RP XCOM2: Liberation of Earth

[MarineAvenger]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Pinnacle Clash, Part 1”

Willow looked back at the girl and opened her comm channel. “Hey Kiki, everything alright?” The phantom asked curiously.

The Ranger coughed, and cleared her throat. “Sorry about that. Just spaced out for a second.” She turned back and rejoined her two comrades. Without warning, she redrew her swords, coated them with a sickly emerald green energy, and slashed upwards at the superheavy-armored Cleopatra. The swords themselves didn’t even make direct contact with the armor, but the arcs of psionic power they released passed through it and cut deep gashes along the Harrier’s chest.

Cleo let out a startled and pained yell, falling back as she moved back raising her rifle at her ally. “What the hell just happened?”

“I-I don’t know!” The other soldier drew her own sword and kept it handy, though did not really wish to rush in due to both it being a teammate, and because she knew her armor wouldn’t hold up if she got hit by the same attack.

“I see the PCS have been upgraded since I saw the light… some new stuff in here.” The Ranger cracked her neck, the glow from an Overdrive aura encapsulating her. “Oh, how unfortunate. It seems this body’ll be on a timer. Can’t hold all of my power, can you, Kiki?” Ember questioned her overridden form.

“Girls, get back!” The second officer ordered the two, Leon’s voice having been the one to address them. He sent retaliation fire towards the possessed Ranger, knowing Ember would want to toy with them given her track record.

The heatwaves didn’t go through the imbued armor of Ember’s puppet, but it did melt some of the plating to make it more vulnerable to future attack. “Hmph.” The Ranger rushed forward at the Grenadier, heated febrifoil blades aglow. “I’ve been looking forward to ending your life, Leon!”

Leon allowed Ember to get closer a bit more before his main gun was put away, rushing the approaching soldier with a flourish of his hand, meeting her swords with the glowing orange form of his own, calling on Bellum alone. “I’m sure you have.” He responded evenly. “We all have unachievable dreams.”

The Ranger grinned. “Cocky… that’ll make crushing your spirit all the more enjoyable.’ Ember pushed herself back from her opponent, moving to the side quickly and trying to sink one of her blades between his ribs. A frosty double-helix stood in the way of her sword, cutting halfway into it with a grinding motion not unlike a chainsaw.

“I don’t think so,” Atka riposted, holding her icy helix steady.

“Alright, fine… if you’re going to interfere, then I’m just going to do this the straightforward way.” Kiki’s body collapsed, the Ranger having vomited blood from some internal damage when the possessing psionic ‘spirit’ left her.

Off to the left of Atka and Leon, a group of ADVENT soldiers fell to another one of Ember’s metabolic slashes. The First Captain herself approached in person, though she was different than the last time XCOM had fought her. The seven red highlights on the front of her now-long hair stood out, but not as much as the elongated, spear-like shape her shoulderpads had taken on. Two alien eyes with white pupils and two-layered red-green irises stared at the freedom fighters alongside Ember’s arrogant grin. “Say hello to the new me. And Praclaritas, of course.”

I have notified your father that we have located XCOM’s Commander. He should be arriving any minute, the Silicid reported with an ‘audible’ telepathic message.

“I probably won’t need his help, but his presence will seal the deal. Hope you’re ready to suffer in your final moments, because this is the end of the line for you,” Ember informed her hated foes.

Bradford made his way to standing beside his Commander, holding his weapon in front of him in a non-aggressive way across his chest. “This can only mean one thing. Are you… ready for this?”

Atka nodded grimly, sliding her anti-tank rifle into her hands. “I’m ready. This ends today.”

As if on a cue, the backup mentioned from before came in haste. The Colonel stepped out behind Ember with his black plated armor, long coat and sleek black mask covering his face. Crossing his arms, he stared down at the XCOM forces, though his red gaze was kept on the woman he had not seen in a long time. “It seems all these years culminated into this, hasn’t it Atka?” He asked with his voice masked with that mechanical tone.

“It could have been different. You lacked the resolve to endure what I have been through. You chose to run away, and to stand idly by as your family was corrupted into perversions of themselves!” Atka returned with an ireful gaze. “This is the future you created. I hope you’re happy with it.” Her icy helixes wound together, and formed into Blue World at her side. “You’re about to reap what you’ve sowed.”

