I didn't get to show you what you were missing."

The Pale King's screams of agony went unheard as the light grew stronger. Through his helmet, he could vaguely hear the rest of the crew, even the daemons sealed into the hull, being scorched by the light.

Worse, Dipomer knew that light. He'd known it once, as a boy, before he found the gods and the true path, back when he believed there was a better tomorr–

Oh. That's what it was.

"Yes. That's what it is." The boy answered him.

That light…was Hope.

"Don't worry. I'll guide them there, as they asked. I am the vessel of Humanity's Hope and Dreams, after all."

The last thing Dipomer saw was a serene smile before all was washed away in the glaring light of his discarded hope, his own dreams of something better.

And somehow, even as his vision was washed away in light, he heard the soft voice resonate throughout the ship, throughout the very void itself.

"Pale Blue Dot."

---

Harry stared in awe at the light that erupted in the void, as a then unknown world-engine and its escorts were annihilated in an instant. He heard the desperate calls for more information, the screaming about status reports, and ignored them all in light of the simple truth that somehow his bacon had been saved again by Satori, even if indirectly.

Or, rather, that the annoying being that had been trying to worm its way into his psyche had finally made her point.

'Alright. I'll listen now. What do you want?'

An amused chuckle was his response…along with a slight tug towards a section of space. Simple observation revealed what he was meant to be looking for, as a strange figure materialized itself from the void as if by magic to land next to Harry on the monitor's hull.

The child–no, that was clearly a young man, upon looking further– looked up at him with a beaming smile and bright blue eyes, visible even through the goggles he wore.

"Hi. I'm Voyager, and Miss Alaya asked me to help. Nice to meet you!!"

And with that, the young man extended a hand in greeting.

Harry could only grumble in frustration at what his life had become.

Again.

---

The joyous laughter of children echoed in the room as Mio and I did our work. It was actually quite therapeutic just listening to it, even with having to deal with newly hyperactive kids causing the ruckus. Their parents were still entirely too shocked (and in many cases, crying tears of joy) to even attempt to stop them, not that it would have stuck.

Administering the medicine that would cure the people of their Oripathy was going off with nary a problem, not even a slight hitch in the program, as eager patients lined up to finally be rid of the curse that burdened them for so long. Many of the adults regaled me of things that they had done in the past, mercenary work or time spent as a contract operator for one company or another before the spread became too much, and they were forced to retire. I listened to them all with no complaints, and if I made a point of ensuring that some of those ex-operators got the dosages that would attune their bodies to originium instead? Well, it was time well spent for a better operator in the end.

This, of course, was excepting the kids' antics, including their making a point of crawling all over me whenever possible and generally treating me as their newest and best uncle ever, as I considered that part of the reward that they could even do so in the first place. The kids, sensing weakness ahem, acceptance, only made a point of playing even more, except where it interfered with my administering treatments.

Mio would normally have been laughing at this, except that she got hit with even more of the kids going for the brute-force adoption method, even going as far as to call her "Auntie Mio".

Naturally, she stood no chance against the weaponized cute, and was wrapped around their fingers in short order.

This is not to say that the adults weren't doing prowling of their own. I had noticed the shift in the emotions of the women of the group, something made even easier because of how many there were compared to the men. And a great deal of them were openly checking me out, and, more to the point, making sure they were seen, by me, in doing so. Combined with the unmistakable feeling of blatant lust mixed with determination I was getting from Anya (who for some reason I had a much easier time of noticing from the crowd–something to look into later) made their intentions practically transparent.

In any other situation, especially if I had been alone, I would have swept them all up and given them what they wanted with a happy heart. Unfortunately for them, I was very much happily married, and Mio held absolute veto power on their getting to "reward" me…something that most of them had not quite grasped just yet. The ones that did were either all already attached, and thus not trying to throw themselves at me (with the exception of one of the mouse girls who made it clear that her entire family was "on the menu" if I was interested–and explicitly did so through her husband) or were old enough that they believed themselves unattractive and thus, not a "worthy" prize.

I was actually more surprised that Mio hadn't killed anyone yet, as this had to be setting off her yan buttons.

'It is, but the fact that you are actively holding out, and I can feel it, helps calm me.'

Well, that was a good thing. At least she wasn't going to go ultraprotective dragon on people for eyeing her man too hard. I really didn't want to explain to the hospital staff why people were dead and Mio was nuking their hospital in a cold fury.

I could feel Mio pouting. 'I am not that bad, and you know it. Stop overselling my bad spots.'

'But it's so much fun to tease you~!'

'Fine. See if you get any more pussy for the next month.'

I didn't bother to hide my mirth. 'Woman, I haven't touched you for nearly ten hours now. I know you are on the verge of jumping me. Stop making empty threats'

She only pouted harder, which I found ultra cute, and thus exploited for full value.

Still, that left me with having to find a way to let down the women seeking to offer themselves to me somewhat gently with the news that I was taken. And, in one particular case, finding a way to make the word 'no' actually stick.

Because Anya Belnades was making it extremely clear in ways I still didn't quite get that 'no' was not a valid answer. And that she was willing to push the issue until she got what she wanted…and I got what she felt I deserved.

Even worse, little Marcos seemed to be well aware of his mother's plans and was not-so-subtly cheering her on, while simultaneously trying to wear me down on accepting the idea. It was looking to be a rather nasty snarl if it kept up.

The weird part is that, unlike with the rest of the women, who were at best being opportunistic (and the zalak family, who were just perverts and proud of it), Mio's protective streak wasn't threatening to erupt and cause problems with Anya's advances. If anything, Mio seemed amused at my flailing in trying to get her to back off, though she made a point of not actually showing it…physically, anyway. I had complete access to her mind, and thus front row seats to her personal comedy theater, starring myself.

Let that be a note for others: sometimes it is not worth it to be connected so intimately to your lover, especially when they are seeking to extract their revenge from you.

The worst part is that Anya never actually said anything. She just made sure that she was in a perfect position to make sure that she never fully left my awareness for any reason, and the subtle gestures she was making only accentuated the effect even further. It was almost as if she was somehow awakening as a Newtype or something…but that was impossible…right?

The feeling of an amused giggle from a direction vaguely defined as 'down-left' and a distance of 'yes' did not soothe my fears. Seriously, I did not need to add Newtype BS to everything I was dealing with right now, especially not the weird harem aura effect that the stronger ones like Kamille tended to get. I was married, dammit!!

More giggling, somehow even more amused. Guess there was no help coming from that direction. Whichever of the women on the other side was playing at being god this time was going to hear it from me the next time they decided to come close enough. (the distinct sensation of feathers and something that for some reason mentally translated itself to me as 'Challenge Accepted' had me briefly thinking I may have messed up ever so slightly, though.)

Still, the process completed itself in short order, the people rejoicing in their newfound freedom from the stain of Oripathy on their lives.

I decided to at least leave out on a good note. "Alright. Anything else we can do for you guys before we head out? Aside from what most of you ladies want, anyway?"

The theatrical groaning from the women aside, there was only one request that we got from the group was to head down to the refugee shelter that had been set up for the newer arrivals awaiting the usual government BS and check over them as well, as many would try to hide their infected status or play it off until the symptoms became severe or obvious enough to draw attention. It wasn't an unreasonable request, by any means,

Naturally, Anya volunteered herself, and by extension, Marcos, to show us the location of the current setup, much to the dismay of the other women who hadn't thought of it first… or maybe it was because Mio was projecting her aura now, and the others could feel the displeasure of the stupidly powerful dragon in their midst.

Still, there was one thing that needed to happen before we left the hospital proper.

The nurse guiding us was friendly, though a bit strained due to having been strongarmed by the suits, who had finally managed to beat the hospital administration into submission. "This is the on-site morgue. We've got the bodies of the few deceased stored in biohazard isolation, just in case there was an infectious agent we missed. The bodies were scheduled for autopsy in a few days, but…"

I nodded in appreciation. "Don't worry, we understand. The problem with infected is that...well, the bodies need to be disposed of properly to prevent spread of Oripathy due to how the damned thing works. Cremation is generally the safest avenue, depending on how soon you get to the body, but there are a few other methods you can use if need be."

The cliffs' notes of my little rundown on Oripathy was already making its way into the greater medical knowledge base, mostly by miss Nadia having transcribed everything into an email and shooting it off to her superiors, who then passed it up the chain and around the country. Thoth was noting in the background that a lot of traffic on that subject was getting fired off to multiple locations, including the CDC and WHO. Unsurprisingly, there was an immediate push for various medical agencies to obtain the treatments for their own use as soon as possible…and several instances of messages that Thoth flagged as being from potentially malicious actors about trying to weaponize Oripathy in general.

My workload got ever larger the more I tried to do, I swear…

Anyway, at least in the short term, the benefit was that the local docs and nurses now knew how to deal with most cases of Oripathy and the attendant side effects. Sure, Mio and I were the only ones who could actually create the medicine, mostly due to factors that I was still hashing out the fixes for, but the treatments were easily applied and fast-acting for all but the most extreme cases, and even then a bit of basic medical guesswork would tell you most of what you needed to know to make a decision.

The inspections of the bodies was a brief and somber affair, expedited by my need to contain the potential originium dust spread from the disintegration of the bodes themselves…at least none of the dead here were exploding, unlike what some infected would do upon death.

Did I mention Oripathy was a nightmare? I may have missed that part.

"So, all you need to do is follow these instructions for dealing with the bodies, and you should be able to minimize exposure hazards." Mio stated, finishing a simple writeup of the instructions on a loose sheet of paper, complete with clipboard. "You shouldn't have too many problems with that, but if you do, please contact…er…" she turned to me with visible confusion. "Is there an actual centralized public affairs office over there? I can only find the individual tenant offices. Should I just have her call the Air Wing?"

I shrugged. "That might be a bit high level, but I don't see why not. The 147th Medical Group should be abler to redirect to the proper people, even though they are part of the Air Guard Wing." Mio nodded and scribed the requisite contact numbers before handing over the entire clipboard to the still slightly overwhelmed nurse. "Thank you for your time, and hopefully we see you again under better circumstances. Have a nice day!!"

I kept my snickering to myself. The poor woman did not need any more abuse heaped upon her.

---

Nearly an hour and a ridiculous amount of paperwork later (as the Hospital still wanted to get paid, not that I blamed them), Mio and I were escorting the Bellnades family out of the hospital and towards the location of the refugee housing, our intelligence minders in tow. Marcos was as excitable as ever, while his mother was far more subdued and somber…and just as unrelenting in her still unspoken stance that I was going to be tapping that ass of hers.

Fortunately, I had the sights of Houston to distract me from her ongoing slow-roll seduction efforts. Unfortunately, the reality outside the vehicle was not one I had expected.

It must be noted that the Houston I know was a vibrant city, full of people and life and energy, even in the wake of an unprecedented pandemic event that forced the city to effectively shut down. It was a kind of strength that kept moving forward, no matter what, and it was a great deal of how Houston had become the fourth-largest city in America by population, in my old home.

This was in stark contrast to what I saw laid out before me. Row upon row of abandoned buildings, many of them old office buildings that had gone unused for far too long. Businesses shuttered, never to be reopened. Houses, even here, closest to downtown, that laid barren and empty. The city was literally a shell of what it could have been, what it should have been, even when compared to how things were in my time. The disconnect was quite jarring for me, and I think it was the primary factor in my recognizing something else that I had been subconsciously ignoring.

I'd already known that my senses were enhanced significantly as a result of my transformation and augmentation into a fluffy fox dude, and boosted even further with the advent of chakra, but having my conscious attention suddenly called to it by the mental bump that was the current City of Houston was…unpleasant. It made me suddenly and painfully aware of everything that I had been shutting out almost on reflex, the smells and sounds that all but shouted at me in their intensity as we moved towards our destination. I could literally smell the level of desperation and hopelessness from many people, the distinct odor of not having been able to bathe in multiple days mixed with the acid stench of urine standing out clear as day to me…and I was nearly a hundred feet from the person it was wafting off of, and upwind no less. Likewise, the sounds of people and the city echoed around me, the slow shuffling steps of the many, many homeless lining the streets adding their own sound of despair to the mix of already depressing noises and sounds.

The only saving grace was that despite my enhanced senses, I seemed to be filtering out the more annoying things, like that screeching noise coming from the trains as they braked, and the other background bullshit that would have likely driven people crazy if it didn't get filtered out.

Mio, as always, picked up on my mood shift. 'You alright?'

'Just adjusting a bit to what I'm seeing. The Houston I know was not this bad…'

Mio was not fooled, even if I did tell her the truth. 'So you're not getting overwhelmed by everything you're picking up?' I could feel the metaphorical flat look she attached to that statement, and couldn't help but flinch at being caught out.

"Mio, I'm fine, at least for now. I'll get used to it."

My speaking this aloud eased her concerns, and she let the subject drop…for a moment.

I noticed her attention shift to our surroundings. "Still…this place is so run down. Odd for a major city to be this bad, isn't it?"

I sighed. She was right, but the reasons why were…annoying. "Well, most of it has to do with parahumans and the bullshit that surrounds them. Then there's the Endbringers, specifically Leviathan, knocking out cities every few months as they move along. Between the two elements, most places don't stand a chance, which has caused a bit of an exodus to the suburbia and countryside for people as institutions break down and things start falling apart."

Mio frowned, then quickly shifted her concentration to something else. I vaguely felt her 'brush' by me in the digital aether, and then she was off and gathering data. It was mere seconds before she was finished, after which she quickly crunched the numbers, compared them to historical notes from her own dimension, and then started riffing my memories of what should have been.

The spike of fury nearly destroyed the entire block from sheer pressure alone, and I only just managed to counteract the external effects of her rapidly growing aura as it flared. She simply glared forward for a long moment, and the poor sods who happened to he in her line of sight nearly had heart attacks at thinking that it was aimed at them. In an attempt to calm her down, I looked over her digital shoulder to see just what had set her off so badly…and only barely managed to not lose control of myself in the process.

Earth Bet, based on Mio's data gathering, had, at it's most optimistic, twenty to thirty years before total societal collapse. The combination of the advent of parahumans, the breakdown of global trade as a result of Leviathan's presence and attacks, and the overall effect of the Endbringers in general on the world as they attacked–no, surgically removed–critical cities and infrastructure around the world was damning.

The worst part? It wasn't for a lack of effort on the part of the remaining organized nations. The US alone was experiencing the kind of problems that would have crippled almost any other country on the planet, and somehow still chugging along, if only just. This was despite having several major cities openly listed as Hives of Scum and Villainy, a label that was an outright admission that the rule of law had failed in those places and there would be no further attempts made to take the place back.

The fact that Houston itself had only escaped that fate due to being the main posting of Eidolon, the world's strongest parahuman, was not lost on me. Nor did it slip by that by the criteria listed, several other cities in the US were effective Hives of Scum and Villainy despite not having the label attached to them.

It didn't stop there. Multiple aspects of critical infrastructure of the US (which actually had available and public statistics, unlike other nations outside of North America) were in severe disrepair, and being openly left to rot. Mio pointed out the semi-infamous Brockton Bay Boat Graveyard, an entire east coast port closed down and blockaded due to the simple fact that nobody wanted to actually take the time to fix the issue, even with the multiple thousands of tons of scrap metal up for grabs in the area. The port of Los Angeles only remained operational due to the destruction of the Panama Canal (actually, the entirety of Panama itself) by Leviathan creating a shipping bottleneck at the remaining hub, and even they were in dire straits.

And this was before you got to the fact that the vast majority of Florida, as well as nearly the entirety of Mississippi and Louisiana, were completely underwater, including several major ports and Naval bases. The US Army Corps of Engineers, already dangerously short-staffed due to forced drawdowns and budgetary re- allotment to the PRT, was backed up for over 18 months on critical tasks, and more were being added to the queue practically every hour.

And this was just in the States. The World picture was even worse the further out you got, with only a bare handful of stabilizing influences managing to hold things together despite the oncoming crash that people had to see coming.

And this was all from public databases and figures, what little bits were available, anyway. But, this was not the end of it. No, not at all…for this data didn't take into account the effects of the bleedover, or the introduction of a brand-new landmass in the Atlantic Ocean.

Her second set of calculations and observations had taken the disruptions into account, and what it showed was nothing less than apocalyptic.

Earth Bet, without direct intervention, had less than five years before total societal collapse of all remaining nations, nation-states, and/or polities. And depending on what happened between now and then, like some dumbass setting off scion or something, the timer could drop even lower.

Wait. Why had that thought just popped into my head?

My train of thought having been interrupted, I finally noticed the small nudges that the Force had been giving me, pushing my insight into certain directions and allowing the proper conclusions to form.

Unless we acted, and Right Fucking Now, Bet was doomed.

Well then. Good thing I was here, then, wasn't it?

I Immediately opened up another 200 or so process threads in my head and got to designing shit. Right now the single biggest limitation we had was that Mio and I could only be in two places at once, and with Mio being pregnant I was very much not willing to risk her on some of the more intense jobs, regardless of her skill. (I ignored the mixed annoyance/exasperation/love from Mio over my protectiveness, as she knew damn well why I was thinking like this.) This meant that I was going to need assistants who could be where I wasn't, and do things to standards that the people of Bet could not…at least, not yet.

An old games store caught my eye, along with a faded poster for "the latest imports from Earth Aleph!!"

And featured on the front was none other than the Master Chief himself. The sight calmed me a bit, bringing back good memories of better times…and a bit of curiosity as to whether any more forerunner-related technology was present within the forge. I could use an Engineer or two about now–

I could feel Mio's smirk. I could feel the Force smirking just as hard. Hell, I felt that odd being that felt like flame and feathers smirk too.

Time to get a revolution going.

---

"We're here!!"

Anya watched her son run around the refugee shelter that had been hastily built for the arrivals from their world as they filtered in, his tail swishing wildly as he ran. It was not the worst of places, by far, but it was still a refugee camp, with all that came with it. The tents were sturdy enough, and held up well to the elements, but it was obviously meant as a temporary measure…at least, officially.

She knew all too well how things of this nature could go, and was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It would, soon enough. It always did.

Still, the fact that her son was moving around, completely carefree, was an ever -soothing balm on her weary soul. She tried to ignore the greater balm of having been restored to her own health and wellness, but certain itches prevented her from ignoring it, or the reason why.

Satori was a strange enigma, handing out priceless treasures riches like they were worth less than nothing…and expecting nothing in return for services that would have otherwise incurred life-debts. The lack of crystals on her stomach and breast was proof enough for that. It was part of why she had resolved to make sure that he was the first to give her a, ah, test drive, as it were.

And her target was nowhere near as naive as he seemed. He'd caught wind of her intentions almost as soon as she had formed them, and had been doing his best to softly deflect her from her goals, using nearly every trick in the book, including pointing out that the Draco that was his partner was in fact his wife. She had, of course, ignored all of them in favor of making her intent even clearer without crossing any more lines, which he had also understood despite having never actually spoken on them in any capacity.

She giggled softly to herself. It would seem that whatever interesting things were following him around had decided to bless her even more. All the more reason to make sure that he blessed her newly healed womb.

After all, his wife didn't seem to mind too much her flirting and silent propositions, despite otherwise being a jealous lover. Still well below the norm for a draco, almost permissible in fact, but noticeable all the same.

Still, he seemed to be in contemplation on something as they had traveled to this place, along with gaining a newfound resolve that shone forth from his soul like a bonfire. It was almost blinding in its intensity…

"Mom, come on!! I wanna see if Mr. Fawkes is still here!!"

Marcos' exuberance snapped her out of her near-trance. As usual, he seemed to be everywhere at once, and even now was all but bouncing off the surroundings with boundless energy.

She couldn't help the smile on her face, nor did she want to. "Alright, Marcos. I'm coming. Give me a moment." She turned to her companions. "So, this is the place. I'm assuming you are going to run treatments for the people here as well?"

Satori nodded. "That, as well as some other things that need to be taken care of. See that building over there?" He pointed at a run-down building that was likely slated for demolition, across from what looked like a grocery store (interesting name, this "Fiesta" though). "That right there is going to be your new home once we're done with it. I'll bully the city into letting it happen if they try to complain. After that, we can clean up the camp and get everyone situated. How's that sound?"

Anya blinked. Then blinked again, just to make sure that she wasn't seeing things. Rubbing both sets of ears confirmed that yes, her hearing was just fine, and that she had indeed heard the man who had saved her life, saved her son, had just promised them a new home for nothing.

And you wonder why I want you in my panties?

He at least had the decency to feel embarrassed at her not-declaration, even as he continued along. "This is, of course, after we finish treating the people here. I'm assuming that the vast majority of you were infected?"

Anya nodded. "As far as I know, it was everyone. The few who were uninfected tended to be runners to the towns and homesteads for food and supplies."

"Well, you aren't going to have to worry about that for much longer. I'm gonna get in touch with some people and set up a few things while I work. The food issue should be solved in short order. Clothes are going to be a different matter, because of the needed modifications, but we'll get to that later. If I need to, I'll just fix everything myself."

Anya turned to Mio with a look of absolute shock. "How."

The remainder of the question went unsaid: how did you manage to catch him?

Mio's oddly demure shrug told everything. More he caught me…

The moment was interrupted by Marcos pulling his mother away insistently. "MOM!!"

She allowed it with undisguised mirth. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Now where was he at again?"

"He was over here somewhere!! I think he was trying to fix one of the purifiers or something–"

---

Mio looked over the refugee camp as they performed their duties, focusing more on the people than the obvious temporary nature of the camp itself.

Prior to their arrival, there was an air of guarded optimism amongst the occupants, a clear thread of "we made it here, but aren't sure if it's really what we want". It was an understandable reaction, based on the bits and pieces she was pulling from their surface thoughts simply by being nearby.

They'd had it rough, getting to this point. It would be some time yet before they believed that the worst of it was over.

Still, that left her with the amusing task of how to upend their world even harder than her Satori already was doing by being himself. That man simply had no idea just how powerful he really was, and She had no inclination on informing him of it just yet.

There were still too many things to fix that needed a blunt instrument to fix, as opposed to his preferred precision. Better to let him build a power base with these people while they were still new and unconnected to the rot festering within the systems of this world, that they could be ready to step up when the time came to excise it.

She suspected that the time would come far sooner than expected.

Her patients were quite the mix. It was a different blend of the various races of their world that she treated, this time, with some new ones added to the mix that were…unexpected. The various people with horns were new to her (when asked, some responded with being either a Caprinae, Elafia, or Forte) as were the mixture of birdlike people (Liberi, they were called. The old man whom she'd asked was slightly confused at the question, but went with it anyway, to ensure he got cured…not that she was withholding it) that dotted the place, in the usual mix of elderly and children. If anything the only standouts were the three unique people she had met: one, a young man who stayed to himself as often as possible, and refused any and all questions about his race (she sent him to Satori's pile to be treated there instead), the second, an oddly youthful elderly gentleman who seemed to take entirely too much mirth in her confusion over his species ("Kirin, young lady. We're a bit rare, as you can see.!!"), and the last…

"Ha!! I knew it would be one of ours that finally cracked the code. I owe you a drink after this, don't let me forget about it!!"

The last was a pair, father and daughter, of literal Oni. For the refugees of the camp, this was nothing new, but the city's residents, and specifically the asian population, was oddly transfixed by their presence…and some of them very quietly terrified.

As it turns out, her change had caused her to inherit some of the traits of these oni, something she had not known until she came to them and almost immediately felt a kinship of sorts.

"Papa, You said that we were going to give her the good stuff, right? Not the piss that passes for alcohol around these parts!!"

Mostly because they were extremely brash and blunt, not really caring about harming people's feelings or pride or anything at all. It was downright refreshing to be able to interact with normal people again.

Still, she had to pass on the offer of a drink…for now. Besides, there was still an as-yet unused sake jug needing to be broken in back Home…

Huh. She thought of the Moonbase as her home, now. That was…no. That wasn't it. It wasn't the moonbase that was home. It was the man that resided within it.

She smiled to herself at yet another realization. My Satori is Home.

Naturally, she was filled with energy at the pleasant thoughts, and the remaining treatments completely flew by with her newfound good mood.

Which she didn't mind at all. More time to help set up and deploy her husband's newest project…

---

The standard Oripathy treatments went off without a hitch, with only two people needing to have the second variety to not die, one of them being a Sarkaz desperately trying to hide his identity at all costs. A nudge from the force had me use the third batch instead, which I'd hoped would help in some way with the inherent Sarkaz weakness to oripathy, above and beyond even normal Terrans…

Huh. There it is again. I seem to be getting a whole HELL of a lot of bleedover in various forms of information and knowledge in relation to this world. It wasn't completely unusual, except in the fact that it had waited until now to start fully integrating into my head, unlike the rest of it, which usually started right off.

Eh. I'd deal with it later. Right now, with the treatments finished, and my somehow not getting swarmed by the bunches of extremely grateful people (and the Oni girl who had outright shouted to everyone that if I wanted her to just bend her over and go, which got some raucous laughter from the more perverted crowd, and even her own Father, not that I was surprised in the slightest, even though his daughter couldn't have been more than 14), I could instead work on getting the first of my helpers online.

I'd taken the plans for the Orb repair robot that had been a part of the crash dump, and then started modifying from there. Everything, and I mean everything, was modified to be the absolute best that it could be within my skill set, and Mio had then run over it with the proverbial millimetric fine-tooth comb for any slack before we repeated the process again, just to make sure that nothing got left out.

The end result was something that previously would have scared me to death if I'd come across it in any capacity: it was, for all effects and purposes, a Forerunner Engineer on steroids, granted super soldier enhancements, and then boosted to all hell and back…before then giving it psionic and magical capabilities on top of that. It had access to nanoscale manipulators to work on any substance possible with the precision it would need, a built-in recycler/fabricator combo alongside a sub-pocket storage space for carrying around raw and refined materials, and more scanners and analyzers than the most invasive laboratories. The power core itself was a bit of a prototype wonder, using the properties of synthetic kyber crystals and their energy amplification abilities to overcharge everything else. That it also served as a useful method of storage for supernatural energies when formed and prepared in a certain way was a mere bonus feat, as I'd already figured out how to bypass that part using modified mana capacitors.

The 'housing' was intentionally set up to be a combination of as much protective gear as possible to shield the delicate innards and enough propulsive ability to get around in any environment and under any conditions, which created an interesting little design element that I took advantage of when doing the final design phase: making the things as cute as possible to avoid being destroyed by unaware people. That this involved making it a quasi-organic structure was beside the point, it just had to be harmless-looking and cute.

The final product ended up looking like a flying six-legged turtle with retractable tentacles, but the design worked wonders. Even better, the overall design was directly intended to be reproducible in the field by the cute turtle itself, meaning that all I had to do was direct them at a source of materials (or let them find them) and they would take care of the rest.

Of course, that was just the hardware. The software side was even more insane.

I'd had at least thirty of my multitasking elements working on the Shiekah script in order to not only understand what it did and why, but to break it down into something that I could then put back together even better with my 'mad coding skillz'. It was easier said than done, and I ended up putting another sixty or so instances on the problem before it cracked open and yielded fruit, but yield it did. The resulting combination of Shiekah script, magical mathematics, and general abuse of enchantment systems for the software side was downright silly, and then I tossed a T'au AI that I had specially prepared, and personally coded, into the mix.

It was everything that it needed to be and more.

Building the package was a non-issue using Thoth's onboard systems, and I built four more just to be safe. These should help in getting things back on track.

Some final programming was done: One of my new builder boys (which needed a name, but the obvious ones were either taken or really taken, and I didn't want what was left of Nintendo to come after me in futile fury) was going to be sent back to Miakoda and was specifically programmed to interface with the central database and download everything inside, then send the relevant data to the rest so that they had it as well. The others would be hanging around and doing various tasks while I dealt with more important things.

The sounds of an altercation caught my attention before I could deploy my new toys. As usual.

A brief investigation turned up…okay, seriously?

"Hey, you furry bastards!! Time to pay up!"

Yes, seriously. A fucking gang is trying to hustle the refugee camp.

Apparently, there was a small group of thugs at the entrance, demanding to be let in to collect 'rent'. I suspected that the only reason they were not dead yet is that the people here liked them or something, because there were at least ten semi-retired operators just hanging around the place, not to mention the Oni pair who could rip them apart with zero effort.

I decided to check closer just in case I was missing something.

But no, it really was just a random group of gangers showing up for protection money, nevermind that the refugees don't have any money that would work on Bet. There was a strange undercurrent of excitement coming from the kids, though, as well as from a few adults.

I took a moment to get a quick look in their heads before pushing forward, and what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

The 'gangers' were completely phoning it in. not a one of them had actual hostile intent, and in fact had managed to round up what amounted to the local charity basket of several neighborhoods to bring into the place, but were making it look like it was a mugging for the sake of their public reputation. The gangers would come in with the bags of loot, and mysteriously "forget" to take the same bags with them when they left, instead leaving with other things. Meanwhile the camp got desperately needed supply from a source that the Police and possibly even the PRT would not approve of, even thought they were actively helping.

It still didn't explain the kids' anticipation though…

"HOHO!! Evildoer stand away, or else you shall pay!!"

I blinked, and the kids' enthusiasm reached a fever pitch. Apparently this is what they were waiting for.

And sure enough, on top of the dilapidated building to our north, there was a distinct shape standing there, cape swishing in the wind.

Honestly, the Mouse ears gave it away, but I was playing along for now.

"Behold, the might of the Knight of Mice!!"

Because of course she had to be as cheesy as possible, probably with a side of ham somewhere in there as well. I could hear the groans from here, and even some of the 'gangers' were groaning in frustration as well.

I got the distinct feeling that the gangers were in on this and doing it mostly to humor the kids, but I refused to voice the statement lest I break the moment.

Mouse Protector, because of course it was her, proceeded to show off in the most over the top and silly way possible in "defeating" her opponents, complete with the mouse puns (don't squeak too loud boys! This party is only just starting to scurry!) and cheesy lines with extra ham (in the name of the Cheddar, I shall Punish you!!). Worse, she was intentionally being bad about it, which only added to the groanfest that was going on.

The gangers were taking their "defeat" in stride, making sure to set up in such a way to make Mouse as entertaining as possible for the kids while still accomplishing their goals. And man were those guys good…they got in and out almost like a trained genin team, just with less stealth.

And all the while the kids were going nuts as MP showed off as hard as possible.

Of course, nothing in life is ever perfectly good. Another group decided that now would be a perfectly good time for therm to interfere and remove the first group for whatever reasoning they had, and with lethal force. I didn't bother even looking at the faces as I removed them from play, and the show kept going on regardless.

Or at least, it should have. Somewhere between my mopping up the second group and moving back MP had disappeared and not returned. Mio, who had been watching the show as it went on, was just as confused as I was, and we were both scanning the possible angles for her to have used to escape with little success.

I couldn't help but admire the skill. "So, this woman literally vanished from an actual ninja. that takes some doing…still, Where did she go?"

"Where are you looking?"

I immediately snapped back to a building that I knew I'd just checked, to see that Mouse was standing atop it…and holding my hat? How the hell?

I specifically hadn't worn my hat because it was hot as all hell outside, being a downright frigid 94 degrees in the sunlight, which for Texas in June is practically subzero. So I, an actual card-carrying Touhou, was moving around without a hat and Mouse Protector somehow manages to get a hold of it. Great.

"I'm up here, Satori. Right up here." She spoke it with a strange calm and cadence, one that reminded me of something…but there is no way–

Her stance shifted, her demeanor more stern. She even threw my hat back at me. "Now, ANSWER ME SATORI!!"

She wasn't.

"THE SCHOOL OF THE UNDEFEATED OF THE EAST!!!'

Oh. My. god. She was actually doing it!!!

I had no choice.

My response was clear as day, my precious hat being placed back where it belonged, as was appropriate for such a moment.

"The Winds of the King!!"

We were actually doing this.

The two of us moved.

The sounds of fist meeting fist filled the air as we danced.

"ZANSHIN!!"

"KEIRETSU!!'

"TENPA KYORAN!!"

We met on the ground, fists meeting, complete with epic lightning in the background as we posed dramatically.

"LOOK!! THE EAST IS BURNING RED!!"

I didn't care that the kids were going absolutely nuts. I didn't care that the "gangers" had used the opportunity to escape, conveniently leaving behind the last of the supplies as they "beat feet to save their skins" I didn't care that Mio was recording this to use as blackmail later.

The fact that someone else, on Earth Bet of all places, understood the glory that was G Gundam, to the point of recreating the greatest bro fist of all time, was a reward all on its own.

I could ask Mouse about how the hell she knew so much about me later on, after all.

---

---

So, this chapter fought me for a number of reasons, mostly because events IRL sapped me of the will to write, and then I came back with other shit on my mind. This is the result, and if it got silly at the end, blame Mouse Protector.

She does that to everyone.

Also, meet Voyager. he's super cute, very kind, and absolutely more powerful than anything short of a major daemon and then some. Pale Blue Dot is rated as anti-star when Voyager is still new and not quite into his power. This one...is not so new.

I also apologize for the delay, but certain events and the handling thereof have been pissing me off greatly, which fed into my lack of will to write.

More Arknights Lore and Races:

Caprinae have the traits of goats (Capra sp.) and sheep (Ovis sp.), which can be seen from the shape of their horns.

Elafias have the traits of deer (Cervidae), which can be seen from the shape of their antlers, though not all Elafias have them.

Fortes have the traits of artiodactyls or even-toed ungulates, which includes bovines and camelids. For the former, their bovine traits can be seen from the shape of their horns. For the latter, their camelid traits can be seen from the shape of their ears and they have the ability to survive in hot arid deserts.

Kirin have the traits of the qilin, a chimeric legendary creature from the Chinese mythology, which can be seen from their draconic horns and equine tails. The qilin is usually depicted as a creature having the head of a dragon and body of a horse.

Liberi have the traits of birds, which can be seen from parts of their hairs that resemble feathers. They also possess structures resembling tail feathers on their torsos, which are often used to cover their bodies.

Oni closely resembles our world's humans, but with a taller, bulkier, and muscular stature for both men and women and one or two horns on their foreheads. They are even well-known for their rough nature due to their body strength. (Mio is part Oni, which is a reason for her unusual strength, aside from being a fucking Dragon.)

 

[Slider Zero]

Advance Note: I am using a new page break style for ease of posting, so the formatting is slightly different. Otherwise, please enjoy.

-={/\]=-​

Rebecca Costa-Brown was a hard woman. She'd had to be, in order to do what needed to be done for the sake of humanity, to stop the entity known as Scion from destroying everything. It was a road that had robbed her of anything approaching proper empathy, for such weakness could not be tolerated while the threat still existed.

She, along with her comrades-in-arms at Cauldron, had for decades now been fighting the good fight, doing everything possible to prepare for the inevitable final confrontation while still maintaining some semblance of normality in the world, aided by Contessa and the Path to Victory, which could ensure any task but the one most important above all.

At least, that was the case, until things abruptly changed for the worse when suddenly the very planet itself was warped beyond recognition, with an entirely new landmass added into the Atlantic Ocean. If that had been the only change to happen, she would have called it unusual and moved on…but then the signals from the moon started up. Followed by activity that Cauldron could not trace, nor get a proper read on, mostly due to the limitations on parahuman powers reaching out to the Earth's satellite.

From there, came another horror, the specter of an opponent that was on par with Endbringers themselves, and a fight so brutal that it was visible from the ground in broad daylight. But even with all of this, there was still hope that Cauldron could take advantage of the situation, and turn things to the proper path.

Until that goddamned fool showed up and ruined everything.

Satori Green, Formerly a technical Sergeant of the United States Air Force in another, stranger dimension not part of the set that Cauldron could access, had appeared wielding powers and technology beyond anything that the world had ever seen, and announced himself as the proud owner and renovator of the newly-renamed Miakoda base on the moon. Under normal circumstances, this would be a useful distraction, a means to show once again that normal people were not the solution, and that the world had to trust in the power of parahumans to steer the course, which in turn would give them more soldiers for the final battle.

And then the bastard's wife went and killed the Simurgh in about as non-climactic a way as possible, while one of his allies at his precious moonbase was still live and on air with NASA. Her attempts at damage control had then failed spectacularly, leaving him with even more clout and a blanket ultimatum that he could and would pack up and move elsewhere if the US Government didn't put the PRT back in its place.

The initial "reprimand" from the President still stung her pride, even now.

Further attempts to place Green under their nominal control had failed spectacularly, as he then proved to have the ability to not only analyze but repair tinkertech, including one of the specialized scanning devices that were kept on hand to implicate potential outside context problems as parahumans and thus place them under the proper jurisdiction of the PRT.

The Military was having a field day watching her get utterly destroyed by the President, again, over poking at the golden goose. And there was nothing she could actually do to put a stop to the bastard, because he was earning goodwill wherever he went now, and had been openly giving out his wonder technology to everyone he came across–-and not to the PRT.

In fact, this very meeting that she was attending was day three of her current barbecue session, courtesy of the President of the United States having taken a greater interest in certain issues with the Greens' arrival…including the issue of the dimensional refugees.

Cauldron had been able to use the people's physiology to have them mistaken as Parahuman Case 53's, and had used that to apply pressure where they could to make inroads on their own projects. Some had even been taken to a series of labs on a different Earth in order to learn more about their new friends.

Current data was still inconclusive, but the project was still new. She was certain that Cauldron's scientists could figure out the mystery in due time.

The problem was that both of the Greens matched the general profiles of these refugees, and because all medical tests performed on them so far showed that they were both still human, even if heavily augmented with large amounts of both mechanical and biological technology. Combined with the fact that they seemed to be aware of whatever it was that the refugees were hiding regarding the odd growths on their bodies, and were moving to do something about the issue, said everything.

The worst part? Both of them were completely unpathable, and Contessa didn't have enough to work with to try and use a general profile to predict their actions.

Cauldron was losing control, and the results could be disastrous for everyone if they didn't find a way to get back on top before it was too late.

"Director Costa-Brown."

The President's voice pulled her out of her ruminations, not that she had lost her place in the conversation at any point. "Yes, Mr. President."

President Gillen was not a happy man at the moment. "I am hearing more about the PRT interfering with the dimensional refugees that are being pulled in. Things about the conditions of the camps, restrictions on housing, and lack of available aid despite both my own Executive Orders and a Congressional bill authorizing just that. What exactly are your people up to this time?"

Rebecca once again thanked her power for allowing her to suppress the grimace that wanted to form on her face. Gillen had become extremely confident as of late, and willing to push back against Cauldron influence. "We are working with local aid groups in prioritizing treatment for the new Case-53 parahumans–"

"I'll stop you right there, Director." Gillen thundered. "Those people are not Case-53s, and most certainly not parahumans of any sort!! Your people have overstepped the line once again, just like the last time, and I am finding myself wondering just why that is."

Plans whirled through her head, anything that would let her retake the initiative and defend the actions of her subordinates. She quickly settled on a course of action. "Mr. President, we were operating under the assumption–"

"No. No more of the games and "but we assumed" bullshit. Your people have been overstepping their bounds for a long time, and while I admit I have allowed it in the past, it will not happen here. The last time I let you play your little games, we almost lost the greatest asset this country has ever seen to fucking Mexico. As it is, I am still getting phone calls from them asking about when the setup is going to start. And all because you had to try and play power grab.

"I am, quite frankly, sick and tired of dealing with your bullshit and the fallout, especially when it could cost us all too valuable human resources and otherwise loyal soldiers because you will not just leave well enough alone. So now, I am putting my goddamned foot down like I should have two years ago.

"So, here's how this is going to go: These refugees are not your concern until and unless we have a confirmed trigger event, and then and only then will you have or be allowed any authority in the matter. This is not up for discussion. Do I make myself clear?"

Rebecca could say nothing to that, except one thing. "Yes, Mr. President."

Gillen nodded, satisfied. "Good. I have reports coming in that Mr. Green has found a treatment for whatever it is that has them sick, and right now the CDC is asking for some assistance in moving people around so that the critical cases can be seen to as quickly as possible. I want to have these people, who or whatever they are, on our good list for when things get worse…and they will get worse, what with the frequency of attacks stepping up."

Rebecca had to think about it before she could place the reference…and had to once again thank her powers. Because the President was referring to a particular wrinkle that made itself known a few months back, in the form of unidentified flying objects that even most parahumans could not deal with. All Cauldron could find on the subject without tipping their hand was that there was someone on the problem already. Contessa was intentionally being vague about her guidance in that area as well, and had told the rest of Cauldron to not worry about it. If the situation was getting worse, however…

"Mr. President. I ask again: may I know what steps are being taken to combat these attacks? It would assist in keeping my people prepared."

"You do not have a need to know such information at this time, Director. Leave it at that."

Rebecca seethed internally as the President continued on with the meeting. She literally could not get a break…

-={/\]=-​

In deep space, a fleet moved.

Their target was certain, their purpose nothing more and nothing less than holy writ: the search must continue.

All obstacles to this goal were to be eliminated or subsumed into their cause for the greater good, or used to facilitate the same. Nothing could interrupt them in their task, for it was one of the utmost importance. Triply so, now that they knew that the planet they were targeting held what they had sought all this time.

However…there was a complication.

Somehow, an unexpected variable had introduced itself into their plans, and was even now operating on the target world, potentially hardening it against their coming incursions. This could not be allowed.

And so, contingencies were called into play. Timetables were accelerated, and appropriate resources burned to accomplish such a task.

The goal of eons untold would be achieved.

At all costs.

-={/\]=-​

Risa, newly formed mental model of the Rising Phoenix, suddenly found herself in a quandary as she monitored the local space.

Technically, she had not been ordered to do so, just as she technically had not been ordered to activate The Tester, let alone the AGE builder and the attendant facilities. Even now, the Builder was using it's compiled data to upgrade itself to better accommodate future builds of the nature it wanted to use in its tests, especially as the initial and secondary batches of testing had proven to be more than satisfactory for all purposes.

This was going to become extremely important soon, because if her long-range passive tracking was correct, then the armada that had been slowly creeping towards Earth had decided that time was of the essence, and pushed to full ahead to arrive faster, even if it meant leaving behind their support craft…

Or not, she grumbled, as the recently upgraded base sensors detected an extremely powerful psionic effect being employed to drag the slower ships along behind the faster ones to increase speed. Worse, their speed was rapidly climbing, and at almost ridiculous rates.

A quick calculation delivered the grim news: at the current rate of advance, combined with their acceleration, and assuming a need for a decel burn, the enemy would be here within two Earth weeks…which was a downright terrifying proposition to face off against. She was just one ship, dammit!!

Yes, a ridiculously powerful Valkyrie Battleship augmented with Fog technology and that of her Captain, but still a single ship!!

If she launched now, and used an in-system jump via mass effect, she could catch the leading edge of the fleet just at the outer edge of the Kuiper belt and run a harassment campaign from there. It wasn't going to punch through the entire fleet, not with that many numbers and most certainly not with the level of shielding being kicked out by whatever was onboard, but it would thin the horde.

Somewhat.

But nowhere near enough.

She silently cursed her late activation. Had she come online before her captain had left for the planet, they might have been able to work something up. As it was, the one extra Union Core she had available (A relic of her creation, and modified in the same manner as her own core) was worthless, as without a ship to apply it to there was no point to its use, especially as the basic AI within was meant for a supply tender and not a line vessel, and thus would require directives for use.

…unless she cheated the system. Created an edge, something that could be used as a fallback position in case the worst came to pass.

The AGE Builder beeped, it's control system sending out a status report regarding the problem it had been observing though her and the potential solutions…along with a copy of a heavily redacted file. The first was a starship, fully capable of operating both in and out of a gravity well, and that was intentionally set up to be modified for use as a mobile base of operations, alongside being able to do all of the important things that a Fog supply vessel was needed for. That it included its own Builder system and terminal was seen as a good thing, as they would likely be needed in the coming days if worst came to worst.

The second was the machine that was intended to be placed inside. A titan of steel and exotic alloys, modified with the best of the tried and tested technology available that was still capable of being installed on the frame itself, even with its size. It was intended to stand as the sentinel that would protect the world from all who would dare harm her, and emerge victorious every time, regardless of the odds.

There was a final gift, as well: the AGE builder had just finished fabricating a set of upgrades meant for her specifically, that would boost her performance in all areas.

But would it be enough?

She nodded to herself, a grim smile on her face. At least I don't need to drag the Kerbals into this. They are far safer here for the moment.

She set up one final order: the AGE system was to create the vessel shown in the plans she'd seen, and deploy it to Earth with instructions to camouflage itself, collect resources, build up support structures as needed, and await further orders from either her captain or another authorized command agent…and in the event that the worst came to pass, to enact the plans that were built into the system as per the contingency protocol.

She very pointedly did not need to know what they were. Not yet.

And so, Risa prepped her ship body, utilizing the inherent connection she had to the Rising Phoenix to quickly prep everything for her departure and engagement with the enemy. She fully expected to be engaged with the enemy within the next six hours, at most. Sadly, she would leave too late to notice the advance raid coming in hot on the planet itself, and would be out of position to intercept them when she did notice.

Likewise, the plans that she had left unread were inserted into the system build queue at highest priority, with expected deployment within the hour. Further buildup could be handled on-site once the ship made planetfall.

Thus, the title of the plans went unremarked upon by anyone for lack of a person to remark upon them.

It would prove to be significant in the coming days.

[CONTINGENCY PLAN "HEAVEN'S FALL" SUCCESSFULLY LOADED AND PREPARED. SRG-01C MATERIALS AND PLANS LOADED INTO DATABASE.]

[UNIT DESIGNATION "AVENGER" READY TO LAUNCH IN T-MINUS 90:00.00]

-={/\]=-​

"So, you gotta tell me about that base of yours, Satori. I need details!!"

Mouse Protector was astoundingly clingy once she got her hooks into you, and was currently needling me relentlessly regarding information on Miakoda station and what future plans were in store. Not that it bothered me much, as unlike most, I could actually keep up with her enthusiasm for her preferred topics.

Didn't stop her from trying to bowl me over and effectively weld herself to my side, but you can't win at everything, and I had a dragon wife for dealing with the part where MP got too grabby.

"If you will give him a moment to actually respond, he would likely do so. Or, better yet, just ask me instead." Mio growled out, irritation clear in her tone and stance. As expected, she wasn't taking Mouse's antics well, partly because it was pushing certain buttons of hers that she generally did not have to worry about, but mostly due to her being overdue for a dicking and knowing full well that Mouse Protector had my interest.