“Your overconfidence lends credence to the notion that you’ve never lost your arrogance either. You’ll soon learn just how my resolve has fortified itself.” Drawing his rifle, Desmond reached out to Ember telepathically. Remember, we bring her alive. Try not to forget that.

Fine… I can let you handle that. Leon’s mine. Ember’s fusion blades glowed a demonic orange, and she let Praclaritas activate Overdrive for her while she physically enhanced her muscles to arrive within melee range of her opponent in a matter of seconds. Right. Left. Right. Left. Her swords moved with a fury that was hard to follow. The man that had once been her lover was nothing but a target now that she would obliterate with gleeful precision.

Under the weight of her assault, Leon held strong, his sword deflecting the blows of her swords as quickly as she made the strikes. In his head, Psyma calculated every movement and anticipated her movements, allowing Leon the skill to match her speed. Still, with only his sword for defense he was left at a disadvantage and decided to even the playing field. As he blocked both her swords at once, Leon’s eyes glowed brightly, his will being fortified with a deep down desire to bring back the girl he once loved. The glow encapsulated him as Fortis wrapped itself around him, Pacem’s shield forming on his left forearm which he used to strike her back from the gut.

The First Captain slid backwards, her crimson-colored cape billowing behind her from the force of the strike. She seemed more or less unharmed, though, and hardly winded. “I see the chips aren’t the only thing that’s been improved upon in the past few months. Though it won’t be nearly enough.” Ember focused an imbuing charge into her fusion swords, and funneled power into her skeletal structure and arm muscles. On her next attack, she planted her boots firmly into the ground - Praclaritas creating temporary spikes on the bottom of her greaves to add to the rooting effect - and delivered a monstrous blow with her blades crossed. The hit wasn’t meant to kill, instead it succeeding in blasting her opponent across the street and through the wall of a nearby violet-colored building. Ember stalked after him, following the trail of destruction he’d left behind on his arc into the structure.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Pinnacle Clash, Part 2”

“Leon!” Atka called out worriedly. She didn’t go after him, having her own problems to deal with as she faced off a former lover of her own.

Desmond quickly advanced upon the Commander of XCOM, starting off with a couple of blasts from his rifle as he ran towards her, firing not to hit but to keep her distracted as he closed the distance between them, determined to make it a close range battle from the previous knowledge that she was a good shot, and wasn’t about to take his chances with her rifle.

Rather than attempt to dodge the magnetically-accelerated bullets, Atka had Blue World absorb the damage. The time-traveling astronaut was dented by the shots, but was as durable as a suit of superheavy armor. And, realizing what Desmond was doing, she tossed her rifle onto her back - forgoing it for her impulse revolver - and kept the reflection in front to protect herself.

Looking at the thing in his way with frustration, Desmond formed his own small reflection, the small bird -with a color that danced as if it was made of fire itself- flew towards her. It built up energy and the glow intensified until it burst into a blinding light, a sword being drawn as the Colonel tried to bypass the reflection and go straight for the woman.

While she couldn’t see, Atka had another means of determining her opponent’s current course of action. With considerable effort, she managed to worm her way into Desmond’s mind for a moment, reading his thoughts to get a bead on his plan. Blue World was recalled to her, the reflection’s form masking Atka’s own and defending it from the blade slash that followed. It won’t be that easy!

None of this is easy. Never expected it to be anything less! What came next was a step into the unconventional as, instead of going for an attack with a weapon, he used his control of telekinesis to send a strike at the woman from the opposite side he was attacking from. With an opening made, he then sought to attack her protection directly with a strong torrent of psionic fire.

The superheated flames licked at Blue World from all sides, requiring Atka to surround herself with a cryokinetic mist to avoid being cooked from inside her reflection. The Commander, not content to be stuck on the defensive and be whittled down like an amateur, decided to do something out of the box as well. She pressed a button on the wristpiece of her wraith suit, simultaneously dismissing Blue World. The power armor caused the Commander to become immaterial for a few seconds. That was long enough for her to ghost through the flames like a specter, and pass through Desmond as well. Running out behind him, Atka became corporeal again and shot at his back.