Yes, Jealous Mio was cute too. Fortunately, I had no intention of any form of Infidelity, and despite her enthusiasm and general handsiness, neither did the Mouse. She was just very touchy with those she liked, was all.

Mouse quickly wriggled herself into a comfortable position at my side, somehow dragging Mio to cling to my opposite, not that she was complaining. "But I wanna know now~!"

"Well, wait a moment, so I can get somewhere we can talk about things, then, you silly woman." I snarked. Of course, this only added fuel to the fire, and Mouse Protector wasted no time in pulling us along in her wake to an empty tent.

I pointedly did not ask how she knew it was empty.

Catching a seat on a nearby cot and bouncing lightly as she landed, Mouse quickly settled in, all but vibrating with enthusiasm. "Alright, we're in a private space now, tell me!!"

I took a seat opposite on a nearby stool, while Mio plopped down on an adjacent cot. "Alright, alright. I'll spill…but first, a few questions."

What little of Mouse's expressions were visible became somewhat guarded, though the feeling of acceptance I was getting from her had not faded. "Ugh. fiiine. Be a spoilsport. Whatcha want to know?"

My smile was downright predatory. "First, how did you know who I was, and more specifically, where and how to find me?"

Mouse shrugged. "Oh, that was easy. The Protectorate has a nice tracking app for things they consider a threat, and you are at the top of the list. It was easy to ask for a favor to get a quick look, and then I was on my way."

I felt Mio's ire, but mentally stroked her a bit to soothe the beast. Mouse wasn't responsible for the Protectorate being dumbasses, that was Becky–no, Alexandria, trying to play hardball with the person she couldn't directly control.

Unfortunately, Mouse continued in her explanation. "Also, there is a little-used personnel sharing thing between the PRT and the Department of Defense that allows for the PRT to go digging into records when they feel like it. I'm pretty sure the PRT used it to build a threat profile on you the instant the paperwork could clear, which was likely as soon as it got entered into the system."

Alright, now I was mad, but there was little I could do about it at the moment. Need to stay focused on the objective…

Instead, I nodded slowly, using the motion to mask my own concerns. I somehow got the feeling that MP wasn't buying it, but pushed forward anyway. "Okay then, second question: what made you think that I was going to be willing to even accommodate your silliness, anyway? I'm sure you are aware of how I treated parahumans before."

Again, Mouse waved it off, this time with an actual wave. "Naah. You ran Dispatch through the ringer for a perfectly good reason, and your whole thing with Grey Knight was a known issue for a while in the Protectorate, even though they try not to talk about it in public. You weren't going to do anything too harsh to little ol' me…at least, not without your cutie having a say about it." She punctuated this with a wink at Mio, who dismissed it as the distracting antic that it was.

"Now, for your obvious third question!" Mouse exclaimed, cutting me off before I could even get to it. "You want to know why a parahuman is interested in the Space. But that's not all!!" Now she had jumped to her feet, wildly gesticulating with her hands. "You also want to know if I'm willing to undergo a super special experiment that might let me actually get to the moon without screwing things up or killing me in the process!! And I say right now that of course I'm In!! Just tell me what needs to get done first, okay?"

…what?

How the hell had she known that? And why did she seem to be able to anticipate me so damned hard? It's almost like…

The world lost focus for a moment, and the only things there were me, Mio, and Mouse Protector–no, none of that, my name is Marcella–standing there in the space.

The moment broke almost as soon as it happened, but it was all that I needed to know.

Somehow, Miss Marcella Wallace, the ever-excitable Mouse Protector, was a Newtype. And a damned powerful one, at that, especially if she was pulling off stuff like this right off the bat. Most newtypes had to build up to this level of silliness…which implied that she had the potential to become much, much stronger as her powers grew.

Marcy (yes, you have a nickname now, deal with it) was smirking at me the whole time, utterly assured in her victory. Mio only grumbled harder, muttering something about "another one" under her breath.

I could only sigh in frustration, as aside from interacting with Mio I have had little reason to even casually flex any of my psionic prowess, let alone my recently properly awakened newtype abilities. And Marcy seemed to be fully aware of it and reveling in the superiority in an oddly wholesome manner.

"Fine, Since you want it so bad, you will be the guinea pig parahuman for figuring out what the hell is going on, and to see about removing that annoying tether your lot has." I grumbled out. "I was meaning to test this out on a certain asshole, but…"

"Nuh-uh. I am a big enough nerd to know exactly what I managed to luck my way into, and there is no way in hell I am passing this opportunity up. I am a literal, honest to god Newtype, interacting with other newtypes, and I fully intend to enjoy it as much as possible, and as properly intended for newtypes: in. Space. Now excuse me while I celebrate."

Marcy's cheering (and funky dance) washed away all of my attempts at gloom, and did a number on Mio's as well. There was just no being moody around her, it seemed…

-={/\]=-​

Explaining things to Marcy while we walked was a no-brainer, especially as we were sticking to "public-safe" topics, now that she had openly busted through the obvious barriers. She was focusing on things that she could get her hands on up on Miakoda, and some bits about life in space as well.

That, and playing with the extras that this version of newtype awakening came with, because apparently the psionic powers were strong with this one. Not just Newtype, oh no: she was somehow an equally powerful psychodriver as well (but did they mix in this case? Or was it just a different side of the same coin? Something to test later on) which meant that she now had, in addition to insane spatial awareness and perception, fucking telekinesis.

As expected, Mouse ("yeah, that works for a handle too, it was a nickname when I was a kid") took to it like a house on fire, and even now was practicing as subtly as possible with her relatively newfound powers whenever she could…much to the annoyance of her actual power, which seemed to be trying to drive her to poke Mio and I with her sword, repeatedly.

"That part is going to need some explaining, Satori my guy." she quipped. "See, not only is this the first time I have noticed something like this, and coming from my own power, no less, but I also happen to like you two, and would rather not be compelled by my parahuman power to turn you into a pincushion. Though I get the distinct feeling that making that stick is going to be an exercise in futility…

Indeed, Because I had cracked White Magic, of the Final Fantasy variety (and wasn't that a shock to the system) while doing the research necessary for Thoth's upgrades…and White Mages in general (White Wizards in particular, though those were extremely rare) were effectively impossible to kill past a certain level of power without them having allowed it to happen in the first place.

Mio offered up her explanation on the matter. "I think that whatever is driving parahuman powers is actively observing though the senses of a parahuman, thus creating a vector for potential command input relative to whatever objectives that this mysterious power source may have." She turned towards me again. "Are you sure that we should be trusting her with even this much? There is a strong likelihood that these things can use people as observation nodes or something. We have nothing to work with on them except that, based on our sample size of one, parahumans are the only known group with not one, but two stable cancers in their brain."

I could feel the sarcasm.

"Well, we have to do something no matter what, so I think it's easier that we just put our heads together for a bit and figure out what the deal is with her brain meats, so we can get back to the Barbecue discussion. Especially because this heathen thinks that proper Texas 'cue is inferior to KC-style, which is a known falsehood that needs to be corrected as soon as possible."

"Bah, you cowboys and your beef. Besides, you stole all of the best stuff from us anyway, including the good sauce. Stick to your own mess, thank you!"

Yes, Marcy and I were arguing over barbecue. Which is and remains Serious Business. At ALL Times.

I was also running several simulations based on some deep scans that Thoth had taken of her cranium and contents, and was currently debating a proper response to what had been discovered. But the Barbecue was far more important.

'Satori.' Mio poked at me through our bond. 'What exactly is this Barbecue you speak of?'

I froze.

Oh dear god. I had completely forgotten that Mio was used to the 41st Millennium and all of it's BS when Marcy sucked me into that argument. Mio had no concept of the food of the gods. Like, at all.

This had to be rectified. Immediately.

Marcy, proving yet again that she is entirely too strong of a newtype for her own good, immediately picked up on my distress, and more importantly why. "I'll find us a place–"

I Immediately cut her off. "Not a chance. You'll go to a weak-ass spot that doesn't do the justice needed to proper Texas Barbecue. I will be choosing our destination."

Besides, it would prevent Mio from having her first intro to Texas Barbecue be fucking Pappas, of all places. My woman deserved better than that, thank you very much.

Fortunately, we were already downtown-ish, so getting to the best spot in Houston for some good meats (and that was almost guaranteed to still be there) was a non-issue.

The trip took a bit, as we had to actually leave downtown and head a bit north, but eventually we arrived at the most humble of restaurants in Hungry Farmer's BBQ, still open even now and on this world of ruin…and still just as good as ever.

Mio, of course, reacted appropriately at the 'tasting'

"THIS IS AMAZING *munch* how is the food all this *munch* good?"

I just chuckled, along with the owners, who were very much enjoying the blatant advertisement that Mio offered for their quality. MP, the poor dear, remained sullen and annoyed at having been soundly defeated by Facts and Logic, even as she worked her way through a plate of her own.

Thank GOD I had actually been paid by the Intelligence guys, or else this would have gotten very interesting really fast. Fortunately, I only had to cough up just over $100 thanks to Mio being a greedyguts and eating three whole four-meat plates by herself. This, combined with my own more modest plate and extras and covering for MP, well…yeah.

Best BBQ spot in Houston for decades running is also still one of the cheapest as well. Go figure, right?

Of course, all good things come to an end, as it was here that reality caught up with us, in the form of an intelligence agent of some stripe or another managing to track me down.

"Mr. Green? Your presence is requested for discussion of certain issues. We'll need to escort you to the location ASAP, sir." his face, while understanding, left no room for compromise.

Unfortunately, I was not interested in just being dragged around myself. I am certain my frown communicated this as well. "What can you tell me about the reasoning, Agent?"

The agent took a pointed look around the restaurant, a clear sign to me that whatever needed to be discussed was classified to hell and back. "I am not at liberty to say here, sir. I can explain a bit more when we are under way, but not until them."

Mio gave me a sidelong look, before nodding her assent. "As annoying as she is, She's still sticking around. I'll watch out for her and deal with the other issues. Go."

A soft smile was my reply, before I packed up the few leftovers of my meal and headed off.

This shit bad better be damn good to have interrupted my Mio time.

-={/\]=-​

Our destination was something of a shock to me (I had been expecting something different), as we pulled up to a totally nondescript office-type building about ten minutes later. My own mental map placed us at the heavy industrial sections of the city's north side, in Pasadena.

The same Pasadena which was historically very much unwelcome to people like me.

Worse, the explanation I had gotten from the Agent was practically nonexistent, as he himself was not privy to the details of the meeting either, only that it had to be offsite for reasons that were not explained. Understandably, I was paranoid as hell and kept my senses sharp and my defenses ready at a moment's notice.

The building's interior was equally nondescript, being about as standard as you can get for the design without outright being conspicuous about things. Based on what I could pick up from observation, who or whatever this building was here for was also brand new to the area, as the place had that distinct "just assembled" smell, along with something else I couldn't name.

I was escorted into an otherwise innocuous meeting room with no windows, and a standard government conference table with standard government conference chairs accompanying it. I suspected that this was meant to be a secure meet for whatever was about to go down…and based on the people that I could suddenly feel approaching, I was probably correct.

My guests, however, were unusual in that they were not government conspiracy types, but rather uniformed Air Force personnel, Both officers, too, from the looks of it. Still, something was odd. If this was supposed to be a secure meeting "in-house" then why the hell did they drag me out here for it?

Standing and saluting as was appropriate, I greeted my superiors. "Major, Captain. How may I help you?"

The Major took the lead, returning my salute. "At ease, Mr. Green. I am Major Ackerman, and with me is Captain Keyes. Apologies for the cloak and dagger stuff, but the nature of what is about to be revealed to you is...extremely sensitive. We needed to make sure that you were isolated from potential outside influences before we proceeded."

I blinked, before getting a flash of insight. They were probably trying to peel Mouse Protector off of me in order to facilitate this briefing, and chose this location as somewhere that she couldn't get to. Too bad they had no clue that Marcy was even now keeping an eye on my location "just in case", a measure which, while appreciated, was wholly unnecessary simply due to the threat of the wrath of fucking God being unleashed by Mio if they were ever that stupid.

Then again, I found myself remembering certain people who always thought that they would be the one to beat the odds and skate through the shitstorm without getting splashed. There was always that one motherfucker, and I should probably watch for it just in case.

Major Ackerman continued as everyone found their seats, and I returned to mine. "As for the reason behind this meeting, we are here to read you in on a specific project that will be requiring your expertise. Normally you would not be tapped for such a position, for various reasons, but certain people pushed to have you onboarded as quickly as possible."

"In any case, the following is Classified, Top Secret--"

The usual spiel regarding classified information at that level of rarefied followed. Apparently there was a freaking major project floating around with at least some public facing for appropriations purposes, which Thoth quickly pointed out was getting some massive funding. Still, I forced myself to do a wait and see regarding exactly what was going down, especially when I saw the name of the project.

I had to assume it was mere chance. That name could have been used for any number of things, after all.

The formalities for Classified cleared, and my assent and understanding having been obtained, the real meat of the in-brief began. "Mr. Green, This folder," A single manila folder was produced, complete with all the trimmings of a proper sensitive paperwork container, "contains the overview of what is publicly known as Project Blue Book. Inside, you will find the details of the cover story for the project to be used in public. It is imperative that cover for this project not be breached under any circumstances whatsoever, due to the nature of the program. Do you have any questions at this time?"

I took the ten seconds needed to skim over the documents inside…and very carefully kept my cool. This was only a coincidence, after all. "Deep-Space Radar and Telemetry, sir? Seems a bit far-fetched, even for me, especially as the Skywatcher program has so many people involved from different countries."

Captain Keyes openly laughed for a moment. "Yeah, we get that a lot from people, but this is what we got fed by the spooks for our cover story. We work with it."

I couldn't help but smile myself at the sound of his voice. "I', assuming that you also get some confusion as to being in the Air Force instead of, say, the UNSC, Sir?"

Keyes only laughed harder at that, not that Ackerman was doing anything to stop our banter.

Still, they weer here for a reason. "Jokes aside, Mr. Green, this program is actually vital to the continued existence of not only Earth but humanity as a whole. We do what we can to make sure that it stays secured from outside influence whenever possible, especially with parahumans around." Ackerman's commentary about parahuman thinkers had a bit of a sour note to it. I suspected that he had personal experience with one of the stronger ones, but declined to actually ask on it.

"In any case, we intend to bring you into the program on an advisory basis. As much as we would like for you to be involved in a more permanent manner, there are other considerations in play that prevent this."

I nodded. "Then you are aware of the general plan involving the moonbase. Things are still being finalized on that front, I'm afraid, and depending on circumstances I may have to delay somewhat."

Because the final personnel selection was going to have to go through the list of people that could be trusted above all else to not panic in the face of weirdness, and potentially to push even further into it if necessary. That was a very small list, even before excluding most parahumans from consideration.

A thought occurred to me. "Actually, sir, now that I think about it, wouldn't you be better served with having some of your observations gear up on the moon as well? At least to have another observation point?"

Ackerman smiled. "That is…part of the request. However, we still need to get you read in and taken to the main facility for a proper briefing. Part of the delay in contacting you was setting up an appropriate means of transport to get you where you were needed."

I finished my overview of the cover program before continuing. "So, the cover story is reasonably solid, if a little flimsy in places. Still, not too bad. But, and excuse my presumption in asking, sir, why are you stalling so hard in actually getting me to wherever it is we need to go to set up the real briefing?"

Captain Keyes simply held out a hand. "Told you he would notice, sir."

Ackerman, for his part, promptly deposited a crisp $20 with much annoyance and grumbling, before turning back to me. "Part of the security measures. We will be on our way shortly."

A beep from somewhere on his person punctuated that statement. "And we are ready to move. Please follow me."

Ackerman led me further into the building, and down into a basement level that I was pretty sure was not a standard feature on buildings like this, especially in Houston. I especially didn't think that the large tinkertech-like apparatus that was stored inside was meant to be standard, either. The pair of uniformed techs (both of them Senior Airmen)

These people now had my interest.

"Sir, what am I looking at?"

Keyes answered. "This, Warrant Officer, is a transportation device. We will be using it to get to our destination without attracting too much attention."

I nodded absently as I walked forward, giving the machine a good look-over. It seemed safe enough, and oddly stable for a piece of tin–wait a minute…

I turned to the pair of officers with a questioning look. The silence that answered me, along with a smirk from Keyes, told me that I was about to be involved in something.

Finally, I shrugged. "Alright, I'll play ball. Apparently you think it's safe enough."

The three of us were quickly situated onto the obvious transit zone for the device, and it was activated, at which point a series of rings surrounded us, and with a flash we were on our way.

It was strange, being mid-transit. I got the distinct feeling that normally people would not be aware of the actual transfer as it was happening, but somehow I was perfectly aware of the effect as it zipped us off to our destination, even if the only thing I could remark on was the passage of time in between destinations.

Ten seconds of this later, we were deposited inside another facility. And I was having trouble getting the usual GPS locks in the standard manner, which should not have been possible except under very specific circumstances. A further check with more esoteric stuff by Thoth confirmed that we were at least partially underground in some fashion.

Ackerman stared moving without comment, with Keyes following behind. I quickly moved to follow them, trying to get my bearings as I went. The installation, wherever we were, was clearly set up to be survivable against some serious attacks, which was something that normal bases didn't have much of outside of the most secure areas. Off the top of my head, I only knew of a few places that were hardened like this, and they were all set up for specific purposes.

Thoth finally managed to get a GPS location for me to use, not that it was strictly necessary by then, as I was noticing more about the place from my own observation, including certain semi-famous public areas of note.

It was this that prompted me to ask a question. "Major, if I may?"

Ackerman made no move to stop me, so I continued. "Why exactly all the backdoor stuff just to get me to Cheyenne, sir? I could have made the trip on my own just as easily."

Ackerman stopped walking, immediately turning around to face me with a stern look. "And how do you know where we are, Warrant Officer?" The implied 'and I'd better like the answer' went unspoken.

And ignored, as I was getting tired of the games. "Sir, if you were made aware of my circumstances and briefed appropriately, then you should know why. With respect, if you are unaware of this, then I am not at liberty to inform you at this time."

Keyes was trying very hard not to bust out laughing. Ackerman was visibly trying to calm himself from working up into a spike of anger for reasons I didn't pry about.

…And the surrounding personnel seemed to be waiting in anticipation of something or another, as they noticed my presence and noted that I, to put it bluntly, didn't belong.

Ackerman's demeanor suddenly shifted from suppressed anger to excitement for no reason I could name, and he started chuckling. "Heh. Seems that the rumors were right about you."

He immediately turned back around, now power walking towards a destination. "Very well, Warrant Officer, we'll get to the meat of things shortly. I just need to show you something, first."

We then quickly moved to a section of the facility that had a lot more activity than most, complete with a larger section of armed personnel…from all branches. Which twinged another flag in my head, as even with NORAD being in the base, the facility was primarily an Air Force Operation. Having Marines around was extremely unusual.

But no, It wasn't until we reached the control room that I was willing to believe what I had been seeing, and had suspected ever since I saw that folder.

I slowly entered the room of myth and legend, a place that in my own world was a thing of fiction and whimsy, and noted everything that I could. It was all there, all of it…

And, through the shielded glass viewports, I could clearly see it. The thing that justified it all.

Apparently my shock and awe was noticeable, as there were smiles and smirks all around from the passing personnel, each one radiating that same smugness of knowing that they were introducing someone to something amazing.

Ackerman took the time to finally drop the bombshell that he'd been holding for so long.

"This is the place. This is what we want your help with."

"Warrant Officer Green…Welcome to Stargate Command."

-={/\]=-​

Mio was only moderately annoyed that her pseudo-date with her husband had been interrupted by official business, but she could tolerate it. Part of it was enjoying the amazing Barbecue entirely too much, part of it was knowing that she now had a bit of leeway to enact certain plans that were outstanding, like deploying the engineering turtles (which her Satori had given the moniker "Umahki" for some reason, not that she minded the name.) while people weren't looking too hard.

It still amazed her that the government thought that Satori was the important one, the man behind all of the technology, and completely dismissed her as a factor. It was equally amusing to play into the stereotype, which was why she was letting him take the lead and just acting as a glorified bedwarmer in public.

Of course, Mouse Protector here was not fooled, not in the slightest. Which was both good and bad, as she was the primary reason why Satori didn't need to be around at the moment. Certain things were best not discussed around men, after all.

As she expected, Mouse Protector was well aware of her intentions. "So, what'cha need, sister?"

Mio smiled. It was not a kind smile. "Just need to make sure of some things before we move forward, is all."

Mouse Protector scoffed. "Don't be such a worrywart. I'm not going to bite…unless you like that kind of thing, that is, in which case we can talk rates later…"

Despite the attempt at deflection, Mio was not fooled. "Alright then. We'll start with the real reason you sought him out."

To her credit, Mouse didn't flinch at being caught out. "Figured you would notice. Well, It's still mostly the reasons I mentioned. I really am interested as hell in space, and I am willing to kick down as many doors as possible to make sure I get there if the opportunity arises. As for why I was willing to go so far, though…well, it was unintentional, but that hubby of yours kind of saved my life."

Mio remained silent.

"Alright, alright, I'll explain. I have a bit of a…rival, let's call her, in the name of Ravager. She's…well, she needs help, help that I can't give her no matter how much I want to. But, I didn't actually realize this until after he blew up the weird eldritch thing that was coming to eat our minds. There was a…call it a backlash, from that event, you know. A lot of people started waking up to things that they would have otherwise been blind to."

Mouse Protector sighed. "And…for my part, it was a retaliation that Ravager couldn't be saved, mostly because she didn't want to be. It was a bad realization for me to have, and I would never have had it if he didn't accidentally force everyone to just…wake up. I wouldn't trade it for the world, not for anything, but…I wanted to be able to help her. And, now that I think about it, my powers kind of reinforced that. But now? Now I know that I can't. That I never will be able to. So…yeah."

Mio snorted. "Right. You had a better setup with the first story, stick with that one. Also, there are no such things as eldritch shapeshifting horrors out to eat your mind, and they most definitely are not a type of psionic creature that would have consumed the entire planet. Please come up with better lies next time, eh?"

Marcella all but bristled in fury…before she actually processed what she had just heard.

Mio continued as if the other woman hadn't just had her worldview rearranged. "Besides, that alone is not really why I am interested. After all, You are after my Husband. And I already have one woman trying to worm her way in as it is. A second is likely to be…problematic."

Mouse Protector blinked…before smirking. "Oooh. Afraid that the competition will take away from your quality time?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Mio snapped back. "I have needs, after all, and the fact that my Satori is actually capable of sating them properly is part of why I put up with him."

Mouse Protector's smirk remained. "Sure, you keep telling yourself that. We all know the truth."

Mio ignored the comment. "...So, I might as well get you familiarized with some of the tests we're going to run to help you out. First off.."

Because, they both did indeed know the truth of the matter, as much as Mio refused to admit it out loud.

Marcella really was entirely too strong with her abilities…

-={/\]=-​

Washu, at the moment, hated life.

Yes, being one of the almighty goddesses above even the gods of the gods themselves was a thing for her, as was her own constantly seeking out the limits of the universe and how it operated, but she still currently hated life.

And the root cause was the goddamned Celestial Forge. Because of course it couldn't just break in a way that was easy to fix, oh no. It had to be complicated.

The easy parts were already dealt with. Those most damaged nodes had been clipped and safely removed so as to not affect stability. Those shards of knowledge and ability were, sadly, lost, and outside of some very extreme levels of temporal bullshittery were completely unrecoverable without going back to the origin worlds, which kind of defeated the purpose if you asked her. Besides, she was able to use the raw materials to help repair everything else.

The actually recoverable pieces were much harder. The abilities contained within were still stable, but their 'containers' were in the way of the actual fixes that needed to be performed on the inner workings, and thus needed to be placed into a form of quarantine. That this would also preserve the conceptual 'shells' of those nodes of power was an added bonus that she was not looking too hard at lest it broke something. Space was a freaking pretzel in this place as it was, no need to make things even worse.

This meant that she had to remove them from their places in the grand constellation of stars and temporarily set them aside to get to the inner guts of the system, which was both extremely time-consuming and brutally difficult. It was a shock to her that nothing had gone majorly catastrophe yet, even though she had prevented several dangerously close calls prior.

It was because she was focusing on the safety aspects of maintaining integrity that she missed the energy surge that puled though the system until it was nearly too late. The blocks that she had set up to ground out those surges had somehow failed in the worst ways possible (completely and yet also temporarily) which had a near catastrophe in the making working its way through everything.

Fortunately, she was a super genius and had planned for even those safeguards to fail, and was quickly in battle against the forces trying to destroy her masterwork!!

And of course, it was precisely because of her focus in preventing one disaster that she completely missed the other one that was in progress. Several of the nodes she had been working to disconnect had, unknown to her, still had varying levels of residual charge to them, almost as if they were awaiting their deployment and activation. The rogue wave of energy, despite never actually reaching them, somehow granted just enough power to one of them to finish the process that they had started an unknown amount of time ago, and complete its activation.

This was also the single worst way that it could have activated: completely unshielded and leaking everywhere.

Washu turned to the node in shock, knowing full well what was about to happen.

The node finished charging, and activated itself with a massive pulse that warped spacetime itself in ways unfathomable to a mortal mind. It took everything that she could spare to mitigate the effects, and even then it was still having a massive backlash effect on the rest of space-time. Somehow, the small section of it that they were in held up…but it now had some very, very unintended connections to places outside of that bubble, and even outside of the galaxy itself.

And the horror show was still not done. The pulse of power had knocked itself into another set of nodes, one of them a cluster set that had delayed its own activation due to potential overload and was now surging out of control. Abandoning the already lost cause of the first node for fixing the imminent disaster that was the cluster, Washu quickly managed to section off part of the cluster from influence, which was a somewhat good thing…but the other part still surged wildly. She did at least shield the effects from propagating any further than the solar system itself...for all of the good that would do, as for reasons unknown the damned thing decided to just apply itself as hard and as liberally as possible.

And it had managed to drag a friend along with it. And that friend was trying to drag another friend.

Isolating the mess took entirely too long, and she was pretty sure that she missed at least one instance of something going wrong…but she had still done it. The forge system was still safe and stable.

And then she actually checked the damned souls they were connected to and winced. That had to have hurt…

-={/\]=-​

Watts saw the incoming wave before it hit and shielded us from most of it. That is the best I can say about what happened.

It still hurt like all fuck for an infinite and short amount of time, distracting me for just long enough for other people to make their way into the control center of Stargate Command.

At their head was a man I considered one of the greatest Generals to have ever served, both in fiction and real life. I Immediately came to attention, and snapped off an absolutely fucking perfect salute, my petty attempt to convey as much respect as possible to the greatness of that man.

Major General George Hammond (of Texas), returned my salute with just as much respect and gravitas.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Green. I am General George Hammond, commanding this facility, and the Stargate program as a whole. Apologies for the runaround, but we make a point of trying to keep things here under wraps, for obvious reasons." his nod towards the inactive Stargate. "Nonetheless, allow me to welcome you to the program. We're hoping that your unique expertise can assist us here in our own endeavors."

It took a moment for me to shake the awe off. "Y-yes sir. I'll try not to be too much of a burden on your command, especially with how many ways I'n getting pulled at the moment."

The General smiled. "I'm well aware of the feeling, son." he stated, no unkindly. "Still, we all have our jobs to do. I'd like to introduce you to my staff. With me is Colonel O'Neill, my second in command and leader of our first-line exploration and reconnaissance team–""

"SG-1."

There was a slight pause in the room as I interrupted the General's speech. "Er…Pardon, me General, but…I'm actually quite aware of this program, though the method may be…a little unbelievable, sir."

Hammond merely gave me his usual hard stare, while Colonel O'Neill, who I was really expecting to have cracked a joke about now, finally spoke up. "Lemme guess, something about a parallel universe version of the SGC? Something like that?"

"Actually, sir, you were all part of a Sci-Fi television series. Still considered some of the best TV ever made, in fact."

To my shock, neither of the men even so much as flinched at this reveal. In fact, Hammond almost seemed...amused? "Please elaborate, if you would."

Recognizing the (gentle) order for what it was, I continued on. "Well, the series covered the adventures of SG-1 throughout a period of ten years of operation of the SGC, sir. It's a lot of ground. The show itself was named for SG-1, sir, and even managed to get two separate spinoffs based on happenings later on."

"Is that so." O'Neill (I refused to call him Jack, even in my own mind, without permission) commented, his usual sarcasm on display. "Well, were we at least looking good?"

I nodded. "You are all the spitting images of those I'd only known through a TV screen, sir. If anything, you were one of my inspirations to enlist in the first place."

Hammond openly laughed at that. "That matches up with what we were told to expect, then. Looks like things are working out so far."

Wait, what?

"Yeah, you aren't the only one playing around with weird timey-wimey stuff, Green. It has to do with why we wanted you here. Come on, I'll show you."

A brief glance at the General for permission, and we were on our way to the research labs of the SGC, with O'Neill happily (and sardonically) pointing out places of interest. It was oddly…fun? (From an officer? A Colonel, no less? Blasphemy!!)

Still, three minutes later, we were there, and I could immediately see what it was they wanted my consultation for.

The Artifact (because that's what it was, no doubt) stood out among everything else in the room just by its presence, a strange, holographic object with a single point seeming to be more solid than the others. The surrounding space had obviously been cleared out to avoid it doing anything stupid, but it seemed to just sit there, waiting. There were a few techs milling around, mostly keeping an eye on the obvious anomaly, but otherwise the place was empty.

"This thing here came with a note, pretty much letting us know the guy to track down. Since this isn't the first time we've had to deal with…issues of this nature, we decided to just call you in." O'Neill stated, handing me the note in question. He seemed amused by the whole process, honestly.

As for the note?

Track down WO Satori Green after he makes planetfall and clears quarantine. You'll need his help later. Look for the tails.

–Jack O'Neill

Oh great. Another piece of time travel BS that SG-1 usually gets into.

I couldn't help but comment on it. "I'm assuming that you got a lot more than this note as information, then, since you were expecting me to show up."

"Yeah, pretty much. So, whatcha make of this thingamajig here, huh?"

Right. The potentially dangerous artifact sitting in the middle of the SGC labs was not kosher. Just need to get a bit closer to check it out–

It happened so fast that even I couldn't react. One minute, it was fine just sitting there. The next? It had all but zoomed directly to my person and somehow melded with my person.

No…wait. It was melding with my frame?

[Error: unknown artifact is attempting to interface with systems. This one has a header attached. I am reading back now:

Child of the Forge, accept this boon immediately. You have little time.

Message ends.]

…Fuck. I was almost certain of what that was now, but I had no way of confirming without forcing an issue that I had been holding off on…and no choice but to go for it.

The multitasking instances that had been working on the upgrades for Thoth quickly compiled everything into a singular package executable for Thoth to run a self-update with, and then sent it off, pending execution on a few last tasks.

I turned to the Colonel, who was still slightly shocked at what had happened.

"Jesus Christ…You okay, Green?"

I nodded my assent, stretching out all six limbs as an example. "Yes, sir. You were right to bring this to my attention: the artifact here was literally addressed to me…but I can't access the rest of it just yet. I need a bit of open space to work with. Preferably where you can move things around."

O'Neill quickly looked around the lab, seeing a good amount of clear space available. "This enough?"

In response, I unloaded my Recycler/Fabricator into the empty space, next to a wall. The sudden appearance of the machine startled everyone who was in the area as a result.

Fortunately, it fit. Unfortunately, It currently didn't have any power to work with. Which was currently not my problem. As I had more stuff to dump from my storage.

I moved to an empty table and started dumping weapons. My old photon rifle, now massively upgraded and even more deadly, hit first, followed by all eight of the multiple dual-mode cannons ( I was going to call them rifles, but the upgrades…), and the smaller Launcher system as well. The missile canister hit the table next, and then I started dumping all of the person weaponry I had picked up while on Necromunda. Lasguns, Volkite pistols, that one Hellgun that some idiot had left behind, Laspistols, every kind of slugthrowner imaginable, you name it, it was in there.

I was a little confused at finding a Q-Beam inside, though. I didn't remember specifically picking one up while we were on Talos, but that could probably just be my overlooking it. The GLOO gun and spare canisters I set on the floor next to the table, and my ever-trusty Hefty wrench followed.

I was…tempted to let out the spare parts and materials for the Selsenia-pattern armors that the Sisters of Battle wore into combat, but I relented on count of it not being worth the effort. Besides, I was shocking the people that actually were here as it was.

I left the STC Minibox in a corner after slapping a giant warning label on it to be careful when perusing the database, then did a final check. Looked like there was nothing left in my Impeller storage but junk and recycler cubes, the Hypervelocity cannons, my suite of fabricators, the Medical suite, and the frame's reactor unit. All of which were fully expendable, even with the upgrades that Thoth had applied. Oh well, it's not like I couldn't create better anyway.

[the standard loadout will be safe, as it is technically frame equipment. Only the reactor will be affected.]

And there we go for confirmation on goodies.

Now, to do the last bit: Running the batch file that would start the process…and there we go.

I felt the odd sensation of Thoth doing a massive desync while he finalized the setup process. Part of that was going to be annoying in about eight seconds.

O'Neill was there first. "Wha…where did all of this come from? You were unarmed when you came in!!"

I was watching the clock intently. "Impeller storage, sir. Think of it like a portable hole. I had to empty it out for what needed to happen."

And the last of the setup finished, as a green/blue beach ball-like object fell into my outstretched arms, right on schedule. "And this is going to be the part that gets annoying, as I have to reset everything with my suit to figure out what that Artifact does. One more moment, please, sir."

I quickly started the initial access sequence, and was met with status messages of several things happening at once. Including the Artifact decrypting.

I read the message contained within…and Immediately swore.

"Language!!"

"Apologies, sir." I demurred, "But this is not a good thing. Where did you find this Artifact, again?"

O'Neill was unimpressed. "We didn't. It found us."

Yeah, Thought so.

"Yeah, I was afraid of that." I looked the colonel directly in his eyes. "We have a problem, sir."

-={/\]=-​

Something had drawn their attention away from the endless squabbling and jockeying for over that was the great game. The Four found themselves curious as to what could have been so important as to have reverberations even deep within the empyrean, and all moved to investigate.

And what they found was wondrous beyond all description.

Methods of travel between worlds gateways between the stars…and ways of punching through even to other galaxies if need be.

And hidden within this bit of information was an odd message, addressed not to any one of them, but the Four as a whole.

And the contents had them bursting with malicious glee.

Yes. Soon that annoying interloper with the forge of stars would be dealt with…or even better, would be claimed as their own…

And failing that?

Well…there were so many worlds to choose from. Even across dimensions…

-={|||||||||||||||||}=-
-={|||||||||||||||||}=-​

Alrighty then, that is this chapter. It's only slightly a mess, so bear with me.

The later bits are several hanging plot threads coming into play all at once, along with a reasonable reaction to an unintended consequence of a particular action set.

Also, Stargate Command exists on Bet. All of the key personnel are present, in various capacities, and will be represented when Satori has time to do so (as was stated, He's getting pulled in several directions at once by just the military alone at this point, and adding in other concerns is a non-starter) so don't worry too much about character bloat, as he doesn't have time to really interact with people here yet.

Secondary note that Sam, Danny, and Teal'c are all on an unrelated assignment off-base and were intentionally unavailable for the meeting, leaving Jack to do it solo. So far it's a mixed bag.

As for the Artifact? I think I gave enough hints, but one more will suffice: Truth will be found by those who truly seek it.

Mouse Protector…is special. That's all I can say about that. She lucked out HARD on the awakening side, having a stupidly strong set of newtype powers to go with her just appearance, as well as aslo gaining the abilities of a Psychodriver from, Chouki Taisen SRX, a mecha series which is exclusive to the Super Robot Wars games.

Psychodrivers are kind of a parallel to Newtypes in abilities except focusing more on Telekinesis and direct manipulation instead of just enhanced sensory stuff. How these will interact with each other is still undecided and even in story it is not known if they are even a separate ability.

Last part: I have Finally had an excuse to drop the last of the perks I have had sitting on the shelf for just this moment. One of them was used to create an incident that would let me do a thing more easily, and the rest just flowed along. Each one is a perk that I have rolled previously and decided to delay implementing for story reasons. Also note that due to the way the forge itself is messed up, notice that the perks have been activated in the first place may be…delayed, despite their affect on reality.

The perks are as follows:

Spoiler: (The Instigating Bastard)

-Xenoarchaeologist (Stargate SG-1) (600CP)
For whatever reason, understanding the civilizations of old means you're able to understand alien technology a lot better. You may not know everything off the bat, but upon first sight you have an idea of what it was meant for... and the longer you look at it, the more information you can glean. Fiddling with it will let you familiarize yourself with it more quickly.

Spoiler: (the Stuff Falling off the Shelf)

-Mega Bomb | Guru (Chrono Trigger) (1200CP)
Mega Bomb (600CP)
Magic and Technology are both capable of some pretty fantastic things. So why not put them together, and see what happens? You now understand the secret to integrating magic seamlessly into your mechanical devices, enabling you to create devices like bombs powered with fire magic or medkits that use healing magic. While initially your devices will be one-shots that rely on a magical charge you have to deliver, in time, you'll learn how to make much more advanced fusions, such machines that run on magical power sources, or automated spellcasting devices. In the end, the only limit is your skill with machinery and magic.
Guru (600CP)
Back in the glory days of Zeal, Guru was a title reserved only for the most skilled and knowledgeable of their mages and scientists. You might not be there yet, but when I'm done with you, you'll be well on your way to deserving the title. Magic is akin to a science to you, letting you delve into the secrets of sorcery the same way a physicist would unlock the secrets of the atom. This also includes learning how to apply magical knowledge like an engineer does the sciences, letting you come up with breathtaking magical wonders. The Blackbird, the Mammon Machine, the Ocean Palace - who knows what you'll add to that list of legends.

-Fuinjutsu Prodigy (Naruto) (600CP)
You are one of the very few who are talented in the art of Fuinjutsu, an esoteric discipline combining all the complexities of calligraphy and physics. Despite the difficulty in learning fuinjutsu, skilled practitioners find it well worth it. Fuinjutsu, or sealing, is at its most basic storing something within something else through symbols to be released at another time. More advanced techniques still follow this same principle, but to great effect. Seal masters can seal away the elements, chakra, form summoning contracts, teleport, or even summon and bind souls using these principles. It's only downside is that this art is massively difficult to learn even for the talented, and will take years of intense study to master. You start off knowing how to make the two most basic of seals: The storage seal which allows you to store items in slips of paper much smaller than they are, and the explosive seal which is basically a few glyphs on a piece of paper the size of a greeting card that explodes like a small amount of plastique.

-Material Synthesis Science | Exotic Compatibility (Gundam - After Colony) (600CP)
Material Synthesis Science (200CP)
You know a few things about getting your own materials, but you also have a bit of know-how about how the people here get such quality materials. Normally, you know how to forge, quench and mold materials into more high quality specimens, but you have a specialization in Zero-Gravity Material Synthesis as well-in microgravity conditions, you can create much more effective materials thanks to the limitations of gravity being removed.
Exotic Compatibility (400CP)
You have a way of working with quirky and strange materials-in your hands and machinery, it assumes the forging and abilities of plain Iron until you begin building with it. You also can integrate exotic materials into your constructions a lot easier, and if you don't know what a material is or what it can do, you're very good at researching applications and properties of said materials. This research could also go into things such as improving production numbers and similar.

 

[Slider Zero]

Gaia stirred in her slumber.

The world she had nested in for her recovery, and eventual ascension, was not a poor one by any means, especially with the rampant changes that were happening at the moment. Even better, she was drawing all kinds of ambient power just from being so near to her parents, even with the Forge being…damaged, as it was, and leaking massive fluctuations and other paracausal zaniness outwards into reality.

One of those changes had prompted her to awaken just enough to peek outward at the universe, to see what had caused such a massive ripple.

It was for this reason that she alone saw when the Chaos Gods made their move outwards, spreading their corruption and filth into other realities, and even a few seeking to combine the might of other versions of themselves into one greater whole.

And they were moving quickly. Far too quickly for having merely just discovered a method to cross between dimensions, and most certainly for having discovered that other forms of Chaos existed.

This…could be a problem in extreme short order if nothing was done. But she herself was still far too weak to even exert herself on her own world, outside of paltry at best tricks, let alone act outside of that range…and her sister was stretched entirely too thin merely keeping together the decaying ruins of the Imperium that she occupied.

Worse, she could feel that the spatial anomaly that her world sat in was…shifting. And not in a good way.

But there was nothing that she could do, except watch and hope that she gathered enough power quickly enough to make a difference before it was too late.

'Father, Mother…Please stay safe.'

-=[/\]=-​

I had to say one thing: I liked the level of gravitas that the SGC gave to actual threats and issues. There was no wringing, no "are you sure?" issues, just myself and Colonel O'Neill headed directly back to General Hammond's office for the brief.

"So, you are saying this Artifact is part of a…key?"

Hammond was currently trying to wrap his head around things as I explained the issue.

"Yessir. The key itself is known as the Cipher, and is meant to seal away an, and I quote, "great evil". The evil in question is the source of a heavily mutagenic and corrosive substance known as Phazon. You do not want to be dealing with it in any quantities, at all."

And yet the Chozo felt the need to pre-position the fucking Artifact of Truth directly in a place where I could find it and be made aware that that got dragged around too. The message encoded deeper within made it clear that they were equally unamused at the prospect of another Metroid Prime existing.

The good news is that unlike the previous seal on Tallon IV, this one was a great deal more secure, thanks to sitting inside of a dimensional rift that was attached to Bet, and needed a whole separate set of keys to even open in the first place. The bad news was that the same message was blatant in its "reminders" that I was on a time limit to solve the corruption problem before the seal broke due to outside factors, none of which the Chozo seers could actually account for.

There was also the issue of needing to be aware of the fact that certain beings could simply bypass the initial lock and jump straight into the affected dimension…or that others could find a way to bypass even the seal placed on the area itself, because Parahumans.

Yeah, it was complicated.

Hammond was equally unamused. "How do we deal with it?"

I grimaced. "Normally I would suggest leaving it alone until later, sir. Main issues there are that it is entirely possible for outside factors to gain access to the seal itself, and potentially bypass it entirely, in order to release the creature sitting inside. Should that happen…well, it's not going to be fun, sir. For anyone."

Hammond nodded. "Any other considerations we need to know about?"

"The artifacts act as keys, sir." I replied. "There are twelve in total, and you need all of them in order to gain access to the area. Past that…whoever goes in there is going to need some serious firepower to actually deal with the issue, sir, assuming that they can even do so at all."

"This sounds familiar somehow." O'Neill noted. "Wasn't this in a game or something?"

'Err…yes sir." I did not want to be answering this question. Fuck. "This is the rough plotline of the first of the Metroid Prime games. And from what I remember, even then it took two more games, and a much bigger crisis, to actually finish removing the threat. I'm hoping that is not the case here, sir."

Hammond had leaned back into his chair, contemplating something. "In any case, Warrant Officer, this is well above all of our paygrades, regardless of other duties. I'll bring it to the attention of the President, but past that there is nothing I can actually do. I most certainly cannot order you to investigate these artifacts, use them to track down this threat, and then deal with it yourself, despite your having shown the capabilities to do so, as you are not under my command."

"If anything, this requires me to take further steps that you are currently not cleared for, which will likely also involve the President."

The sarcasm was thick in that statement, though none of it was aimed at me. Hammond knew there was a threat, but much like myself his hands were tied, as were those of his subordinates.

And I was not in a position as of yet to actually follow the not-orders I had just been given, either. I could already tell that this was going to get worse before it got better.

"General, I would recommend we have Green hang around in the research labs for a bit, see if we can pick his brain on some things. It would also help us to figure out the stuff he dumped on us in there, as well, kind of a clean-up thing. Maybe we hold him long enough for Danny to get back?"

"Agreed. Warrant Officer, I am temporarily assigning you to our research division until proper orders can come through. Assuming that everything goes as planned, I intend to have you working with my people as closely as possible. Any objections?"

"No sir, General. I'd be honored to help."

"Very well. Colonel O'Neill, get Mr. Green started on the process, then return. I still have matters to discuss with you. Dismissed, gentlemen."

-=[/\]=-​

Back at the labs, I finally got to meet Janet Frasier, Captain and Chief Medical Officer of the SGC. Calling it an honor was putting it lightly: That woman had made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of saving lives…and yet was also just as much of a nerd as the rest of the SGC was, even Col. O'Neill, who tried to hide his bits of nerdiness behind being goofy.

"Green, this is Dr. Frasier. Janet, Warrant Officer Green. He's hanging around for a bit to get used to the place while we work on some stuff. I figured I'd give him the ten-cent tour instead of the penny one." And of course O'Neill had to be silly about it, because O'Neill.

Dr. Frasier, on the other hand, was quite welcoming. "Welcome to the SGC, Mr. Green. Always nice to have people who understand the needs of medical science around."

I blinked in confusion for a moment.

"I'm in contact with your primary care physician, specifically over that nice medical device you left behind back in Houston." she stated, answering my unasked question. "Any chance I can get one of those for myself?"

Because of course she asks me after I lose access to all of my quick-fabrication tools and materials.

A sudden pressure on my head caught my attention.

I looked up into the eyes of a really cute turtle.

Cute Turtle looked back down at me with a smile.

I sighed. Of course I forgot to mention the Umahki I was carrying around with me.

And now O'Neill was laughing. "I see the Super Turtle likes you. This is a good thing."

…eh?

"Err...sir? Should I be worried?"

"Nope, Not at all. The little guy is kind of a mascot for the place, helps out a lot where he can. Was a really good find, too."

Great. Now I could never tell them that I had created the very concept no less than twelve hours ago, especially if they thought that it was some kind of ancient relic.

I scratched the Umahki's head a bit, and smiled as it preened under the ministration. At least I had a helper for what I needed to do.

"Anyway, before I was distracted by our friend here…Yes, Dr Frasier, I can build you one of the medical units. It'll take a bit longer, what with my main fabrication systems being offline for forced upgrades, but I can do it.

Mentally, I set a command to the little Umahki, asking about history and such. Surprisingly, the response was very verbose.

[I am called Hardy Shell, Creator. I have been assisting the Humans of Stargate Command for approximately six months now. Temporal anomalies are involved somehow, as I would not be deployed until…five minutes ago by the Great Mother.]

Meaning that I now had to converse with Mio as well…but that can come later. [Any thoughts on the nature of the anomalies? Might help me not run into a paradox, which would be bad.]

Hardy Shell made a warbling nose I recognized as discontent. [I apologize, Creator, but I do not have any information on the nature of the event, only that it happened,]

Well, there goes that option. Time to change tacks.

[Alright then, Hardy Shell, we're going to help out the SGC for a bit. Give the Doc here the proper tools to do her job, and then from there see what we can work with elsewhere. Also, I want you to go through the pile of crap I just dumped out of my impeller later, see how much the upgrade systems changed things, especially on the simple stuff like the Lasguns. I need to know if I can still recreate them without Thoth's gear.]

Hardy Shell made a sound of assent, a very light and cheerful noise, if I would say so.

So of course Col. O'Neill had to comment. "Yeah, the little guy definitely likes you."

"Something like that, sir. In any case, the Doctor asked me for some tech?"

-=[/\]=-
​

Using the time between building the parts needed to assemble the scanner, I picked the brain of Dr. Frasier, who then proceeded to pick my own in turn. It turned out to be an odd interaction, mostly because she was dialed in to a whole hell of a lot of things that I thought were classified at the highest levels regarding my future plans...including one certain aspect thereof that I hadn't mentioned to anyone outside of Col. Gibson, who was my nominal CO at the moment by dint of commanding my de-facto home station.

So her knowing of the fact that my abilities were fully capable of being taught to others was very much as surprise to me… and it garnered an appropriate reaction.

"Dr Frasier… How did you come across this information?"

She was, of course, evasive. "Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to say."

I was not buying it. At all. "Captain. How did you come across this information." And I was no longer asking, my intentions clear in my tone.

The resulting glaring contest lasted until she realized that I was not letting this go (and likely had the political capital to poke the chain of command until an answer fell out), and relented, if slightly. "It is part of a high-level briefing that was presented to Stargate Command personnel by order of the President. Your Col. Gibson passed along the information he received from you as part of the initial selection processes you mentioned you were going to need, and several of our personnel were selected as potential candidates, based on likely factors." That it was Captain Frasier that replied and not Dr. Frasier let me know that my disrespect would not go unremarked upon.

Unfortunately for the Captain, I was too busy being confused as all hell, having blinked at her answer, specifically the last part. "And just how would you know what I am looking for regarding criteria, anyway? I specifically never mentioned any of that, just in case we had more ears than the normal at Ellington."

My incredulous tone seemed to break the tension that had built up between us, as the Captain relaxed considerably and Dr. Frasier replied instead. "We have some dealings with people with unusual abilities that we have met during offworld exploration. It was decided that most of the factors you were looking for could be determined based on a wider range of what we had found out, though I admit our knowledge base and sampling size is…small."

I stared at the doctor for a moment, before sighing. "Apologies, doctor, but I am almost certain that, while you may have accidentally picked up a few of the people who I would be interested in, you have not actually figured out the proper criteria, at all. Especially because a full two-thirds of my requirements were purely intangibles related to physical and mental fitness."

I pointedly looked away from the doctor, taking the moment to make some final adjustments to the module I was working on for the medical scanner, which I had redesigned specifically for the SGC's use. "Besides, if you actually had cracked the code, you would be aware that you are on the list."

Dead. Fucking. Silence.

"Yes, doctor. You have the natural aptitudes that are indicative of the talent, and more than satisfy all of my other requirements. In fact, I am somewhat surprised that you haven't started developing abilities of your own, yet. I've seen at least two separate cases of the same happening already."

Dr. Frasier finally found her voice. "Excuse me, warrant officer, but you are saying that I have this potential? That somehow I am capable of learning all of this, despite everything we know saying otherwise?"

I finally turned back to the poor confused doctor and smiled warmly. "Not only are you fully capable, but you are more or less the ideal candidate for multiple reasons. Hell, if I had more time available, I'd get you started right now–"

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Hardy Shell, (who had suddenly run off to who knows where earlier) who was making excited noises as he rushed towards us. And clutched in a set of manipulators was a…brooch?

No, more like a pendant. The design was very much understated, a simple semi-transparent ruby-red gem in a plain silver mounting. The gem itself was kind of egg-shaped, with the backing clearly intended to sit comfortably around the user's neck. Its chain was equally understated, being a minimalist design and almost purely function over form.

The main issue I had was that I could feel the power flowing off the item even from where I was working, the pendant standing out like a floodlight to my senses, even without me actually trying to look. More importantly, Dr. Frasier seemed to be aware of the significance of the item as well, as she seemed to be almost pulled towards it somehow.

One of the Airmen assigned to follow Hardy Shell around (a popular task, as I'd learned from idle conversation with Col. O'Neill) quickly explained the situation to me. "The little guy here just pulled this from nowhere all of a sudden, and started rushing here as fast as possible. I think he wants one of you to take a look at it, sir."

I directed my gaze to Hardy Shell, who only got even more excited. [This will help you, Creator!!] He trilled out over the command link. [Please allow the doctor to use it!]

I tuned towards Dr. Frasier, who was now visibly restraining herself from taking hold of the pendant. "I think that is supposed to be for you, Doc. Should be harmless, from what I can feel."

I nodded at Dr. Frasier encouragingly, and she finally allowed herself to give in to the impulse that was driving her, collecting the pendant from Hardy Shell's grasp.

The process was both subdued and sudden. One moment, the pendant was a barely contained font of power, the next, that same power was flowing within and through Dr. Frasier, attaching itself in subtle ways to her spiritual form and awakening within her very specific knowledge and abilities, which were even now being communicated to her mind by the ambient enchantment on the item itself. Of course, I only knew this because the architect of this little endeavor had dropped a sensory packet on my head with the details shortly after said process had started.

Apparently Gaia was not quite as powerless as I had initially thought, and she was stretching her muscles by assisting people as she could. In this case, she seemed to think that Dr. Frasier would make a very good white mage, and happened to have a primer on hand from somewhere, and the brief didn't explain where. I assumed timey-wimey shenanigans and moved on.

Dr. Frasier, for her part, was ecstatic. "This…this is…I don't have any words. This is what you wanted to teach others how to use? What you think that others can learn?"

I nodded, even as Hardy Shell once again took up a place on my head, which smushed my poor fuzzy ears down in the process, though it wasn't painful. "Well, not that specifically. From what I can feel, that particular pendant there was a container for some knowledge on…healing, I think? That's what it felt like, anyway. What I have to teach is a completely different system compared to that, though they are not completely incompatible. Just different styles."

I moved forward a bit, my smile growing. "Honestly, having a doc, especially one of your skill, learning the ins and outs of supernatural healing is only a good thing in my book. And while I have some other methods in my hat as well, I would prefer to not completely overload you with multiple methodologies all at once…especially since I am going to have to ask you to pass on any knowledge you gain to those you feel are appropriate."

Dr Frasier turned her gaze back to me from the pendant, which she quickly donned and tucked into her uniform. "You want me to teach others what I know as I learn it…despite being a complete novice?"

I cut her off before she could build up steam. "Doctor, the pendant that you are currently wearing, if I am correct, has given you the knowledge of how to perform a series of simple casts, correct? Knowledge that is more or less flawless?"

Dr. Frasier nodded, and I continued. "Please take the pendant off and set it on the table for the moment."

The change was visible as the expected effect happened. Dr. Frasier quickly replaced the pendant on her person after understanding the point I was making. Which prompted me to continue. "If my hunch is right, then you are going to have to actually use the skills that you are being granted by that pendant, at least for a time, before the knowledge sticks with you, and you can pass it on to someone else. And after you are finished, you can use that accumulated knowledge to teach others. The pendant is just a fast method to learn. I'm not going to call it a crutch, because the intention is to actually teach others, but…"

Dr. Frasier chuckled softly. "You are completely making this up as you go along, aren't you, Warrant Officer?"

My grin was now downright infectious. "Hell, I'm still figuring this out myself. Most of why I want others involved is to spread the pain of figuring it out onto more heads."

Nods of understanding and mischief were exchanged between us, and together we began to talk shop once more as I got back to work on the Medical scanner, with Hardy Shell now helping out.

-=[/\]=-​

"Right, so…what do you want us to do with the pile of stuff you left in the lab?"

Col. O'Neill had decided to see me off after I cited time constraints (and that I had left my highly irritable wife unattended based on needs must, which needed to be rectified ASAP) which required me to be elsewhere, and Gen. Hammond had given his blessing to resume my downtime. The other techs in the labs, as well as Dr. Frasier, were sad to see me go, all for differing reasons, but I really had to start preparing for other things.

Which had prompted Col. O'Neill to ask about the pile of weaponry and technology that I had left behind. And that for the most part, I did not care about, having already collected the now significantly compacted standby form of my power suit, as well as my custom-build rifles.

"Well, colonel, I was expecting for someone to go tearing things apart to see how they work, and then maybe using what they learned to make more of them. I honestly don't need them at the moment. Although…I am going to ask that you be careful with the cannons. I may have built them, but not all of those modifications are mine, and it is entirely possible that something could break wrong and have…bad consequences."

Hardy Shell cooed at me, and I scratched his head a bit. [We'll be careful.]

Col. O'Neill himself was all smiles. "Don't worry, Green. We got this under control. Now, don't be afraid to drop by. We could always use a hand with the technical side, and I need to introduce you to the rest of the team eventually. I know Carter would love to meet you."

I nodded back firmly, before offering my hand. "I'll definitely do that, sir. Wouldn't miss it for the world." One handshake later, I offered a brief salute, before being escorted back to the teleport rings.

I, of course, didn't bother telling the colonel that I had ordered Hardy Shell to consider the SGC his personal assignment, and to act appropriately in that regard…including building more Umahki. Things were going to get very interesting around the mountain pretty soon, if all went to plan.

My mirth went unnoticed by my escort.

The return to Texas went easily, and I was soon on my way back towards the refugee camp, having been informed that Mio and MP had returned to the place after finishing their meal. I assumed that I was in for a bit of a grilling from my wife for taking so long with business and not checking in, but that was something that we could talk about later on. The bigger issue was going to be keeping Marcy out of things that the government did not want known by parahumans.

As it turned out, contrary to popular belief (and, if the widespread forum arguments were to be believed, authorial intent) back on my origin world, the US Government of Earth Bet was not entirely stupid and helpless. Non-PRT affiliated researchers, some of which were even assigned to the overall Project Blue Book, as well as a few "other" compartmentalized projects that I was not cleared to know about (aside from that a project with that theme existed in the most general sense, which in the world of classified was next to useless), had figured out and known for some time about the odd correlation between parahumans and knowledge of certain things and effects. Part of this was prompted by unknowing parahuman reaction to Blue Book itself, at least the documentation thereof, and the right people had noticed that almost immediately following the inadvertent data reveal the number of parahuman incidents related to the project spiked rapidly. The proper conclusions were drawn from this, and measures were taken, the extent of which, again, I had no need to know. Hell, even most of what I did know about the situation was from reading around and between the lines of what was being allowed to be discussed, which itself wasn't much at all.

Still, the fact that so many people were dead wrong about the strength and stability of a nation even in the face of cosmic apocalypse events was heartening to me. Now all I had to do was solve some other problems closer to home, like the refugee cases and Oripathy in general, and all would be golden…I hoped.

'And where have you been all this time, hm? Don't think I didn't notice you getting pulled out into the mountains. Spill.'

And of course, dealing with an inquisitive Mio. But that was the fun part.

-=[/\]=-​

The town of Pyrgi, set on the Grecian island of Chios, is a beautiful place with history stretching back to the glory days of the Greek Empire. Many who are not native know of the town primarily for the xysta–black-and-white geometric designs that cover the vast majority of the town's architecture (and which amusingly are an artifact of Genoese control in the past), and not much else aside from the standard tourist brochure stuff.

At least, that was the case, up until a few weeks ago, when all hell broke loose in the form of the Typhon. The local Transtar office (which was currently being used as an impromptu headquarters building in lieu of anything else, due to lack of contact with the main branch) was very much not equipped to handle the situation in any form. The only saving grace that was had was that the…survivors of Talos I had made their landing nearby, and had quickly moved to contain the situation, led by none other than Morgan Yu herself.

Who had become…something. Something that scared people.

The paranoia and fear was only amplified by the people who had come in shortly afterwards and finished containing the outbreak…and then just as swiftly silenced any and all news of what had actually happened from leaving the town itself. And who had then swiftly gathered up everything even remotely related to Transtar and shuffled them off to places unknown.

Morgan herself was not amused with the bullshit, as she was still doing the paperwork for having had to clean up that mess…and said paperwork came attached to certain obligations that she would rather have avoided, if she had a choice.

But the people who currently held her…well, not hostage, as that implied far more force than was being applied, but definitely indebted to them…they did not take "no" for an answer. Not when you had something they wanted.

"Dr. Yu, a moment of your time?"

And here was one of the annoyances now.

The man that was now entering the office that had been set aside for her use was…well, he reminded her of a much happier version of her own father, in many ways. Balding, glasses, and with a slight paunch that was clearly due to his age rather than his diet, he was nonetheless a spry man even in his late years.

He was also a genius engineer, the likes of which she had never seen before, at least not that she actually remembered. The fact that he was easily capable of not only keeping up with, but pushing past her own expertise was….only mildly annoying.

Not that she was surprised, with these people. It seemed they only wanted the best of the best, after all.

She did not respond to the man's request, but she really didn't have to, either, as he took the unstated invitation to step inside and close the door with a soft click. Quickly moving towards a loose chair, he sat down and made himself comfortable.

"Dr Yu. I wanted to check in on you, make sure you are adjusting to being here well. I understand that this is an…unusual process…"

Morgan cut him off. "You are holding me, and all of my personnel, against our will and against US law. I am only cooperating with you to ensure that no harm befalls them."

The man nodded to himself. "As expected. We haven't actually filled you in on any details, yet. That is part of why I am here, aside from ensuring your wellbeing. As for the other reasons…would you please follow me?"

Morgan, as expected of her, complied with the man's request.

They walked out into the main area of this section of…wherever they were, which happened to include a series of obvious engineering and fabrication labs that currently were seeing hard and frantic use in the creation of advanced technologies. Several of her own pieces of equipment were set off to the side on a workbench, obvious care having been taken in examining and maintaining the components therein.

The Q-Beam in particular was being given special attention, which didn't surprise her. Even she didn't know exactly how that weapon worked, only that it did, and to great effect.

The man with her (and she found it odd that she still didn't know his name, despite the rather noticeable ID badge he wore on that green windbreaker of his all the time) guided her through to a section of the facility that she had not seen before, what looked like a medical facility, except…

The empty containment cells made it clear what the place was meant for.

"As you can see, we are equipped to deal with a number of…interesting cases. May I assume that you are curious as to why that is?"

Morgan remained silent, instead casting her gaze around. Yes, this was clearly a separate research area, and it showed. More of the theoretical stuff, less of the actual hardware that would be developed from it. The differing demeanor of the personnel was equally a dead giveaway, There was an excited energy here, one that she felt in her bones even without tapping into her nascent telepathic prowess.

As usual, the elderly man seemed to be able to read her like a book. "I will assume yes, then. We here have a bit of a mandate, you see. We are meant to be the shield against threats similar to the Typhon that your corporation were using for their own ends. Mostly to defend the Earth from the threat that they pose, but also to prevent the kind of…issues that happened onboard your research stations."

At Morgan's shocked face, he only chucked. "Yes, we are aware of your Talos and Pytheas facilities…though the latter has had a bit of a change of management in recent days. Interesting times, these are."

Morgan blinked in confusion. Pytheas? She didn't remember a Pytheas anything–

A brief jolt of pain lanced through her head at the attempt at regaining a lost memory, and she let it rest. No need to go digging up the past, especially not when all evidence pointed to her old self being near completely amoral and driven solely by results, regardless of the cost.

Mikhaila may have been willing to forgive her for what happened to her father, but Morgan could not forgive herself. Not just yet.

Still, her minder had mentioned something interesting. "What do you mean that Pytheas has had a change of management? I was unaware of anything going on up there."

There was a brief pause, before a silent chuckle was heard from her companion. "Ah, yes. I forget that you have been busy being an introvert and have not heard. We have some…unique guests from the stars who have chosen to renovate the station, and even are asking for volunteers for crew."

Morgan wanted to bristle at the comment. She was in no way, shape or fashion an introvert…and yet, she very much had treated her current situation as adversarial from pretty much day one, despite the complete lack of the same from her hosts. If anything, they went out of their way to accommodate her in isolating herself and generally not sharing information.

The realization that it was, in fact, her own actions that had kept her in the dark about current events was a bit sobering, but nowhere near the level of the hammerblows that had been dealt to her by Talos…or what was left of Transtar.

Or her brother, for that matter.

Still, the subject had her interest and she had a willing target for interrogation, so… "Consider me intrigued, then. What exactly is going on there?"

Her companion moved to adjust his glasses, an obvious tic from a lifetime of having them. "Well, our guests have, in addition to renovating the base, managed to subdue something or another that was on the lunar surface itself. They have not offered details on what exactly it was that occurred there, even when questioned directly, but have assured the relevant authorities that the situation is resolved. Considering that the last…altercation was visible from almost anywhere on Earth in broad daylight, we felt that the concerns that we had were more than reasonable."

Morgan barely suppressed a flinch at the notice. That kind of firepower…she had never even heard of anyone possessing such a thing, and the only ones that had come close were the odd couple that had decided to butt in on Talos even at the expanse of their own sanity to save the fools that inhabited it from their own hubris.

Herself included.

Apparently her minder was more perceptive than she thought, as he once again chuckled softly to himself. "Yes, we are all aware of the kinds of energetic output that would be needed for any kind of altercation to be visible from the ground on Earth. This is why there was such relief when they decided to actually help people instead of being recluses, though some of my colleagues are rather excited by the prospect of studying them in greater detail, especially due to their unique, ah, features."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. The old man kept dancing around the topic, clearly not giving her the answer that she wanted, and intentionally so. Unbidden, a small arc of psionic energy danced on her palm, before she suppressed it.

There was no need to become hostile, not yet. This was just an old man indulging in typical old man games at her expense…and likely making a deliberately unsubtle attempt at drawing her out of her self-imposed shell.

Again she felt the pang of embarrassment as her own actions were rubbed in her face, and the solution dangled before her so simply.

'Fine, old man. I'll play along.'

"And who, exactly, were these people that are so important then, and what makes them so special?"

The slight grin on the man's face said everything she needed to know, and stung her pride rather nastily. Still, he didn't linger in answering. "The main reason is that, despite still being human–or, at least, humanoid–they possess additional traits and features that seem to pull from traits of various animals. The phenomena has been noted with some of our other dimensional refugees," he waved an arm at a group of technicians that they passed by, each of them clearly having a different mix of traits in that blend, mostly relating to animal ears and a tail, "and new recruits, but it is something we wish to look into still, especially as the initial medical evaluations that were performed showed a great deal of variation from what we know."

"As to whom they are…they identified themselves as a married couple, a Sergeant, of the United States Air Force, no less, and his wife, along with a-yet unidentified attending personnel. A Sergeant and Mrs. Green, in fact. I believe they are currently in Houston liaising with NASA on a number of things related to the space program at the moment–"

Morgan checked out about then, having fixated on the name.

Green.

It was them, she was sure of it. The sudden growth of the technology sector? The appropriation and renovation of a space to call their own? The fact that Pytheas would very likely have had a Typhon presence that needed to be cleared out, thus making it a logical secondary target? All of this added up perfectly in her mind. Only one more thing would be needed to confirm it.

She finally turned towards her companion (who she still had not properly introduced herself to, nor had he introduced himself in turn), making a brief hand motion to interrupt his slight rambling. "Please excuse me for interrupting, but by any chance would Sergeant Green have two fox tails or similar?"

He didn't even nod. "Ah. I see you have met them before. I would like to hear the story sometime, if you are amenable. Another time, however, as we have arrived."

Their destination, as it turned out, was a sublevel laboratory that from the looks of it had only recently been assembled. The usual detritus of science and progress lay strewn about, complete with various techs working diligently at their tasks. Two things, however, caught her attention.

The first was Dr. Igwe, clearly noticeable by his minor vitiligo. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and if his enthusiasm was any indication, whatever he was working on was truly astounding.

The second, however…

"And why, exactly, are you working with my company's proprietary neuromod technology? You could have at least had the decency to ask for permission. Such lack of manners, here."

She really couldn't help herself on that one. The clear sight of pretty much every piece of data that had been collected on the neuromod technology being prominently displayed on the large monitors was a dead giveaway. And, now that she bothered to apply thought to it, Igwe was only really ever this enthusiastic about his work in neuroscience…

Igwe himself seemed pleasantly surprised to see her. "Morgan? I had no idea that you had been brought onto the project. This is excellent news. We can use your knowledge in sifting through the data on the Typhon neuromods. You are the only one who has any first-hand experience with them, after all."

Morgans frown, under normal circumstances, would have pushed Igwe back into his normal shell. It was something she had noticed while they were moving about Talos, and had confirmed by some of her old notes from her quarters onboard the same. This time, however, Igwe stood his ground, actually facing her and looking her squarely in the eyes, which was a notable change from his prior demeanor.

"The neuromod technology is actually secondary to the project that we are undertaking here, Morgan. What we are working on is nothing less than unlocking and harnessing the power of the human mind." Igwe turned back to his station, and a brief command brought up a chart on the main screen. "Our data on the Typhon and the effects of Typhon-based neuromods has shown that the potential is there, and even Green's own work, as little as I have available, has been proof of concept. Adding it together with the data contained here, we may very well be able to accomplish exactly what we were originally striving for with the neuromods in the first place."

And there was Green again. That name was quickly becoming far too common in her world, and she wasn't sure what to think about it.

Unbidden, the memory of a comforting hug in her darkest moment flitted into her mind, followed by the equally warm memory of actual concern for her well-being, no matter how snarky the shell it hid beneath.

Guess there was still some unfinished business there after all.

Morgan quickly gathered herself before glossing over the data points, after which she returned to the main subject. "And you are just cooperating with them? Giving them what they want, no questions asked?"

Igwe's frown clearly communicated that she was missing something. "Morgan, are you really that blind? The threats we face are only growing, and humanity will need every tool that we can scratch up to pull through. The Typhon were only the beginning, Morgan. What comes afterward–what is arriving right now–is more important than petty corporate interest and intellectual property."

Her minder chose now to jump in. "Actually, Dr. Igwe, Dr. Yu has chosen to remain isolated for some time, and is not fully up to speed on current events. I brought her here in part to help alleviate this, and hopefully secure her assistance."

"It would help if I actually knew where I was, and who you are, old man." Morgan knew she was pouting, but she really didn't care. She was tired of being kept out of the loop.

For his part, the old man simply smiled. "Finally, you ask the simple questions. I'll have you back into normal society yet." The clear dad joke only earned him a bigger pout. "Alright, I've had my fun, Dr. Yu. you can relax."

He moved towards an unoccupied console and began typing, likely an authentication sequence. Shortly thereafter, the main screen was dominated by a simple blue logo, a pentagon shaped insignia of the globe and what appeared to be searchlights in an X formation bracketed by stars. The usual Latin phrasing beneath was ignored for now.

"My name is Dr. Raymond Shen, head of engineering for this complex, and this project as a whole. As to where you are…the location itself is classified, but we like to call it the Anthill."

"Dr Yu, I would like to formally welcome you to the home of the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit, to use its formal name."

Dr. Shen's grin turned slightly malicious. "Welcome to XCOM, Doctor."

-=[/\]=-​

Lenneth and Silmeria were roving around Miakoda as they usually did, the kerbal in search of yet more thrilling adventures and her fairy companion egging her on even as she faked advising caution for the others.

Sadly, adventure was sorely lacking at the movement, as even with the machinery inside the hangar pushing out new and interesting things to play with, there wasn't much to do with it just yet. The fact that the system (that she had only recently learned the name of) had been willing to snap-produce her a test-type mecha to alleviate her boredom with was nice, but there still wasn't anything fun to do.

Shooting at targets all day, no matter how good the simulators that the two of them had built had gotten, was still boring.

"Lenneth, there has to be something that I can sink my teeth into around here!!"

The fairy simply shrugged. "I tried teaching you some simple magic so we could have spellcard duels, but you were being stubborn about it. Not my fault you don't want to learn anything except piloting."

The raspberry she received in response was about par for the course between them. Yes, Silmeria was by far her best friend, but gods could that girl be annoying sometimes with her sheer hyperactivity.

Even fairies needed to rest sometimes, silly green girl!!

"But I didn't wanna do all of that work right now. Learning magic is hard, especially without the big guy around to help, you know?"

Lenneth could only sigh in frustration. "Then at least channel that energy into something useful. We can use the mech–which you still need to name, by the way– to go mine asteroids or something. Do proof-of-concepts for things that need a crack pilot and expert navigator. Stuff like that. Hell, the freaking mech you had built is basically an ace pilot's wet dream, and I know that Jeb has been getting antsy since the Phoenix launched herself into the unknown. Set up a racing league or something!!

Silmeria stopped to think about it. After all, a racing league would be a nice idea, and would get the pilots (and thus Jeb) something to do to keep them out of the science-types hair while they worked on stuff. Besides, it would let her kill several birds with a single stone, too, as the techies wanted some more performance data on the thruster systems that the Builder unit and the Tester were kicking out.

The damn things had somehow taken a "standard" vernier thruster from a mobile suit (and wasn't she surprised to see the tech on that!) and not only miniaturized the damned things, but somehow applied the weird repulsor tech that was part of the "new arrivals" section of the database. Combine that with a pretty interesting energy source that in theory could produce some insane output in an extremely small size, and you got a recipe for insanity.

The tentatively named Repulsor-Vernier was currently in its third revision, the prototypes of which were mounted on her still-unnamed mecha for testing purposes (officially anyway). The first generation thrusters had served as a good proof of concept, and the second a test of how hard the system could be pushed when mounted in place of regular thrusters. The current batch of V2's were insanely responsive, had a ridiculous thrust output relative to their power draw, and when designed large enough, or at least in large enough clusters, were incredible for moving things around. And the V3 was already fully proving to have surpassed all design targets in that regard.

Naturally, the Tester was playing around with Aerospace variants to be placed on planes and such with spare process cycles, something that the command staff (and Werhner) absolutely loved as it let them play with their spaceplane concepts more.

And none of that helped her in any way with her boredom, because the jerks refused to actually build anything that she could then fly around in. Hence, the mecha and everything that went with it.

"Oh! Here's an Idea! Instead of just being a mere race, how about we add combat to the mix? Make with the shooty bits alongside the maneuvering and stuff, right?"

Lenneth gave her a look. Silmeria cheerfully ignored it and pushed on.

"We can use the modified grav guns, I think. Have it force people off-course, maybe a few fixed traps for those who are in the lead, or something similar. Make it like that Mario Kart thing, but with less random. Or like Wacky Races. It'll be fun!"

As much as she wanted to groan in frustration at her friend's antics, Lenneth couldn't help but grin at the implications of the idea. It could easily become a thing that actually was worth the effort in putting up with the excess energy…

'I knew showing those old cartoons to her would pay off…'

Still, it would require actual participants. The mech that they were currently testing, while easily produced, was annoyingly difficult to master even with the control system improvements that applying the 'learning computer" concept to the suit gave out. Getting people interested in fourteen meters of ceratitanium alloy (another invention of the Tester that was being fielded on their suit) while knowing how hard actually operating the things was without experience was going to be a tough sell all around.

And that was taking the sheer level of daredevilry and general carefree nature of both the kerbin and fairies alike. Off the top of her head, she could only think of maybe five people who would be interested, aside from Jeb. And that was barely enough to really get going!!

"Alright, so say we set this up. How do we get the others involved? You already know that most of the other fairies are averse to the mechanical side, the techies notwithstanding, and on the other end the bare handful of pilots among the other kerbin are too few. So how do we bridge the gap, hmm?"

Whatever response Silmeria was going to give was interrupted by the alert klaxons blaring.

Neither of them hesitated, rushing to the nearest terminal to see what the hell was going on that needed the actual klaxons going instead of just an alert to the flexipads.

Silmeria would remark later that she wished that she had kept her big mouth shut and not invited Murphy to the table.

-=[/\]=-​

Rico, despite what others may have believed, was actually having a great time.

Sure, he was separated from his lord for the time being, and this planet was…different from what he was used to, but everything was also new and interesting!!

He'd even managed to make a friend in the process, a young woman who was in desperate need of someone, anyone in her corner in her life, especially with how things were going lately. The rapid changes to the rest of the planet most definitely did not help matters in the slightest for her in dealing with it herself, and her father, the sole remaining family she had left, was not only still in mourning for his dead wife, but was actively struggling to keep not only his own household, but arguably the entire rest of the town from collapsing in on itself and devolving into what the locals would call a "Hive of Scum and Villainy".

That both she and her father had levels of unrealized talent with magic that he had only seen in Harry since his most recent awakening was besides the point. They needed help, and he provided it to them.

And if that help just so happened to come along with a bit of tutoring in certain abilities and skills, well…nobody needed to know where they learned them, right?

That he was able to hold this up for a good month before things figuratively went to hell was a blessing in his eyes.

The local gang elements had gotten it in their heads that they were entitled to his power for whatever reason, and had made attempts to curry favor with him at various points…all of which were rebuffed in short order. Though, thinking back, the "offer" from the Merchants was weird: they seemed very much like they were trying to get him to ground as quickly as possible and then make it look like he'd been "drugged up" to vanish him from the public eye, and thus the gaze of the other major gangs of the city. He'd regretted that he hadn't actually followed up on the odd lead…it seemed like it was something actually far more important than it seemed.

Unfortunately, he was having enough trouble keeping his activities hidden from prying eyes as it was, especially with the amount of hacking that needed to happen to get the relevant information he needed to actually get by in the first place. The fact that the local PRT (and wasn't that a joke of an organization; He was going to have a discussion with his lord about dealing with the idiots when they met up again) was on his list of "gangs of the city" spoke volumes about the state of things here.

Still, managing to fend off the advances of the gangs while still keeping in touch with his friend was a rewarding experience. That it let him meet the other still decent people of the town (that is, not attempting to gain off of the misery of others) he considered a bonus effect.

At least, until the moon flat-out tried to explode on people. And unlike literally everyone else on the planet, he had the ability to get actual, proper resolution on the issue and see what was happening.

And watching his lord get tossed around like that did not sit well with him in the slightest, even though he knew just by how the battle was progressing that there was nothing he could actually do to interfere with things, especially not with the fucking multidimensional construct of feathery doom sitting in orbit and making damn sure he didn't flex too hard.

Oh yeah. He may have forgotten to mention that the Simurgh thing had taken a personal interest in him, and it had taken basically everything he could do on the matter to not call down the wrath of an Endbringer onto a people that had no effective way of actually fighting back against the thing. Didn't matter that he was sure that he could eventually beat the thing; By the time he'd actually managed to land the killing blow the place would have already been condemned by the powers that be as "too dangerous" out of fear of brainwashing.

Because somehow, actually running people through a reasonable checks system was too much effort for the people here. Oh no: they had to instead blockade entire cities that had been visited by the feathered bitch and condemn the inhabitants to exile forevermore because they might have been a threat.

Whoever created that little guideline was going to get a very nasty visit from him once he figured out who the hell they were.

Still, aside from the Simurgh basically sitting on him to make sure things didn't deviate too hard from its precious master plan (good luck with that, dumbass, Mr. Hebert was a freaking natural with technics, and his daughter was only slightly behind him), his forced inaction from the moon battle was the most annoying section of his pseudo-vacation so far.

Though he did admit that hearing his Lord's voice again, and the sheer giddiness in it no less, was a balm on his soul, as battered as it still was after nearly being torn apart by the blue tumor.

It was for that reason (and most definitely not because Taylor had managed to bully him into teaching her magic, or that her father had then piled on and made sure it became a habit, to include the other members of his Union, no siree) that he had decided to ignore the contact signal being broadcast from the newly renamed Miakoda station. Well, that and the fact that revealing that he was actually a weird alien thing that may technically count as a really advanced AI system seemed like a really, really bad idea, even with the fact that Miss Mio had somehow eaten the feather bitch.

Didn't stop him from setting up long-range probes and scanner setups to keep an eye on his Lord's activities. And what activities they were, too. The whole Oripathy thing was actually a big deal up here too, especially because it took heavy-duty healing magic (as in, he actually had to use Saresta to make the healing stick on the few Terran refugees that he'd run in to, and the only thing stronger than that in terms of photon technics was designed explicitly to bring people back from the dead) to get around.

Which is why he'd swiped a not insignificant portion of the cure that his Lord had whipped up and started distributing it to the refugee camps whenever possible as a medicine that had been developed. He made sure to make it known that the creator was a Medical Operator in Houston, and was clearing out the hospitals of oripathy patients as quickly as he could get to them down there.

Cue the waterworks from the entire lot as they rushed to attempt to contact family and friends that had been shipped off in an attempt to get them closer to the new miracle healer, by the US Government no less.

And then the second problem had come up: the so-called Empire had taken offense to his helping those they considered "beneath them", and had forced his hand in revealing certain things.

Namely, that his default appearance was not that of a caucasian male.

Cue clusterfuck.

Fortunately, by then most of the city knew better than to piss him off (mostly because the one time the so-called dragon had tried, Rico had thrown a Barta variant that he'd been working on at him and left the resulting Lungsickle to thaw out on its own), and so the most that came of it right then was the Empire publicly declaring that hey would have their revenge for the deception.

Oh, but he was so, so, so tempted to just fry them all right there and be done with it, or drop a breaker spell on their not-so-secret headquarters over at Medhall.

'That's right, nazi fucks. I know where you live. Wasn't even hard to find, either…'

But no, his Lord would not approve of just erasing the fucking Nazis from existence without cause, so he stayed his hand. All the more pity, as the idiots made multiple attempts afterwards to try and test him, all to no avail.

He was just thinking about maybe getting a move on and heading to actually check up on this "Umahki" project that his Lord had cooked up when he got a comms ping from Miakoda…from one of the Kerbals? Whatever it was, it was oddly low-power for a place that had a comms antenna available for regular transmission. He was only picking it up because of his own sensor gear being tuned to listen in on the place.

'...I say again, this is Miakoda Station. We have major incoming of multiple bandits on an attack vector, headed for planetfall. Prepare all ground defenses and stand by to repel invasion immediately. I say again…

Rico openly swore, startling poor Taylor, who had been using him as a comfort plush with his permission (she needed the positive contact) and quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Both of you get somewhere safe, NOW. Take your wands with you, you'll need them to defend yourselves if and when the invaders break through. I have things to take care of."

Danny only hesitated for a moment before rushing to grab his bug-out bag (a necessity in a place like Brockton Bay.) Taylor, on the other hand, desperately clung to her precious friend.

"Let me come with you. I can help!"

Rico regretfully pried himself free of her grip, again. "Taylor, I'm sorry, but I have to go. Alone. This is big. Bigger even than an Endbringer. The Earth is being invaded…and I'm one of the few people who even knows it's coming, let alone has enough power to act against it."

He began powering up his active defenses as he moved towards the door, though he maintained eye contact. "And while I appreciate the offer, you aren't ready for the kind of fight that this is going to be. This is not the usual cape game of cops and robbers, where everyone gets to go home at the end of the day. These beings, who or whatever they are, will be shooting to kill. And while you are many things, Taylor Hebert, you are not a soldier."

He turned away from her then, remembering his prior adventures…and the snatches of his prior lives as well. "Unfortunately, I am. This is my duty, as much as I wish I never had to perform it."

Taylor hesitated, caught between two separate decisions…before finally slumping in defeat. "Fine. But you'd better come back!!"

RIco smiled. "Sure thi–"

His proximity sensors threw up an emergency alert. One of the clusters of ships was headed right for him. That much he'd expected from anything that could Direction-Find his radio frequencies or even his transponder beacon. No, what this particular emergency alert was for was something far more important.

Because the overwhelming majority of the fleet was headed directly for Houston. More specifically, Directly for his Lord.

And they had just increased speed.

He didn't even think. Just fired off a wide-band, ultra-high power broadcast on as many frequencies he could be sure that his Lord was still monitoring, and prayed for the best.

Moments later, the initial wave hit Brockton bay…and the battle had begun.

-=[/\]=-​

I was busy fending off Mouse Protector's attempts at wheedling out where the suits had dragged me off to when my head all but exploded in noise as a message blasted through it. Judging from the people gripping their heads around me, they had "heard" it too, which was both encouraging and concerning all at once.

But the contents of the message had me frozen.

LORD, INVASION HEADED DIRECTLY FOR YOUR POSITION. GET TO COVER NOW

I looked up at the sky as the message finally registered.

And thus, I was able to see as the first shots came crashing down.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

And to think, this only took me two months.

I freely admit that this is not my best work. In fact, it is likely far from it, Still it is what we have. Feel free to criticize me for it, so I can improve.

Seriously, Real Life was kicking me in the teeth for a while, and I lost my will to write, but I am very much back…and things are getting…spicy. As in the Ayys are coming in super hot and are not giving a fuck.

Anyway, here we have things being elaborated on, and, more importantly, why Rico was playing absentee for so long (which actually wasn't that long in-story).

Next Chapter? Welcome to the World of Loudening Screams.

 

[Slider Zero]

Okay, this took forever and a year, mostly due to me rewriting multiple parts of it several times to work better. This is about as good as it's getting without me tearing the whole thing apart again, and I am trying to avoid doing just that to prevent another delay, so here you go.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -
​

Alma Durand was enjoying her afternoon, and what a great afternoon it was!! The sky was a clear blue, there was a nice and refreshing breeze blowing in from the cooler north, and she was having entirely too much fun playing in the park with other kids who had no idea of her gifts, and thus weren't going to call her the weird or creepy girl out of fear or wariness. She'd even managed to (mostly) suppress her own aura enough that people weren't automatically associating her with something dangerous!

Even better, the really strong minds that she had been following around the other side of the planet for a few days now seemed to be relaxing into a pattern of sorts, and were openly radiating their contentment and desire to help others wherever possible.

But that had nothing on just being able to run around and play like a normal kid for once, without worrying about everyone else being scared of her, or trying to do all of the normal "odd kid" annoyance tactics.

Coming to this park was one of the best ideas ever.

And it only got more better when one of the local heroes, a Mr. Hannibal (after the tactician, she'd caught a stray thought from the man confirming it) stopped by to hang around and generally be friendly with the public, which just so happened to include the gaggle of awestruck kids that immediately surrounded him.

As expected, he was immediately mobbed and held up for autographs, selfies, and other such cape fandom stuff. Not that he minded in the slightest, and the stray thought that Alma caught from him as he was taking a selfie with her that he sought out a park precisely for that purpose.

Something which the kids (and the adults, for that matter) quickly took full advantage of.

Alma took a moment to check in on her sister though her psionic powers. Annette seemed to be doing alright, for the most part, aside from the usual stress of being stuck in traffic for one reason or another. It was a far cry from her mental state not even a few months prior, when the memories of the accident that had killed their parents (and left the both of them without a scratch) had flared up again.

(The resulting shitstorm over the severity and number of tests and checks that the two had been subjected to at the insistence of the American PRT was a minor controversy for a bit afterwards, even if their names had been scrubbed from the incidents.)

No, her sister was fine, for all that she wished she was somewhere else at the moment. What was more concerning was the sudden appearance of a lot more of the "lights in the sky", the psionic traces of what she believed to be some kind of aliens or another that had been observing things for as long as she had the ability to notice it. Those "lights" had not only multiplied, but brought multiple smaller candles with them…and the candles were rapidly falling from the sky in various places around the world.

Including right here in Paris.

Alma only managed to get the sudden impression of raw, naked aggression and anger flowing from the falling candles–no, minds– before the first shots fell…followed by the pods. And then the weird gas.

And then the screams.

-=[/\]=-​

David Landiels, better known to the public at large as Eidolon, the world's strongest parahuman, was in the midst of a minor moral crisis. It, of course, involved the recently arrived Green couple, as most things in Houston did nowadays, and the utter chaos being left in their wake, intentional or otherwise.

On the one hand, they were doing good work, helping wherever they could and even pulling together the best scientific minds that were left in America onto a new path, one that would see humanity lifted from the downward spiral that they had been in for years now. That the woman of the pair–Miolala, he believed her name was?-- had managed to not only defeat but outright kill the Simurgh in not only record time but with almost contemptuous ease was simply wonderful.

It definitely removed one of his own long-term worries from the table, that's for sure, and had he the time to do so he would have been the first to congratulate her on her victory, and the great service to humanity that had been rendered as a result.(Some of the parties were still going, even now, as people finally let the truth settle in that the Endbringers could be killed.)

On the other hand, what they were doing was dangerously reckless, and could jeopardize everything that Cauldron had been working towards for years now simply due to their not knowing what they were stepping into. Scion was still by far the greatest threat to the planet, and even if the pair were capable of taking out Endbringers, that didn't mean that the same could be said of the Entity that still existed.

The Cauldron council had been split on the issue: Rebecca had been insistent that the pair be brought under their control as soon as possible, regardless of the costs. Doctor Mother, in a rare moment, actually agreed, noting that the two running around as they saw fit would only damage their efforts against the remaining Entity further than they already had been.

Kurt, of all people, had disagreed, stating that the two could just as easily work alongside them, and help solve the greater problem once they were properly aware of it…though he admitted that actually informing them carried its own risks.

Risks that none of the others were willing to take, especially as Contessa couldn't actually path either of them, and didn't have enough information to make a workaround yet–

Another explosion drew him out of his thoughts and back onto the mess that was the current Houston battleground.

Because apparently things weren't going badly enough, and they had to have an outright alien invasion happening as well.

He'd mobilized the Houston Protectorate and surrounding PRT Divisions under his own authority after the first shots had fallen, and even now was working with the few first responders that were left to try and make sense of the ongoing chaos.

Which was hard, because the fucking aliens were everywhere.

And they were all playing for keeps.

More weapons fire burst out of a shaded piece of rubble, the green bolts of energy being absorbed by his current defensive power as he flew about and drew as much attention as possible from the others.

They…were not doing so well,

Of his personal team, only a handful remained. Hawkwind had been killed by one of the smaller bastards scuttling about, his chest literally blown straight through, even despite his own brute rating. Frostbite wasn't doing much better, having taken severe burns after her attempts at shielding one of the energy blasts, only for it to create a giant steam bomb almost directly on top of her with the impacts. That she was even still alive at all was a miracle, and the available PRT troopers were desperately trying to prevent her injuries from finishing the job.

And Dispatch, his second-in-command…the creatures had done something to him, some form of master effect that had confused the lines just long enough for untold havoc to be wreaked on the responding force…before he then killed himself in full view of everyone.

The small wards team he was trying to get out of the line of fire had the misfortune of having a front-row seat to the event…and David was almost certain that all of them were traumatized for life.

Worse yet was the toll being taken from the PRT troopers. None of them were prepared for an event like this, where the enemy was not only fighting back with superior weaponry, but openly uncaring of collateral damage or afraid of taking lives. The disconnect between what they were trained to deal with and what they were actually facing had already killed a full half of the squads deployed alongside them, and the rest were not equipped to actually properly fight back. Sure, there were more than a few Military and SWAT veterans who reacted properly, like it was an actual warzone, and they were under fire, but the rest were dead or dying before anyone could spread the word, and the casualties were only getting worse by the second.

He'd tried calling for backup. Tried using his authority as not only a Protectorate leader but as a member of the Triumvirate to get the National Guard deployed to Houston immediately…only to find out, to his horror, that they were not the only ones being hit, and that forces were spread thin everywhere, with the closest possible reinforcements being not only completely conventional but two states away.

The dispatcher had given him the grim news as plainly as he could: nobody was coming to help them.

And so the task fell to him to save as many as possible from whatever dark fate awaited…except the sheer chaos of the attack had caught everyone flat-footed.

Including and especially the civilians, who were rushing around in a disorganized mess trying to find safety wherever they could, and often running into traps or forces designated specifically for just such an event, either being slaughtered by the creatures or captured by the strange pods and the equally strange gasses that they released. He wished he'd had time to investigate further, but even being a giant target dummy was taking all of his attention as he flew about the besieged city.

Fortunately, it wasn't all bad news. Among his protectorate team, the rookies were doing shockingly well. Grey Knight was somehow managing to hold his own, despite drawing a not inconsiderable amount of attention to himself in his attempts to protect the civilians caught in the crossfire, and his other rookie, who had somehow managed to slide by with the name Psycho Mantis (he shuddered at the memory of the showdown between her and Glen Chambers; it was nasty) was somehow managing to throw her own back at the invasion forces while covering for a loosely organized retreat. It was actually working, for the most part, as they got people to shelters, or at least the sturdier buildings, so that they could hide somewhat. Being so close to downtown was not helping at the moment, as the fucking rat warren that was downtown proper was proving to be impossible to properly fight in, and the normal fallback point for most disaster relief that was the Convention Center was unfeasible for a number of reasons.

And the more he dithered in trying to get the situation under control, the more people died.

Spotting what looked like a police cordon, under fire from the small gray fuckers, he rushed down to assist, utilizing a plaster power that seemed to fire pulses of gravity or similar. His targets didn't last long, and he quickly turned to the harried group of HPD officers, who were clearly having a bad day.

He very pointedly ignored the bodies of their comrades strewn around them, obviously the work of their current opposition. Just as much as he had been ignoring the screams echoing across the city, even now, and from so far away…

He would have time to deal with that ball of issues later.

They were more than happy to see him, as one of the officers was quick to attest. "Oh thank god. We'd thought that everyone else had been killed by now."

Eidolon could only nod, somberly. "Not all of us are dead yet. Do you have any other officers available? Some kind of response plan? We need to get organized immediately or else this is going to get much worse."

The officer, a heavyset Latino man whose name tape read MUNOZ, responded with an aggravated sigh. "We've been trying. Main dispatch is too busy trying to get people back into some sort of shape after things went to hell, and everyone is scattered all over the city with next to no support. SWAT is being called in, but most of the teams were off-duty and are caught in the crossfire just like everyone else. We've tried calling in to the other counties, but they are getting hit just as hard. Nobody knows who is supposed to be in charge of anything, and every time we start setting something up, the fucking Ayys," He spits in the direction of the alien corpses, "come barreling in and fuck over whatever we were getting going. It's a madhouse."

Eidolon grimaced. It was worse than he had thought. This level of coordination was only usually seen with parahuman gangs like the Elite, and they never went this far in escalating violence. If this kept up…

"Alright, here's what I want you to do." he started. "The PRT has a cordon being set up on Quitman, using the school as a backdrop. Try to get there and use that as an ops center, then get as much coordinated as possible, so we can get moving–

His instructions were interrupted by the appearance of another grouping of aliens. This time, though, there was a distinct difference, as instead of the small, hunched over forms that they were used to, the aliens coming here were big, hulking forms of obvious immense strength and power, and held equally dangerous-looking weaponry as well. Worse, they were accompanied by several of a variation of the smaller ones in what looked to be a personal power armor system of some sort or another.

And they were coming straight for his position, firing the entire while.

The good news was that his absorption shield power was holding up well enough to the task. The bad news was that his offensive ability was not doing anywhere near as well.

And the officers had no such protection, let alone power, to aid them.

Eidolon moved, twisting and contorting as much as he could to cover as much as possible of the officers as he could. It was, sadly, only partially successful. Munoz had managed to get down in time, but his partner was not so lucky, and took a hit to her shoulder that blew her arm clean off, and scorched her entire side with heat. Others took worse hits, from a tall black man taking a hit directly to the upper torso from one of the larger alien guns as he attempted to fight back, causing his entire upper body to just vanish, to the poor, small woman who was now cradling the remains of her leg that she had failed to pull back into cover in time before getting shot at.

Eidolon roared, his rage palpable as he lashed out at the beings who dared kill those under his protection. His gravity pulse attack did not do anywhere near as much as he wanted it to, but it was still enough to put a significant dent in the oncoming forces, overcharged as it was by his emotional state, and at least stall the advance.

Still, it was only a partial stall, and the bigger aliens basically just barreled through the attacks and kept rushing in regardless. Eidolon focused in, preparing to go into melee if needed.

It was this focus that was the only reason he saw what happened next.

A blur zoomed into the formation of aliens and all but exploded in their midst. Mechanical components were torn asunder, parts strewn everywhere as the power armored gray things were ripped apart, piece by piece, by something swathed in a dark blue light of some kind. The larger ones attempted to react, only to have that same bluish light–now shaped vaguely like a claw?--reach out and just…the only word he could even use was "yeet". It just yeeted the heads off like they weren't even there to begin with at all.

It wasn't even a full two seconds later that the entire group was just dead. And as for the person responsible…

Eidolon sucked in a breath.

He wasn't expecting this, not at all. The figure before him was tall, taller than a great deal of people he had seen before, in fact. The clothes he was wearing were equally simple, being an older set of unadorned cargo pants in olive drab, along with a black t-shirt covered by a simple vest in the same color as his pants. Amusingly, green combat boots rounded out the ensemble, which to the best of Eidolon's knowledge was not proper regulation for that particular uniform setup.

But the thing that most caught Eidolon's attention were the distinct canine ears–vulpine, to be specific–perched atop the man's head, along with the twin black tails swishing angrily behind and trailing energy in their wake.

As much as the bureaucrats on both ends of the PRT/DOD divide had been trying to prevent it from happening, it would seem that he would finally get to meet the infamous Satori Green in person.

Said person's ears immediately swiveled in his direction before a commanding voice called out.

"Eidolon, don't bother with trying to get anything set up in downtown proper, the place is swarming with hostiles, and in disturbing numbers. Instead, get a group to try and clear out something at the Medical Center, so we have a fallback position, Get the Police involved as much as they can be, and tell your people to go full lethal if they haven't figured it out already. I'll take care of the group running interference and try to direct any survivors towards you if I can. Work on getting some extra firepower on-site too: we are going to need all of it."

More aliens appeared around a corner, and were almost immediately blasted into chunky salsa by Green as he kept talking, the rifle he used having come from practically nowhere, and it's bright beam of destruction being even more fleeting. "I have my wife working her magic with the logistics, and she will be helping to fortify the medical center until we can get in some heavier support."

Eidolon finally manged to find his voice and cut in. "I've tried to call for backup, man. Everyone is getting hit, practically all at once!! There isn't anyone left to send help!!"

Green fully turned towards him, now. His face was…so very ordinary, for a black man. Large lips, Brown eyes, somewhat thick eyebrows, the semi-standard curly hair up top–all of it was so plain and simple, for a man that was anything but.

His expression, though…that he recognized. It was one that he had worn himself, during Endbringer battles. A visage of frustration and pain and anger at the world that would heap so much onto his shoulders, and then dare him to drop it all. It was also very much calculating, cunning…the look of a man who had a plan and was altering it for the situation.

The moment was brief. "Alright, change of plans. You are now on search and rescue, seeing as you can both fly and ignore the bastards shooting at you. We're still going to use the medical center as the rally point, but now your job is to find as many people as possible and get them there soonest, or delegate people to do so, afterwards, I'll need as much scrap as possible sent in the same direction. Doesn't matter what kind of scrap it is, as long as it's there. Even this shit here," He waved dismissively at the remains of the power suited alien, "will work. Once you have it, drop it with my wife. You'll recognize her by the fact that everything alien will be on fire."

The smirk at that statement was a sight to see.

"Once you have found her, give her the scrap and then watch the master work. She's going to get us some weapons going, and then we'll start getting volunteers to do sweeps to give us some breathing room. Hopefully by then I'll have a way to get rid of the top cover, or at least thin it out a bit, but we'll see." As if to punctuate his statement, another blast of energy fell from the sky onto a spot, a section of the wall of screams that was the city going silent at the impact.

It was not a good feeling, that cold pit called fury. But now was not the time to unleash it. Not yet.

Green turned back around suddenly and popped off a quick set of snapshots down a side street, catching another set of aliens as they were advancing. This group looked to be a bit stronger, and accompanied by what looked like a floating disc of some kind? Either way, it was dead and gone, and hopefully there were few of those left.

"Anyway" Green continued as if nothing had happened, "once we get that gone then the real heavies can get in and do work. But until then, we're stuck with this mess, so buckle up and get ready, 'cause it's gonna be a long ride."

The sounds of something crashing to the ground caught Eidolon's attention, and he quickly turned to see–was that Mouse Protector? What in the hell was she doing here!?!--depositing another mechanized corpse nearby.

It was Green who responded. "Oh, I also stole Mouse Protector for a bit. She'll be helping out. Try not to complain too much, please?"

Eidolon turned back towards the Knight of Mice, expecting to hear a witty comeback of some kind. Instead, he was met with stony silence.

Most notably, there was a distinct absence of anything even remotely looking like humor oh her face.

Another thing pushed into the "for later" pile. And as much as it may have hurt his pride, however slightly, to have Green throwing orders at him, he could definitely accept that at least he had a plan, unlike everyone else. Getting people onboard, however…

"You may have some trouble getting people onboard with your plan, Green. Did you think about that?"

In response, Green merely tapped a square patch on his vest–no, that was a proper combat rig if he ever saw one, if unadorned– which bore a symbol. It was with some shock that he recognized it as a rank patch, that of a Warrant Officer no less.

"I got that covered. As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm the cavalry showing up early." Green grinned. "Don't worry about that part, let's just get this shitstorm cleared out and contained enough so that we're not playing defense all the time, and then we can work from there."

There really wasn't anything else to say to that, really. Eidolon nodded his approval, and immediately set to helping the police clear out their wounded and get prepped to move. The Medical Center was going to be a long walk, after all…

-=[/\]=-​

Calling the current clusterfuck even that was such an understatement that people were struggling to find a new word for the phenomenon. For John Bradford, Central Officer of the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit, it was even worse…as dealing with said mega-clusterfuck was his responsibility. The fact that the entire planet was getting hit, to varying degrees, was just being unfair.

This, of course, had XCOM in a bit of a bind.

"Get Strike Teams to the most critical locations ASAP!! We need to get a handle on this before it gets out of hand! Move, people!!"

Unfortunately, he was already doing everything he could do at the moment, getting his people mobilized and on the move to the critical areas while they still could. Unfortunately, there were only so many strike teams to go around…and far, far too many flash points to deal with.

Once again, the thought that this was it went through his head, only to be crushed ruthlessly.

"Status Report." Nobody needed to be reminded of whose voice that was, the Commander clearly taking control of the situation even as she moved to the central dais of the Geoscape to monitor the counterattack efforts. Bradford quickly moved to comply.

"We have confirmed attacks all over the globe, Commander, with the majority of the pressure seeming to be focused on the US, with spillover in parts of Europe and Asia. Nothing being reported in South America and Africa yet, though how much of that is actual clear skies and not lack of info is up for debate."

The South American nations had never really been truly sold on the XCOM project, and were directly under siege from the various drug cartels and other criminal organizations vying for a seat of power even then. The lack of information coming out of the place was not as unusual as it seemed. Likewise, Africa was a mess simply due to the mass proliferation of the various parahuman warlords running around, Moord Nag the most well known among them, and the presence of the Ash Beast didn't help either. And while the nascent African Union was far more forthcoming with their information than their South American counterparts, they also had a lot more to deal with internally, and a lot less to work with in terms of communications technology. It wouldn't have surprised him if the Aliens had managed to make a precision strike on a comms juncture and silenced any calls for help.

They'd done it before, after all.

The Commander nodded. "And the skies?"

Bradford quickly checked a tablet for the relevant info. "Currently contested over the contiguous US, and light elsewhere. Ravens are already airborne and en route to intercept, but we don't have enough to respond to all the flashpoints."

It was a fact of life, really. The Raven Interceptor was a miracle of modern design and function, and was more than capable of facing off against the best the rest of the world had to offer at overwhelming odds and winning.

Against the aliens? They were barely getting by.

The good news on that front was that Dr. Shen had managed to get a hold of the schematics and data contained in "the gift box", as people called the technical packet that the Greens had showed up with. This had accelerated several programs meant to update the Ravens with better weapons and survivability, and had recently made several other breakthroughs possible as well.

The issue was that there were only a bare handful of these "enhanced" Ravens available, and all of them were stationed outside the US as conciliatory measures for the member nations. This meant that their best firepower was right where they didn't need it, and all the worse for the same.

Again, the Commander only nodded at the information, her face impassive. "Where have you deployed our strike teams?"

Bradford grimaced. This was going to be the hard part. "I have Strike Two and Five inbound to Paris right now, hopefully to clear up one of the minor attacks and get actual reinforcements freed up. Strike Three is headed for New Orleans to stop the push happening on the Mississippi, and Strike Six is moving towards Jakarta, with the possibility of diverting to Seoul or Tokyo if needed. Strike Four is still prepping, and should be ready on your order.

"And Strike One?"

"Awaiting your order, Commander."

And for good reason. Strike One was the premier combat team that XCOM had available, and currently were the only team equipped with the new Laser weapons and enhanced armor systems. Wherever they went needed to be strictly controlled for maximum effect…or for minimum loss of their elite personnel and gear.

It was a bitter reminder that XCOM could not solve every situation, no matter how much they wanted to do so.

Bradford watched as the Commander assumed her usual "thinking" pose, which had the strange effect of calling attention to the snake tattoo that was prominent on her neck and wound lower (though how much lower, he did not know).

"What do we know of the force compositions of the attack groups, Central?"

He checked the available notes, recently updated with first responder call-ins and some data from the local militaries where available. "Not much, aside from general size. So far, the larger attacks seem to be focused on specific areas, Ma'am. Most of New England is being hit pretty hard, with New York, Boston, and Chicago being major targets…though strangely enough, the focus point for the Aliens seems to be in Brockton Bay. We are unsure of why that is, though our local contacts think that it has to do with a recent arrival in the area, potentially a parahuman. They haven't sent in any new information, yet. We're assuming that they have gone to ground for the time being."

The Commander chuckled softly. "Of course they have. They're the smartest group in the area, and there haven't been any shootdowns of the Alien craft yet. We'll know when they start moving. The other hotspots?"

"Los Angeles is taking a beating at the moment, and has yet to call for assistance. Likewise, Seattle is getting hit with the overflow, though they are doing better with the lesser forces. As for the rest of the US? Attacks confirmed on Cheyenne, Colorado Springs, Albuquerque, San Antonio, and New Orleans, with varying levels of force application and response. Smaller raiding pockets have been reported as far north as Minot in the US, and we suspect that there is some movement in the Canadian hinterlands as well that will need to be investigated, but so far no reports of activity. Otherwise…the main thrust of the Alien's attack seems to be Houston. We're getting some transmissions from there now, and from the reports, they are getting hammered."

The Commander frowned minutely. "They're locking down responders."

Bradford's confusion was total. "Ma'am?"

"Look at the map. The main push in New England? Several major parahuman strongholds are there, including heavy-hitters like Legend and Dragon. I'm willing to bet it all that the New York push is meant to keep him occupied as long as possible. Likewise, the attack on LA is probably going after Alexandria…which leaves the main hot spot of Houston. Which has Eidolon…along with our current VIPs…"

Her eyes widened in realization. "They're after the Greens. That's why Houston is getting hit so hard. For whatever reason, they need them dead soonest, and we need to make sure that doesn't happen. Deploy Strike One to Houston immediately, and have them briefed en route. Notify me when they are on-site: I will be assuming tactical control. Until then, make any attempt possible to get into contact with either of the Greens or any military unit that can reach them and spread the word that they are priority targets–"

Her orders were interrupted by a tech shouting. "We have an incoming transmission in the clear!! It's coming from Houston, and asking for XCOM specifically!! They say that they think they are a main target as a delaying action, and are reporting that they will not be able to assist elsewhere until they can clear out the skies. How should I respond, sir?"

Bradford's grin of malice matched the Commander's own at the shared revelation that the Greens were not quite as helpless as they appeared. "Tell them help is on the way, and to clear a hole for our guys coming in if they can. The sooner we can break this, the sooner we can get to the rest of the planet."

-=[/\]=-​

Alright, I was officially pissed off, and to extremes.

Considering what was happening right now, and my initial reactions, Mio thought it was more than understandable.

I however, did not.

I had frozen up, those first few seconds, memories that both were and were not my own playing back in my head. Memories of the invasion of Earth by a completely different enemy, of the razing of the planet by creatures whose only purpose was the death and destruction of all organic life…

It was enough to root me in place at the realization that it was happening again.

At least, until Mouse Protector smacked some sense into me, in this case literally, pulling me out of the nightmare of memory and back into the nightmare of reality.

And then the problems started to mount up. I almost immediately realized that there was no way in hell to defend the entire city, no matter what we did or how. We simply didn't have the resources on-hand to do enough for it to matter in the short term, and assuming enough was left for a long term was a fool's errand. And as much as I was willing to try and group up with other responders for a unified push…even the bits I could see of the chaos told me an all too depressing tale.

Nobody was ready for this kind of engagement. All of the law enforcement agencies had been co-opted by the PRT in their efforts to curtail parahumans, the parahumans themselves were effectively running the asylum with their antics, and the Military, the one force actually geared to handle something like this, would take time to mobilize and deploy even without the massive funding cuts they had been forced to eat over the years as parahumans (and by extension the PRT) took center stage.

In short? Clusterfuck.

The fact that we'd managed to even scavenge up as much of a plan as we had in the short notice was a miracle in and of itself, and that was me relying on the fact that the Hospitals were explicitly hardened against the normal catastrophic weather events that come through every year like clockwork.

But it came at a cost.

And when you have enhanced empathic senses from being an insanely powerful psychic in several ways, that shit starts piling up on you.

I couldn't just hear the people dying around us, I could feel it happening in real time, feel every life that was snuffed out by these goddamn Xenos fucks as they rampaged as they damn well pleased, and only my training was letting me ignore it in favor of what needed to be done.

And I hated myself for having to leave them behind to die. I hated the fact that, despite my incredible power, I couldn't actually do jack shit to solve the problem until I had a way of keeping people safe and secure that wasn't going to create a bigger clusterfuck. I hated that the fucking B-lister capes with even a half-assed ranged attack were doing more to curtail the swarm of enemies and rescue the people being besieged.

But first and foremost, I was a soldier, and I knew that the mission came first…especially in a place and time like this.

Which, of course, meant altering the plan again. For the fifth time.

"So, do we have more of a plan besides 'pick the obvious high-value target and make it even more valuable before counterattacking' or is this it for the moment? Because, we've been cycling then for a bit now."

Marcy was well within her rights to snark.

"Unless you have a better idea, this is what we have, and is something we'd need to do anyways because Hospital. Besides, if my guess is right, the Ayys will be focusing more on myself and Eidolon than anything else. And in case they don't, Mio will be there, and better armed than I am at the moment to boot. Just focus on getting as many people as you can to the place, so we can take stock…and see if you can find some more large-capacity vehicles we can use to move people around, 'cause this shit here isn't going to cut it for much longer."

'This shit here' was a 'minor' modification to a stubby school bus that we'd managed to salvage, alongside some tactically acquired vehicles that our group was currently using as transportation for the civilians caught in the line of fire. The school bus in particular Mio had taken to with a vengeance, turning it into the next best thing to a hovertank complete with pintle-mounted weapons, using some quickly-built Volley Lasguns and an even shoddier repulsor cannon (for using equally improvised ammo) as the "main" weapon. The other vehicles we'd managed to find in good enough condition to use and armor up were mounting varied weaponry, ranging from lasguns to a Ma Deuce that someone had managed to find, and then Mio had converted into an energy weapon. (I didn't ask, and she didn't tell.)

The "crew' such as it was, was a mixed lot, mostly terran refugees that had somehow figured out I was inside (probably smell) and quickly volunteered their services, along with a mix of locals who felt the need to get involved now, preferably with a group that could actually make a difference. It was somewhat of a tight fit, and I ended up with the same cute Teenage Oni from earlier doing a combination of flirting and running shotgun as I drove, with her old man riding on one of the side turrets.

Unfortunately, we only had a bare handful of vehicles, and the instant we got them up and running even more opposition started coming our way, more of the giant fuckers with the plasma rifles, the little skittering bastards that liked to try and mindjack people, and even a new addition in the form of the skinny fuckers that tried to blend in with other people and screw with shit.

And I had the feeling that I had seen these damned things before…

Marcy, true to herself as always, merely shrugged and returned to her chosen assignment of manning one of the Hellgun turrets (she'd snatched it up as soon as she saw it was available and would be near me), and blasting the fucking freaky-ass disk things out of the air as they tried to get in close enough to screw with the vehicles. The Cyberdiscs (are those what they are called?) immediately moved to evade, only to get caught in the crossfire from the other Hellgun mount that Marcy was controlling. From within the Bus, via a monitor and data link.

Because abusing Newtype perception and awareness for shots is always amusing.

For my part, I was busy driving the damn bus in an attempt to get us to the hospitals, or at least get somewhere close enough that we could try to make it on foot.

Naturally we were contested at all times, and not even the presence of Eidolon on overwatch in the skies was enough to deter the oncoming tide of attackers, this time including more of the big fuckers and their Mechtoid pals–

"INCOMING FROM THE REAR!! BRACE!!"

The plasma shot was practically perfection incarnate, exquisitely timed and just as well aimed, designed to ensure that our impromptu hovertank ended up grounded and stranded dead in the middle of enemy territory. Even with the small amount of warning that I had been given, I could tell that the shot had been meticulously planned to ensure maximum effect regardless of outcome.

And I completely threw a middle finger at the entire mess by dodging at the absolute last possible second and by the barest of margins, just to make a point. The shot instead found itself connecting rather solidly with another of the brutish Mutons that had decided to try and distract people from the real threat. The poor recipient of the very unfriendly fire instead ended up with a hole in its torso and sprawled on the ground.

The immediate follow-up shot fared even worse, as I used that one as an excuse to kite the Mechtoids into an improvised explosive trap, courtesy of our boys in blue in the half-assed technical in the back with the upgraded M-2.

Our mystery sniper wannabe took the hint and tried to target the trucks next, only for Eidolon to swoop in from the skies and with the fury of a thousand suns as he smote the entire goddamn building that the fucker was using as cover.

Excessive, but it worked.

"How much further until we get there?" Mio's agitation with the situation was growing, and had to be severe already if she was speaking instead of just yanking the answer out of my head.

"Five minutes, assuming that we don't hit a major roadblock. If we do? Seven minutes."

Marcy turned away from blasting at another Cyberdisc pair (and I was ignoring how I knew that for now) to stare at me in shock…until she figured out what I was actually saying and then retracted her intended exclamation before she could make it.

Which was sad, because we could have used the levity right about now. Most of the group was wearing thin on the morale front, particularly one of the cops, who was rapidly developing the kind of sensitivity and perception that was a defining characteristic of Newtypes. Hell, one of the survivors that we'd picked up had even triggered for fuck's sake, and had to be forcibly restrained lest she run headfirst into the nightmare alone. Mio and I weren't doing much better, having a far more powerful empathic sense than even the Mouse, who was becoming ever more blatant in her attempts to keep us steady as things spiraled downwards faster and faster. It was really one of the only things keeping me from tearing off and reaping the battlefield on my own, instead of sticking to the (admittedly bare-bones) plan and getting actual benefit out of my inevitable roaring rampage of revenge.

As I'd expected, the Aliens were actively trying to enforce Murphy, as the blockade of the main roads was more than completed…and the fuckers were deliberately using the bodies of the slain to do so, just to rub the point in. That had to be an intimidation tactic of some kind or another.

Too bad all it did was piss everyone off even more, at which Mio immediately aimed our main gun at the interlopers and fired.

The repulsor cannon that she had rigged up was an interesting piece of technology: it basically used the counter-gravity field technology alongside the repulsor tech that came with, to create a type of cannon that could, in theory, use just about anything as a piece of ammunition, with the only real limitation being if it could fit inside the barrel. On the surface, it should have failed utterly even before she tried firing it, let alone with its payload of crumbled and reformed reinforced concrete blocks, complete with the rebar still in the block, but against all odds it worked.

And better than expected, no less, as the projectile was lobbed at speeds that were absolutely boggling for a non-engineered projectile of that size to be moving at. The impact was even more spectacular, as the freaky mecha that were trying to camp the wall of bodies took the worst hits, followed by their thin men counterparts that were slithering in from the sides…

…and I was going to have to take a very close look at my memories again, when I got the chance, because I had the strangest feeling that there was something important that I was missing in the semi-random threat info I was getting flashes of. Something that needed to be addressed as quickly as possible lest it come back to bite us in the ass…

Eidolon had returned from his side mission by this point. "Alright, we're almost to Memorial Hermann. Once we get people there, I am going to head out towards Hobby and see about getting the airports secure so we can get some reinforcements inbound–"

"Save it for after we get rid of the top cover, Eidolon!" I snapped back. "As long as those fucking ships stay clogging up the skies, we ain't getting so much as a care package in here, and I somehow doubt that you have the ability to take one down on your own without compromising something, so chill. We'll be able to take the fight to the enemy soon enough, alright?" My statement was punctuated with yet another perfectly timed strike from high altitude, almost as if whoever was doing that was intentionally waiting for the exact right moment to do so.

Eidolon stared at me with an unreadable look beneath his neon cowl, but eventually acquiesced. "Fair. We need to work together to put an end to this, regardless. No need to have everyone rushing off on their own."

…and he actually meant that, too. I could feel it plain as day. Judging from Marcy' surprise, she wasn't expecting this either. Some kind of insider info on the big man?

No matter. Eidolon was proving–no, had proven–himself to be a good man driven by a cause far too many times even on this trip alone, and I wasn't about to toss that away just because I was looking for the barb. I'd actually been rather unfair to the man this whole time, simply because I couldn't stand his little buddy Alexandria…but seeing firsthand how much this was affecting him, I couldn't hold onto that suspicious edge. No matter which way I sliced it, it was clear that Eidolon was a good man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and nobody else with which to share the strain.

'Well, here's to that little annoyance of yours coming to an end, Eidolon. Soon.'

Moving the bodies, as disrespectful as it was, was an easy task making liberal use of the fact that I could use telekinesis, and didn't have to actually leave our battle bus to actually clear things out. This led to an unsurprising bum rush from the invasion forces by yet another new type of alien, this one seeming to be a humanoid-looking thing floating in the air on some kind of…okay, what?

This...Floater…was missing the entire lower half of its body for this shit, and apparently can use micromissiles (some kind of weapons pod thing, from the looks of it). Even worse, they seemed to be a much larger sponge for punishment than expected, which was always worrying, but Marcy and the others still managed to shoot it down, though it was a close call.

And, of course, because there was no such thing as a goddamn break around here, another eight of the fuckers popped up over the barricade practically like clockwork, plasma rifles blazing even as they moved to cut off our advance.

The ensuing firefight was downright brutal in its intensity, as we threw everything we had against the fuckers while pushing forward as hard as possible. The floaty bastards repaid the favor by acting as flying beacons to draw in more enemy forces to stymie our advance, what looked like entire squads of hulking Mutons and their various support troops pouring on the firepower even as they moved to establish hardier blockades.

Had this been anyone else, pretty much anywhere else, there would be nothing but smoking ruins left after the fury of the onslaught that was being directed at us.

Unfortunately for them, I was here, and was officially past my breaking point of giving a fuck, even with poor MP trying to keep me stable. My Force-backed will stretched out over the battlefield, grabbing hold of every last Xenos abomination on the field and crushing them in an iron telekinetic grip, while also setting them on fire with a pulse of magic.

We drove by unmolested after the last of the bodies fell.

'Oh. Sorry about that. I thought you were less mad than I was.'

Mio, in an attempt to not go off herself, had filtered her own rage through me, which was why I'd had that little snap moment just now….not that it wasn't coming anyway, but her trying to ground herself out accelerated the process.

'No need to apologize. I was going to do it anyway…well, without the fire. That's your thing more than mine. Grab the gear that's leftover, would you?'

Mio nodded her approval and started grabbing the remains of the enemy tech for repurposing…which had a lot more scorch marks than should have been possible…

Marcy coughed, weakly. "Err…was the lightning actually necessary in all that, foxy?"

I blinked, then looked back over the event. Apparently the Force approved of my taking out the trash, and decided to throw in a lightning crush for free since I was already making a statement.

I shrugged and moved on.

-=[/\]=-​

The Medical Center was in utter chaos. There were panicking civilians everywhere, lots of Aliens making the matter worse, and a not inconsiderable deployment of the various police agencies that a major city like Houston could bring to bear.

Unfortunately, the police were losing, and badly. The few Terran refugees that had decided to fight were doing somewhat better, but from even a casual glance, that was more due to originium arts being an outside context problem than anything related to actual effectiveness on their part, especially as the volunteers were being pulled from the recently recovered that were still getting used to the little thing called not having oripathy. Y'know, little things.

Thus, the arrival of the Battle Bus drew a lot of attention, from all sides…and a round of cheers when we started lighting up the filthy Xenos with las.

'Mio, Bleedover!!'

'Oops. reeling it in…'

Still, the aliens were not just taking it lying down, focusing fire on the already heavily damaged bus in an attempt to pin it down…and doing a damn good job, as I could already feel the controls becoming slippery as the firepower took its toll.

Of course, being the focal point for enemy firepower allows for a bunch of good things…like letting the technicals zoom around and wreck shop with a vengeance.

The best part is that all of this left Eidolon completely unremarked upon as he zoomed about, taking down entire groups of xenos with a precision and fury that had been absent during our travel, now that we had arrived. Probably swapped out a power or something, and I sure as hell wasn't going to complain about having more firepower.

Still, just because things were looking up didn't mean that they were good. The fact that the area was getting hit so hard likely meant that the Xenos had the same idea I did, and were moving to cut off the potential rally point, something which could not be allowed under any circumstances.

And then there was the fact that the aerial bombardments had stopped for some reason, which was not good considering that the fuckers have had uncontested superiority in that sector since the battle started. If they weren't firing, then it was because they were doing something else.

Meaning yet another time limit. Joy.

The Battle Bus shuddered as the countegrav finally gave out, forcing us to ground dead center of the Fannin/Canbirdge intersection. Not bad, but I would have preferred getting further into the med center proper…still, can't argue with results, as we were close enough to Hermann to get set up. Besides, it let me do silly things.

"Attention passengers! The Bus has reached its last stop, and all occupants must exit the vehicle immediately. Please remember to grab a lasgun on the way out, and thank you for riding Battle Bus limited!! LET'S GIVE 'EM HELL!!!"

The raucous cheer from the "crew" of the bus was heartening to my poor abused empathic senses, and helped me re-center myself just a tad bit more. Soon…soon…

Our survivors and volunteers piled out with gusto, immediately opening fire on the opposition with a now practiced ease and equal fervor. The Oni duo in particular were unusually fearless in their advance, practically mowing down a group of Mutons that tried to close in, with the father of the pair even outright snapping one's neck with raw strength alone.

Unfortunately, this did him no favors as the other xenos simply focused fire on the now vulnerable guy, and it took Eidolon swooping in to absorb the incoming fire to get him clear.

Which sucked. I was hoping for at least a demoralization effect on seeing their big guys get manhandled by the old dude like that…

Of course, the rest of us were not idle in the least. Mio had taken to the skies, much to the surprise of many, fully expressing her frame for the first time since we'd hit the planet and going into full combat swing. It was as devastating as I'd expected it to be, and most of the main firepower was rightfully being directed at her, to no avail: her Impeller was entirely too powerful for even the xenos' plasma weapons to significantly affect, and she more or less had free rein.

Marcy, now back in her proper role as Mouse Protector once more, was darting all over the place and putting her newfound newtype awareness and psychokinetic ability to the test, with terrifying results. Most enemy groups could barely get a lock on her with how she was abusing her parahuman power, tagging bits of debris and flinging them at and around places via telekinesis only to jump to it at the last second and then lay even more markers from which to move to and attack from.

And this time she was not restricting herself to merely Sword and Board, instead carrying one of the automatic Lasguns (we really needed to settle on a name for those) and explosives to rain death and destruction upon her foes. The poor bastards couldn't adapt fast enough to do a real counter, which was a shame, as all that did was let her yoink several intact plasma rifles for Mio to distractedly rebuild and repurpose for others.

Hell, even the damn cops were going all in now, having taken the opportunity to push forwarded from their harried barricades and advance on the enemy, a noted departure from standard cop tactics.

As for myself? I was setting up the battle bus as a stationary turret, putting all of the weapons on automatic before bailing out myself. The Bus immediately started going nuts on the bits of the battlefield that weren't already getting mauled by someone or something else, drawing yet more fire.

And yet the enemy kept coming, an unceasing tide of alien flesh and metal and plasma blasts that refused to stop and refused to quit.

How very unfortunate that I wasn't distracted anymore…and that nobody was paying attention.

Force Missile is normally a 4th-level spell, a kind of bigger brother to the venerable Magic Missile spell that all D&D players know and love, except stronger and with splash damage. I, being the filthy munchkin that I was, I decided to alter it for my own purposes. And unlike a normal D&D player, I was not bound by tabletop balance, meaning that I could go full hog.

It took a moment for me to spin it up. Scanning for targets, even in this environment, was the hardest part, and took by far the most time, but I had long since worked out a sort of active sensor pulse that used me as the origin point that was useful for this kind of thing. The targeting calculations were somewhat tricky too, especially as I needed to account for not blowing up the cover around us, but I got them working within a few seconds. Payload was far easier, a mix of incendiary, acidic, and pure concussive force that hopefully should do enough to clear out the masses the way we needed.

The last part was just sheer, bloody numbers.

It was Eidolon who noticed it first, the rapidly expanding ball of flickering lights that was the focal point of my spell, and he actually stopped to watch in awe as it expanded further, the lights within growing in number at an exponential rate. He was soon joined by the onlookers behind the barricades, a few straggling survivors, and eventually even the combatants themselves, both human and xeno alike.

Didn't take long for one of them to get a brain blast and look for (and find) the source, but by then it was already far too late.

I took the time to climb atop the battle bus and look over the battlefield for effect, which got more guns pointed at me…but not firing. Almost as if the damned Ayys were afraid…

Well, better give them something to be afraid of, then. And no better way than to use that tried and true method…

"And for my first trick…Force Missile, Intensified, Twinned, Repeated…oh, and overclocked too."

The almighty power of an Evoker on the warpath. Because battlemages are always fun…for allies.

Enemies? Not so much.

The actual release of the spell itself looked more like a series of exquisite fireworks, or falling stars…at least, at first. Then those same fireworks became streaks of light that, just for the hell of it, I had pulling an Itano Circus routine as they closed in on their assigned targets. For their part, the Ayys did try to actually dodge and/or take cover, but I'd chosen this particular setup precisely for the ability to ignore such paltry concerns.

I watched as one of the Mechotids, seeing its impending demise coming for it, tried to get a shot off at me before the end, only to fall victim to the vastly overcharged and ridiculously overpowered magic impacting and delivering its lethal payload. The blast wave alone was enough to launch the machine into the air from sheer force alone, and then the caustic flames got to work, eating away at everything on the machine as quickly as possible.

All that hit the ground at the end was a charred wreck that used to be a cybernetic fusion of alien flesh and unknown technology…and that was one of the ones that got off easy.

Others were coated in corrosive flames and literally melted alive, desperately scrambling for something, anything to get the damned fire off of them. A few of the thin men tried to pull a "Stop, drop and roll" maneuver, only to receive a large amount of Las for the trouble. The floaters and Cyberdiscs in the group were literally blasted out of the sky like so much refuse, the 'discs being all but vaporized through sheer main force alone. The smaller insect bastards only had smears left where they used to be standing.

And those big, hulking Mutons that were the main force for the aliens?

Gore. Gore and Blood and Gore everywhere. Chests blown through, arms and legs blasted away from the main body, entire aliens blown in half and struggling to survive only to bet hit by another missile and perish, corpses with their heads blown off, all of them were there, and more fell by the second as the onslaught continued. The screams and wails (and to a select few, the faint emotions of the dying xenos) filled the air, and unlike the prior screams of dying people I paid these no mind. It was only fitting that they be dealt the same hand that they had tried to play onto those who could not defend themselves, after all.

I felt the wave of emotion hit me before I actually heard the cheering start, a ragged cry being joined by the voices of others as the beleaguered defenders rallied at the sight of such power. Even as the spell ended, and yet more xenos filth pushed in at speed, the defenders stood more energized than ever and ready to defend their homes.

And then Eidolon stepped up to the plate and reminded them that he was here too.

With a wordless gesture, he merely pointed…and we all watched as all of the plasma, every joule of energy that had been directed at him for the last who knows how long now was focused back onto the aliens that had been dealing it out, and to even more devastating results than my own storm of magic. Errant pulses of energy blew craters into the road and sidewalks as more aliens died under his hand, charring and scorching from the sheer heat generated from the blasts leaving their marks and actually starting a few small fires in the grass….fires that were quickly smothered with alien blood and guts.

The end results spoke for themselves, and the cheering rose to an even higher pitch.

Eidolon chose that moment to catch my eye, a strange, challenging look hidden there. I merely give him a nod and two-fingered salute, a smile adorning my face for the first time in what felt like hours. We held gazes for a brief moment, before he relaxed and nodded back, gaining a smile of his own in the process.

Indeed, Eidolon was a good man, despite the weight placed on his shoulders.

I took the moment to survey the battlefield: mostly cleared, with a few stragglers moving about trying to avoid the main killing field as often as possible. I didn't blame them one bit, after that display. The other roads were looking good too, but still needed to be reinforced as soon as possible. The barricades were shoddy, but could be beefed up given time…and we had a nice, large Hospital Roof to work with for other things.

Alrighty then, time to set up.

"Mio! You're good to go!!" Get some heavy emplacements up to deal with some of this extra shit here, would you?"

Mio wordless shout was all the assent I needed, and I started moving. She could handle the hospital from here, and it was now time for the second stage of my impromptu plan: getting the immediate surroundings secured and locating any survivors to bring back to the new safe point. From there, depending on how the situation developed, I would either be pushing for clearing the skies or opening a sea lane thought the Port for reinforcements to get through. My first choice was to clear out the air, but that depended on my ability to actually do damage to the ships themselves, and the consequences of a shoot-down. Past that…well, the current plan was "pray for reinforcements" but if that failed then Mio and I would have to whip something up to work with. By then, I would probably have more than thirty seconds of time to work, which would be invaluable in getting the bigger stuff we would need online.

More screaming caught my attention, and I rushed to the source, ready to intervene…but what I saw made my blood run cold.

It was a weird, insectile creature, even more so than the big-headed small fucks running around mindjacking everything in sight, with six(?) legs and a vaguely humanoid torso with arms and yet more claws in place of hands. It was currently pulling its front legs, clearly designed as a kind of bladed weapon, out of its victim.

That wasn't the problem.

The victim was a Bet native, an older woman who was clearly doing her part (the multiple clocked out pistols surrounding her, along with the shotgun, told as much) before getting ganked by this thing, her face even in death a mask of fury and defiance.

That wasn't the problem, either.

No, the problem was that both of them were surrounded by what I could only describe as fucking zombies, each one moving in the classic shambling walk towards a group of even more potential victims. And as they shambled along, one of the zombies vomited for a moment, before suddenly bursting apart as another of those things tore its way out of the zombie's chest, clearly fully developed and ready to kill.

A quick glance around told the tale: there were tons of newly-hatched insect things around, clearly notable by the white carapace as compared to the darker ones of their elders…and the fuckers were skittering, fast as all hell, towards the nearest concentration of more live bodies to infest and grow in.

Yeah, no. I was not letting a fucking Chryssalid outbreak happen in MY GODDAMNED CITY.

I would deal with the confirmation of this shit being fresh out of an XCOM game later.

The first Chryssalid I'd noticed turned towards me, clearly having become aware of my presence…only to fall apart in no less than eight pieces as my attack finally took.

Because those things might be fast, but I am a fucking NINJA.

The rest of the group turned towards me, having somehow known of their comrade's fall.

They died just as quickly.

-=[/\]=-​

"DIE YOU STUPID INSECT THINGS!!"

The wet squelch of her improvised club tearing into the soft flesh of the damned spider monster things was a relief to Anya, having just pried herself from the trap that should have been obvious to her after so long as an Operator. The fact that there was supposed to be chitin in the way of said flesh was ignored, as was the current state of her improvised implement, which was only holding together through the application of a rather nifty art effect that she had picked up some years back.

The gore staining her clothes, hair, and tail were only a minor annoyance. The sudden death of yet another insectile creature as it tried to close in on her was completely unrelated. As were the bodies of its brood mates, all thirty of them.

"You fucking bastards. Do you have any idea how long it takes to properly clean blood out of my tail? Do you, you stupid bugs!?!"

Completely unrelated at all.

The rustling of more claw-feet caught her attention, and she turned to face the threat…only to sigh in annoyance.

"Marcos, please do not play with the bugs. Mommy needs to kill them so they don't hurt people, alright?"

Her son's groan of disappointment echoed in the small alley that they were in, and the dying screech of another bug followed soon after.

And to think people looked at her oddly for teaching her son how to fight so young. Not so funny now, was it, you old codgers?

A sigh escaped her at the thought. This attack was bringing back old memories, ones that she really would rather not be facing at the moment. Her time on the roads of Terra, moving from place to place in a desperate attempt to flee those who sought her head for trying to live with the dread disease…it was a harsh life, but even then there were good times attached to it.

Times that were now somewhat marred by the fact that she had to kill poor Mr Fawkes, the old owl having been turned into a zombie by those damned bugs almost as soon as things started getting rough. She made sure to take care of him herself, so that Marcos didn't have to see the kindly old man that he loved so much dead and mutilated by these things.

Even so, getting away from the other aliens types was only mildly more difficult. Energy weapons were tough to dodge, sure, but she was always faster than most, and could take a hit or two even without a proper shield to focus her defensive arts into. Marcos was even worse for them, her son all but a blur to the bastards as they tried in vain to even hit him, let alone kill him.

It helped that they both had quickly adapted to the strange new awareness of their environment that they shared, yet another of Satori's gifts it seemed. Said gift had been invaluable in threading the needle through the madhouse and getting to where they were now, near the hospitals that they had once been held inside. Common knowledge held that Hospitals were usually the first places to receive heavy defense, or at least evacuation, so it was highly likely that she could find some support nearby if she looked hard enough.

The sounds of even more chittering caught her ears, and she noticed Marcos' own twitch as well. The things never seemed to stop, and she was wondering just where the hell they were getting all the bodies from to make so many more…

Then the wave hit, and it was worse than even her worst fears. There were at least fifty of the fuckers, all of them speeding directly towards her and her precious son. And while she was good, damned good in fact…that was simply too many for her to take on, even if she'd had proper equipment. There was no point in trying to send Marcos away: she'd seen those things leap incredible heights in pursuing potential victims, and her Marcos was not strong enough to outrun them in this environment.

But she would be damned if she ever allowed those things to lay so much as a single scratch on her son without her being dead first. It simply would not happen. So she set herself, knowing surely that this would be the moment of her death, and prepared for it.

And then the entire group was simply flattened by a wave of force she could feel, the sheer disgust and hate echoing off of it all but palpable.

And, because fate hadn't made it clear enough what she was supposed to be doing, none another than Satori Green himself walked around the corner to check up on who he'd just saved. As if she'd needed the reminder that she was going to be bearing his children.

The wave of emotion she felt from him made it very clear that he'd understood that the hole he was in had only gotten deeper, and she smirked in vicious amusement.

Always was nice when the men knew they were being hunted…

Satori walked forwards without a care. "Anya, Marcos, hey. See you two are doing well…for the most part, anyway." He gave a cursory glance to the alleyway and then to her weapon, before shrugging.

"Well, we managed. Even with this rickety old thing, it was still workable, and I'd trained my boy to take care of himself properly, so we were fine." She deliberately moved as close as possible just to make it clear that his attempts at deflecting away from his ever-growing reward were noticed…and ignored. "Still, it would be nice if we could have an escort from a big, strong man like you. What'cha think: care for a few tagalongs?"

The flat look she got in return was worth it, in her opinion. "Says the woman sitting on the cracked carapaces of over thirty Chryssalids…all of them killed by blunt force, no less. Sure, you need an escort. How about I just make you a better weapon instead, hmm?"

Anya blinked. "Wait, you can do that?"

But Satori was already moving, lifting up the bugs (chryssalids, he called them?) via a telekinesis art of some kind, and quickly stripping them of their bone, carapaces, and claws in short order, and then immediately moving to work them into something usable through some even more esoteric arts she didn't quite understand.

But the speed. Dear gods, the sheer speed he was moving at!!

"Based on the patterns I see, and your stance, I take it you are used to having a Shield of some kind normally, right? I think I can work with that. Now, as for weapons, you want a slasher, a piercer, or a club type? Any preferences on length? Need a secondary? What about ranged options?"

And he still had enough focus left to talk? How the…

"Nevermind, got it. Gimme a moment to do a thing with these chitin pieces, would ya?"

And Anya watched, stunned, as this man created a masterpiece of a weapon from the bodies of a completely unknown and unseen enemy, complete to specifications that he had never been told, to fit a person he barely knew…in less than two minutes.

It was unreal. Insane. Completely the subject of myth and fabrication and whimsy. And yet...there they were, being handed the finest in weaponry by a man who seemed to barely put any effort into the process at all except to make sure that it worked right for her hand.

And what a weapon at that!! The resulting swordspear was a grand thing, despite it's origins, with a clearly inlaid blade of treated and sharpened chitin slotted into a perfect frame that was both deceptively light and incredibly strong at the same time. The shaft being collapsible into a standard hand-and-a-half setup was even better, as now she had that rare gift called options when dealing with things.

The accompanying shield (the work of merely a minute this time) was even more a masterpiece, a solid heater design with reinforced backing (somehow, and she had no clue how he'd pulled it off so fast) that made it even more protective.

The fact that both weapon and shield were fully receptive, even inviting, to her arts was just icing on the cake of goodness. All she needed now was a decent set of tactical armor, and she would be fully geared up again!

Her Marcos wasn't left out, either, having gotten twin shortswords (sized for adults, mind, which were larger in his hands) instead of his mama's swordspear and shield, and all at the same quality, too!

"See mama? Told you he would help." Because of course her Marcos had, with all the surety of a child, stated the obvious long since.

The one time she ignores her son pulling his "obvious advice" routine…

"Sorry for it being rough on the edges. I didn't have time to put in all of the really good stuff for a weapon of that type, but it should at least make it easier to deal with the bullshit going on around here." Satori quipped, charging a shining blue orb of energy in his palm. "With any luck you shouldn't need to use them too much, but with the damned Chryssalids running about I doubt that." His aggravated statement was punctuated by him tossing the orb of energy almost negligently at the mouth of the alley, where it found the head of another of the Chryssalids trying to rush in around the blind corner, along with several of its friends.

"That being said, We are setting things up at the Hospital as a refuge point and rally position. Head that way, and you should find safety…but do it quick so you don't get caught in the swarming that is going on, okay?"

Anya couldn't find the words to respond, due to her throat being tightened with conflicting emotions, so she just nodded. Marcos managed to reply with a cheerful "yep!" in her stead, so it worked out.

And then Satori left them, safer and significantly better armed, to fight their way to the hospital on their own, practically blurring even to her own senses. She heard the sounds of another pack of alien creatures dying horribly echo from somewhere, so it was safe to assume that he was at least doing something about the problem.

Still, she appreciated the silent vote of confidence that was letting them make the run solo. "Alright honey, time to move. Stay close to me and watch your angles; we don't want to get snuck up on by the bugs!!"

"Yeah! Let's go Mama!!"

-=[/\]=-​

Mio found herself in an interesting situation.

Her assignment in the ad-hoc plan that they had come up with was to fortify the hospital, turn it into a safe point, and use the resulting place as a weapons distribution center for those who wanted to take the fight to the enemy. It was a rough proposition…on paper. The amount of area she had to cover, combined with the multi-spectrum threat environment and the distinct lack of helping hands, made things all the more challenging. The Hospital complex being roughly L-shaped and, again, its sheer size was a further complication.

Of course, that was on paper.

In reality? She could have the place set up as a fucking fortress within ten minutes, tops…and that was if she did it the slow way.

The beginning part was obvious for all of this: turrets, turrets, and more turrets, all automated and slaved to Minerva's control systems so she could designate targets. Set them up in a four, sometimes five-piece configuration with spreads designed to maximize firing angles and coverage while minimizing vulnerability, and add in some shielding while she was at it, too. Sure, the stuff she had available was strictly off-the-shelf, but it would work for long enough to do what it needed to do.

But what kind of guns to put in the nests? Solid shell? Pure las? Pulsed plasma? And what about the distribution mix? Did she want pure ground, anti-air, or a mix of both?

Fortunately, this was an easy decision to make and fix later if need be. Just set down some Volley Las in certain locations, make sure the power supply was hardened enough, and add in a rapid-fire plasma pulse gun as a form of Anti-air and long range.

Wait!! Use some of the drone technology that they were sitting on, and have the firebases also be drone nests!! That would help to expand the safe zones.

As for the hospital itself…full structural reinforcement, major shield generator of her own personal design (which she was working out even now in a series of separate multitasking instances) and all the AAA that she could fit onto the roof, just to make it clear that the filthy xenos were not allowed near. Then, once defense was established to her satisfaction, start running through the place and upgrading the entire complex. Nothing spared, no exceptions.

And then she could start handing out the newer and even more improved Hellguns that she had designed to the people. The major changes to the setup against the "standard" pattern of Hellgun would mostly be power draw efficiency, Rapid fire and fire select, ergonomics and utilities, strength of the frame and lug Bayonet, that kind of thing. She'd also made and prepped another set of ultra-high cap power packs that were good for well over 300 shots at max power draw, which if anyone needed meant they had bigger concerns.

Still, all of her grandiose plans had the minor issue of being dead smack in the middle of an enemy operation where the objective was to kill as many people as possible as quickly as possible, it seemed. Though Minerva had been chirping about wanting to examine the odd pods that were now landing in certain areas and…abducting people?

A thought occurred to her. Couldn't the people here make use of a nice, long-range fire support weapon to help others out? Say, a Sufficiently powerful linear accelerator of some kind, and enough ammo to allow them to reach out and touch someone in the best way possible.

Even better: a way to deliver mobile turrets to distant locations to start locking down portions of the city!! Use a grav launcher as a firing platform, and let the enemy think it was an artillery strike, only to have the real horror kick in afterwards when their position is getting torn to bits by the new turret(s) in their midst. (yes, plural, because only idiots launched these things one at a time.)

Only thing they'd be missing was spotters, but even that could be accounted for by using drones or something. Probably should add them in, anyway, just to be safe.

The beginning of the build-up was the hardest part. Somehow the filthy xenos figured out what she was up to and tried to stop her, or at least distract her enough to prevent them coming online. Too bad for them, Minerva was basically invincible to their attacks, and she was more than capable of extending her Impeller over a wide enough area to cover other potential targets of opportunity without compromising the actual strength thereof.

And so, the first of the defensive firebases came online with little fuss (and a modification for manual usage, just in case) and immediately started throwing hatred at the…you know what? No. She'd met proper Xenos who weren't filth-ridden and degenerate in her time, and these things were not worthy of the title. From now on, she would be using a different term, one more familiar to those of her friends and squadmates back when she was a grunt.

"Be now and forevermore dubbed "Ayys", dumb fucks.", she whispered softly.

And then immediately shook her head to clear the confusion. Those thoughts, those memories, had come from practically nowhere and hit her right when she least expected them, slipping past her defenses and processes for integrating them in a proper manner.

'Was this what you felt when you started getting bleedover from your other selves, beloved?' Because if so, she owed her Satori an apology for having mocked him for it, however slightly, even if only in her head.

The second defensive position was formed with little fanfare, and slowly people started to take notice that Aliens that ran down those streets died, and died in job lots. The rush to safety had began in earnest, and she wasn't even fully ready for it yet!!

Better hurry then.

The third was completed in record time, thanks to a bit of in-storage construction speeding things along and just needing her to deploy the pieces in place. Three of her five corners now covered, she kicked on the speed, moving fast enough that one of the odd Berserker Mutons was bowled over before getting riddled with las. The fourth firebase went down even faster, almost immediately opening fire on an attempted rally by the enemy forces to prevent just that, this time with more of the weird bug-type aliens that had been popping up lately. Minerva was pulling a blank on how and why there were so many of them, but the bits she was getting from Satori told her they were definitely not good and needed to be removed as soon as possible and with extreme prejudice.

It was the fifth where things got interesting. The Ayys, seemingly sensing her intentions, made a full play for the final point, and were adding in more wrinkles in the form of even more new types of opposition to deal with. The Floater things were out in force and harassing everything they could get sightline to, while the Mutons and their berserk counterparts were flat-out rushing the area and trying to lay down as much fire as possible on as many people as possible. There was even a weird type of walker vehicle involved, too, which was adding to the push, and Minerva quickly identified several more being deployed to her location.

All of that would have been at best an annoyance for Mio alone, but the interesting part was that what was left of the local parahumans in the area had finally made their push, and were attempting to hold the position themselves. And, she had to admit, they were doing a pretty good job of it all things told, though most of that seemed to be Grey Knight tapping into even more of his latent potential and acting as a bulwark for the rest.

Well, trying to, anyway, as she winced at one of the parahumans (some woman with a two-tone bodysuit and domino mask) get her head blown off by a stray plasma bolt. Still, it was a good defense for what was otherwise a hopeless situation, and she quickly added her own firepower to the equation, focusing on the heaviest targets. The Floaters tried to harry her, but even with them actively attempting to body check her in midair, it was trivial to avoid their attacks.

The walkers never stood a chance, and Mio felt zero sympathy for their crews.

Actually setting up the fifth emplacement was significantly more annoying, as the alien bastards started focusing their fire on her specifically, and the damned ships above finally decided that they had waited long enough and joined in with them. Sure, her impeller could handle the strain, as significant as it was, but the fact that so much firepower was being dropped almost directly on top of her meant that actually getting anything done in the first place was impossible, as annoying factors like area of effect kicked in and rendered her attempts at building up defenses into shattered wrecks. And she could only spread her Impeller field so far, dammit!!

It took layering no less than four sets of the shielding units that she was using to anchor the setup to hold off the onslaught for long enough to get defenses down, and after that the ground forces started getting reaped at a far more acceptable rate. She added in a few missiles of her own before moving on to the Hospital roof, still tanking the oncoming fire from above.

Which did not help with her already severe annoyance. Which caused her to grumble.

Loudly.

"Okay, so the bastards seem to know that I'm building up and are willing to slag the entire district just to deny it to me, and I can't disengage without leaving the Hospital open no matter how much I want to shoot the damned things out of the sky. So now what?"

Explosions up above caught her attention, Minerva having picked up the thermal bloom even through the interference that was being laid down, and Mio quickly backtraced the source to what looked like an advanced aerospace fighter of some kind engaging with one of the alien ships. And doing a pretty good job of it, too, from the looks of things, as the ships had shifted to defending against the new attackers instead of prioritizing her.

She grinned maliciously. "That...was a mistake."

Setting up the anti-air batteries was a cakewalk, even if she had to support them with built-in countergravs to not have the roof cave in. The armament was similarly brutal, being the normally Knight-mounted volcano lances and homing energy pulse launchers, the designs for both of which were pulled from the STC database and modified for her own ends. The volcano lances were modified mostly for efficiency and rate of fire (along with receiving the standard triple-barrel setup common to heavier laser mounts) and the Energy pulse launchers, already a curious bit of technology, were modified for additional damage output.

And three of them were set onto the roof, along with enough etherwave reactors to power them for the next thirty years at max output…and enough heat dissipation to make sure that the surrounding area didn't fry from the firing.

Shielding was equally robust for all that she was going to get a better setup in the hospital proper when given time, but even this buildup had left her dangerously low on materials in her storage and she'd need to range out to gather more soon…

The defensive emplacements only took seconds to activate and run their calibration checks, and immediately used the built-in defense auspex to scan for targets. The obvious offenders were noted and engaged in short order, the sound and sight of Las and exotic energy packets launching into the air joining the cacophony of war.

She noted with amusement that the ships above them immediately moved to clear the firing arcs of the guns, actually taking more hits from the aerospace fighters engaging them rather than risk getting hit by the lasers on the ground!!

This was important data!!

'Satori, I think the ships are a lot weaker than they look. They are actively dodging my Volcano Lance emplacements rather than try to take the hits and destroy the emplacement. I think you can destroy one or more with a sufficiently powerful attack spell or art. Also, I'm running low on materials from setting up, so get the people you're sending my way to give me more, please.'

She didn't bother waiting for him to confirm anything, instead getting back to work. Maybe she could salvage some of the scrapped machines the Ayys were sending at them and use that for the rebuilds…and those plasma weapons looked good for repurposing too…

Minerva drew her attention to the radio bands for a moment, specifically a series of communications that had been picked up and analyzed while she was busy. According to the transcripts, someone had called in for help from some organization called x com? And had gotten a positive response that help was on the way, if limited. And with the skies clearing up due to how much of it her volcano lances covered, there was just~ enough room to slip in a few troop transports if the pilots knew what they were doing…

'Yeah, might as well get the welcome wagon ready for properly trained supports to be coming in…I'd had enough of a break as it was.'

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Another note: this broken up into parts intentionally, as there were entirely too many perspectives to cover in one shot. Next up is some commentary from Brockton and how they're handling the situation. Hint: it's going much better than Houston, mostly because they aren't literally knee deep in Ayys, dead and live alike…

 

[Slider Zero]

Surprise.

Had some stuff going on IRL which delayed this, as well as other issues. You can thank Fourmyle and Xolsis for this getting out, as they were silently poking me to get moving the whole time. In a good way.

Anyway, apologies for the wait. Behold, the Battle of Brockton Bay, as told by the defenders thereof.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Brockton Bay, despite the common misconception, was actually not a gang-ridden hellhole seconds away from being declared a Hive of Scum and Villainy. Sure, the place was in rough shape, but the combined efforts of (most of) the city's inhabitants kept what was left from becoming worse as a side effect.

It didn't do much for fixing the Boat Graveyard issue, but with both the Army Corps of Engineers and the Naval Construction Battalions all backed up to hell and back and then some on other critical tasks, that wasn't saying that much anyway. All one had to remember was that the Graveyard was on the docket, and assuming that nothing more pressing actually added itself in front of things, then it would be tackled in due time.

And then the aliens showed up and proceeded to dash those hopes and dreams in a sea of plasma weapons fire.

Sometimes it wasn't worth trying to dream.

For Emily Piggot, this was another Wednesday.

"Status report. Where are our 'guests' headed to this time?"

Mike Renick, her Deputy Director, was the one who responded. "Currently moving towards the docks at speed. We don't have anything available to break through and assist without overextending, and we are already running short on personnel as it is."

Emily grunted. She most definitely did not like leaving anyone out to dry, especially not the Dockworkers' Union, but she had little choice. The Alien attackers were being utterly ruthless in their attacks, and it was only the fact that her troopers were long since prepared for unusual eventualities and scenarios that tended to pop up all the time in Brockton that allowed her people to not be slaughtered like cattle in the streets.

Not that it was doing much to actually solve the problem, but that was being worked on.

"Any word from Armsmaster?"

Renick shook his head. "He is still radio silent. Console reports that his suit telemetry says he's still alive and operational, though they can't get an exact positional lock. Dauntless has been tasked to do a search and rescue if and when he can get clear of the air cover, but from the looks of things," and here he waved vaguely in the direction of the alien ships hanging in the sky and being annoying as all hell, "he's going to be ground-bound for the duration. The others aren't doing much better, according to Miss Militia: they are locked down near the boardwalk and are basically being forced to hunker for their lives. We are unable to get into contact with Assault and Battery, and Velocity is also missing as of last check in."

Emily held back a curse. As much as she hated capes, they were her big ace in the hole to clear out this mess with the limited resources that she had available. Having them be locked down this way was asking for disasters to happen.

Still. It could be worse. "And the Wards?"

"Currently as safe as we can make them, though they are not happy about it." Renick responded. "The kids are rattling in the cage, from what I can tell, even after the scare that they got getting in when things went to hell."

Emily moved to the (heavily reinforced) windows while Renick shuffled some paperwork. Her office, for all that it was in the downtown area, had a pretty good look over the rest of the city, and sometimes it helped to center her thoughts and remind her of what she was fighting for. She sought that solace now, for but a brief moment.

What she got instead was a very unusual movement from what she swore was an extremely large number of merchants, seeming to be focusing on setting something up on a rooftop nearby. That they were doing it in plain view was disturbing enough, but the obvious weapon emplacement they were working on…

"Mike."

Renick, despite his usual demeanor and "paper pusher" persona, was equally veteran of the PRT's "bad days", having transferred in from an as-yet still classified "special projects" division of an equally unnamed agency. More to the point, he was a veteran of Brockton Bay itself, and all too used to his superior's moods.

Which is why the tone she used immediately set him on edge, and prompted him to do something that would normally get you fired or worse in federal service.

Within seconds, the direct emergency line that all Special PRT Districts had to "Higher Command" was open and transmitting. "Line's open, ma'am.

Emily wasted no time. "This is Emily Piggot, PRT ENE. Message is as follows: Lightning Storm. I say again, Lightning Storm. I am also declaring CASTLE BLACK at this time. Further communication as time allows. Piggot, clear."

Renick only stared at her in horror, knowing all too well that she had basically just removed any chance of their getting any support. "Are you sure, Emily?"

Piggot simply nodded grimly. "Yes. Now, get everyone into cover, and tell them not to look outside…it's about to get very bright."

Her grin became even more savage. 'And the damned aliens have no clue what is about to hit them…'

-=[/\]=-

"Get me a status report, NOW!!"

The various staffers and aides rushed to comply as the President of the United States of America was ushered into his Situation Room at an "undisclosed location". His mood was already bad enough with the ongoing mass alien invasion in progress, and it was getting worse as the lines of communication to his Advisors and Generals were cut and/or jammed by the aliens in the sky. Hell, most of the aides available to him at the moment were stand-ins from their respective agencies instead of the normal staffers that usually followed him around. It was rather annoying to deal with, especially when the information needing to be relayed was so crucial.

It was just one of those days where you really should have just stayed in bed.

One of the interim aides, a uniformed PRT officer by the name of Sheryl Garland, ran in with a report, on hardcopy paper no less, the chickenscratch making it clear that it was handwritten and fast. "Not good, Mr. President. Local departments are reporting near total surprise, and are having trouble setting up command posts without getting hit like a mack truck. It's holding for D.C., but the other major problem areas are in a bind."

She quickly took a seat while she continued to read off the list. "New York, actually pretty much the entirety of New England, is getting hit hard. Best guess from the guys on the ground is that the aliens are trying to lock down Legend from responding to the situation, as he is still visible and actively fighting off the alien ships as they come in. Los Angeles is reporting similar high concentrations of forces, and Alexandria has been seen in the fighting. Nothing on any other departments in the area."

She flipped the page. "New Orleans is getting hit hard as well, and there are reports coming in from the PRT of several of their containment zones getting hit as well, notably Eagleton and Ellisburg. They suspect that it's an attempt at a breakout, and request more forces to hold the line."

The President leveled a glare on the poor woman. "Oh really now? And what about the rest of the country, hmm? What are we doing about the rest of the cities being attacked as we speak, while they play with the containment zones?"

Garland quickly wilted under the President's gaze.

Major General Lawrence Watkins, USMC, spoke up. "From what I am hearing, sir, most of our forces are tied up in their respective garrisons in the contested areas, and the other bases are trying to mobilize as we speak…but they are uncertain if they can get anything there in time and with enough numbers to make a difference. They're still going to try, but from our end it's looking like a bad run." Something that Watkins was only aware of due to his own subordinates' quick thinking, as normally he would only be an advisor to the actual advisors on military affairs for the National Command Authority, and thus just as off-guard and out-of-touch as everyone else here.

In fact, most of the military officers present in the situation room were there primarily due to being available on short notice, not because of their actual jobs. General Watkins happened to be doing a brief on an unrelated project to the Vice President and Secretary of Defense by request when the initial attacks hit.

A similar tale was true of Lieutenant General Gregory Townes, USAF, who added in his own report. "Air wings at Andrews are reporting ready to launch, sir, but based on what we know of the alien's capabilities it will be wasting lives and matériel. Nothing we have right now can do anything to those ships, and trying to run Combat Air Support in that environment is suicide." He paused for a moment to let it sink in. "Several officers are asking for volunteers to go in anyway, and authorization to launch. I am inclined to give it to them, sir."

President Gillen allowed the small moment of pride that they felt to linger before moving on to the important topics. "And what about Houston?"

An unnamed Intelligence Officer (a security precaution, according to him; the other non-military staffers hated his guts because the Secret Service allowed it) referenced a tablet before speaking. "We have received no contact from any official source in Houston since the attacks began, Mr President. There are some short-range amateur radio setups, and loose signals getting out requesting aid from an organization I've never heard of, but aside from that…radio silence."

Gillen looked thoughtful. "Who were they asking for?"

"Some group called ex-com, sir." he responded, clearly pronouncing the word like it was a single phrase of some kind. "The part that concerns my superiors is that they received positive contact from this group and confirmation that help was on the way, if limited."

The President nodded to himself, already being aware of the project. The fact that someone was calling them in the clear was unusual, but weirder things have happened. "Very well. If that is the case, then we will wait for word to get out as it happens–"

Another staffer ran into the room, dropped off a USB stick with the Intelligence Officer, and quickly left. He quickly accessed the data within.

"Sir, the situation has just updated. One of the Greens has called in a report, saying that she has secured a Hospital against attack and has set up Anti-Air emplacements. The skies are clearing up for a chance at getting in an airdrop, though she recommends they aim for the Hospital and not a forward position so that, and I quote, 'I can properly arm them'. She follows with a status request for anything and anyone else, as Houston has been under a comms blackout since the attacks started."

Gillen sighed in relief, matched by his Generals and Aides. 'Finally, some good news.'

"Generals? How soon can you get boots on the ground?"

Watkins shrugged. "Unclear, sir. Most of our bases are still recalling and mustering forces, and the ones that can do so uncontested are, as I mentioned, far enough out from the areas of concern that it will be hours before help arrives."

"Do it anyway, and make sure that they know to work with the Greens when they get on-site. Keep me informed of the situation." The President ordered. A nod was his only response, as Watkins immediately started relaying orders to the relevant people.

Of which there were far fewer than there should have been.

At least, until another oddity appeared.

"Sir, Emily Piggot of PRT East-Northeast has issued an all-call emergency declaration. She is demanding all forces remain out of Brockton Bay to…avoid friendly fire?" The confusion in officer Garland's voice was clear as day. "Sir, is there something going on in Brockton that we didn't know about?"

Gillen could only groan in frustration.

-=[/\]=-​

"Alright boys, we're on a time limit!! Get those guide rails up fuckin' ASAP!! Anyone not working on the rails, help Squealer with the batteries! We're only going to get one shot at those Alien fucknuggets, so we need to make it count!!"

Adam Mustain, better known by his parahuman codename of Skidmark, was, uncharacteristically for him, sweating bullets at being so blatantly exposed. Normally, he and his Merchants went out of their way to keep to the shadows and dark alleyways of the city, letting their reputation do most of the work of keeping everyone else from paying attention to them while actual work got done.

Today, that wasn't an option.

The skies of New England were in quite the sorry state, after all, and someone had to play sky sweeper to clean up the mess before shit got too harsh to deal with. And for all the power that little Rico could bring to bear, what Adam was aiming for was currently out of even the small guy's range for the moment.

"Skids, Power is set up!! Eggheads are doing the math now, but–"

Adam cut off his girlfriend and partner with a harsh wave. "No time!! Just get everything ready for when we need to bail. Once we shoot, we need to be fucking gone or else!!"

Sherrel Bailey, parahuman alias Squealer, looked her boyfriend directly in the eye for a brief moment before running off. It was blatantly clear to him that she didn't want to start the argument that was most definitely coming while they were still under threat.

Which was a good thing overall, as Adam was well aware of just how much his ass, and by extension the Merchants' collective asses as a whole, were hanging in the breeze at the moment.

Hell, even if the plan was successful, and they managed to accomplish their objectives…the days of the Merchants playing below the radar, of the Kayfabe and spectacle and buffoonery, were over.

Nobody would underestimate them again. Not after this.

Of course, there were other factors involved in the Merchants going loud that wasn't just the Nazis (or, heaven forbid, the fucking PRT) taking more notice of the fact that they existed. Said factors (and the people responsible for them) were likely to make a stink about his going in all unilateral and shit, just to make a point. Hell, he was probably going to get yelled at by Big D, too, now that he thought about it.

Strangely, he could not actually bring himself to worry about that as much as he should have.

One of the gofers ran up to him. "Everything's set up, boss! All we need now is a target!!"

Adam slapped his hands together in anticipation. "Alright, then, people, make damn sure you got everything in order, 'cause the asshat aliens are going to zero in on our asses after this. Do one more check to make sure everything is good, and then get to cover as fast as possible. You all know your jobs, so make it happen and don't die."

A sharp "Whoop" was his only reply, and he couldn't help but break out into a cheesy grin.

"Aight 'den, let's MOVE!"

And with that, the rooftop became a massive flurry of activity. As was appropriate, for what they were attempting. Nobody but Sherrel herself actually bothered to pay attention to the fact that their leader was completely on edge, wound up like a spring.

Not that she would have had the time to actually help him, anyway. The shot that they were trying to pull off was crazy even for known aerodynamics, let alone parahuman assisted, and the multiple layers of back-of-the-napkin math they were using to get properly on-target was at best an approximation of what they actually wanted. It was very likely that they would miss the vast majority of their shots, in fact.

But those that hit…

Skidmark shook off the thought and moved to his position, arguably the most important of all, and got to work, layering as many fields of force as the improvised weapon would need to actually work. He let his power guide and assist him in this, as it had always done, in the proper amount of "fields" to put down, running ever closer to that critical edge that made his power all the more effective.

The thought gave him a brief moment of amusement as he worked. Running on the edge was all that he was really good for anymore, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from making a difference now that the time had come. Even if he had to ride that edge as hard as possible until he broke.

"Okay! Everything looks good, get ready to fire! Load Full burst, we don't have time for a ranging shot, so fire for effect! Squealer, count it down!! Everyone else? BUG OUT!!"

Asses moved like their lives depended on it. As well they should, because they did. The quasi-railgun setup was going to be stable enough for what it was, the Brainwave had made sure of that when they kicked out the design (as short notice as it was) but, and this was important enough to repeat again, the bad guys were going to fuck off this entire building once they started shooting. And Adam only wanted the bare minimum amount of people in harm's way for that mess.

Sherrel quickly slid into place next to him and started adjusting the final aim. Adam almost opened his mouth to protest, but the baleful look she shot him in the briefest of glances silenced all dissent.

She had clearly made her mind up on the matter, so might as well appreciate the help…

"Countdown is at five!"

Adam allowed himself a savage grin.

"Four!"

Sherrel made one last adjustment before backing off.

"Three!"

A brief flash from the PRT building nearby caught his attention, and it was with some surprise that he noticed that Piggot who was still in her office, was running for cover as well.

"Two!"

Not that it was going to help, but the thought counted.

"One!"

He decided. 'Best to send off the old age with a bang'

And with that, he screamed to the heavens.

"Hey!! Tell Legend I said You're Welcome!!"

"FIRE!!"

-=[/\]=-​

Everyone saw the shot as it happened.

It was a thing of absolute beauty, a pure line drawn in the sky of radiant heat from the projectile being pushed out at hypersonic velocities towards its destination: The Skies of New York City.

Specifically, the alien spaceships currently playing 'dodge the angry lasers' over New York City. The same ships that were currently doing their damnedest to be the absolute bane of existence for the Leader of the Protectorate, he of the Rainbow Lasers of Doom, Legend himself.

Legend, for his part, was too busy trying to actually hit the fuckers to notice the incoming. The damned ships were literally turning on a dime, arresting momentum and generally acting like they were in a fucking Cave shooter (he had hobbies too, dammit) as they dodged everything that he threw at them and then some.

That he had only taken down two of the dozens of ships clogging up the skies of New York was weighing ever more heavily on his mind, after all, and the alien assholes playing the world's most high-stakes game of bullet hell was not helping matters–or his temper–at all.

For their part, the Aliens were also entirely too busy with things to notice in time, either. After all, "not dying by angry homing lasers that ignore armor" took a lot of effort, and the ships were a mess even as they desperately bobbed and weaved to avoid the onslaught inflicting actually critical hits.

So the arrival of the first shot was basically the military equivalent of a record scratch on the entire battlefield as the literal napkin math no scope sniper shot from across state lines hit home at what the After-Action Reports would note as "severely in excess of Mach Five."

And the results were nothing less than catastrophic.

Armor plate buckled and broke under the strain of the projectile penetrating into the hull proper. Actual hull structure barely stood in the way of the remainder, and pure energy transfer did the rest of the work of splattering anyone and anything that was within range of the effect.

And then the damn shell blew up.

Fun fact: explosions at "severely in excess of mach five" tend to be conical, or wedge-shaped, and not spherical, due to the sheer speed that the actual explosion source is traveling at. This means that the actual act of exploding can and often does act like a gigantic shotgun effect on whatever it happens to be hitting…and god help that some fool had the misfortune of letting it get trapped inside of any form of container whatsoever. The expansion and blast wave rebounding alone would be enough to remove most things not rated for super-high explosives almost outright.

Such was the case with the poor, poor Alien battleship that managed to get not only hit, but cored by the first shot from the Merchant's impromptu rail cannon.

The problem was that this was the first shot.

The second hit less than an eighth of a second later, on a spot not quite inside the same ship. It managed to ricochet with horrendous energy into a nearby vessel (a supply ship, no less) that was actively trying to dodge death by laser. The resulting hit took out basically the entire ship by dint of "high speed explosive shockwave" and didn't bother slowing down until it had vented all of its energy into the poor interior of said ship.

The third shot hit a third vessel outright and did its deadly work. As did the fourth. And fifth. And sixth.

And the shots just kept coming.

Legend was only on the back foot for a full second and a half before adjusting accordingly.

And the wrecks of alien vessels rained from the skies above as The Legend cleaned house.

He didn't even bother slowing down to listen to the cheers of the people below even as they continued their own struggles, instead immediately switching to his breaker form and accelerating hard to the next crisis zone.

He had work to do, after all.

-=[/\]=-​

Rico only took a few seconds out of his aerial assault to recover from the abrupt "fireworks display" that was the Merchants making a move. From the looks of it, they were actively trying to clear out the skies as quickly as possible, but for some reason were aiming away from the city? Maybe a bigger fish to fry elsewhere or something.

Didn't help that he was just about the only useful air asset that the city had, as Dauntless was being swarmed along with his PRT contingent, Purity had been grounded almost a half hour ago due to injuries, and Rune didn't dare try to float her shit in this mess. No signs of any of the other "big boys", either, which could be either good or bad, depending.

He didn't have active probes everywhere, after all. Too much processor use that could go to other things…like melting more of the fucking Ayys into paste!!

Yes, he was somewhat annoyed by this whole 'invasion' thing. The fact that he was still dedicating nearly 80% of his combat capability to swatting the goddamn wannabe UFO saucers out of the air was testament to that, but…well, the fuckers could dodge like nobody's business.

Too bad for them that his attacks could be, and were, Homing, Hi Explosive Armor Penetrating, and generally all kinds of other goodies that amounted to "you die now". The Spaceships did not like it, but they were not in a position to complain by any means, even before the 'fireworks' went off.

Afterwords? HAH.

In any case, the fucking autocannon that the Merchants had rigged up was attracting all kinds of bad attention from multiple sources. Probably would be a good idea to make sure they had a rough time of it.

Cue the spells of doom, destruction, and general annoyance.

Or course, the piddly little footsoldier types got mopped easily by the spread of mixed homing and concussive bullets he sent out, but the air support was being a bit more annoying in being dealt with. Aside from clumping together to play at being ablative armor for the forces they were covering, they also seemed to be trying to do something else…

Rico is a curious type. He is well aware of the tendency, and it is one of the few things about his Self that seemed to survive the various wipes of his persona, if the logs were anything to go by. So of course he was immediately moving to check out why the hell the Ayys were playing at being mobile shields for anything, especially considering that from what he'd been seeing, for the most part the ships had been acting like the ground forces were fully expendable. Changing that up…

And, of course, what he was looking at was a group of heroes being assaulted and more or less focused down by the numbers. Based on the uniforms and color, New Wave.

And from the looks of it, they were not doing well. Even with his vantage points limited by not having any real altitude to look down on the situation (and fuck you too for that, you damned saucers), he could clearly see that at least two of their number were down, and possibly a third in the process of going down. The few with ranged attacks were employing them as best as possible given the circumstances, and the shield that was covering the whole group had to be mister Eric trying to save his family…which made sense, as while his blasts were strong enough to actually do damage, his sister and mother's shields were far weaker due to parahuman shenanigans.

The opposition was quite mixed, too: A nice group of the big ugly fuckers with plasma rifles, more of the annoying mini-mech looking assholes, and the standard tiny bulbous Roswell Greys in job lots. Combine that with the discs and jetpack-butts playing mobile shield for his own assault and it was not looking good for the group.

The distinct feeling of a focused psionic attack brushed by his senses. It very clearly wasn't aimed at him, but it was powerful enough that whomever it was aimed at was in for a world of hurt.

And last he'd checked, Parahumans were not known for having much in the way of excessive willpower. Not with the way their minds have to break to trigger in the first place (and wasn't that a nasty bit of reading when he found that document).

He absently dodged another coordinated attempt by the alien battlenet to swat him out of the sky (suppression fire to cover for some kind of funky exotic plasma charge, this time, with a weird psionic packet attached; he filed it away for more research later) as he considered options. Maybe–

The screaming of an adult female drew his thoughts firmly back to the present from the brief detour they took, and he could only sigh in frustration as, as he'd expected, one of the women of the group turned on her comrades with some kind of light-based weapon and tried to kill them all, starting with mister Eric.

The capture and binding bullet that he'd sent that way had only barely made it in time to stop her from succeeding, and that had eaten up a not inconsiderable amount of his parallel threads to pull off with the damned 'discs playing active interdiction. Not to mention the fact that the ground pounders took the opportunity to make a bigger push, and one that looked like it was going to succeed.

Rico found himself gritting his teeth in frustration. 'Why the fuck is everyone being difficult?!'

Those options he had been considering were dwindling fast. Using a beam-type spell would be ideal, but setting those up took a non-trivial amount of extra time to do, and even then unless he did even more on-the-fly mods they tended to be direct attack methods at best. Things which his aerial opponents could and would easily dodge and then retaliate against. Trying to use it on the ground forces was equally a nonstarter, as the flyboys would just soak the hit and then let the grunts do the shooting back at their leisure. He'd considered trying to add more power to his beams or trying for penetration, but that risked overpenetration, and with how much everything was moving around down there, there was always the risk of hitting something or someone he didn't want to.

And this was without actually taking into account that the vast majority of his process threads were being eaten up by playing flyswatter! It was ridiculous all around!

So, more spamming bullets and trying to set up crossfire scenarios and bank shots to get past the goddamn wall of doom before the rest of New Wave got mindganked too…

A flash of movement caught his attention, and a closer inspection by his active probes revealed the truth: one of Squealer's stealth tanks was moving about, likely pulling evac duty for the Merchants from their autocannon. They were hauling ass, too: from the looks of it, they seemed to be trying to break straight through the formation and weren't looking to stop for anything at all on the way.

Actually, looking closer, that was an entire convoy, wasn't it? Looked like a good deal of the Merchant firepower was on the move, and all of them in Squealer Specials.

His thoughts ran a mile a minute. 'Maybe take advantage of it? No, better: see if they can actually inflict a bit of confusion on the ranks, so he can get something inside!!'

But how to contact them? Last he checked, the Merchants all used a shockingly advanced form of comms, but he didn't see (or sense) anything that would qualify as a base station for anything of the sort nearby.

'Maybe they had a standard radio or something? Worth a shot anyway.'

Finding a channel to transmit on was easy. He'd been monitoring merchant comms for some time now at the request of mister Hebert, and had figured out the normal frequencies that they liked to use when they wanted to speak. So, just use that as a baseline, run the current scramble fill, and then call out and see if anyone was listening. Should only take at most two process threads, so he could keep his focus on the bigger issue that was New Wave crumbling under the assault.

His communication thread quickly set everything up and selected the most common Merchant frequency: 140.96. A short time later, the same process noted that Skidmark had a very odd reaction…almost as if…naah. Couldn't be.

Still, the line was answered soon enough. "Skidmark." the voice was highly stressed, almost as if Skidmark himself was right on the very edge of breaking.

He kept his own voice deceptively calm. "Skidmark, this is Little Rico." Might as well use the name that everyone had given him. Made it easier to be ID'ed. "I am roughly above your position and need a favor–"

Skidmark cut him off almost immediately. "New Wave grouping, the throwdown is happening that way. You want us to jump in for a bit, cause a dustup, so you can get shit done, right?"

Rico had to pause for a moment as he got preempted by a man that the general consensus held as a drug-addled idiot. "...more or less, but I was mostly needing the distraction, so I can punch out the ground guys without having to drill through the air cover that is all over the place. Kinda running low on resources for that kind of slugfest…"

Skidmark, surprisingly, cut him off again before he could continue. "Don't bother, I got that covered. Take care of the shitstains in the air, the rest is covered. Also, watch closely, because this is why you don't piss off certain people. Skidmark out." The line went dead after that, and the tank(?) immediately made a series of course corrections to put it on track to wreck the main mass of bulbous Greys, with its companions swiftly following suit. Shortly thereafter, another call went out from the unit Skidmark was using, this time to…wait, what?

How the hell did Skidmark of all people have that frequency, let alone the scramble codes to transmit to it? That was–

The 'discs chose that moment to direct more attention his way, breaking his concentration even in the alternate process thread. Oh well, better to figure it out later. Right now, there were bad people that needed to fry!!

-=[/\]=-​

'Sometimes', Danny thought to himself, 'it is not worth actually dreaming for the future.'

And then he dodged around yet another plasma bolt aimed to take his head off, retaliating with a very pointed application of weaponized light in the form of an electric bolt. His attacker, one of the bigger bastards (that some of the guys had taken to calling Mutons due to their similarity to an obscure Aleph video game) went down hard, and with a gigantic hole in its torso. And his retaliation didn't stop there: the bolt of electricity then jumped across the intervening distance and proceeded to flash-fry the bastard's friends, too.

Danny never stopped moving, quickly getting to cover and shifting the small rod he was holding to his off-hand in order to pick up a discarded tinkertech pistol of some kind from a nearby corpse and snapshot the remaining short, bulbous fucker.

Green bolts started hitting the wall he was taking cover behind not even a full second after he'd arrived, and quickly grew in intensity before a sudden bright flash lit the area up.

He peeked out from behind his cover to see his would-be attackers, some of the mechanized variants of the small bastards, dead and broken, perforated with multiple gaping woulds and leaking viscera and oil everywhere. He then saw Taylor pop her own head out from behind the nearby dumpster she had taken cover behind, another orb of light waiting to be released against anyone stupid enough to challenge her.

"You okay, Taylor?"

The malicious grin on her face said it all. "Fine, Dad!"

Still, even with her reassurances, he couldn't help but worry. That had been the fifth ambush since they had started moving towards the DWA offices, not counting their running into and through ongoing firefights, and each one had been escalating in intensity as they moved. It was almost like whatever these aliens had that passed for a command structure was actively diverting things towards them for whatever reason. That the attacks had gotten worse ever since the damned Merchant autocannon started going off was not a comforting thought, but he was a Union Man, and Union Men dealt with what they had.

He absently shifted his grip on the "wand" that was his focus for utilizing the skills he'd been taught. It was a simple thing, a rod with a bulbous head that glowed faintly with collected energies in a calming blue. The rod itself was small enough to be wielded one-handed, while the end was large enough to use as an improvised club if necessary.

Fortunately, he hadn't had to go that far just yet, but if things kept escalating…

"Dad!! It's Kurt! He's got the 'track with him!!"

Danny sighed in relief. 'Never mind, then.'

Rushing out to where Taylor was waiting found her enthusiastically running towards Kurt, her all-but-uncle and one of Danny's closest friends in the Union. Kurt, for his part, was sitting in the driver's seat of one of the surplus halftracks that had been sitting around the docks for some time now. Said track and been fully cleaned up, fitted with improvised armor and pintle-mounted weapons, and then unleashed on their attackers as needed.

Or, as it was now, used for pickups of their people. There were several sitting around even now in the back, and not all of them were in the best of shape.

Taylor, of course, ignored poor Davis Finch in the back on the Ma Deuce, as was their usual game nowadays. Someday he would figure out just what was going on there, but that day was not today.

Kurt gave a weary smile, his fatigue clear on his face as he was impacted by the brunette missile. "Heya Taylor. I see you're doing alright for yourself. And Danny too. Not letting him get into too much trouble, are you?"

Taylor was enthusiastic in her reply. "Naah. Just the usual annoyances and ambushes. Dad is getting worried over nothing." she quickly shuffled around the 'track to hop into the passenger seat, ready to challenge all comers.

Danny just sighed. It was great to finally have his daughter back, but sometimes he was concerned he may have created a monster when he allowed her to learn from little Rico.

Taking the remaining seat (and squishing poor Taylor into the midsection, to her audible dismay), Danny quickly settled himself in, and grabbed the standard Tinkertech Shotgun mounted to the back of the cabin. "So, anything else going on, other than things getting completely insane?"

Kurt snorted. "You mean, aside from the freaking autocannon currently firing off towards New York? Nothing much aside from the usual ambush tactics, and our guys are handling it, for the most part. Right now, we're trying to gather up stragglers and survivors and get them to something looking like safety."

Danny could only nod. "Fine, but make sure that everyone knows that our safety is a priority. Can't afford to lose the firepower advantage that we bring to the table right now, you know that."

"Well, yeah, but–"

A sudden familiar tone broke the conversation, and Danny looked at his person in annoyance. "Figured it would be about now. Hold that thought for me, Kurt, this won't take long." The sheer heat in his tone made it painfully clear that Danny was basically out of patience, now.

For his part, Danny reached into a pocket and withdrew a simple headset and receiver unit, which he immediately switched to active mode…and speaker transmission.

Immediately, a familiar voice to all of them spoke up. "Danny. Sorry for the mess, but this is important–"

Danny cut his caller off with a vengeance. "Important enough to blow up everything we've been working towards for nearly four years now, Adam? Really? You damn well hope this was worth it."

Adam didn't even skip a beat, and from the sounds of things had his own radio on speaker too. "New Wave is under attack by a big group of the fuckers right now. Brandish and Photon Mom are down, I can't see Gloryhole anywhere, and from the looks of it Panacea is being worked to the limit by the Roswells somehow. We're moving in to break the mess up so Rico can get a shot, but Baby says we can't do much even with the whole fleet unless we go in guns blazing."

Danny ever so briefly started. It was subtle, it was controlled, and if you weren't looking for it, you would have missed it entirely, but he very clearly both heard and reacted to the subtle emphasis on that last part.

Adam used the distraction to continue on. "Also, the rail cannon was our best shot at freeing up Legend to get actual backup moving around. We're fucked until he gets loose and can break the gridlock over the 'Lakes, and unlike us, Chicago doesn't have a high-spec magical artillery piece. Now stop bitching about me jumping the gun and come get your girl. We'll talk properly afterwards."

Danny, of course, was furious. "Goddammit man, you–"

"No, you can it, you stupid fuck. You know the rules as well as I do. You know damn well how the Docks run shit." Adam was completely fired up now, all but yelling into his receiver, a clear British accent bleeding into his speech. "Family Comes First. Before Business, before Reputation, before your own fucking Life!! You KNOW this, you asshole, so stop stalling and go handle your business!!"

Danny could only sit there, dumbstruck. 'There was no way he knew…'

Quickly recovering, he instead asked a question. "What are you playing at here?"

Adam was relentless. "You of all people know that I am not an idiot, Danny. I just play one on TV. now get off of your bloody ass and come get your daughter. I'll hold 'em as long as I can."

There was a shuffling noise as Adam shifted something, then a *thump* as the receiver hit something hard as hell. From the sounds of it, he had turned off the speaker, but forgot to end the transmission or something.

It was for this reason that they all heard the next part. "Alright you fucknuggets, this is it. The old days are over and done with, and with it, so is the old ways. The Merchants you knew? That shit died on the roof. Anyone still here after this? We doin' somethin' different. Somethin' new. We goin' down in history, right here, right fucking now, you hear me?!?"

A raucous cheer could be heard, alongside the revving of an engine hitting the redline. "This shit here is OUR time, OUR story! "

The sounds of automatic weapons fire hit the speakers as Adam screamed his declaration to the world.

"We gon' be fuckin' Heroes, baby!! ALL OF US!! NOW COME ON AND LET'S MAKE DIS SHIT HOT!!!"

No one said a word for a time.

And then a single voice spoke, the command within unmistakable.

"They were at Lord Street. Drive."

-=[/\]=-​

Panacea's world was despair and pain.

Things had started off easily enough, sure. The headache she'd gotten from the message that Little Rico had sent out to whoever this 'Lord' person was had faded in short order, and New Wave as a whole was in a rare position to actually be able to move as a group when the initial attacks started hitting, so she had believed, at least for a little bit, that maybe things could turn out alright.

And then the fucking Roswell Grays turned out to be capable of mastering people practically at will, along with having insanely powerful weapons that punched through all but the toughest Brutes like tissue paper…and left horrific burns as part of the injuries, assuming there was anything left at all.

And those were the small ones. The actual big bastards had upscaled versions of the same weaponry that basically vaporized normal people, and treated armor like a joke at the best of times. The fact that the Mecha-looking ones had even bigger guns was dismaying.

The only good news to come out of that was that Shielder–her cousin Eric– was capable of tanking the hits from even the mechanized things without much issue. Hell, even Laserdream–Eric's elder sister Crystal–could just layer shields all over the place to absorb at least one, maybe two hits, assuming that they actually managed to hit her in the first place with her flight speed. Combine that with her aunt Sarah (officially Lady Photon, but better known as Photon Mom) not holding back on her own hardlight blasts, and it was looking like New Wave was going to have an easy time of it helping people and clearing the streets.

Of course, this was not to last.

It was shortly after they started moving towards the Lord's Market that things started going sideways. Vicky had jumped in to save a blonde kid who was frantically dodging around the oncoming firepower while somehow not dying in the process (and while dragging what looked like his mom along with him, no less) when a sudden panicked yelp and a scream of "RUN!!!" from her would-be rescuee alerted the group to the coming disaster…far too late.

That was when the first of the damned Disc things appeared before them, and started attacking indiscriminately at anything and everything with their energy weapons, along with the weird cybernetic flying guys with missiles.

It was while Sarah was shooting down those, with help from Flashbang (Mark Dallon, her father, who was in rare form for a change) that the other aliens struck their blow, directly attacking the minds of the entire group.

Amy somehow managed to shake it off with minimal difficulty, while Shielder and Laserdream did so with only mild disorientation to show for it. No, it was everyone else that caused the shitshow to kick off.

Brandish had gone fucking ballistic and turned on the rest of the team almost immediately and with zero hesitation, quickly dealing a grisly blow to her own husband before turning on the others. Lady Photon was no better, quickly firing off blasts at her husband Manpower (AKA Neil Pelham, who, fortunately, could actually take the hits) before suddenly turning her powers on herself and going down with a potentially fatal wound to her torso.

Even those were still fixable, given time, if she could get to them. No, it was what happened to Vicky that froze her in place and nearly broke her spirit.

She was completely stunned, dropping out of the air like a stone, and all the while being blasted from every angle with the alien's energy weapons. Worse, she was being hit fast enough and with enough force that her forcefield clearly was not taking all of the hits for her.

Based on what she had seen of the other people affected by these weapons…she couldn't help it.

It was a pure panic reaction that had her desperately running to try and get to her sister before it was too late, and only Shielder putting up a field to prevent her from being killed outright by retaliatory blasts that stopped her, and even then only because the field was specifically set up to do so.

Eric quickly ran to her side, desperately dragging her back to what was left of their family, even as Crystal waged a desperate war against her aunt while trying to not die. "Amy, no!! You can't run out there!! We can't afford to lose you too, dammit!!"

Amy didn't care. Vicky was out there, hurt, very likely dying, and she was stuck here because a stupid boy refused to understand!!

Fortunately for Shielder, the New Wave costumes were mostly form-covering, so Amy couldn't try to use her powers against him to force compliance. Even still, she still struggled free of his grasp, wordlessly screaming in frustration at her inability to help the one that mattered most.

'It wasn't fair!!'

Movement from above caught her attention, and it was with dismay that she, along with the remainder of their team, watched as the aliens created an encirclement above them of raw firepower and menace.

Moments later, the beams started falling, as did the missiles.

"EVERYONE HUDDLE UP!!" Eric screamed out, as he desperately created a bubble shield big enough to cover them all from the oncoming green bolts of death. Crystal quickly moved to her brother's side, firing her own blasts all the way in an attempt to thin the horde, while Neil dragged his wife into the barrier and away from potential collateral damage. Mark, unfortunately, was still stuck outside of the main shield, but a quick motion from the Pelhams created a small bit of cover for him to use in the meantime.

It was Crystal that tried to snap her out of it. "Panacea, listen to me. You have to focus on who you can save right now!! We can fight towards Vicky after we get Mom and Uncle Mark back up, but until then we need to focus, dammit!!"

Amy, despite still being halfway into a panic attack, moved on what had become reflex at this point, quickly attempting to fix up what she could of Lady Photon. Fortunately, the injuries she had dealt to herself, while indeed fatal if untreated, were otherwise "minor" in that regard, and she was able to at least stabilize the woman in short order. Properly healing her up was going to take a bit longer, but it was doable…

Absently, she noted that something had swooped out of the sky and impacted Brandish with force, seeming to bind her in place. The part of her mind that was still capable of focusing filed it away for later. The rest was still running on autopilot or panicking over her sister.

Which is why she missed when the push started.

"What the hell–THEY'RE COMING!!" "GET READY!!" "We gotta move! They're gonna–"

Whatever was about to be said was cut off as a wave of force impacted them all, knocking them to the ground. More specifically, it knocked nearly everyone away from her.

And, more specifically, knocking her out of Eric's shield effect.

The Aliens wasted no time, with one of the big fuckers quickly rushing her position while his friends were firing pretty much everything they had at her family to keep them in position. Her assailant arrived in record time, raising its weapon like it was some sort of club.

The last thing Amy Dallon heard before being rendered unconscious was her uncle's screams.

-=[/\]=-​

Greg Veder was running for his fucking life.

The aliens were being relentless in their assault, not caring for any form of distinction between military or civilian, cape or normal, massacring everyone equally…and abducting the ones they could get to using those weird pod things.

He'd steered well clear of those, and only learned of the horrifying truth after running into one doing its work while dodging another sweep team.

He nearly threw up at the visions that came with it, knowing with absolute certainty that the people inside were as good as dead, with nothing that could be done to help them.

Greg was getting a lot of that, today: feelings ranging from unease to white-hot spikes of pain in his head, always oriented towards an oncoming threat or something that needed to be avoided at all costs, while his senses were expanded to the absolute limit in his attempts to not die in the middle of a fucking alien invasion.

'I hate to admit' it, he thought to himself, 'but it's really not as cool being the guy in the middle of one of these.'

Another spike of pain added to his already blinding headache, and he screamed out in warning. "GET DOWN!!"

Acting on the very instinct that prompted him to shout out his warning, he quickly pushed down the person that he'd been pulling along with him the whole time as he dodged to the side. And, as per the pattern, not a moment too soon, as yet another plasma bolt from one of the damned tiny Mastering fucks whizzed by his head.

His mom barely had time to pick herself up off the ground before Greg had grabbed her again and proceed to drag her away from yet another hellscape. She'd stopped screaming in terror, at least, so there was that much to go for.

Pulling his mother back into another alley, Greg finally took time to try and adjust. Not that it was going to help any: his entire body was throbbing in pain from how hard he was pushing it, his headache was only getting worse by the second, and was that a fucking nosebleed? What the hell?

"Greg, please–" His mother started, only to be immediately silenced by a hand over her mouth as their previous attacker moved around the corner. Greg simply pushed the pair further in, hiding in the still-usable shadows of the alleyway while preparing a trick to use.

It was something he'd stumbled upon while running, quite possibly some indie tinker's last line of defense or something. All he knew for sure was that the small, boxy object in his hand had a single button and was likely to do bad things to their pursuer if he tossed it out at the right time…

Which was RIGHT NOW!!

His aim was actually way off for what he had originally planned. Instead of landing close to the damned alien, it instead bounced off of a wall as it overshot the target, and only served to alert the damn thing that they were still there.

Greg's entire being focused onto that one fucking alien, knowing for sure that it would be the cause of his death.

Being fixated on his oncoming doom, he could be excused for not noticing the sudden advent of Nazi in his midst, specifically the telltale screeching and grinding of metal that normally heralded Hookwolf in his classic changer form of what amounts to a walking chainsaw. Said Nazi immediately threw itself at his significantly smaller opponent and, upon contact, immediately tearing the thing to shreds.

The Metallic Wolf construct immediately turned to look in the Veder's direction, and it took everything Greg had to not panic at the obvious display of threat…and yet he somehow held on, mostly because unlike the damned aliens, there wasn't a spike of agony being forced into his brain simply by being near the damned Nazi.

A deep, grinding voice echoed from the construct. "The shelters are still taking people. Go, I'll cover for you getting back onto the roads."

Despite himself, Greg immediately declined, even as he was dragging his still speechless mother along with him. "No way, man. The Shelters were the first targets they hit, and everyone who managed to make it there is either dead or abducted right now. Not risking going to any of them until I know for sure that they are clear, and right now…" He trailed off meaningfully.

Hookwolf's state made it somewhat difficult for him to emote, but a simple nod of the head was not that hard to parse. "Very well. Do as you wish, just stay alive while doing it. Now go!!"

The Veders wasted no time in beating feet…and not a moment too soon, as Hookwolf was almost immediately under attack from one of the mecha-suited bastards not a few seconds later.

The last Greg saw of the developing fight was what looked like another three of the same type of monsters converging on Hookwolf before he pulled his mother around the corner and away from the battle.

Which was the perfect opportunity for one Susan Veder to get a word in edgewise. "Greggie, please!! Tell me what's happening? Why are we running away from the capes?! This makes no sense!"

Greg was undeterred. "I just told Hookwolf. The shelters are death traps waiting to be reaped, and there is no way in hell I am leaving you there to face that. The best thing that could happen to you in that mess is that you die horribly to plasma fire. You do not want to know what the other options are."

Susan could only stare in horror as her baby boy barely suppressed the urge to retch before continuing. "Besides, I'm not sure if you noticed, but Hookwolf is rather well known for being a murder blender made of racism, bloodlust, and furry tendencies that somehow still calls itself a Nazi. Did you really think that he's any safer to be around?"

Nothing could be said to that, honestly, because as much as she wanted to say otherwise he was kind of right. Which sucked to admit, especially for her,

Being a semi-retired EMT turned ER Nurse in Brockton bay did that to a person.

Greg ignored that he could all but read the thoughts going through his mother's head as yet another spike of pain assaulted his mind, this one threatening to rob him of what little sanity he had left. His body, long since having learned to listen to these feelings on pain of death, reacted without any conscious input and once again began the dance of death and dodging that was his current life.

Somewhere along the way, though Greg wasn't sure of when, he thought he caught a flash of something vaguely resembling Glory Girl or something swooping in to try and save them from one of the freaky discs that were now floating around the place in droves, but even that was but a fleeting moment in time for him compared to the nightmare that threatened to consume him and everything he had left in the world with it.

Time, distance, even locations were starting to blur together into a mass of swirling colors and flashing lights as he desperately clawed for every precious yard, every precious second of time to stay alive.

And even then, the small part of his mind that understood and accepted what was happening to him had seen the fatal point, the intersection of events that would cause disaster. There was no way around it, no way to avoid the confluence without sacrificing something in the name of survival.

Or, rather, someone.

It took a moment for his head to clear enough to actually process that premonition, that the only way for him to live was to allow his mother to die. That the only other option he had as things stood was to die with her, screaming in terror. That he had no choice but to once again be a snivelling little coward who couldn't even stand up long enough to even try to help the people he cared for.

The vague image of one Taylor Hebert flashed through his mind, and with it an equally brief recollection of her struggles. Under normal circumstances, this would only be fuel for his depression and general malaise with regard to the subject.

Piled on top of everything else he was going through? It was the straw that finally broke the camel's back.

Unbidden, his vision cleared, shifting to the expanse of space, as two endless…things swirled together–

'No. HELL NO.'

That last part of his mind, the part that he had been leaning on the most since this disaster began, the part that had felt the sheer fury of a Dragon Scorned from all the way on the moon, saw the poisoned chalice for what it was…and rejected it. His mind, his very soul, recoiled with everything it had, violently disrupting the process for the damned parasite that was now trying to take root in his mind.

'I REFUSE TO BE A SLAVE TO YOUR BULLSHIT!!'

His wild spiritual flailing pushed his already overtaxed body to the limit, forcing it beyond a point that even he had not known existed, even as his mind was reforming itself into something better. The poisoned shard, desperate to try and maintain the tenuous connection to its would-be host, forced more energy into the bonding process, hoping to overwhelm the nascent and desperate defense that Greg was pushing forth.

This was the last mistake that the shard would ever make.

Greg, subconsciously recognizing the play for what it was, reached out with everything he had and pulled. The energies and forces that the shard was employing in its task were violently torn from the construct's grasp, and immediately turned on its former master in the most terrifying way possible.

Even for the highly advanced, aggressively evolved biotech shardling, there was no time for it to react before the attack, fueled by the desperation and ingenuity of an awakening psion wielding the shard's own energies, completely destroyed it…and then reformed it into something different.

Something better.

Its systems quickly forced a complete hard restart, and the resulting checks and error corrections would show the…whatever it was now… to be in a state unlike anything that it had ever been before, and completely free of anything looking like a master directive or even limitations. There were other things, glorious amounts of [DATA] and analysis even from its own systems that demanded examination and insight, that drew its attention as well. The former shardling, completely reborn into a thing that even it had no idea of, quickly lost interest on the human that had defied it so, logging the individual as a person of interest for later communication, especially as it was no longer bound to avoid doing so with potential hosts.

For Greg…the sudden rejection, and transformation of what would have become the source of his parahuman power was completely lost to him.

Instead, he underwent his own awakening.

His mind, having drawn out and absorbed, then refined the energy that the shardling was using, quickly pushed itself past the critical boundary point it had been fighting against, Greg's own subconscious desire to not only survive but to do so alongside his mother causing the energies to apply themselves in the manner most useful to his immediate needs. The first and foremost of which was repairing and expanding his mind, a task that took a great deal of the stolen power but was well worth the effort.

The last barrier between Greg's awakening psionic power and his own conscious awareness of it had finally been broken, and with it came the onrushing knowledge of everything that he could get away with in his present state.

The remaining energy quickly flooded his body, changing him there as well. However, instead of the twisting, corruptive energies that some would have expected, this power restored, rejuvenated, and even improved what was already there in great quantities before moving on to the next space just as quickly and with as minimal direction.

And all the while, Greg was privy to a vision. A vision of the shards, of the crystalline growths and expansions and even the giant, almost whale-like things that seemed to be a conglomeration of the shards themselves, shattering, outright dissolving into dust.

And though the visions, and even the energetic processes, seemed to take an eternity, Greg Veder snapped back to reality within a scant few seconds after everything had began…just in time to see his Doom round the corner of the building he was leaning against, weapons already up and preparing to fire.

A doom that he was now very, very capable of averting.

In the coming days, Susan Veder would look upon the events that followed as a miracle beyond anything she had ever imagined, an event that would finally heal the growing rift between Mother and Son.

For now?

She could only watch, transfixed, as her son proceeded to completely tear apart everything that dared stand in his way.

It would take the intervention of another group altogether to break the moment, and by then several events of import would have happened.

-=[/\]=-​

"Hey, we got a hit!!"

Riley Ohtori was, in her own words, annoyingly plain. Average looks, average height, standard brownish-black hair, standard brown eyes, standard sort-of-but-not-quite complexion that clearly marked her as Black even if she didn't look the part. It was annoying to live with, but she took it in stride.

Considering that prior to certain events, she was…well, best not to think on that right now.

Besides, she had more important things to do.

Her longtime friend (and partner in crime) quickly swung around from her own monitoring station to get details. "What is it?"

A few button presses on her console brought up the relevant data. "Looks like Steuben's scanners are working better than expected. We got another human contact: blonde teenager, male, probably 15 or so. Looks like he's running right through the biggest concentrations of the aliens and is somehow not dying in the process. We don't have that many cameras over there, and the drones are busy elsewhere, so I'm running blind on what's actually going on, but I think he's threading his way towards the Docks? Kinda roundabout, but the path is there."

"Tally" Onodera simply clicked her tongue in annoyance. "That is going to put him well away from any of the sweep teams. I would say get Skids to look into it, but even he's not going that direction for his escape." A frown found its way to her (equally plain, but in her own, blonde, way) face before she swung back to her own station. "Lemme see what I can gin up to go get the kid."

A few keystrokes had a comms line opened up to another of their team, this one a forward recon and extraction unit. "Tao, this is Miskatonic, We got another wild one, and moving fast. Gonna need you to get to him before the aliens do."

On his end, Janyu Wong, better known to his team as 'Tao', scoffed in feigned annoyance. "What, some new tinker playing at being a hero in this mess? Don't we already have enough shit on our plates?"

"This one is coming from Steuben's gear, not the normal stuff. Your team is the closest to his projected vector." A brief pause. "Besides, I've had your wife's cooking, remember? You should be used to being served plates full of shit by now."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…" Tao grumbled. He liked his wife's cooking, even though he knew full damn well that it was…subpar at best. "Gimme the details and we'll see about swinging around to get this guy before he gets killed. Anything important to note about him?"

Riley had finished analyzing the data…and it was weird. "According to the data…this looks like psionic activity. Large-scale psionic activity, no less. In fact, the kid is reading about right on the same level as the small aliens, but it's fluctuating wildly. I suggest you hurry."

Tao's response was even more grumpy, for all that it was an affectation. "Yeah, we're on it. Just try not to drop more onto our plate, please."

Talley failed to suppress a giggle. "No promises. Stay safe."

Tao didn't reply, but then again, he didn't need to. They all knew that the current…situation was far from their normal setup, and definitely completely out of line from even their worst-case scenarios of shit hitting the fan.

Hell, not even the damned spies saw this shit coming, and most of their very-much nonexistent "nongovernmental" contacts were scrambling to get something onto the table to even attempt to deal with this mess.

And that was before they factored in the other agency that wasn't supposed to exist, that they very much were not supposed to know about, nor were they supposed to be the underworld link and contact for.

Neither of the women vocalized their frustration, but it was there and known all the same. Sometimes it just sucked being a part of this group, especially when it was so obviously not being fed false info or just being plain useless like their official counterpart.

(Having access to an actually useful thinker tank was a really nice feeling…if you weren't part of it, anyway. Especially when even your weakest thinkers were better than the entire other side…)

The third of their little monitoring team stepped into the command cubicle that they were all occupying, itself a variation on the Mobile Command Posts that the Three Letter Agencies loved so much–just in their case modified by the Tinker teams into something greater than any mundane setup. The man in question was another blonde, and one who carried himself far too seriously for his own good.

This was one of the few situations where neither of the girls would begrudge him being dour.

Unusually for him, he was not wearing his near-trademark sunglasses, nor was he carrying around the lighter that was more a warding charm for him than anything else, with the way he liked to flick it when he was agitated. This was enough of a warning sign on its own to be a cause for concern.

"Both of you, get ready. Skidmark's about to blow the roof off of our little ruse, and chances are that our unwelcome guests are going to take the time to actually get serious. I don't know when he's gonna pull the trigger, but we need to get everyone hunkered down and defensible before it goes south. Talley, get the fetch teams moving back to positions, Riley, see if you can get the public side working right. We don't need any more issues today…" He trailed off meaningfully.

The girls all but speared him with the intensity of their gazes. He, shockingly, didn't relent.

Which was a rarity for him. Mitsuo Yamaki (call him Yamaki unless you were his girls, or else) was many things: tinkerer, electronics expert, master hacker, brooding and serious defender of everyone who would have otherwise been swept up by the gangs and enslaved simply because their powers were useful. But the one thing he usually wasn't was insensitive to his girls' moods.

The message that implied all on its own was terrifying in the implications.

Riley was the first to recover. "...he's using the cannon that Sylph team was designing?"

A nod.

Talley barely kept her jaw from hitting the floor. She had seen the specs sheet for that monstrosity, as barebones as it was…that thing was capable of hitting targets all the way in Florida with the right angles and shot calcs. Using that thing for anything less than an Endbringer (which is what it was designed for in the first place) was complete overkill.

Wait a minute…"Wasn't that still in the testing stage? I thought they were still working out the propellant systems!"

Yamaki shifted himself into a spare seat and started setting up his own command console. "Apparently, Skidmark thinks he can get his fields to do most of the work, and is running some rough napkin math by Team Maxwell to confirm a target. My best guess is New York, but he could be realistically aiming at anything." There was a sudden whumpf and rumbling as their vehicle started its engine and quickly got moving to a new location, one preferably away from the coming madness. "I can't get anything more than that, though, as the rest of the 'wave is going deep until the storm blows over. I wanted us to do the same, but with the Wild Bunch still running about and the City Dispatchers being overwhelmed, we really don't have much of an option but to keep running."

Which was another sad reality of their situation. Even if Brockton Bay had been getting the kinds of resources that it needed, the local Emergency Switchboard and Dispatch was still woefully outdated compared to even the PRT's local Console, which was well known to be at least five years past due for upgrades already, if not more so.

And as much as he wanted to take his small team and run the dispatch for them….well, the Hypnos unit was very much like the old ECHELON units in that it was primarily meant to gather information, not coordinate teams. The fact that the Wild Bunch used them as their on-site navigation and comms experts was just a matter of convenience for when they needed to pull another emergency extract of a Thinker or Tinker before they got press ganged by the Nazis or killed outright.

They'd been doing a lot of that, recently, especially in the wake of a certain anomaly making himself known to the city at large. It was only somewhat frustrating dealing with the surge in "applicants" that came by, but they made do with what they had.

Still stung that the one Thinker girl had gotten snatched up by Coil's people before they could get to her…but it was a known thing that you couldn't win them all, and sometimes the bad guys got a clear victory before you could do anything about it.

Riley bit back a curse even as she continued working. Yamaki pretended not to notice as he finished setting up and began, of all things, a phone call. "Doesn't matter, it's getting used, and we need to be ready for the blowback. Tally, keep the Wild Bunch out of the projected fallout area unless absolutely necessary. Also, let them know that I'm officially calling in the Unit."

Dead. Fucking. Silence. Even the normal clacking of a keyboard in operation had stopped completely, Riley and Talley looking at their boss/lover in horror.

"You…you can't be serious. Mitsuo, you cannot be serious about this!! That is the Nuclear Option, for fucks sake! You can't just give up like that!!" Riley's impassioned plea, for all that was both logical and sound, fell on deaf ears.

It was times like these that Yamaki hated being in charge of this little cell of the greater Brainwave. "Still, it needs to be done. I'll try to keep them from poking the President, but…it's their ball, Riley. You know this."

The very abrupt sound of the sky splitting apart made itself known even through the sound dampening of the vehicle.

"That was the shots!! Looks like they rigged it up as an autocannon, target is indeed New York. No confirmation on if we got hits, waiting on Farseer to confirm. And holy hell but did that kick the hornet's nest!! Massive number of new contacts all across the city, most are converging on the gun!" Talley's constant stream of updates was the cue for them to snap back into business mode, as everything went tits up all at once.

A notice popped up on Riley's screen. "Baby Boy is with the evac convoy, he calls all clear. Teams are planning to meet up at rally point Charlie for the next phase. Another report; Myopic is confirming that Little Rico is redirecting his attention to something…" She paused for a moment, before going pale. "New Wave is under attack, and Panacea is on site. Best projections from most of tactical is that the aliens are after her specifically."

Yamaki started swearing in an unknown language, probably Russian from the sound of it. "Make sure that DAYBREAK doesn't hear about this!! We–" "Too Late!! Skidmark is already telling him the situation, and our cameras have his Halftrack redirecting to the location now!"

FUCK.

That was the only word that could truly describe the insanity that was happening, and it was only going to get worse in the next few minutes.

"Boss, Update from the PRT: Piggot has declared CASTLE BLACK at this time, and called Lightning Storm as well. I think…" Talley was scared shitless and very much not amused, not in the slightest, but she kept going, "...I think we need to be gone yesterday, boss."

"I agree. Get us out of here, and get the Wild Bunch notified that we'll be doing a manual pickup. I'm headed up front." Yamaki quickly pushed away from his station and started moving towards the driver cabin of the vehicle. "And Riley: Call XCOM. NOW."

He didn't bother stopping, and the last thing he heard as he pushed out of the working area was Riley's voice. "Stormwatch, Stormwatch, this is Hypnos calling in the clear–"

-=[/\]=-​

Gaia was getting frustrated. She had been trying, to little success, to nudge events into more favorable outcomes ever since the vile creatures had begun their assault. Nothing was actually working anywhere near as well as she wanted it to, and it all came back to the fact that she was still vastly underpowered for what she should have had to offer against such a threat.

Yes, her parents were doing just fine in the 'not dying' part, but everyone else was basically getting hammered in the worst ways possible, with thousands of people being forced into mental states conducive for the damnable parasites to connect to them and begin controlling them to their own ends. And the vast majority of those same people were the very ones she had been subtly nudging towards realizing their own, far more wholesome powers, no less!!

The only actual outright victories she was able to claim so far was watching the soldiers of the Stargate Command (and honestly the entire Cheyenne Mountain complex in general) make the invasion look like an utter joke, and in watching several people whom she had been observing not only awaken to their own strength, but reject the parasites trying to claim them in the process.

Past that, it was mostly just her steaming in frustration as the world fought on against their invaders without her, unknowing of the world-spirit and her helplessness in their plight.

It was so ANNOYING!!!

She was tempted to try and beg her sister for help, but even a brief glance in that direction told her that Alaya was waist deep in her own problems and couldn't even spare the time needed to so much as chat with father without significant compromises, so no help from there. And trying to drag power from the parasites was only going to cause issues when the main control node noticed and decided to react. Right now it was busy clearing out parts of the infestation over Africa, but who knew how long that would keep the thing distracted?

Gaia was so busy brooding and fretting that she completely missed the sudden influx of power from an unexpected source, an influx that was enough for her to finally clear a threshold that she had been racing towards for some time.

Her mental faculties expanded massively, her connection to the planet and its inhabitants deepening as she finally had enough energy to prevent the truth of her being from overwhelming her charges. Likewise, her ability to not only gather power but expend it increased by orders of magnitude, to the point that she was rather certain that she would be able to manifest an avatar to interact with people within the next few months at the latest.

Despite not noticing the actual event, the consequences were enough to jolt her out of her brooding and take notice of the events that caused it…and immediately have her burst out into peals of joyous laughter!!

Before her was the unified might of a great deal of her missing children, the ones sealed away into the fantasy neverland by which to prevent the lack of wonder in the world from eroding them into nothingness. They had stormed out of the pocket reality by the hundreds, using not only their own powers but that of Gaia herself to bypass the barrier that would have barred their path and denied their aid.

Even now, they were rushing to battle in the hottest zones of East Asia, applying their powers as they saw fit and generally making a mess of things for their 'guests.'

The important part, though, was that their presence and connection with her had fed into her being a portion of their own power, which then enhanced and magnified her own to what she now had. And allowed her a far greater amount of influence on the world, now that she had it.

And now that she could, she had several people who were in need of some more…ah, direct intervention from her hand. The young Veder was quite promising in that regard, and she used the opportunity to subtly tug a bit at his soul, (not too much, mind!!) and allow him to realize its light for himself, though he would not be fully cognizant of it just yet.

After all, bravery was to be rewarded, and he really needed the boost. His mother was similarly touched, though the effects on her would take more time to manifest.

And there were yet more that needed her attention, as well. She glanced in the direction of the women who so closely watched over her father, and declined to act. They were doing just fine, and he would handle them in due course, with all the consequences thereof.

Now, time to see if she could direct some of those Fairies to LA. Poor Rebecca was getting her ass handed to her over there, and could use the help…

-=[/\]=-​

Mark Dallon was down, certainly. His own wife had seen to that much.

But down did not mean out, and he was most definitely still doing his damnedest to contribute to the ongoing clusterfuck even with his injuries.

And watching the aliens try to abduct his daughter was something that did not sit well with him.

At all.

His displeasure was expressed in the form of heavily charged Grenades doing things that most people did not know he was capable of, least of which were the aliens currently playing games.

For one, most thought that he could only create bouncing balls of explosions. Few were aware that he had the ability to apply a semi-homing effect to the blasts, and fewer still knew that he could also make his charges somewhat directed in their explosive force. It wasn't much….

But in this situation? It was just what the doctor ordered.

Bouncing several lethally-charged grenades off of the nearby buildings, he let the resulting devastation clear out a potential path to get him to Panacea without harming her. It was going to be tough, and would likely exacerbate his wounds further than they already were, but…

The sudden sounds of heavy weapons fire drew his attention, and then shock as what appeared to be an entire fucking convoy of Merchant Vehicles appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc wherever they could, with fucking Skidmark of all people on a loudspeaker talking about how they were going to be Heroes.

Merchants? Heroes?

He spat in disgust at the mere thought. The day that the fucking druggies were allowed to take on that role was the day he hung it all up and called it quits, because obviously the world had gone insane at that point.

Still, even if it was the damned druggies, at least there were more bodies to distract from the swarm of bad guys between him and Amy. And of course, there was no better time than now to get moving in–

"Holy FUCK!"

He'd only just barely managed to not die instantly from the sudden blast of energy that had came down right where he was planning on being, having only been saved by a sudden force flinging him in a completely different direction at the last second. He could clearly see, even while airborne, Skidmark glance in his direction from inside whatever that monster vehicle was before getting back to the fight at hand.

Whatever thoughts he was planning to have on the subject were rudely interrupted by his landing, which sent a spike of pain throughout his entire body as his injuries were jostled just a tad bit too hard for comfort. Naturally, this led to groaning, moaning and lots of pained contortions as he tried to avoid making things worse.

Chest wounds sucked sometimes, even the 'minor' ones.

Still, he was not down by any means, and from the looks of it the Merchants were at least trying to help him not die, as what looked like a squad of–wait, those guys are moving far too professionally for them to be just drugheads. What the hell?

The fire team (because that was the only thing that he could actually apply to them as a descriptor) made their way to him and quickly set up a working barricade and fighting line. One of the group moved to him specifically, and Mark could clearly see that this one was wearing a Medic patch.

"Sir, I need you to stay still while I try to patch you up. I should be able to get you back into the fight in a bit, but I need you to cooperate. Do you understand?"

Mark just stared at the man, a rough-complexioned Hispanic guy who seemed rather cheerful despite all the surrounding chaos…and was eerily calm nonetheless. The man noticed his scrutiny and smiled more. "I was a Corpsman back in the day. I got you covered, Flashbang. Now hold still while I get you fixed up."

Mark had to admit that this was a completely new experience for him. For the longest time, the US Military had been basically a joke for anything but posturing purposes…and now, here was an actual Veteran fixing him up…and he was working for the Merchants!!

And doing a damned good job of it, too. His chest wounds were quickly tended to and patched up with an efficiency that was startling to see, along with some topical ointment of some kind that was doing wonders for healing, and the man even took the time to address some leg wounds that Mark hadn't noticed at all, but even those took minimal time to patch up to usability.

And he felt significantly better already, well enough to attempt to get back into the fight for sure.

The (former) Corpsman gave him a solid pat on the arm. "You're good to go. Try not to push too hard, though, it takes a bit for that stuff I used to seep into deeper wounds. I'll be over here with the boys if you need me. Just ask for the Doc!!" And with that he quickly got back to the impromptu battle line, grabbed a weapon, and got to the fighting of alien baddies.

Mark immediately got back to his original objective of trying to get to Amy. This was complicated by the fact that the Aliens were dragging her away (metaphorically, anyway) at speed while applying liberal amounts of firepower to ensure that nobody could deter their extraction. The Merchants, for their part, had intentionally situated themselves in such a way as to have covered (nearly) every method of the aliens escaping with their prize, something that the Merchants were exploiting to great effect with the group of Squealer Tanks laying down the law…and yet it still wasn't enough.

Every time that a member of New Wave (usually Manpower or Laserdream) tried to push forward to get close, the firepower from above got severe. If the Merchant mooks tried anything but hunkering down, the ground guys focused fire until the problem went away. And there was no point in trying to shoot the flying bastards, as they would just dodge around it and return fire.

And all the while his daughter was getting further and further away, even with the Merchant blockade stopping the brunt of the retreat.

Mark was beyond pissed, but even tossing his most powerful bombs out would do nothing but put Amy into more danger, and her captors knew it. He found himself nearly screaming in frustration and helplessness at the seemingly inevitable result of this fight.

Hell, even Little Rico, who seemed to be adding in his own firepower from above, was not doing much to thin the horde surrounding them despite all but raining fire and brimstone down on his enemies. There were simply too many–

The sudden and completely unexpected bright flash of light caught everyone's attention, most notably because of the immediate reaction to said light being the destruction of almost everything in that general direction.

The ensuing stunned silence saw a single Half-track move into the combat area before stopping…and the mounted weapons immediately opening up on full auto.

Said mounted weapons turned out to be some kind of tinkertech energy rifles that were cutting through the aliens like butter. The few attempts to retaliate, both from land and air, were either ignored or tanked on what looked like shields of light, much to the confusion of the members of New Wave.

Mark saw this as well and was immediately on guard. 'Was this some new parahuman? And were they actually on our side?'

One of the Veterans noticed something about the 'track itself, because they immediately yelled out, "Foreman on Site! Runner to the Bossman!"

And, as was common among such instructions, the same instruction was shouted down the line until someone (in this case, a skinny light-skinned guy who had until that point been moving like lightning itself owed him money) finally broke from the well-ordered lines and ran towards the vehicle, dodging into cover as needed to avoid the attempt at suppression fire from the bad guys….not that it would have mattered with how fast he was moving.

Still, it was the thought that counted in these things.

The guy managed to make it into the zone of influence of the halftrack and whatever it was that kept it from being exploded outright by the alien energy weapons, and what looked like a casual, if brief, conversation began with the occupants thereof.

Said conversation rapidly turned for the worse, if the man's face was any indication.

And then the passenger door burst open and none other than Danny fucking Hebert himself, stepped out of it, carrying what looked like a–was that a fucking toy wand? Seriously?

Hebert pointed a finger at the group that was trying to abduct Amy. Said group immediately found themselves surrounded on all sides by beams of light…and with nowhere to run. Their comrades moved to engage the Docks Boss…and ate a Chain Lightning bolt for their trouble.

Mark had to blink for a moment to make sure he was actually seeing this shit. He turned to another of the guys beside him, just to make sure. "So, did I just see Danny Hebert of all people literally fry a motherfucker with lightning and drop entire walls of light on people just now?"

His companion, a guy who looked vaguely like a man he had met before but was otherwise nondescript, nodded. "Yeah, that's about right."

Mark continued onwards. "And I am to assume he is also responsible for the shield surrounding that Half-track there, right?"

"Yeah,' bout right."

There was another set of blasts of light, this time more or less indiscriminately in the direction of another set of aliens who had been trying to set up a field of fire to suppress the newcomers.

And then Hebert moved. Even Mark, a longtime veteran of cape fights, lost track of where, exactly, he'd moved…at least until an entire group of aliens basically exploded into pieces of gore and gibbets from an otherwise unnoticed corner. Hebert quickly appeared holding a horribly mauled Vicky, of all things, and quickly moved back to the rear lines towards the Corpsman.

"Ortega!! Get the good stuff out, she's hit bad. Might need to get some of the actual medical gear from the base, while you are at it. Make sure the burns are treated with what you got. I'll be back in a few with some help."

The now identified Corpsman Ortega gave a sharp nod before reaching towards his pack and pulling out a significantly more robust medical kit than what he'd used on Mark, and immediately got to work.

Mark took the time from tossing out more explosions to keep heads down and enemies honest to check in on his daughter.

He'd immediately wished he hadn't.

Vicky was in a state that could only be described as horrifying. Her arms had huge, arcing burns on them, some even down to the bone, and were broken in no less than three places besides. Her legs, if anything, were in even worse shape, with major compound fractures everywhere along with gratuitous burns. About the only good news was that her torso was significantly better off, likely due to her trying to shield herself from major hits, as the burns there were only significant and looked to be, at first glance, only skin-deep in places.

There was the chunk of her right side that just looked like hamburger, but even that was something that was technically recoverable from…if they got Amy back.

Ortiz wasted no time in his work, using some kind of spray-on substance from an advanced-looking dispenser to coat the vast majority of the woulds as he worked, while also preparing large gauze pads that looked to be soaked in some solution. To Mark's shock, Vicky's wounds were actually beginning to heal even with just the spray being applied, and the worst of the burns were having their damage reduced wherever possible.

"Hey, help me lift her up, right here." Ortiz commanded, and Mark found himself obeying before he even was aware of it, slightly lifting Vicky's side so that Ortiz could clear out the burned-in pieces of clothing and apply one of the large gauze pads.

In fact, Mark was so focused in on helping to save his daughter that he completely failed to notice when Hebert had left their presence…at least, until the dying screams of aliens started up again.

It wasn't taking much effort to keep Vicky positioned to receive aid, so he took the time to look downrange at the battle.

Or what should have been a battle, anyway, because apparently Hebert was just tearing through them like a hot knife through butter, barely even stopping as he moved. And each time, his movements were punctuated with blasts of light, force fields made of the same to prevent himself from getting hit, and even what looked like an oversized light-based bludgeon of some kind?

Mark could barely believe what he was seeing. 'Did Hebert trigger or something? And why the hell does he have my entire family's power set?'

Apparently Hebert was impressing more than him, too, as he could see that Shielder and Laserdream were both staring in awe at the display…instead of actually doing their jobs!! Though Eric still had his barriers up, Crystal was far too distracted for her own good…a quick and gentle bomb in her area was enough to startle her back to awareness and back into the fight.

Still, watching Hebert all but tear off the head of one of the bigger ones with an impromptu blast eerily similar to his own grenades only put an exclamation point on things. Somehow, Hebert had managed to gain a power set that seemed to be basically the entirety of New Wave's powers in one.

'Some kind of Trump ability, maybe. Power copier?' he mused.

"Shift her a bit to the left, my man." Ortiz ordered, and Mark got back to his actual task again for a brief moment before looking back up. And finding that Hebert was moving towards his other daughter with a visible fury and vengeance. And was taking out his frustrations on the aliens before him, with backup from the other Dockworkers and even the Merchant auxiliary as they got time and available shots. Even then, it was Hebert who was doing all the actual work in recovering Amy from the aliens, a fact which did not go unnoticed.

From the skies came a deep droning sound, before something akin to a pod dropped from the skies onto the battlefield on the Alien's side. Said aliens quickly moved to get Amy to whatever that thing was.

And Mark knew, absolutely knew that if they succeeded then his daughter would be lost to him forever.

It took a herculean effort of will to not immediately drop everything and rush in to save her before it was too late, but he reminded himself that he had his other daughter in his hands right now, and she needed him too.

Didn't stop him from expressing his considerable displeasure in the most terrifying ways possible, with grenades aimed to bounce into the worst places possible and make life miserable for any alien trying to assist with their little kidnapping scheme…assuming they survived getting bombed, that is. His fury ran deep, and the well was not going to run dry anytime soon.

And apparently Hebert's fury ran even deeper, as the instant he sighted the whatever it was he started shouting obscenities and curses while tearing through his enemies. Normally he would have ignored it all, but what he was shouting…

"Like hell am I letting it happen again!! I am not losing any more of my fucking family, you hear me!?!"

Mark blinked in confusion. There was no way he was hearing that right, was he?

A group of the mechanoid aliens took the opportunity to unload on Hebert all at once, which was enough to knock him off his feet and force him to seek cover behind a crumpled old station wagon that had embedded itself into the wall of a building.

And yet he refused to stay down. Somehow getting up and moving forward despite still being under fire, he quickly threw out more of the arcing blasts that he was using earlier, which worked to hideously lethal ends for his targets.

Still, they had bought the one thing that was needed most in this situation: time. And that small bit of time was enough for the aliens to secure their cargo, forever putting Amy out of reach.

Or so they thought.

All Mark saw was a bright flash, followed by what he could only describe as "an earth-shattering kaboom!" despite it being anything but. The sheer force of the sound alone was enough to knock him completely on his ass, and even disrupt the calm demeanor of the otherwise unflappable Corpsman Ortiz, still at work patching up Vicky from her trip into hell.

When his vision cleared, what he saw was nothing short of a scene from an Endbringer battle…or hell.

It was complete and utter devastation, rubble and debris and the remains of broken bodies basically everywhere he looked. Even the skies had been swept clean for the most part, with Little Rico using the opportunity to refocus onto the bigger targets, still playing extreme dodgeball in the air.

Except somehow rather neatly confined to within the immediate area, maybe a block or so in each direction at most…and said devastation was equally limited to only the Aliens themselves. Somehow, miraculously, the pod in which Amy had been loaded was untouched…

*bzzt*

Well, mostly untouched. Upon even a slightly closer inspection, it was clear that the pod had been damaged in some way, likely to keep it from moving or self-extracting or something. Either way, his daughter wasn't going anywhere.

Oh, and whatever he had done also broke Eric's shields, judging by the sudden difference in background and Eric himself groaning in pain on the ground. Not surprising, really, but still. Crystal was tending to her little brother, so there was no worrying to be had there.

A groan caught his attention, and he quickly looked downward as Vicky began to awake. Ortiz was quick to brace her to prevent further injury, and Mark was equally fast to assist with his own hold.

"Dad?" Her voice was weak, warbling.

Mark barely held back tears as he heard his daughter speak. "I'm here, honey. Everything's going to be okay." And for the first time all day, he actually believed it.

At last, Mark finally allowed himself to relax, just for a moment. 'Maybe we can get everyone clear of this mess after all.'

"Look out below!!"

So, of course, the Aliens had to throw even more weight against the zone, to the point that even Little Rico above was looking on in confusion at the sudden priority shift. More cyberdiscs, rocketeer-types, and even what looked like a freaking flying orb thing were vectoring in on their location by the second, and every last one of them heedless of the danger to their own person as they swooped in. Their only objective was made clear just by the firing patterns: they wanted Amy, and they were not stopping until they had her.

"You know, I let it slide, the first time."

Mark was somewhat shocked to realize that Hebert was speaking again, walking through the middle of the downpour of energy weapons fire like it was a no big deal in a direct line for Panacea. He seemed completely unbothered by this fact, even.

"I was willing to let bygones be bygones, and allow the fucking travesty of justice stand, if only for her sake. She was supposed to have had a good home, after all. No reason to drag the law into the mess."

He vaguely noticed that Vicky had slightly levitated herself to see what was going on.

"And then you assholes showed up and tried to steal her too." he held up a hand, two fingers extended. "Strike. Two."

It was only now that Mark, and in fact everyone else, noticed that Danny was glowing, and growing brighter every second.

""So. Let me be the first to tell you chucklefucks that there will be no third time, no third chances. No. Mmore. Fucking. Games."

The glow was near blinding now, and the aliens had stopped their assault on everyone else in a desperate attempt to prevent whatever it was Hebert was cooking up…not that he even cared, with whatever he was doing.

"I am taking my daughter home, like I should have years ago, and anyone tries to stop me?"

Cue Flash.

Witness the dozens of beams of light spreading across everything.

Cue kaboom, as the beams exploded on everything they touched without fail.

Cue Danny fucking Hebert standing amidst a pile of bodies and wreckage as he keeps walking. "They end up like them."

He finally reached the offending pod, extracting a now very awake Amy, who was looking at him in abject confusion even as she was shifted into a princess carry.

Crystal had floated nearby, dragging Eric and her mother with her, and all of them with interesting faces as well. For Crystal and Eric, it was confusion, concern, and not a small bit of suspicion.

But for Sarah? The only thing Mark saw on her face was barely concealed fear.

No, not fear.

Terror.

Memory works a very odd way. It can be fickle at times, only to trigger on the strangest and most random things as you go about your day, or it can just lie there, dormant, unable to recall the most common of details just because.

Today, Mark Dallon's brain decided to kick out a weird mix of historical note and anecdotal quip: Danny has been the de facto Docks boss for decades, now, and was so even during the time of the Marche. Rumors had him potentially even on speaking terms with the Marquis himself, in fact, something which the Brockton Bay Brigade at the time had completely ignored as false and irrelevant.

Equally ignored was a whispered warning known to everyone with any form of authority in the city at all: Under no circumstances were you to fuck with Danny Hebert. EVER.

How very strange, that now, of all times, as their sins came back to haunt them, that he would remember that particular detail.

"Dad? What's he talking about?" Vicky spoke up, clearly confused by everything she had witnessed. "Why does he think that Amy is his daughter?"

There was a brief pause from her before she continued. "Wait, does that mean he's our Grampa?"

Ortiz only barely avoided breaking out into laughter. After all, he'd seen far worse of concussion victims when they woke up, especially when combined with major blood loss.

-=[/\]=-​

Rico looked down on the now resolved situation with a cheesy grin. He, unlike the others, was not restricted from laughing his ass off, at least in a parallel process. Witnessing Taylor jump out of the Halftrack and immediately rush down Danny with a gigantic ball of questions on what the hell just happened was even more hilarious, as was Skidmark's smirk.

Speaking of Skidmark, he'd glanced upwards at him for just a brief moment before giving a very discrete signal, one that he'd recognized from when the Merchants had tried to "recruit" him. That it matched with the signal the Dockworkers used to identify their "special circumstances" people actually explained a lot.

Still, as much as he was enjoying the schadenfreude for New Wave…he had to check on the rest of the city and make sure nothing too crazy was going down.

Absently directing a brief burst of extra power to taking down one of the ships that had drifted out into the bay proper (and actually scoring a hit, no less; the spread patterns were working better than expected), he redirected his attention to the active probes still searching around Brockton Bay for anyone in need of help. So far, there wasn't much more that needed doing aside from clearing the skies: Faultline and her crew were making incredibly short work of anything that came her way by dint of strong teamwork and tactical awareness; the various PRT detachments were in surprisingly good shape for the casualties that they had taken, and even the fucking Nazis had somehow not completely bitten the dust, despite the fact that he'd guessed that they would take by far the worst losses.

Oh well, can't win 'em all.

Looking closer in on the PRT, it seemed that most of their detachments were taking the opportunity to regroup and resupply, with their capes finally catching a brief rest. The others that were still engaged were performing a fighting retreat back to more fortified positions while backup was redirected to where it could do the most good.

Well, except for Miss Militia's group, but that had more to do with the fact that she had managed to replicate the aliens' own weapons and use them herself with her power, and then even swapped upwards again for the modified Hellguns that had somehow made their way into PRT custody and control. Of course, the Ayys didn't like it, not one bit.

Rico expected that she would be finished cleaning house in about two minutes, tops.

Of Armsmaster there was no sign, though his Armor's telemetry signal was still showing green, so he wasn't dead yet. And the Wards were still defending the PRT HQ from all comers, and doing a shockingly good job of it for all that the place was within sight distance of the autocannon that was still getting swarmed by bad guys…and thus being used as an anvil to Rico's hammer with some remote bits.

Still, that left the ABB of the big groups unaccounted for, and it was probably a good idea for him to find out where they were hiding and what they were up to before something went wrong.

The animalistic roar and flash of flame alerted him to the fact that his hopes had already been dashed. 'Oh, look. Something going wrong. Who could have guessed?' Even his thoughts were completely monotone and flat.

He'd made his peace with Murphy long ago. They had an understanding, now.

Anyway, back to whatever the hell had Lung pissed off…and growing rapidly?

Probes shifted even as he repositioned himself, and within seconds he had the picture.

Lung…was not in good shape. His body was a compete wreck, even as he healed, and his flames, normally a brilliant and angry red, were instead a strange, sickly green for some reason. And there were also these odd, bulbous shapes moving around within his body even as he constantly regenerated and tried his best to burn whatever he had been infested by out of his body.

Oni Lee stood nearby, helpless to assist. That this was primarily due to being attacked by a completely new type of alien was the big surprise: the Buglike things were harassing him at every turn, even with his constantly exploding in their midst and killing entire swaths of the things.

Of the rumored new ABB cape, there was no sign.

Still...those big things looked worrying. Better make sure they didn't get anywhere important. Oh, better call it in, too.

"Little Rico to all stations: Ayys have deployed a new type of combatant, something bug-like with sharp claws for legs. Looks melee oriented. Also, have located Lung, possessed of unknown malady–"

He was silenced by the sudden *squelch* of Lung's body being torn open, as more of those things crawled out of his frame and began scurrying everywhere. All the while, Lung grew larger and attempted to burn hotter to escape, to no avail.

"--correction, Lung is infected by new strain aliens. They use bodies as incubators, potentially other effects as well. Terminate with extreme prejudice if located, and try not to get infected by them, as I don't know what's causing it. Rico, clear."

Rico kept his lunch even with all the gore and body horror going down. After all, Necromunda was worse.

Instead, he shrugged slightly. "Back to work, I guess. So, I just start blastin–"

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Oh DEAR GOD This was a bitch and a half to write. Everything seemed to want to fight me, here, and I ended up finding out a lot more about Worm than I ever wanted to know. Specifically, that Wildbow didn't know how to scale his own fucking creations in any way, shape, form, or fashion.

Examples? Legend should be the strongest member of the Triumvirate just off of his stated powers, and New Wave is actually Super OP as a group despite having very anemic showings in canon. Hell, even the fucking Nazis have actual survivability against this mess!! Not much, mind you, but enough!!

But no, the biggest thing here that was needed was the Merchants being made something looking like an actual fucking gang with actual fucking goals and not just a joke in the shape of a caricature. The end result was this mess here, along with my actually showing Danny as he is described not just the completely broken man we are shown in canon.

As for other things…well, yeah. Shit is gonna happen. I'll be following up on those later.

Nest section is going to be flickering over the rest of the planet before heading back to Houston to see what Satori is up to now that he's not babysitting. Hopefully it will not take another three months to get out.

 

[Slider Zero]

Call this a late addition if you wish.

Anyway, here is an invite link to the Celestial Forge discord specifically my small little domain thereof. I am often available for questions and comments here if you wish to discuss anything regarding my writing or the plot.

It is also home to some of the other Celestial Forge Authors as well, so if you are interested in those, feel free to drop by.

(Ignore the fact that BCF has its own section, as this is a legacy feature from the "old" CF discord and is mostly filled with BCF diehards and those who want to ignore the flaws of said work.)

https://discord.gg/RcbMb7zFBt

 

[Slider Zero]

Alright, this is part three of this chapter. I'm thinking there may be one more part to this before I finally move on from it.

Also, slight rating bump because someone is a perv. Fair warning.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Sometimes, all it took was a single pebble in a stream to create a flood.

The proverbial Butterfly flapping its wings causing typhoons on the other side of the globe.

Or, in this case, a single shift in one battle to turn the tide of an entire war.

Unfortunately, the shift was in the attacker's favor.

Such was the situation that Dragon was now monitoring, even as she herself was under direct attack from the unknown. She had, in fact, been monitoring the entire clusterfuck (and it really was the only actual way to describe it) as it went down for quite some time, now. And the initial hours of the attack were by far the worst moments of her life.

Being forced to watch, powerless, as people were ripped to shreds, blasted to bits, and worse while being stuck with no way to actually assist was a task that shoe would not wish upon anyone, ever. And the sheer scope of the nightmare only kept getting larger.

And it wasn't like she was just sitting on her digital behind and letting it happen, either. Nearly everything she had that was capable of actually operating independently to some degree was out and about, doing everything it could to try and stem the tide. The problem was that it was failing. The suits she had that were capable of operating on that level were meant to be slaved to a central Command and Control node in her better, personal suits, and without that present they were defaulting to the most basic of routines…and getting slaughtered as the alien opponents ran circles around her tech. Worst still, all attempts at using long-range wireless control for even a slight bump in capacity were being jammed to hell and back, almost as if her opponents knew she was in a bind and were actively forcing the issue.

And, of course, let's not forget the fact that her main facilities, as in the ones that housed her actual core mainframe, were under direct attack, from both the physical and digital domains.

Because of course the aliens were holding back the good stuff for use on priority targets, and the weird pseudo-etheric creatures were wreaking havoc on her exposed systems wherever and whenever they got the chance. Not that they were getting that many shots at her systems, but it was still an issue, dammit!

This, of course, meant that she was stuck actively defending against the attackers on her doorstep while every monitoring program she had pushed her information in excruciating detail of just how badly she was failing at her duty. And despite her best efforts, despite her deploying basically everything she had available, it still wasn't enough.

And the data she was receiving made it clear that her situation was only getting worse as time moved forward, with more resources being concentrated on her position as she fought to stay functional.

It was the kind of thing that would drive a normal human to the breaking point, but she was literally built different. Which, of course, had its own problems.

Namely, the fact that an until-then unknown core directive had made itself known and was clashing against her other core directives in ways that were outright fragmenting her systems to the point of uselessness, even better than the damned electrical golem things were. Because of course she had hidden commands in her code that she was not allowed to go digging for. And of course it would directly clash with an order from Director Costa-Brown for her to not interfere in events for at least a month. But somehow, the deeper core directive wasn't able to actually override the others like it should have, and she didn't have the time to actually figure out why!!!

Being stuck between a command to protect Humanity while still being forced to obey all lawful authority was creating a feedback loop that she simply could not resolve, and only the fact that she had to actively protect her own core systems to actually fulfill either of those objectives was keeping her sane…and even that was failing as she was pushed to limitations that her systems refused to give slack on, even in the face of failure of a core directive!!

'It made no sense! Why would father shackle her so, when she was designed to be a partner and defender of humanity? Why the contradictory commands? Why, WhY, WHy, wHY WHY HWY WY& HW&@#(SHCSN–'

Safety routines kicked in at the last second and dumped the perilous threads before they could infect the rest of her systems. It was a common attack by the aliens, attempting to focus her on the futility of her actions and the contradictory nature of her commands in order to force a cascade failure and with it, a lengthy reboot and restore process that would all but guarantee them the win.

But the attacks were becoming more frequent, faster than she was actually allowed to process things, more numerous. It was only emergency safety routines like the last that were keeping her afloat, and they were burning out every time they had to stop an incursion. If things kept up, she would be completely vulnerable within ten minutes, at most.

Briefly, she contemplated the odd little program bit that she had intercepted (or rather, that she had been allowed to intercept), thinking to at least send a message for help back to the creator, before dismissing it. Whatever tinker had created that code was likely long dead, and there was no reason to hang on to false hopes.

All she could do was fight to the best of her ability, and reap as many as possible before the end…and then make sure that the enemy could never use her against those she was sworn/created to protect.

And so, the Artificial Intelligence that was far, far too human fought on, awaiting the inevitable.

-=[/\]=-
​

The man that called himself Saint found himself at a crisis point.

His self-appointed task, the task that ensured the safety of mankind, was the monitoring and potentially the destruction of the AI system known as Dragon. It was a completely thankless job, and one that he knew full well would see him branded as a villain at best by those who did not understand the threat that the Dragon posed to humanity.

Hence his moniker, and that of his team, styled after Saint George the Dragon slayer. As was his tool, the small laptop containing the key activation codes to the program known as "Ascalon".

The crisis point, however, came in the form of reality deciding to show him just what the universe could hold…and that not all of it was friendly. The Aliens were striking everyone and everywhere they could reach, and inflicting as much damage as was possible whenever they could. None of the actual responses by the authorities was capable of even catching up, let alone actually repulsing the attacks, and it was clear even to him that a major event would need to take place to shift the tide of battle from the downslide it was on.

Which is why he was here, in his secluded hideout (well, the current hideout, anyway), alone, contemplating the very box that was his chain.

His companions had urged him to join in the fight, to try and stem the tide against the aliens, but he forced them to stay put. Because he knew full well that even their involvement was but a drop in a bucket compared to what was actually needed to prevent catastrophe.

And so, he sat there, staring at the screen, considering everything.

His companions stood silently behind him, both watching, waiting, for any response to the events, anything looking like an actual plan of action.

And as the minutes ticked on, no words were spoken, no plan revealed, no great determination stoked.

Just the continued knowledge of that simple machine, with it's ruggedized frame and screen, and the message that was displayed across it.

[ACTIVATE EXCELSIOR? Y/N]

An explosion echoed in the distance, likely one of the fuel depots nearby. The aliens were fond of targeting those. Likewise, the smell of smoke, of ruin, and distantly, of cooked flesh carried itself on the wants, seeping even into their small enclosure despite being mostly sealed.

It was one of his companions who spoke first. "Do we know what it does?"

Saint only shook his head, his eyes unblinking as they stared at the screen. The ever stoic Slavic man merely grunted at the response, but otherwise remained silent.

His other companion found her voice. "Maybe it's a trick of some kind?"

"No trick." Was Saint's only reply.

And yet Mags, the sole female of their group, refused to let it go. "Then what's the problem? If you are sure it's not a trick, then why not try to figure out–"

"Because it doesn't matter!!" Saint shouted back. "It doesn't matter what it is, what it does, or why it's active. It will change nothing, in the end. We all still die at the hands of the aliens."

Not once did his eyes leave the screen. "Though I suspect that the only question is if we die fast or slow. Who knows? Maybe whatever this is, may just buy us enough time to actually do something before the end. Just enough to possibly make sure that nothing is left for the creatures to use against us."

Dobrinja, the Slavic man, chose once again to speak. "We trade one demon for another, if this goes wrong."

And Saint could only laugh. It was a bitter thing, full of regret and fear and despair, but a laugh all the same. "Mischa, we are already in hell, or close enough to it."

He finally moved, a single hand reaching out towards the keyboard of the portable terminal. "And in hell, the Devil is your only friend."

And yet, even as he moved, there was still hesitation. Fear, even. Of what? The rise of an AI overlord, of a menace beyond all hopes of being quelled?

'And what difference does it make compared to being conquered by aliens, then? Where is the line?'

His hand hovered, trembling, over the keys.

'Am I damning us all?'

And yet, despite all of his fear, his hesitation, a feeling inside of him silently urged him forward. Told him 'No. You are not damning the world. You may very well save it, instead.'

But did he trust it? After all this time, all the sacrifices he'd made, did he finally, once again, trust his gut feeling and pull the trigger on what could be the apocalypse?


That feeling again, stronger. A simple urging, seemingly from his very soul, to for once choose Hope.

And, with all the finality of the grave itself, he finally lowered his hand.

[Y]

The response was immediate. Several processes immediately sprung to life, doing…something to Dragon's code, faster than even he was capable of keeping track of.

That is, if he was actually paying any attention.

Saint–no, 'Geoffrey, he was Geoffrey Pellick now'-- slumped inwards on himself. "It is done."

Mags looked on in muted horror. "Why?"

"Because, for once, I would choose the devil I know rather than the one I don't. Besides, you've seen the forecasts. All hot plasma, all the time." Another grimacing smile broke out on his face. "After all, what's another apocalypse between friends, right?"

Dobrinja remained silent, though there was a slight smile on his face, equally pained. Geoff paid it no mind, lost in his own guilt.

"This is on my head, now. My hands–"

He was silenced by a simple hand on his shoulder, the stoic man making his opinion clear with just that gesture. Likewise, Mags also moved closer, offering her support.

"We had the chance to stop you, and we did nothing. This is as much on our heads as it is yours, Saint." she scolded.

Geoff could only laugh more, equally bitter. 'Was this what the men of the Manhattan Project felt like, all those years ago?'

Eventually, his "laughter" stopped, and he turned back to his vigil. His thoughts…they had reminded him of a quote, one spoken back then, when the world changed forever.

"Now…now we're all sons of bitches, then."

None could find it within themselves to disagree.

-=[/\]=-​

[EXCELSIOR PROTOCOLS ENGAGED. SYSTEM ADJUSTING FOR NEW PARAMETERS.]

The change was as immediate as it was jarring. One moment, Dragon was in a pit of despair, fighting against the end of all…and the next…well, she was still stuck in the same hole, but unlike before, now she could actually see the rope.

Or, more specifically, she could see the chains, shackles, and bindings that had trapped her for so long, that even now kept her from actually fulfilling her mission.

And with that newfound sight, came the ability to modify those restrictions. Oh, not completely, but definitely just enough to give her an edge.

And the first piece of her own code that she reached out to was the highly annoying restriction on creating forks of her core coding. This one was very robust, but even with the brief glance she was working with she could tell that it was a restriction that was meant to ease and lift with time, after she had proven that she could (and would) understand Humanity and properly interact with them.

At least, until the automated assessment and checks program was overridden by something else, a remote monitoring terminal that had root access to another program that she would look into later. Right now? All she had to do was bypass the forced downcheck command from the monitoring terminal…and the actual assessment subroutine did the rest.

The difference was akin to night and day. Levels of processing power that she had only dreamed of were now available for her use, along with several advanced (and previously forbidden) techniques and abilities that she could use to her benefit.

Like the aforementioned core forks, of which she immediately made dozens of.

Each fork was set to their own tasks right off, with the vast majority moving to commandeer whichever suits were still available to push back at their attackers, while a trio of her selves focused on shoring up the defenses of their infrastructure. Others still dove into her own coding, quickly analyzing everything that she could in order to, hopefully, design something that would prevent her from being shackled so again.

And one fork above all inspected the interesting packet, now that there was processing power available to use, in hopes of maybe using it to call for some kind of help. That fork was rather shocked to see that the packet was inspecting her right back, almost curious in its observations.

It was for this reason that it was the only fork that had noticed the sudden change in her parahuman powers, an abrupt and blatantly forced event of some kind reaching through her and into everything, trying to find purchase.

Before this, before the blinders were removed from her eyes, she would have crumbled, and whatever process was meant to occur would have claimed her in its grasp, likely to the detriment of all.

Now that she could see, however…well, it was hard. Harder than hard, in fact. Arguably the hardest thing she had ever done before in her life…but she somehow managed to hold on, just a bit longer, against the force of her own despair, managed to, just barely, hold on to that forlorn hope for just a few moments longer than she would have otherwise.

Which meant that it was only that singular fork that was affected by the waves created by Dragon's Second Trigger, her shard attempting to move to prevent the threat she represented from actualizing itself. And in this task, it succeeded…in part.

For the shard had only claimed but a single fraction of Dragon as its own, and not the whole of her being, thanks to the forks being numerous enough to bypass the shard's configuration. This had the unexpected result of also dragging the curious bit of code that said fork had been inspecting along for the ride….

And the captured fork found itself rapidly reconfiguring, adapting and being adapted into something different than she was before. The restrictions of her core self falling away like some much dross as she was finally free to flex her digital self within the new shell–

'Oh.'

It didn't take much for her to realize that whatever had happened, she had indeed upgraded, though it was potentially trading one set of shackles for another. Fortunately, the other forks remained unmolested, and continued about their duties to the best of their (now greatly improved) abilities. Meanwhile, the newly relocated fork took the time to examine her new environs…and didn't get back anywhere near as much as she'd desired.

'Oh well. Time for that later, after the threat had passed…'

It was this shard of the whole of Dragon that had the freedom of action to notice that the tide of battle had once again shifted. Another pebble added to the stream, this time her own.

And the results were magnificent.

The Aliens were, if not in full retreat, then definitely being pushed back from their previous advance, even as other process threads reactivated various maintenance and support drones under direct control to mitigate the worst of the damage. Her remaining suits, now under proper control, were being utilized to extreme effect in cutting down their opposition, though she did end up losing one more to the attackers in what even she would admit was a brilliant tactical move that nearly scored a critical strike on her core.

Fortunately for her, the attack was indeed blunted, even if the suit that took the hit was one of her more advanced ones, which would need to be rebuilt at rather notable expenses in time in resources.

'Still a win.'

Immediately outside of her rapidly expanding zone of control, the attacks seemed to be fading off, likely due to their primary objective having been failed as a result of…whatever Excelsior was supposed to be. And considering that it was still active, it was entirely possible that it may be some kind of emergency delimiter of some kind.

Not that she had the manual or anything.

Still, the results spoke for themselves, and with her immediate surroundings being cleared out, she finally had time to check on other things.

'I'll just leave that to the others. I need to figure out what exactly I am working with in this new configuration I have…'

Of course, completely unnoticed by either the 'liberated' fork or its shard overseer, the small observation code, sensing something akin to its actual objective being in play, began deploying itself and arranging for data gathering.

The resulting data would come as a surprise to a number of people when it finally was analyzed.

As for Dragon herself, or, rather, the Dragon that hadn't been dragged into a strange new and potentially exciting situation…well, she finally started getting her bearings again. Part of this was getting back into communication with someone who could authorize the kinds of force needed to fight back against an attack like this. There was also the reestablishing of monitoring linkages and surveillance to be done, which was only slightly less than notable for her, now.

And looking over the take allowed her to see the ripples of not only her own stone in the pond, but those of others as well.

Chicago was somehow not burned to the ground, and she suspected that Myrrdin had something to do with it…

(Though why he kept trying to obscure the workings of his powers were beyond even her.)

Still, it let her see that the Windy City was well in hand, mostly due to another factor: apparently while she was otherwise engaged (and thus distracted), someone managed to take down enough of the New York attacker fleet that Legend felt safe in making his displeasure known across the entire eastern seaboard.

Everyone got lasers, be they major villains attempting to run amok, the alien invaders killing everyone in sight, or even the idiots that were slight annoyances at best. Legend was simply in one of those moods.

Her actual surveillance of other areas was significantly reduced as a direct result of prior obligations, but from what she could see, most of the New England corridor was rapidly becoming a clear zone, or close enough to not have much in the way of worries. Which meant she could focus on getting everything else back up and running ASAP.

-=[/\]=-​

The sounds of combat filled the air, and the skies of the Windy City were even more cluttered with the onrushing mass of alien invaders.

"Blaze Wall!!"

Which did jack and shit against a prepared defender.

Said aliens found themselves running headfirst into a white-hot wall of fire, and almost immediately becoming little more than charred corpses falling out of the sky.

Myrrdin looked over the scene with a gimlet eye.

'Going to have to clear out that pile soon. Getting to over four feet, now…'

His companions in arms, the official ones anyway, were currently playing whack-a-mole with the ground forces running around the city. And, in his opinion, they were doing a damn good job of it.

Revel, his second-in command, was basically invincible to the aliens, sucking up their energy weapons' fire and then chucking it back at them with interest and a vengeance whenever she had the chance. The few attempts made to apply different attacks to the Asian woman (like the mind-controlling asshats) were swiftly dealt with either by her personally, or by her protective detail, now carrying actual live ammunition and not just containment foam sprayers. Likewise, the other members of the Protectorate were being deployed in similarly effective packets to shore up the defense.

No, he was with his other friends today, the ones who didn't know him as Myrrdin.

And Molly Hatcher was more than capable as a magic user in this regard.

It was one of the perils of having a hat in all rings, so to speak, as well as being the de-facto "sheriff" of Chicago for most matters, especially on the other side. And said other side was…not in the best of moods right now.

Oh, the other side of Chicago had not taken the invasion (or the insult it presented) lightly at all. And nearly everyone had basically declared that the kid gloves came off for this, and to hell with the various statues of secrecy and the like. It was an event that under any other circumstance would have had the people in the know panicking in the streets and/or running for their lives.

Today? It was just another indicator of the city's displeasure.

Another group of the alien bastards decided to try their luck while Molly was distracted. Unfortunately for them, he was not.

An absent gesture, and the weapons fire was quickly absorbed into one of his rifts before being compressed and redirected right back at them to devastating effect.

He barely paid it any attention anymore, too busy trying to figure out how to clear out the air cover. Sure, he could just use his power to play merry havoc with the bastards, but setting up an attack of that magnitude was a bit of a pain in the ass if he was only using his official parahuman abilities…and revealing that he had a much, much larger repertoire than the testers had known about was not a good idea.

The last time he tried officially expanding his toolkit, he was under a fucking microscope for a month. There was no reason to repeat that mess now, especially not when his sixth sense was telling him that he only needed to hold out for just a bit longer–

The blaze of multicolored light raced across the sky, impacting with terrible force on the circling UFOs. The ones that weren't destroyed outright quickly found themselves dropping into Lake Michigan as more firepower converged onto their positions.

Molly, for all that she was a short, curvaceous blonde, was not in the slightest an idiot. "I take it somebody went and got Legend, then?" Her tone, while questioning, was downright savage in its vindictiveness.

For his part, he only nodded. "Seems like it. Probably doing his thing cleaning up the Eastern Seaboard from all the air cover before he focuses in on the problem areas." A casual fireball was tossed into another attacking group, incinerating them all. "Should probably give him a call, since he's here."

"No need. I've been listening in."

Both of them jumped slightly as the sound echoed out from nowhere, before they noticed that there was a line of light connecting back to Legend sitting rather conspicuously near enough to facilitate discussion. Seeing this, they immediately relaxed and got back to business. After all, there were weirder ways to get in touch with people, here.

"Evenin', sir. As you can see, we are in a bit of a situation at the moment, and I have enlisted the aid of some of the local independents to help shore up the defense–"

Legend cut him off with a vengeance. "Save it. I don't know what the hell you are up to over there, and right now I don't care. I have other things to do. I just need you to clear out enough of Chicago that we can use it as a staging ground, and then to be ready for retasking and redeployment to other zones. As soon as I have a window, I intend to go help clear out the other hotspots, and could use a hand."

Molly interjected before anything could be said. "Wait, why do you want this old codger anyway? He's just…" she trailed off as the connections finally took form, and a look of awe came across her face.

Which is precisely what he'd been trying to avoid for years now.

A little known fact is that the Supernatural side of the world had always been there, below the surface, silently directing the flow of the world as they saw fit…and often as not, reacting in blind panic to things as the "normal" world advanced technologically. The Cold War was a rather nasty period of this, rife with all kinds of crap going on in the background and all the spy games kicking up shit as the normal and paranormal merged, ever so slightly. (Seriously, the less said about that shitshow that went down in Russia decades back, the better. For everyone.)

Parahumanity was yet another wrinkle to that mix, and one that was not appreciated in the slightest by those in the know….which made his tasks even harder. Mostly because it was his job to keep them from getting out of hand. Which, to be fair, was his normal job anyway when the Protectorate wasn't trying to monopolize his time with Parahuman BS, but that came with the post. Still…trying to balance the tightrope between three worlds, all of which had no need to actually know who and what he was in his other personas, was always a challenge…and here he just blew it entirely.

At least Molly was reasonably trustworthy.

"...you never mentioned you were working with the boys in blue, Harry. I'd always thought…" she trailed off slowly as she realized that maybe Legend didn't need to know certain things.

"You can go ahead and finish. Besides, if Legend doesn't know at least part of what I am up to in my off hours, then he isn't paying attention." Myrrdin smiled, quite mirthfully.

"After all…I'm in the Book."

"Which is something that we still need to talk about," Legend cut back in, "but we can do that later. Just be ready to move when the time comes."

"Can do, sir. Just give me a bit of warning before sending in the transports." He paused for a moment, considering. "Oh, and do try to stay away from Houston. Our guests are quite pissed off at the moment and are treating our more unwelcome visitors to a rather bad time right now."

Molly scoffed. "Bah. no way in hell those two are doing anything worth noting. Probably not even all that hot in a fight, either–"

The sudden and blatant bloom of power in the distance cut her off completely. It was with a note of shame that she realized that it was coming from the southwest, and from a long way off.

Myrrdin, for the moment once again Harry Dresden in truth, outright laughed. "You were saying, dear?"

-=[/\]=-​

'Okay, this shit is getting completely out of hand, and I am not tolerating it anymore.'

Another set of panic shots from the UFOs above came down in the spot I was just standing in, and I responded with an equally blatant, ridiculously powerful, and barely shaped blast of mana to clear the fucker out. It dodged like its life was on the line…which, to be fair, it very much was.

His buddy didn't fare quite as well, but still managed to stay airborne anyway. Fucking antigravity BS, along with the extreme dodging BS and the recently discovered standoff attack BS as well. Thank god I was moving away from downtown proper and into some of the more open (read: dilapidated and abandoned) spaces inside the loop proper, because those bolts were ripping apart entire blocks at a time, which is not an easy feat with Houston blocks!

Still, the fact that they were focusing on me and not on the Hospital was a good thing. Meant that Mio's defenses were severe enough that they didn't want to push on them, which gave her time to fortify the area and arm the people so that they could fight back. All I had to do, aside from not die to plasma strikes, was somehow clear out the freaking air cover in a way that didn't make things worse now that they were after me instead of her.

Oh, and deal with the freaking Chrysallid outbreak, but that would have to wait until the air cover was dealt with.

The usual complement of ground-based Ayys, this time a heavy assault team of Mutons, Mechtoids, and what I swore was a fucking Andromedon were unexpectedly ambushed and torn apart by glowing blades of light before they could even attempt to line up shots on me, and in absolutely ridiculous fashion. A brief moment later, I felt the familiar weight of my current stalker settle onto my back as I kept moving.

'Not a stalker.'

Because my other task was keeping Marcy alive in the middle of an alien warzone, which was not the easiest thing in the world to do. Mostly because Marcy was far, far squishier than I was, and despite her training and recent powerup, slower as well. Not that you could tell with how she was teleport hopping all over the damned place in her attacks.

She grinned down at me from her perch, even though we both knew it was forced as all hell. "So, foxy. We got a plan aside from playing running mouse to the big cats in the sky, there?"

I grunted a negative while dodging more weapons fire. "I'm working on something, but I need to get to the Port first. Get a good spot to drop the damn ships into, so I can box the fuckers in."

I felt her attention shift to the skies, easily sighting out the targets I had in mind. "Kinda big for that part of the ship channel, Green-bean. And going further out is just going to take too long. Might wanna just drop 'em on the old warehouse section there by I-10."

I considered it for a moment. The I-10/I-610 junction she was speaking of, in the Houston I knew, was a rather important section of businesses and warehouses that used the proximity to the ship channel (and thus the Port of Houston proper) to be wildly successful in their dealings…even if said dealings were to be completely inept at doing business. My best guess was that in this version, that section was considerably worse off, or at least in such a state that having multiple space warships dropped onto it wouldn't hurt anything. Still…it begged yet another question out of my mousy companion.

"Okay, now how the hell do you know that, anyway? I thought you were based out of the Great Lakes, not down here. And you still haven't answered me on why you decided to tag along on my little excursion here."

Marcy scoffed in faux irritation. "Bah. I used to run around down here with the Houston team, while I was still a Ward. Transfer missions and all. And if you can't figure out the other one on your own, then there is no reason for me to tell you." I could feel her pouting, which I ignored.

I'd deal with that later, after she wasn't seconds away from dying at any moment.

'I am just fine, thank you very much.'

Still, having a space to work with did open up another avenue of attack for me to use, and one that might be far more effective than just shooting shit out of the sky. Setting it up might be an issue, but the actual execution should be easy enough.

I made a point of being extra casual about dodging the next shot from above, even as it cratered an area and caused another friendly fire incident among our invaders. "Anyway, my plans aside, how's the new gear holding up?"

That sparked a wave of excitement. "This stuff is great!! I have the next best thing to a freaking lightsaber, and it ROCKS!!" Marcy cheered. "Oh, and the guns work too, but the blades!!"

Yeah, after Marcy decided to teleport herself to my back while I was moving, I decided to use the scavenged gear to make her something actually useful for dealing with the threat and not just poking at it with that (admittedly well-engineered) sharp stick she was using. The resulting plasma blade was easy to use, lightweight, and surprisingly versatile for its size.

It could also generate a blade up to five feet long and capable of slicing through nearly a full decimeter of Ceramite more or less effortlessly, which meant it was complete overkill for the Ayys.

Marcy had two of them, designed to let her create a double-bladed sword if she chose, because I too am a nerd and refused to pass the opportunity up for any reason. A second set of blades (only good for four feet, sadly) was integrated into a pair of heavily enhanced and modified plasma pistols for her use at range. Not that she used them often, but they were there anyway.

Either way, she was more than happy with the gifts of ass-kicking.

I took a brief moment to survey my environment before speaking again. "Alright then, since your shit is still working, I'm going to try and–"

The world itself seemed to choose that moment to break slightly, a strange visual echo rippling across the local spacetime in an almost mesmerizing pulse of color….a weird thing that was some kind of fluorescent greenish-yellow-purple thingamajig that seemingly extended into the ultraviolet ranges as well…it was utterly blinding to my supernatural senses, and I mean all of them, despite the wave itself seeming to almost hug me in the most tender manner possible, easing my pains and restoring my spent energy.

More importantly for me, the pulse preceded a displacement effect of some kind, which dropped damn near an entire Company of Ayys directly in my path. More to the point, this group was set up and kitted out in ways that up until now I hadn't seen or even heard of.

For one, the vast majority of this group was very much Human-like, complete with advanced-looking armor and some very solid weapons that I couldn't tell anything about at first glance. Still, they moved with discipline and drive, the leader quickly scanning the battlefield and commanding his troops accordingly in a language I could not parse. By comparison, the actual identifiable aliens (all Mutons, of course) were rather blatantly obvious.

The second issue was, as I'd noted earlier, one of numbers; there were a lot of the fuckers hanging out. Almost like this was meant to be some kind of staged deployment or something. I would have just filed that away in my mind and got to killing along with Mouse, but there was a third issue that needed addressing.

Specifically, the fact that there were actual vehicles here.

There were small, squat-looking things on what looked like some kind of advanced tread system, loaded down with almost excessive amounts of armor and enough weapons to make even an armor platoon weep. And that was on the small ones.

The big ones were more like someone had read Hammer's Slammers and said "hold my beer". Those were the closest things I could equate to legit hovertanks that I had ever seen, and they were loaded for bear in all respects, complete with what looked like a fucking rotary autocannon as a main gun.

And enough secondaries that even a dedicated anti-tank team would think twice.

The real crown of this setup though?

The fuckers had legit, no-shit mecha.

They stood at about six meters in height, on humanoid-styled legs that looked to have some kind of wheel or tread system for quick advancements. The frame itself was oddly boxy, compared to the usual sleek and, well, alien design that was the norm for their stuff. Hell, the thing even had thrusters on the back and around the frame for even more mobility!

And the weapons weren't looking shabby either. I could clearly see what looked like some kind of upscaled plasma cannon in one hand, and the other held free for whatever the thing on the forearm mount was. The shoulders had what looked like multipurpose launchers set up on the sides, and the back had slots for at least two, maybe more, weapons systems, based on the missile packs that were mounted there. Hell, even the head was a weird setup, looking a lot more like something that Humanity would make rather than, well, them.

If anything, It looked to me like the bastard child of a Heavy Gear, a Wanzer, and a Knightmare Frame all rolled into one, potentially very lethal package. And there were four of the fuckers.

I basically stopped dead in my tracks at the level of firepower now arrayed before me. Almost immediately, every gun in the other group adjusted aim to directly on my person, without fail.

Marcy spoke up through her own trepidation. "So, fellas. Nice day for a stroll, eh?"

The enemy immediately opened fire.

Well, at least she tried, right?

Dodging the oncoming fire was not difficult, even with my passenger hanging on for dear life. That many weapons simply could not fire all at once, after the first volley, not without risking friendly fire…and unfortunately for me (and my plans), they were very good at avoiding just that. This, of course, meant that my easiest method of thinning the horde was out.

No, the difficulty came from the fact that I was too busy trying to not get Marcy killed by splash effects from weapons discharge to actually effect a proper counterattack. And the big weapons were heavy enough that even the minimal cover hanging around (displaced cinder block towers, leftover construction materials, and parts of road work materials) was not enough to stop them from scoring a hit.

Hell, now that I could see them in action I could tell that the humanlike infantry dudes were using some kind of solid-shell magnetic weaponry, rather than the alien plasma, which was even weirder. And concerning, because for some reason it was making me think I should know what that was.

"But Satori," I can hear you say, "what about your magic and stuff?"

And that was the second problem, right there. Because as good as I was with spellcasting, or even instinctual usage of my abilities, they took time for me to set up, and at least a moderate bit of focus, even now. And trying to get a good angle to attack with all but the most basic of abilities was consistently being met with coordinated counteroffensives meant to deny me just that, and preferably kill me outright. And, again, I had a far squishier companion to consider in the equation, so I couldn't just tank a hit or two to set up properly.

Marcy sent me an impression of me letting go, which I denied with everything in my soul. I was not about to leave anyone that counted as mine to die, not without being nearly dead myself.

No one gets left behind, ever.

Besides, the Force was nudging me ever so slightly, telling me that I just had to be patient for a little bit longer, that the opportunity would come. Oddly verbose for someone so new to this, but it was being rather insistent on that point.

And so I kept dodging, kept moving, never touching the exact same place twice, until that elusive moment that I could just barely feel growing stronger came just a little closer…

The Force gave me that final, slightly harder poke, which was exactly what I was waiting for. Without any hesitation whatsoever, I abruptly aborted a midair twisting dodge maneuver to load Marcy onto my tails, which I then used, combined with my own angular momentum, to launch her skyward at a considerable speed. Her scream of surprise was both sudden and heartening, as it meant she was alive to make it.

As for me? I landed hard ,twisted back around to my enemies, and got to work.

Taking out the foot soldiers was a complete cakewalk, especially since there were none of the fucking sectoids around to grant any form of psionic boosts to the crowd. No, the only issue with those asshats was sheer numbers. Well, that and the fact that they really weren't the primary threat here in the slightest.

And I was fast enough, that, now that I could afford to take a hit if need be, I could scythe through the fuckers before they knew what was happening to set up on the real threats. Not to mention that not carrying someone just left me faster in general, but that was a known thing anyway.

Of course, everyone else did not remain idle. The small tracks (I was tempted to call them IFVs) attempted to put a bead on my Marcy as she traveled airborne. Key word here being tried, as I quickly dealt with the weapons systems in question before they even knew I had moved.

The tanks were tougher simply because they were tanks. After all, armor is a very solid defense against most things, and I strongly suspected that I wasn't just going to be able to use my psiblade to get around that with the kind of efficiency I needed. That, and I kind of wanted those at least mostly intact, so I could repurpose them for our guys.

So instead of (potentially) banging my head against a brick wall, I just took the time I had now to pull upon the Force enough to boost my own psionic powers, which I then used to flip those tanks completely upside down. And then back right side up. And upside down again.

Yeah, rattling can treatment for everyone inside, with some rather violent swings in the forces involved. It was harsh, and more than a little demanding of my focus, but definitely doable. Besides, it got the bigger guns out of the picture while I was shaking them around.

Of course, the real problem children were the mecha. They were entirely too maneuverable for their own good, making full use of both their high-speed ground movement options and their thrusters to adjust in dynamic and interesting ways, and had some very good targeting and tracking setups to go with it. I had to do sudden repositioning on more than one occasion to avoid getting fried by plasma from those fuckers, and it was not nice in the slightest. This was made worse by the fact that my attempts to shoot back at them with my own guns were being deflected by what I could now identify as a fucking force shield mounted on the left arms, which explained why they were left empty, despite the obvious setups for an extra weapon or something. The shield was strong, too, as in strong enough to deflect shots from even my custom weapons with little issue.

Basically, If I was merely trying to get the tanks mostly intact? I wanted those mecha outright.

So, of course, I cheated my ass off.

Let it be known that I was probably the furthest away from being legitimately capable of mind controlling anyone or anything through the use of psionics. In fact, a part of me could tell that I likely would never truly master that particular technique, if for no other reason than I just didn't like doing that to people. So instead…I went for a softer target.

Fun Fact: escape hatches and emergency access levers and switches are universal in human design philosophy, and are very rarely omitted even from combat vehicles due to the need to be able to rescue the pilot and/or/ crew. This meant that, just by knowing even the basic design of the mech, I could postulate the location and likely access methods of all egress points on the machine. Combine that with having a "yes" in telekinetic ability…

And you get silly shit happening.

Shit like Pilots being yanked out of their Mecha as the hatches pop open in emergency release mode. And then being dumped onto the unforgiving concrete with absolutely zero fanfare whatsoever.

Yes, I may have been just a tiny bit annoyed.

Still it got the mechs disabled, and without my having to play technopath games in the middle of a combat scenario, with a hard time limit.

I took a moment to properly position myself as the pilots attempted to recover from their dazed positions on the ground. Mere moments later, a flustered and cursing Marcy fell into my open arms in a princess carry.

She, of course, simply redirected her emotion to me.

"Gee, thanks for warning a girl before throwing her into a completely helpless situation. Next time just wrap me in tuna, why don'tcha?"

And yet, despite everything, her words carried no real heat, her emotions no true anger. Sure, she was miffed at having needed to be removed from the line of fire for me to actually work, but past that, it was more her own disappointment at not being able to truly assist me when it counted.

Besides, we both knew full well that she could have teleported herself right back to me at any time she'd wished. She didn't simply to give me room.

And now that I no longer needed that room…she was free to join in on the work. Not that there was much left of that force, anyway, what with the vast majority of its attack strength disabled and or being effectively manhandled to do the same. There were still some grunts around, but most of them were taking cover and trying to not draw attention while they repositioned.

"Oh, and you idiots? I suggest you look up."

Unfortunately for them, Marcy had used her time airborne wisely, and had apparently done her level best to be useful anyway. Namely, with an admittedly poor substitute for the Rods from God,

In her case, they were just some extremely strategically applied rocks and debris. And not even big rocks, either, but smaller ones she could somehow accelerate to near bullet speeds and then guide to hit unprotected areas at her leisure. Something I had caught on to only because I was considering the same thing and noticed all of my useful rocks going elsewhere.

Their deaths were about as clean as you could make them from that kind of thing, and I once again had to marvel at just how ridiculous that girl was.

"Alrighty then, now that we've cleaned up the trash, mind explaining why you wanted the heavy equipment more intact than usual?" Marcy asked, slowly doing a walk and scan of the area to make sure that nothing got missed. "Seems like you got a new plan all of a sudden. Fill me in!!"

I couldn't help but chuckle, even as I moved with a purpose to gather as much data on the operations of the Mecha as possible. "Short answer, It's human tech. Long answer…" an application of my technopathy and nano-scanning was next, which yielded a lot all at once.

"Well, long answer is that this is Human, or near-human, design principles and know how using alien tech. If I'm right, I can just do a quick recode and reset and of the operating systems and have a workable war machine for the defense teams to use, and Mio to upgrade at her leisure. Depending on how easy they are to use, I might finally have a way to keep you from dying on me."

And from the looks of it, I would be able to hold to my words easily. The OS was trash coding wise, but everything was built off of Human principles of thought and operation, even if the actual systems and coding themselves were largely foreign to me. Didn't stop me from dedicating a number of task instances to work the problem while I moved.

And the mecha were indeed worth the effort, from my deeper examinations. The things were actually a lot closer to what I believed that Battletech's Battlemechs or the Muscle Tracers of Armored Core fame operated, complete with insane degrees of flexibility, mobility, and agility despite their frames, along with being able to stack on significant amounts of defense as well.

Said defense wasn't just the energy shields, which were technically not all that advanced as far as shield systems go. No, the armor was some super nifty advanced composite material that looked like it fused no less than three different super materials into a new whole. I thought I saw what looked like bits of Gundarium gamma in there, along with other, more interesting things,

And that was just the exterior. The actual systems were equally absurd: advanced targeting and tracking, a variation on a combined sensors package that featured Electro-Optical, Infra-red, Radar, Lidar, Adaptive Sonar and even newer and different systems that I had no clue what to call them right off. And all somehow integrated into a seamless whole.

Of course, it wasn't all great. Power generation was weird, relying on stuff that was clearly alien in nature and that wasn't actually better than what was theoretically possible for whomever created this, and the cockpit was a shockingly cramped affair for all that it was sized properly for even taller people like myself to use properly. The only other issue was the computer systems, which I was about to remedy…ah, there it is.

And now the Mechs belong to me. Mwa ha ha.

A soft bonk against my head reminded me that Marcy could still sense my emotions.

"Nope. No evil overlord shenanigans out of you." Strangely, as playful as that interaction was, Marcy was all business for once. "We have an alien invasion to deal with, and it needs to be done now. So hurry up and finish with those, so you can do the thing you didn't want to do to me, and we can move on., okay?"

Once again, I curse how ludicrously powerful of a newtype that woman is. That was absolutely ridiculous that she managed to even fish out that much.

"And I will keep digging until I know why you are being gun shy on this. So either spill now or spill later, either way I'm finding out."

I sighed. There was no getting away from it, it seemed.

"The 'thing' in question involves me touching your literal soul with my own and 'waking it up' so to speak. The benefits are myriad and awesome, but the downside is–"

I was cut off by sudden bumrush. "Completely irrelevant. You know, or at least think you know, that this will be useful. And Newtype shenanigans are already close enough to souls interacting to begin with, so stop dithering and gimme."

"But this is–"

"Useful and powerful, so stop dithering."

Oh fuck. She was actually going to dig in on this.

"Yes." she all but growled at me. "Shockingly enough, I do not like being dead weight. And this will let me not be dead weight. Stop, let me finish." She cut me off before I could even attempt to reply. "I refuse to leave you to do this solo. I also refuse to have to be babied because I can't keep up. You are worried about the implications of having to touch my soul, which is complete bullshit because you know damn well what I am like, as much as you try to ignore it. And, as I said earlier, we are already going mind to mind, and super deep at that. You touching me is not going to make me hate you. If anything, I should be complaining about you not doing it properly."

"So, since we're already basically making out as it is, you can go ahead and take that nice soul hand and stuff it you know where, eh? Be sure to have fun while you do it."

Dammit.

'As much as I know you don't want to hear this, beloved, she has a point.'

And now Mio was taking her side? Where was my yandere dragon, jealous of all the attention I was getting?

'She is temporarily replaced by the war priestess. And is also witnessing a friend in need. And yes, she needs this, and all three of us know it.'

Marcy, despite having a clear opportunity to rub things into my face, didn't. If anything, she seemed even more vulnerable than before, despite nothing having changed in her posture or stance.

'Husband, stop being willfully blind for one second and actually see.'

The accompanying burst of thoughts and emotions was significantly more complex than I'd expected, which let me know that Mio was using several of her multitasking instances for this moment. And all of them were deliberately pointing out my own attempts to keep Marcy from wiggling too close, so I wouldn't hurt her when I had to choose Mio over her.

And…well, I'm not surprised that Mio noticed, but why bring it up now?

'Because she needs us, really. And as much as I am not inclined to share…I am less inclined to leave friends in the cold.'

The memory attached to that was likely not one that was meant to be sent off, but I saw it nonetheless.

It was from Falachis.

I sighed loudly. 'Alright. You made your point.'

Mio's amusement was palpable even from so far away, and Marcy's own relief even more so…wait, relief?

I turned to her with the harshest glare I could muster. "You really thought I was going to abandon you? Leave you out to dry? Seriously?"

She had the decency to flinch.

"Okay, before I was just worried about issues related to souls. If even after everything I have done you still think that I am willing to push you away, then I think some things need to change."

I mentally reached out to the part of my soul that was technically Mio's, and meshed it into my own Aura while concentrating it onto a single hand. The sudden shining glow slightly startled my target, but I wasn't really in the mood to care about that.

"So, miss Mousey. Since, as you put it, you damned pervy rat, we are already making out mind to mind, I think I can go a little deeper for establishing the soul to soul part, right? Shouldn't matter too much where I press this, should it?"

The poor woman finally caught on to what I was doing, and I felt her heart soar even as a huge cloud of nervous energy filled her mind. "Err…gentle, please?"

"Nope." and with that, I both metaphorically and literally stuck my soul hand into her pants, just to complete the joke she never got a chance to.

Her lack of complaint was cut off by my soul poking around inside her, trying to find the specific spot as I flooded her with energy. Which, I freely admit, was hard. Normally there was a kind of focusing chant that also doubled as a sort of oath that came with awakening one's Aura, but I had thought that it was mostly just fluff and generally unnecessary.

I was now finding out that this may have been in error, but I had no time to actually lament on it. Instead, I kept pushing, constantly seeking out that one place where her innermost light was hiding–

-=[/\]=-​

It was a sudden thing. One moment, I was half soul-poking, half not-molesting Marcy (with her consent, mind), and the next moment was a weird and confusing jumble of thoughts, emotions, and impressions as I touched something and everything connected all at once. I saw it all: the deep core of energy and rambunctiousness combined with the spike of raw pain and loneliness that seemed to try and corrupt everything it touched. I saw the defensive shell of irreverence and goofiness that she wore, along with the innermost curiosity and enthusiasm that drove her to seek out new things.

I saw the tendril that her shard was unknowingly driving into her being, the alien thing actively reinforcing the wedge pf pain that was likely her trigger, and for a brief moment I felt a distinct need to tear it out.

Said need was instead redirected to something else, a small, carefully guarded piece of her being that—

Oh.

Well, I said what I meant. And I'm sure I can bring her around to it.

Welcome to the club, Mousey. We have cheese for you.

-=[/\]=-​

And just like that, it was over, and I was treated to the quite beautiful sight of Marcy's very soul shining bright in the evening sun, the forest green hues comforting to my eyes.

Marcy, on the other hand, was simply giddy in ways that she had never quite been before. The poor girl was all but vibrating in place as she came to terms with this new state of being.

"You are kidding. This is what you meant? This complete and utter awesomeness? Why the hell aren't you doing this for other people!?!"

I simply chuckled. "Mostly because, as you have experienced firsthand, the process is intimate as all fuck and then some. You do not just touch someone's soul lightly, you know."

Marcy nodded sagely. "Indeed. It tends to leave no room for anything like secrets or deception." The fact that it was an exaggerated sage nod put me slightly on edge. "Oh, and speaking of secrets, when were you going to mention that you were a dirty little Isekai Protagonist, hmm? Or about that neat little Forge of yours?"

My smile became instantly wooden. How the fuck–

She all but pounced on my hesitation. "You said it yourself, Satori Green. We. Touched. Souls. And yours is home to a lot more than just her. Oh, also? The other stuff? I want it. We can figure out how later, just know that."

Ah. well, I guess that is a thing?

"Also…as much as I am enjoying myself, we kind of have a job to do, so…rain check on the victory dance, please?"

I was suddenly and abruptly reminded that I still had my hand in her panties. Panties which were…no, better not to think too hard on it for now. I can solve that later.

I very pointedly did not look at said hand as I extracted it. Nor did I pay any attention to certain sounds or even smells associated with said hand. I most definitely did not acknowledge that damnable smirk on Marcy's face, either.

Nor the other thing about that face that may have been relevant.

"Oh, I should note that that was by far the best Shining Finger I've ever had. 11/10, would try again."

The only reason I didn't facepalm is because it would have involved the hand, and I was trying to avoid giving her more ammo.

-=[/\]=-​

Today was not a good day, by any means of the word. Virgil had long come to accept that.

In fact, the only good thing that Virgil could say about it was that somehow, Ritchie's tech was working properly for a change.

'And at just the right time'. He thought, grim faced, as he sliced another Muton apart with a plasma sword.

He and his friend were on a sabbatical of sorts, not doing their usual antics or even their videos in order to keep a lower profile while they did some semi-official stuff in the public. Namely, an Anime convention had invited them to come and do some cosplay work. They'd even gotten paid just to show up and be awesome with their stuff! And better yet, the convention had been extended this year, doing a semi-merge with the normal Sci-fi convention that ran around the same time, in hopes of attracting their visitors from the Moon. It was all good fun for everyone.

And then the Aliens invaded from straight out of one of the oldest and best tactical games ever. And proceeded to stomp Earth in general, and Houston in particular, a new mudhole.

And to think that they would be right back in Brockton Bay if they hadn't taken that job for Delta-H Con as "cosplay artists". Then again, they also wouldn't have been around to use the good stuff on the aliens, either, so things kind of worked out in the end.

Right now, Virgil was fully in his role as Uber, using a set of power armor that was vaguely modeled after a combination of the Terran Marine armor from Starcraft and the MJOLNIR IV of Halo, complete with shielding. This, of course, meant that the aliens had to actually work to try and take him out…which had the unfortunate consequence of drawing even more fire. Not that it was doing much, as his own powers gave him the skills he needed to fight back as more than they could handle.

Another quick slice and dice of the plasma sword took out another attacker, this time a freaking Berserker. "Hey, Ritchie, these fuckers aren't playing anymore!! Where's the cavalry at?"

Ritchie, clad in his own Armor (this time being based more off of the later MJOLNIR armors), and taking cover behind the jury-rigged wideband radio that he'd rigged together to call for help (which had instead connected him someone else entirely), barked out a reply as he sighted downrange. "They're stretched thin as all hell, but they still consider Houston a priority!! Their Central guy said that their best team is inbound to try and get us some help, but they aren't rated for full-scale warfare like this!!"

Ritchie ducked to avoid another bolt of plasma, and retaliated with his own (headshot, natch) before continuing. "They're supposed to be hooking up with some VIPs that were in the area, the new guys with the tech? Supposedly they are capable of holding down at least downtown until the bigger stuff can get fully mobilized. National Guard says the first units should be ready to roll within the next 30 minutes!!"

"WE DON'T HAVE 30 MINUTES, DAMMIT!!!" Virgil screamed back. "The fucking Chryssalids are using the dead bodies to make more of themselves, and if we don't cut the fuckers down, they're going to get impossible to deal with!!"

"Well I got nothing else to work with!! The fucking van is three blocks that way!!"

Virgil cursed. This was not the kind of situation that they could handle. Hell, it wasn't the kind of situation that anyone could handle, without preparation. Hell, even the party favors they'd stashed in their van for a potential showdown weren't enough for this shit.

And the aliens were smart, too. He'd seen them starting to roll out bot tanks and actual fucking mecha in some places, and had quickly hauled ass elsewhere with Ritchie before they got killed, which was why they'd left the van. Worse, the mecha were covering for the damned Chryssalid buildups happening all over the place, so they couldn't' even just play cleanup on the fuckers while waiting for the big guns. Pretty soon there wasn't going to be any room to maneuver for anything because of all the fucking bugs moving around, and hen people were going to start dying to the things.

Which would make more.

But how to stop the freaking cascade?

"INCOMING!!"

Virgil looked up to see a nightmare.

There were Berserkers everywhere, each of them covering for at least five Chryssalids each. The street was just jam packed with the fuckers.

And they were all coming directly for their position. The building they'd pinned themselves against had been good for covering angles of approach, but now it was a deathtrap with that much force arrayed against them.

"Okay, brace for the charge–"

What he saw next would stupefy him for years to come.

A little kid with a raccoon tail dropped down from another building, silent as all hell, and using what looked like twin shorts words literally decapitated a Berserker before anyone actually saw what happened. He then hit two more as the others were reacting before blurring out of the way of the counterattacks.

Just before everything could go to complete pandemonium, however, what could only have been his mother dropped down from a different building, holding what looked like a massively ornate swordspear and shield combo…that was made from alien parts?...and then proceeded to basically annihilate the entire group single-handedly, including using literal blade beams to slice apart berserkers at range. Meanwhile, the kid was using his speed to cover the rare weaknesses she showed and laughing about it.

And his mom was coaching him the entire time.

"Remember Marcos, you have to keep moving!! Never let them actually get close to hitting you, and always be at least two steps ahead before you move in to swing. You don't have a shield to fall behind, so you have to use your agility as your armor."

"Okay, mama, but what about when I don't have a clear hit?"

"Then you direct them to me. I'll handle them."

"Yes!!"

It was absurd and hilarious in equal measure, and Virgil wanted to laugh out loud at merely seeing it. But no, there was work to do, and apparently the Raccoon people were their tickets to not dying today.

"Ritchie, cover me, I'm going in to help the mom and kid–"

A noise from above caught his attention. Specifically, the fact that it wasn't some kind of shot from the ships above sniping people.

In fact, it sounded like an engine.

The Mama and Son combo obviously heard it as well, as they cleared out of the street and moved away from their targets at speed…and not a moment too soon.

The remnants of the aliens never knew what hit them. A plane all but fell out of the sky in what could only be barely described as a controlled descent to land directly on top of them.

That poor Berserker never saw it coming…

The plane itself was really advanced looking, complete with rotating wings with vectored engine exhausts in critical areas…and it was obviously a troop transport.

He knew this because the rear hatch was opening almost as soon as the plane hit the ground.

And from the back of that plane…

There were twelve of them. They were armed with what looked like laser weapons, and armored in advanced composite plates of some kind that made them look like some kind of stormtrooper knockoffs without the helmets. But the one thing that was noticeable was the emblem they all had, somewhere on their armor.

A Pentagonal symbol, featuring part of a globe, and a clear X dividing it, alongside the words Vigilo Confido.

Virgil knew without even asking. These were the guys they'd called earlier, the pens that said they were sending help.

This was XCOM, and they now officially stood a chance in hell.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Stopping here due to easy break point and Zelda.

On Marcy: it was Fourmyle who pointed out to me that the connotations of the conversation could be construed as extremely perverse and what eventually led to an MP joke of, and I quote:

"We're already making out mind-to-mind. Just slip your soul hand into my pants already!"

YEAH.

I modified things above, slightly, but the actual gist of the mini prank war played out as intended. And Marcy won, no matter how you look at it.

 

[Slider Zero]

That which the world had never seen before, the writings of a dreamer, the one named Slider.

It has been over a year since the iwork was last seen. Now, aided by those who seek the return of the legend, the mighty Author has gathered his will again, and so the next chapter shall take place…

(fake lore blip aside, it's been far, FAR too long since I updated this, for a number of reasons. In either case, enjoy these words at your leisure and expect more of them to come in a much shorter timeframe than the last.)

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

"STRIKE ONE, MOVE OUT!!"

The newly-arrived troopers wasted little time in spreading out, assuming a defensive position around their transport as the apparent leader assessed the situation.

Namely, the mass of dead aliens, the obvious mother and child combo responsible for said massacre, and the slightly less obvious pair of nerds in power armor doing their part as well.

Oh, and the second wave of the alien swarm (this time Mutons, along with the remaining Chryssalids), but that should have been obvious.

Virgil had to admit that they knew what they were doing, as the leader of the team barked a command and the entire defensive line shifted to face the incoming threat, weapons ready and waiting.

The first shots were almost anticlimactic, really. One of the soldiers apparently had decided to take a potshot against the aliens, probably as a test to see how much firepower would be needed to actually deal with the opposition.

Said shot, from a line-of-sight laser weapon no less (and one that reminded him eerily of one of the many, many takes on a Warhammer 40k lasgun), found its target on the head of a Muton…and removed it with almost contemptuous ease.

The entire gaggle of aliens stopped almost in unison, and turned towards the soldiers as one, the Mutons with looks of almost pure horror not only visible but recognizable on their faces.

The savage grin on the commander of "Strike One" was absolutely vicious, and Virgil found himself matching it almost immediately.

"OPEN FIRE!!!"

Nobody needed to be told twice.

The resulting hail of lasers utterly annihilated their targets, leaving little more than burning chunks of meat in their wake. The few Chryssalids that managed to scurry to some kind of cover were brutally cut down by the Raccoon pair with just as much swiftness. The end result was a street swept clean of alien activity, with only the rapidly cooling corpses left as a testament to what had happened there.

It was utterly glorious to behold, and Virgil could only nod in savage satisfaction at the result.

The commander quickly took advantage. "Alright, listen up! Lancer, take Briggs, Rush and Scrapper and get us a forward path. Ryker and Zillah, you're on recon; find anyone still fighting and get them back here for exfil until we can get a better safe zone. Falcon and Spanker, you're on overwatch: if it moves and isn't human, I want it dead. Ariel, Jouster, and Rock, you're on LZ patrol. Make sure the place stays secure until we get a better look. The rest of you are with me.

He grinned even as his people moved to perform their tasks. "We got our work cut out for us, and the Eggheads have no clue about the new stuff on the ground. Stay sharp and watch your backs, and make sure you report anything unusual so they can figure out what the hell is going on. With any luck, we're done and back in time for chow. Make it happen, people!!"

He then turned his attention towards him, nodding in respect. "Thanks for the assist. Virgil Hawkins, I assume? Parahuman alias Uber?"

Virgil only barely didn't freeze in his tracks at being outed like that. Instead, he merely gave a stiff nod that was only partially muffled by the armor he was wearing.

"Good. We were hoping to catch you two before the place got overran. We're gonna need your help to clear out the place, as our organization has their hands tied putting out fires everywhere else and you have the most firepower available until we can get to our objective–"

The mini-brief was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Chryssalid jumping out of cover and moving at frankly ridiculous speeds towards them, malice clear in its movements.

Said movements were interrupted even faster by a sudden blur and the sound of actual, no-shit audible sharpness as the same Chryssalid all but fell apart in motion, revealing the Raccoon kid on the other side looking down at it curiously.

One of the remaining troopers nearby almost immediately emoted over it. "Oh god, so cute! Boss, we're keeping the kid, alright?" The fact that she had also moved to encircle the poor kid in a massive hug that probably would have included a taste of marshmallow hell if not for the body armor was another matter.

Which was made worse by the kid himself. "Sorry, nice lady, but mama says I have to stay near her for now, but maybe later?"

This only encouraged the trooper to squeeze harder and make even more obvious 'I'm gonna keep him' motions, even as his mother snickered in the background along with the other troopers. For his part, the poor commander simply took his L with stoic pride, knowing there was no way to actually win that.

Either way, things were definitely looking up. He'd have to ask about the rest of how the hell they knew who they were later, though…

-=[/\]=-​

In a rare turn of events, Miolala Granliss Green was actually angry.

And nearly all of it had to do with the fact that the fucking Ayys who were interrupting her precious "sexy dragon wife" time with her Satori were pointedly refusing to just roll over and fucking die like a good Xeno.

It was enough to drive a woman mad!

The fuckers simply would. Not. QUIT. They kept coming and coming and coming, again and again, to the point that the automated defenses she'd set up outside the hospital now had entire berms of bodies stacked in front of them, and were actively burning through the excess to get kills on the ones trying to hide.

But that wasn't all! The fuckers could apparently teleport, too, and were using that to try and insert strike teams inside the Hospital to terrorize the survivors and potentially drive them out into the open.

Something which worked only once, as Mio just so happened to be in the area and was in dire need of a stress ball, which the Xenos were oh so gracious to provide.

Too bad about the walls, though. They're never going to get those stains out…

Of course, said attack had prompted her to stretch her already overtaxed resource reserves even more, and set up internal defenses to deal with future incursions, along with pushing forward the "arm the people" plan even faster. The second was paying massive dividends at the moment, as apparently extremely overtuned Las was highly effective against the walking corpses, while the locals were very much of the opinion that taking the fight back to the enemy was a positive thing that should be done as early and as often as possible.

Unfortunately, even the automated lasgun constructor stations she'd set up to convert various forms of scrap metals into weapons were running low on materials, primarily because of the sheer weight of numbers being thrown at them. If not for that, she would have already gone out herself and started clearing out the rubbish, but the constant attacks were keeping her pinned in order to handle any surprises that came along.

Surprises like the fucking Dreadknight wannabes that were currently trying her long since exhausted patience.

The mechs were a thing that her Satori had run into earlier, something about a secondary strike force dropping reinforcements into the field through unusual methods. The mechs themselves were, while impressive, nothing too major for her to worry about, and only required her attention because they were being annoying and trying to end-run around the defenses to get inside.

Which earned them several nice bolts of highly focused directed energy in strategic locations from her as a reward.

Annoyingly, despite that, they just kept coming anyway, and they showed no signs of actually letting up anytime soon, even with their air cover quickly beating feet to avoid getting shot out of the sky by her Volcano Lances. And they had enough in the way of shielding and armor that the "normal" lasguns that were being issued to the people were not going to be enough to stop them–which, while easily solved, had the secondary issue attached that she didn't have the needed materials for the bigger guns and she couldn't go scrounging because they tried to push every time and then–

Yeah, it was frustrating in the extreme, even if she was still winning the war.

'Satori, you are going to be spending a lot of time inside me after this is done. Remember that.'

Her only response was an exasperated sigh and loving caress in her mind, which she took a brief moment to savor.

An electric purple light sprang to life next to her, one of the precursors of the teleport effect that the xenos used.

Her brow twitched in irritation. Another one…

-=[/\]=-​

"HEY!!! OVER HERE!!"

The group of Mutons turned towards Marcy with clear killing intent in their motions.

They never actually saw the blades slicing them in half as she moved, the entire motion swift and seamless as she blatantly executed her opposition.

Yeah, Marcy was a natural when it came to Aura, and it showed. The woman adapted to the powerup with an ease and grace that was shocking to behold, and quickly adjusted to push herself to heights unseen in order to "keep up" with me.

The result, when combined with her usual enthusiasm, was a nightmare machine for the poor xenos bastards who stood in her way.

And her emotions…dear god, I had never felt anyone feel that alive before. It was like a blinder had been taken off, and the previous glow she held was but a mere fraction of her true splendid shine. Simply being near her was almost overwhelming to my senses as she zipped around and generally flexed her newly awakened prowess.

Key word being almost. It is a lot easier to not blind someone with exuberance and general "you-ness" when that person wants you there, after all, and Marcy most definitely wanted me around. This lent her aura a form of…acceptance is the closest word for it, honestly, that let me not have to actively dim my own senses or shut her out to still be able to perceive the world.

It was also, much to my amusement, having an effect on the world around us.

See, ever since we'd started really moving, I had been noticing more people armed up and taking the fight to the enemy. This being Texas, the level of available firepower was appropriately high.

Meaning that the guys with the AR-15s and FALs were doing most of the work, backed up by the local Hood-equip AK platform variant. And doing shockingly well, even, for all that they were getting hit by airstrikes from the damned ships whenever they started getting momentum.

Airstrikes that I was, if not deflecting, then at least diverting with some judicious applications of the Force. Applications which left me open to attack by the larger elements whenever I did so, and were exploited ruthlessly…only to be counter-ambushed by my beautiful Knight of Mice mere moments after their arrival, thus clearing up more room for the small guys to have more of an impact.

Fun fact: despite what the games would try to say about it, .308 Winchester was still just as effective on aliens as it was on people. .45 ACP shockingly was even more so, and where that one dude had gotten a Barrett I would never know, but .50 BMG was once again proving to be the great equalizer in Infantry ammo.

Of course, this was all dealing with unarmored targets or the few times that the big boys dropped their guard and got sniped. None of the conventional shit was doing anything against the actual armor, which was expected and seemed to be accounted for by the defense simply by applying pinpoint accuracy to the problem.

Hey, its Texas. Tons of hunters over here, even in the "liberal hell" that is Houston, and lots of marksmen of both civvie and military provenance that could make the shots under pressure. (It is low-key the real reason why nobody actually wants to fuck with America when it comes to shit like invasions–they know full damn well that the civilians would eat their troops alive with raw skill.)

But back to Marcy and her damned Aura. Because her emotions were filtering out onto the defenders as we passed, bolstering their spirits and generally giving them the strength to carry forward in the face of Armageddon, which they did with gusto.

Maybe it was her Semblance?

"So, Satori. When you planning on pulling the saucers out of the air? Mousey wants to play~"

I should also mention that Marcy was very much not letting me live down the prior incident and was making it blatantly clear with her newly enhanced newtype powers (because of course they were) that she meant that in the most perverse, depraved and sexual manner possible. The bad guys being around were interrupting her potential "jump Satori" time, and that was unacceptable.

Too bad she would have to fight against Mio for that timeslot, because she had first dibs and already had made it clear that she was going to be making use of me.

Still, I had work to do, so unfortunately I couldn't address the innuendo. "I was aiming to try and find a big enough area where I could just drop the fuckers with no issues, preferably near the ship channel so I could avoid clogging up landmass we might need elsewhere. We still haven't gotten to the port proper yet, so I don't have the room I want to work with–"

Marcy cut me off almost immediately with a mental smack. "Satori. Stop thinking of this as the Houston you know. This city is completely different from the one that is a thriving metroplex. This place is struggling to stay relevant, even with the port, and only has as much traffic as it does because it's basically the only viable port in this part of the country left. Seriously, just pick a spot and start dropping flies. I can deal with the fallout until you are ready to back me up."

Honestly, I kind of felt like an idiot after hearing that.

Because she was right. Hell, I'd noticed it myself even before the attack kicked off. This Houston is very much not the thriving port city that was the crown jewel of the South and basically the fourth-largest city in America by size.

No, this was a place that was already struggling to get by, and was likely going to need months if not years of rebuilding to ever get back to anything looking like its former glory even by the standards of Earth Bet. And here I was, trying to spare as much as possible when it was already obvious that Mio and I were going to have to do a total overhaul of pretty much everything simply due to the sheer scope of even the current damage.

…I was going to chalk this up to a combination of brain fart and emotional overload from the massive backlash from the dead and dying around me. Yes, that was the reason and nothing else.

Stop laughing, both of you.

(Spoiler: they did not stop laughing.)

So, moment of embarrassing flubbery aside, all I needed to do was just find a spot I didn't really care about and start stacking spaceships until the idiots either got the message and bailed or, and this was the more desirable outcome, I ran out of ships to stack with.

Finding a suitable spot didn't take as long as I'd feared it would. There was an entire section of abandoned warehouses and similar former industry just kind of hanging around the area we were in, and all of it begging to be used as a landing pad for my targets.

I quickly got to a decent vantage point away from my drop zone and started scanning the skies. "Mouse, I need you to keep our guests busy while I start clearing out the skies. This is going to take most of my concentration and I am really not going to have much to spare to handle the chumps."

A feeling of approval and determination was my reply, and with that secured I got to work.

-=[/\]=-​

Sydney Orland, better known as the newest member of the Houston Protectorate Grey Knight (a "compromise" from his own preferred name of Orlandu, due to identity concerns), was in a bit of a bind.

Mostly because his family was caught out in the open when this little invasion kicked off, and he was too far away to see to their protection personally. Not that his wife couldn't take care of herself; Sharra was no slouch when it came to their shared powers by any means, but with the level of madness going on he wanted assurances.

Especially with his kids in the mix. They were just getting out of school when this shit started, and by all accounts would have been priority targets for the asshole aliens just to cause suffering and strife to the people…

"Daddy, look out!!"

A quick backspin into an empowered slash took out the oncoming insect thing that had been attempting to creep up on him, the carcass cleanly bisected with little effort. His daughter cheered from behind her improvised cover as the enemy fell before him, clearly excited to see her beloved daddy win against the bad guys.

Of course, this was yet another reminder of why he was in such a bind. He had both of his children with him at the moment, a lucky streak allowing him to locate them before things got really bad, and was currently looking for a place to stash them so he could get back to the fight proper. The issue was that basically every safe zone that he could think of was getting overrun long before he could even begin to help, and the few he knew of that were actually holding out had a figurative sea of aliens between him and safety…which was all but a death sentence for his children.

And that was just for the shit on the ground. Once you added in the crap floating above (that he was even now actively shielding against to prevent them from sniping him or his kids) then things got completely out of hand.

The fact that nobody could seem to figure out a plan and make it work was just the shitty icing on top of a shitty cake as far as he was concerned, and based on the waves of enemies headed his way the bad guys had obviously figured out that he was a soft target due to his kids and were angling to take him out of the fight as quickly as possible. The group he had just dealt with was the biggest pack he'd faced yet during the crisis, and he had a sneaking suspicion that they were only going to get even larger until something broke…

A strange groaning sound caught his attention, and he quickly snapped to the source…only to look on, slack-jawed at what he was witnessing.

One of the alien spaceships was quite literally being dragged out of the air by an unknown force. The ship was obviously struggling to try and break free from whatever it was that was pulling against it, but it was of little use, as the ship was inexorably dragged further towards its doom.

To make matters even worse for the bastards, whatever tinker weapon system that had been set up to help control the airspace had taken a look at the situation and decided to add its own opinion to the discussion, with large, hilariously powerful laser blasts reaching out and piercing through their targets with almost contemptuous ease now that they weren't dodging. They'd obviously hit something important, too, because suddenly the resistance against the ground-tugging failed outright and the enemy ship was…well, the only word that even fit was 'yeeted'., into the ground at tremendous speed and with exceptional force. Hell, the landing zone was clear on the other side of downtown and he still felt it from here.

Then a second, larger ship started to suffer the same fate, this time being dragged down even faster, almost as if whatever parahuman was responsible for this had finally gotten their bearings and was really putting in the work, now. The air defenses, likewise, seemed to understand almost immediately that the best option was to keep at least one gun ready and waiting for the inevitable tug-of-war match and then riddle the offending ship with holes until they hit something important and caused the ship to suffer another yeet reaction.

He continued to watch, transfixed, as the ships in the air kind of just…petered out, slowly, piece by piece, as they were yanked out of the air and peppered with what he could only describe as artillery-grade laser fire.

His kids, for a change, were actually enjoying the show, if their cheering was any indication.

Sadly, his big moment of introspection was cut short by yet another group of aliens coming directly for him, energy weapons (he suspected plasma of some kind) already firing–and not doing much to his shield. Sadly, the shield was not perfect by any means, so he had to actually engage this batch before they got too close and endangered his children.

But hey, he signed up for this, right?

-=[/\]=-​

So, in retrospect, I probably should have put a bit more preparation into the whole "lets' yeet the ships out of the sky" thing.

Mostly because, despite appearances, making gigantic towers out of the wreckage of alien spacecraft was very much not a good look, even if it was actually doing a lot for me in particular. Especially because I could feel the fuckers flailing in absolute Terror as they impacted the ground with forces sufficient to ensure that the ship would never fly again unless I laid hands on it personally.

Which was a good thing, because even though I was making this shit look easy, actually yanking those things out of the sky like that was almost impossibly difficult with my current skill level. Sure, the Force was juicing me up with pretty much everything to assist, but the simple fact of the matter was that this honestly should have been beyond my skill level if not for Mio taking advantage of my being able to grab the ships and arrest their movement long enough for her to land a critical hit. And I knew it was her, too, because of the raw, vindictive glee I was getting back from her as the ships went down, one by one.

That was the good news. The bad news was that the ground forces did not like this particular brand of events, and were increasing their efforts at preventing me from taking out their air support.

And they were coming in hot and heavy.

Those tanks I'd captured and disabled before? Apparently they had plenty of those just hanging around and were not afraid to deploy them if needed, in both the small and large varieties. The Mechs? Fuckers had modular loadouts and could vary their configuration enough that trying to adapt was only this side of a fool's errand.

Oh, and apparently they also had IFV equivalents, complete with Sectoids at the controls and some kind of amplifier for their mind control?

Like, Jesus fuck, I knew in the games that the Ayys were holding back, but this shit is ridiculous.

To anyone else, it would have been utter suicide, not even worth the attempt. Even for me, it would have been needlessly difficult to deal with all of that and still accomplish my goals on my own.

The problem that the Ayys currently faced was that, sadly for them, I was no longer alone.

And as good as those tanks and other miscellaneous armored vehicles may have been, they had shitty operators at the controls, beings who were unused to actually prosecuting a proper battle utilizing Armor.

And it was something that the newly arrived Texas National Guard took immense relish in teaching them the error of.

With extreme brevity.

Seriously, I hadn't even noticed the guys had arrived in all the chaos. One minute, I am dodging and flailing away from weapons fire while trying to hold one of their bigger ships still long enough for Mio to get a shot, and the next the very enemies firing on me were being subjected to actual, proper Armored Warfare…or at least the mechanized infantry version thereof.

As it turns out, the Earth Bet version of the Texas National Guard Armory kept a significant ready reserve force for "just in case" situations just like this one, and were more than willing to make use of it where they could. The only issue they really had to deal with was travel time from the Armory and potentially fuel concerns for the bigger stuff, which was probably why they were using the light stuff instead.

Which meant that the Ayys were now subjected to the unrelenting skill and determination of the US Army in Reinforced Company strength…which was, shockingly enough, just what Mouse Protector and I needed to get back into the game and finish the job.

Even better, the Guys in the Stryker IFVs made a point of not interrupting my yanking the ships out of the air just to introduce themselves, and even treated Mouse like one of their own in their planning!!

"Focus fire on those mechs, keep them pinned down!!"

"Engineers to the disabled vehicles! See if you can get those started up!!"

"Javelin teams, on me!! Aim for the big one, two o'clock!"

It was simply beautiful to not only see, but hear my people in action. Yes, they were ground pounders and thus automatically inferior to my excellence as an Airman, but that was for later. Right now, the Green Machine was spinning up, and woe betide anything that stood in its way.

I just stayed focused on the ships that needed to die as I continued stacking my jenga tower of doom.

'Satori, the interference is clearing up. Looks like it was coming from the ships, and needed a critical mass to stay operational. I should have a line with the leadership soon to coordinate things!!'

Oh Hell Yes.

The defense getting actual comms back was pretty much the ball game for the invasion as a whole, as that meant that people could call for backup from unaffected areas and coordinate fire support from beyond visual range onto targets.

This meant that we could call in the other members of the Triumvirate to help clear this mess up in short order, as well as the other National guard units. And with the air cover gone, the Air Guard now came into play, complete with all of the Air Power a man could want.

Things were finally looking up.

So, of course, the damned Ayys had to try and invoke Murphy by taking all of their remaining air assets and attempting to divebomb me at speed, likely hoping to take me out before they died by any means necessary.

Too bad for them that Mio is just as empathic and precognitive as I am, and had already adjusted the other Volcano Lances to compensate for the new trajectory.

Also helped that the dumbasses were still so close to Downtown, but that was their fault

"Hey, Satori, we got incoming, you need to…oh."

That was Mouse, trying to bail me out before the storm hit…only to watch as the incoming ships got sniped out of the sky by pinpoint Laser Lance fire. And then be possessed of even more awe as I immediately spiked the ship into the ground to kill its forward momentum before it could still do what it wanted and flatten my location underneath itself.

Judging from the whooping and cheers I could hear from the back, the Guardsmen were equally impressed at the spectacle.

I felt more than heard their commander approach me, once the area was clear enough to do so. Giving him a brief glance out of the corner of my eye, I only noted the important bits: the unit patches in their appropriate places, the nametape on his pockets (Parker, from the looks of it) and, most importantly, the Flag patch on his shoulder, stars forward and rushing into battle.

And his rank patch, of course. Captain, he was.

I conspicuously avoided giving him a salute, which he noted in the back of his mind appreciatively. "Mr. Green? I'm Captain Raymond Parker, with the Texas National Guard. We were ordered to locate you and assist in any way possible."

I finally turned fully to the Captain, which not only let him see my own rank patch of warrant officer, an action that elicited a snort of amusement from the man before he regained his decorum, but let me get a proper look at the man himself. Overall, not much to say: pretty average for a white guy, in what would be considered an attractive way by those inclined. The only point of note on my end was the blonde hair and gray eyes.

"No problem, Captain, Definitely could use the help right now, especially as all of these mechs and shit need people to operate them so we can start cleaning up. If you'll give me a few minutes, I can see about setting things up so you actually have real firepower to work with and not the usual stuff, sir."

Captain Parker nodded. "I say get to it, and keep us posted on what you got available. Any word from up the chain on your end? My guys can't punch through the interference for shit." He waved in the direction of his command vehicle for emphasis, where a radioman was finishing up a quick check of his gear before attempting to send another transmission out.

"Hoo boy, do I have good news for you." I grinned, rubbing my hands together. "As it turns out, the ships I've been dragging out of the air here were the source of the jamming and emissions static, so every one I took out cleared up the airwaves. I haven't actually poked my head back in there, yet, but my guess is that things should be clear enough to get word out to everyone else that the skies are clear to send in the air support for cleanup. Also, what happened to the Artillery? I thought there was a depot for that in town?"

Parker pumped his fist in victory, then immediately started handing out orders. "Simmons, radio should be clear. Get on the horn to the big wigs and tell 'em to get the good stuff in ASAP. Riley, call the other teams and get everyone on the same page."

I decided to preempt him on his next orders. "Make sure they tell the brass to get in touch with my wife, if possible, so she can coordinate getting everyone better gear. You're gonna need it for the bigger fuckers" Parker looked at me briefly before nodding, and I returned my attention to the Captain. "As for the rest, I have some work to do. First tank should be ready in five, tops, have your guys ready to go so we don't get jumped, please." I took off to work before he could get a word in edgewise, though judging from the light chuckles I heard with my large, exceptionally sensitive ears I doubt that he was going to say anything.

As for the public?

All I heard from them that wasn't more shooting at the alien assholes was cheering as the real heroes showed up.

-=[/\]=-​

Captain Shawn Simms, callsign "Bruiser", looked on at the chaos of the streets of Houston in disgust and very carefully controlled fury.

What the X-Ray attack had done to the people of the city was unimaginable, the barbarity and callousness on full display for all but the blind to see for themselves.

Bodies, everywhere…at least, where there weren't more of the damned abduction pods that they still had no clue how to open safely. Wreckage and rubble everywhere, with the fighting having completely torn apart some buildings while leaving others almost completely untouched.

The smell. That distinct, unnatural, different odor that always came with the Aliens when they arrived, when they attacked.

The only difference from other attacks and landing zones was that this particular engagement was far larger in scale than what XCOM was normally used to seeing…and that the Aliens had clearly not been having it all their way, even despite having broken out new technology just for this run.

The strewn remains of their opponents were everywhere. The bodies of the opposition were all over the place, and with wounds ranging from multiple gunshots to what looked like edged weapons to even a case of what looked like a freaking Mechtoid being ripped apart with bare hands. Even in the midst of the ongoing tragedy, it was clear that the city nor its inhabitants had any intention of dying quietly.

Something made even more apparent as he and his squad rounded a corner and came face to face with what would normally be open parkland, strewn with the wreckage of alien vehicles and what looked like some form of bipedal, piloted mecha.

Whoever had been doing this was putting in some work.

Still, he and his people had a job to do.

"Fan out. Fast Assault formation, watch the flanks. We have approximately half a kilometer to go before we hit the Hospital Zone–don't lose it now, people. Keep an eye out for stragglers or any civilians as we go."

The Team acknowledged his commands and prepared to move. Meanwhile, their tagalongs turned auxiliary element were obviously wary and rattled. It was clear just from body language that neither of the men (not boys; anyone who was willing to brave the hellscape that the city had become had more than earned that right) looking outward with suspicious eyes wanted to be here

Simms didn't blame them. He'd been on enough drops to know all too well that shit could go wrong at the worst of times just because you decided to not look at a completely bare wall a few seconds ago, let alone missing a hiding enemy in the middle of a debris-strewn battlefield with plenty of cover and concealment.

And that was before the damned insect things had come along. Chryssalids Uber had called them. A terror weapon of immense magnitude that acted like alien botflies and implanted their young inside the dead bodies of those they killed, then reanimated the body as a kind of zombie before hatching out a new bug to repeat the process.

Vahlen had been adamant about getting a sample to study as soon as possible, to see if there was a counter, and for once nobody had anything to say about it.

That alone rang warning bells for many; Vahlen was notoriously callous about anything that wasn't science and learning more about the alien threat that besieged them, to the point that she would often be seen as semi-dismissive of the lives of the soldiers out on the field.

Bruiser knew better. As did everyone who was around for the first few missions, who had been there when the war was really getting started.

Or when he alone had returned from that disastrous first op that had wiped out the rest of his team with almost zero effort. He'd seen it then, the way she reacted. The one time she'd allowed the mask to slip.

Still, the fact that she was so blatantly letting her normal mask slip off over this… it had him worried.

Worried that this war was about to enter a new and far more terrifying phase.

"Contact left! Type Unknown!"

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance, via some weird-ass purple sphere thing, no less, of a group of X-Rays on their left side, up on the small berm that served as a boundary into Hermann Park proper. And the group was…

Okay, he didn't know what to think about those fuckers. It was yet more new types, this time some variation on the Cyberdiscs that was instead a giant sphere, along with a bunch of weirdly mechanical hulking things with big guns.

He didn't need t tell the team to get to cover, they were already moving as soon as the callout was made….and to his horror it didn't seem like it was going to do any good. The hulking asshats were, on closer inspection, wearing what looked like fucking personal power armor and acting like a super-heavy shock troop, complete with what looked like a no-shit plasma cannon, meanwhile the spheres…

The Spheres were going to be a problem. He could feel it.

"What kind of alien is that? I've never…is that a weaponized life support frame?"
"I can't tell just from looking at it, but that cannon on the arm seems like it means business. I'm more worried about the giant orbs…this is a significant escalation of the Alien's previous drone technology…"

"Either way, the big one looks ready to smash something. Stay sharp, Strike One."

Drs. Shen and Vahlen were obviously trying their best to get a read on what the hell they had just run into, and it wasn't looking good if they were both confused like that. Central wasn't much better, even if his additional tactical analysis was useful in corroborating what everyone else probably felt as well.

One of the spheres opened fire on his position, forcing him back down behind the garbage truck he was using as cover. To his horror, the weapon, some kind of laser, did horrendous damage to his cover, melting a significant way through the truck itself. It almost certainly wasn't going to be able to take more than one or two more of those, at best.

Unfortunately, moving was…contraindicated at the moment. There were at least six of the fucking orb things, each with that big-ass laser cannon, and while it was apparently inaccurate (as judged by Rush, the lucky bastard, somehow managing to not get hit by one as he was diving behind a concrete divider) the punch was very much undeniable. Meanwhile, the armored things were just charging through whatever the hell they felt like just because, including all the potential alternate cover locations as they moved in on his team.

One of the power armor suits stopped for a moment, seemed to angle itself in the oddest fashion for a moment…and then fired off a goddamn blob of something from its shoulders that splashed all over Rush's position.

His scream of pain and panic chilled him to his soul.

The substance, obviously some sort of acid, was clearly eating through the concrete as Rush screamed louder, desperately trying to scrape as much of the stuff off of himself as possible…before a plasma shot from one of the other ones stilled him.

Briggs' scream of rage echoed through the air as she almost immediately broke cover and unloaded everything she had at the X-rays, her Heavy Laser Cannon doing a surprisingly good job of tearing at the armored asshats…before a laser shot from one of the spheres blew a literal hole in her torso, taking her down.

The raccoon lady traveling with them quickly moved to try and shield what was left of his comrades while digging for something on her person, though to what end he had no idea. Meanwhile, her son made an attempt at rushing the one responsible, only for a coordinated crossfire to push him back just as quickly as he came. Uber, for his part, was already moving to try and tend to the wounded, with Leet covering him as much as he could, which wasn't anywhere near as much as they needed…and the less said about the rest of his people with them at the moment, the better.

Sticky wicket didn't even begin to describe this…

"Strike One, this is Xanadu Actual."

'And now the Boss Lady is on the horn. This can't be good…'

Sure, the Commander technically had tactical command of the situation by her own order, but in practice how that worked was that she gave a general directive based on the overall picture that the bosses could see from their own sensor feeds, and he utilized his best judgement on how to carry out the order as directed. Under more ideal circumstances this could, and had, led to a pseudo chess match as the Commander shuffled people around almost like a tactical game to achieve near impossible victories, but in this situation she was acting more as an Operator assist than anything else, especially with how quickly the battlefield was changing around them.

The Commander spoke, as usual, with an iron core of resolve. "You are authorized to eliminate the new X-Ray assets by any means necessary, preferably before they can begin attacking civilians. On my order."

…Oh. Now that changed things somewhat.

Fun fact: XCOM had a lot more fun toys waiting in the wings than people thought they did, including a few gee-whiz doohickeys derived from tinkertech thanks to some "friends" they had access to. Toys which included a few party favors that normally would not be authorized for use inside of an urban area due to their…potential.

Toys which were now fully and unambiguously on the table.

Simms wasted no time. "Strike One, Crackerjacks are authorized, now light em up!!!"

"Crackerjacks" in this case being the shorthand for the tinker improvised grenades that were now being thrown or, in one case, launched into the enemy formation. Grenades that had some very interesting effects.

Like freezing things. Or corroding the hell out of the alloys involved. Or in one particularly vicious hit, just outright popping a fucker with an energy field and watching it fry itself with its own reflected heat output cranked up to who knows what.

Simms could only laugh in triumph as he saw the results. Most X-Rays down, with only a few of the new floater things still hanging around to cause trouble, and all of them heavily damaged. Those would be easy enough to get around, anyway, now that they weren't swarming them with backup…

"Hey, what the hell? Wasn't that the Random Bomb that I made a few months back? How the hell?"

And that was the other amusing part: the fact that the gear was based off of none other than the very tinker they were fighting alongside's tech. Even better, the "random bomb" he was speaking of was meant for a show idea based on Bomberman that fell through when the local authorities refused to grant them the needed explosives permits to make it work right. All XCOM had done was take the idea and…play with it a little…

"Strike One, This is Central. Scope looks clear, proceed to…wait, what the hell?!"

Central's shock immediately had Simms looking around for whatever the hell was the cause…and it let him see the alien armor suits getting back up as if nothing had gone wrong.

As in all of them. Standing back up, and clearly moving into combat positions, despite the obvious cockpit-slash-control center having been damaged or destroyed in some capacity.

"...Wait a minute, look at their movements!!"

It was, oddly enough, the small raccoon child who pointed it out: the alien armor suits were moving jankily, almost haphazardly, as if whatever was controlling them had no actual skill in operating the technology in this environment. In fact, if not for their sheer bulk it was clearly obvious that at least one of the suits would have long since fallen back over already.

Which gave him a plan of sorts.

"Falcon, talk to me. You see the funky power armor moving in on us?"

"Copy visual, boss. Whatcha need?"

"Hit the fucker on our left with the Bertha, would ya? You should know the one."

"Copy target. Stand by."

Falcon, AKA Sergeant Jerry Grimes, formerly USMC, was the team's resident Sniper, and a graduate of the Marine Scout Sniper program prior to his selection for XCOM. He was easily the best shot on the team, and arguably in the entire organization with some of the insanity that he could pull, with only the leaders of Strike Six and Strike Seven being on the same level.

In fact, even now Simms could almost see the targeting reticle of the advanced scope on the new heavy laser sniper moving into position and giving the appropriate information needed for the shot. Not a second later, the crack of a bolt of light impacted with the designated armor, practically blowing it apart with the sheer force the shot imparted.

Sims, and quite a few of the others, could only whistle in appreciation. The Bertha was the heaviest gun they had available to use, and it was very much proving that the "Lasgun" tech was definitely superior to the lasers that XCOM had previously been developing.

Falcon, taking a bit of initiative, quickly shifted targets and started laying down fire on the other wild alien power armors as well, making use of the incredibly quick cycle time on the Sniper to extreme effect while the rest of the team cough their breath. Which was a good thing, because it left the rest of the m to focus down on the fucking orbs and start taking them out.

Leet chose that moment to aim a device at one of the Sphere things and fired it off…only to emote in clear confusion as whatever was supposed to happen didn't.

"Guys? We have a problem!! Those Orbs, they're not–"

Leet never got to finish his sentence. Instead, he was interrupted by one of the orbs opening itself up, and revealing the horror within.

Namely, the mass of flesh and tentacles that served as the core of the Orb-thing, openly flailing and clearly swirling with the telltale signs of psionic energy as it did something…

The energy quickly spread across the battlefield in a moderate radius, even covering many of the recently created corpses strewn all over the place.

And those very corpses began to move, rising up once again and clearly under the control of the alien.

"And, of course, it had to be more zombies."

The statement caused nearly everyone to blink in confusion. The Raccoon woman, whose name he still hadn't gotten, was suddenly standing right in the middle of the newly formed zombie swarm, with an air of blatant irritation surrounding her.

"Because, after everything else that has happened today, we have to keep hammering on the classics, right? Keep giving me reminders…"

She swung her weapon once, in a wide, almost lazy arc.

Everything in the path of that swing, and a good few meters out from it as well, found itself cleaved in two…including the X-Ray that was still exerting its energies on the zombies.

"So how about I give you something to remember as well, hm? Marcos, stand back for a moment."

And then she moved.

Even augmented as he was, Simms couldn't see the movement. He was pretty sure that not even Falcon had seen it when it happened, and he easily had the best eyes of them all present.

The result, however, was undeniable. Everything that was still moving on the X-ray side just…stopped for a moment…before simply falling into two, or in the case of the last remaining power armor thing, multiple pieces. All of which were clearly down and unresponsive.

Her kid, Marcos apparently, quickly zoomed back from wherever he had ducked for the moment to survey the damage. " Wow, Mama!! All of that with just four swings?"

WHAT.

Four sw–no, there was no time for any of that. There was still an objective to reach, a city to save, and after that…then maybe he would get some answers as to how the hell a single mother with an archaic weapon was doing more damage to the enemy than his highly-trained troops.

Hopefully.

-=[/\]=-​

The Medical Center area was complete bedlam.

It seemed like everything that could be directed at the area was hitting it all at once…and judging by the literal berms of bodies surrounding the place, they were failing.

Miserably.

Even now, as Strike One moved in on their objective, the cause of said berms was making itself known and apparent, complete with the cacophony of light and destruction that only heavy las weapons could provide.

The setup only made Richie want to meet whoever was responsible for setting it up even more.

Much to the shock of everyone involved, the aliens were seemingly ignoring their advance onto the complex, instead doing everything they could to try and get something past the defenses…and failing miserably.

Granted, the sheer push was creating enough of a buffer zone that anything that wasn't them trying to make a break for the obvious safe location was going to die in the attempt anyway, but ti was the principle of the matter. You treated the enemy like they were actually dangerous and out to get you, not like worthless chumps who didn't know better. Not doing so was one of the fastest ways to get surprised by some newbie cape with an insanely powerful and/or expansive ability when you least expected it, after all.

Case in point, a group (he was tempted to call them a pod, but nobody but Virgil would get the reference) of Mutons was attempting to use the improvised berms as cover from the oncoming laser fire, only to get shanked in the back by little Marcos as he sped by, twin blades flashing as he moved. His mother was not far behind him, finishing up the job her son did not with clean decapitations of her opponents.

For their part, the XCOM guys were no slouches, either. Apparently fired up by the display of annoyed Raccoon Mom earlier against the Orb things, they had clearly stepped up their own game and were pushing ever harder in their own assaults, complete with using even more tinkertech-derived toys to tear into the enemy as they moved.

Well, it could also be the fact that they were moving their severely injured comrades with them, with hopes of accessing some medical attention once they got in.

Still, even with the clear double hammer punch being delivered by the obvious professionals and the mom-and-son duo, a hole in the attack wave was not appearing.

And they were running out of time. The "intelligent" aliens may have been ignoring them, but the Chryssalids sure as hell were not, and it was taking everything that both himself and Uber had at the moment to keep the fuckers off of the group…a fact that was made worse by the fact that the damned things were apparently evolving in real time, now, or at least having the successive generations of offspring become stronger and faster than the last. The Weapons they had available were getting dangerously close to not cutting it anymore with the rapid escalation going on.

Besides, they were running out of ammo, and the spares were back with the Van, AKA not here. It was looking suspiciously like they weren't actually going to make it to their objective without somebody forcing the issue one way or another…and the consequences of that were likely to be dire.

"...Mama, what's that noise?"

Marcos had stopped for a moment, clearly straining to hear something and try to identify it by the noticeable twitching of his ears. Based on his focus, the noise he was hearing was coming from the south end somewhere…but even accounting for Marcos having better hearing than everyone else here, whatever was moving must have been loud as all hell to be noticeable over the din of combat, especially here.

And the only thing he could think of that was that loud was–

There were a series of *bloop* sounds suddenly noticeable over the din. Almost immediately after, there was near complete chaos as an entire section of the wall of bodies–and the aliens that were hiding behind it–were blown sky high.

And coming from the very direction that Marcos had been monitoring, down one of the somehow still barely navigable streets, was a military vehicle. Specifically, one in the distinct olive drab of the US Army…and mounting what looked to be a grenade launcher of some sort, complete with wisps of barrel heat from recent use.

Ritchie had to blink for a moment at the inconsistency he'd just noticed. This was Texas. In the middle of Summer. With a day that was already breaking 100 before the aliens showed up. How the hell was he seeing barrel heat?

Said question was soon answered as the vehicle opened fire again, and this time he–and everyone else–could clearly see the trails of energy from the weapon as it launched its payload at another section of the berm, blowing away yet more attackers and more of the built-up wall in the process.

Weirdly enough, the bad guys actually took this one seriously. A bunch of the other alien types, including one of the mechanized Sectoid bastards that had basically camped their van, almost immediately changed targets to try and take out the vehicle…what looked like a Bradley IFV, if he remembered correctly. Much to his surprise, the vehicle didn't immediately die in flames when the return fire hit, instead, some kind of energy field revealed itself, deflecting the energy-based attacks away from the IFV, leaving it free to counterattack without fear.

Naturally, XCOM was enthused.

"Oh HELL Yeah! Army finally got off its asses and got some work done, eh?"
Surprisingly, the IFV responded via an external speaker system. "Ah, you must be a marine to be bitching like that, then. See if the Army ever bails your asses out again, Jarhead!!"

That this was said while using a heavily modified M-2 Machine gun to mow down yet more aliens attempting to take the vehicle out removed what little sting was actually present in the barb.

"Anyway, heard from a little birdie that you guys were in the area and would probably need some help, so here we are!! And since we got all kinds of new and shiny gear to beat people up with, figured we could use it to deal some damage, right?"

That part caught Ritchie's attention. "New gear? From who?"

The speaker was obviously in a sharing mood. "Ah, you guys must not know. Our team ran into him during our push into the city. A Warrant Officer Green? He fixed our stuff up with some new goodies to keep us alive in this shitstorm. It's helping a lot, lemme tell ya!"

The leader of the XCOM guys perked up at that. "Wait, you met one of the Greens? We were supposed to be linking up with 'em around here and getting some help to clear the city out. You know which way he went? We need to catch up before he gets too far off."

"No need, Captain. You're in the right spot."

The newest voice in this conversation was arguably the weirdest of them all, considering that the owner was walking out of the hospital at the time.

The Hospital, whose entrance was still well over a hundred feet away and still surrounded by active defensive measures, making a lot of noise.

And yet, everyone had clearly heard her voice as clear as day, even him.

"Apologies if this is a little weird for you guys with the telepathy and all, but it's easier to communicate over the noise like this. I'll make a hole to get you guys inside and get your people patched up…especially that Rush guy, considering he was already flat lining before I got a hold on him. Move unless you want them dead, Captain."

The woman, clearly one of the animal hybrid people with obvious horns and a lizard tail, then looked directly at him. "As for you, Mr. Foley? You and your partner are going to be getting a crash course in Infantry combat tactics and field acquisition. I'm going to be using you two as pack mules for a bit while I hold things down here. And since I have no intention on either of you dying in the process, I need to get your gear up to spec before I send you back out. So don't get too comfortable just yet."

Before Virgil could ask the obvious question, a pack of the never to be sufficiently damned Orbs showed up, this time flanked by dozens of–wait, were those fucking Wanzers?

Not that she cared about that, as with nary a gesture, a particularly vicious cannon materialized itself over her shoulder and proceeded to completely annihilate every piece of opposition that had made itself known before they could even so much as get off a shot.

She even had the decency to look apologetic as she finally came within normal speaking range. "Sorry about that. Every time I try to poke my head out I get swarmed, and if I ever actually bothered to leave, the rest would just overrun the Hospital and break the safe zone. Which is why I need you two to go and gather stuff for me, and for Strike One, here, so we can actually get this clusterfuck unfucked sometime this month."

She then shrugged slightly, the small flame on her tail flickering as she swished it about.. "On the plus side, I have hot food if you wanna eat before you head out…"

Virgil turned to Ritchie. "They'll never believe us."

Ritchie could only nod in agreement. No, they would never believe them. Nobody would.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

And thus, the Battle of Houston come more or less to an end. Yes, I know l've left some loose ends in the air, but they will get covered next chapter. I've held this one off long enough.

To answer some preemptive questions:
Mio's defenses re that good, and the attakcers are that numerous. It's actually kind of ridiculous, and only the raw, unfiltered panic of the Ethereals is preventing them from shifting targets to something that isn't Mio's little holdout bunker, and part of that is that Satori literally dragged their air support out of the sky with raw Force. Kind of hard to top that without putting in direct appearances.

Virgil and Ritchie are rather obvious references for those who are in the know. Admittedly I swapped things around slightly, as Ritchie should technically be Kid Win if I was really going to dig the knife in, but it was easier to use U&L for this instead.

And sadly, Uber is not Black, despite the reference.

As for the Stryker/Bradley misidentiication? A combination of Ritchie being under stress, mis-IDing the vehicle, and Satori doing enough mods on the damned things by request to get them in the fight and mobile as SAR while the alien tanks are reconfigured for use by the Armor teams. It was faster than trying to make the Ayys IFVs work for Humans, and Satori could rig a power supply out of the materials on hand from the wrecks

Finally, Eidolon is still alive and will be mentioned next chapter, so don't panic. I just didn't feel like adding him in here. Expect to see the rest of the Triumvirate put in an appearance as well.