Atka wasn’t the only one with control of some ESP, and the power allowed Desmond to react faster. The blue laser left a tear in the jacket and a deep score in the back plating of his armor, but left no serious damage. As he turned to meet her, his own revolver was pulled out as he fired directly at her gut. The bullet narrowly missed her side, as the lightning reflexes built into the Commander’s PCS acted like a watered-down version of precognition. The dodge idly reminded Atka that, should she survive this battle, learning the real thing from her sister might not be a bad idea. Focusing on the matter at hand, the Inuit woman launched a mental attack at the Colonel, pumping psionic power into a potent mindfray.

Desmond recoiled, moving back in pain as his resistance against that form of attack wasn’t quite as built up as he had hoped. The best he could do at that moment was try to keep distance and wait out the effects. Atka took advantage of his desire to get away from follow-up strikes to pull back herself. The cool steel casing of Direwolf rested in her hands oncemore, and the veteran soldier quickly lined up a shot with the ATR and squeezed the trigger.

With little movement being an option, Desmond was forced to let Phoenix try and protect him, the reflection taking the bullet in quite a literal way, slowing the laser’s entry into Desmond’s armor plating. It melted away the mask, the device on his face rendered next to useless. He was forced to pull it off lest the molten metal threaten to sear his skin. He stared at Atka in a fury, gritting his teeth. “You know, you seem to place the blame on me so quickly Atka, but you are just as much to blame for all of this. Your vendetta was all that mattered to you in the end.”

The Commander narrowed her dark blue eyes. “You knowingly abet a slaughter, willingly rule a dictatorship, and callously seek to plant your boot atop those that desire freedom. An assessment of my character means little from a traitor to his friends and humanity at large. And while I may have only cared at revenge at my lowest points, I’ve grown,” Atka retorted vehemently. “I’m not sure how much you learned from Yakone before you let them twist her into a monster, but I had hardly been a mother to her in the past. Recently, though… I’d started to try and mend things. Happiness seemed within reach for both of us. You and the Protectorate are what stands in the way of that.”

“Let?” The Colonel hissed his anger rising internally. “You think I liked having my daughter - a daughter I never even had known existed until her capture - become a puppet for an alien’s plans? You have a twisted sense of reality if you think I could ever agree to that. As for my position, there are people worse then I, Atka, who could have sat where I did. The world could have suffered much more at the hands of someone who wasn’t looking towards its well being. And I’ve come to terms with what happened during the defense all those years ago, and I have my regrets but I make the best of what I got. Being drawn into ADVENT was a decision that I embrace even with all the shit that I have to slog through. You talk about how hard you had it after the war, but you weren’t the only god damn one!”

“And what’s your endgame, huh, Desmond?” Atka shot back, sliding a fresh power cartridge into Direwolf. “You have no idea what your alien masters really want at the end of the day! Once they’ve cured that disease of theirs, they won’t need humanity. They could turn them into another slave race if they wanted, and you wouldn’t be able to stop them when you’re so busy bowing down!” The Inuit woman shook her head. “Even if they grant Earth the ‘heaven’ they promise, it won’t be worth the cost. How many people have to die for your ideal future? Ipiktok, Yaralria, Madeline, Ross, Miriam, Damien, Christine, Russell, Carlos, and Grant are just a few of the many names I can remember! And countless more are lost forever in the vats they melt us down into.”

“You overestimate the power ADVENT truly has.” The Colonel had slid open the receiver of his revolver and was reloading it as well. “You either deal with it or you die, and I wasn’t about to let a more unstable puppet into my place. As for my ideal future, I’ll let you in a closely harbored secret of mine. My ideal future died long ago. The best I have hoped for all these years was to find something left on this planet that mattered to me and hold onto it. And I found her. Not in the way I have hoped, nor wanted, but at least having Yakone, or Ember or whoever is enough for me. You denied me that chance. What I do, I do for her. I’ve been granted permission enough to keep both me and her safe. Now I will fight with all my power to see that dream come true.”

“You selfish, shortsighted fool. You would let the entire world bleed just for the sake of yourself and one another?” Atka’s expression twisted into renewed hatred for the man she stared down through the scope of her rifle. “A wise man once told me to never give up hope. And as long as I’ve clung to it, I keep moving forward. I’ll do both, dammit. Yakone wants to see a brighter, freer future! She’ll never be satisfied without it.” Her eyes shined as she used her physical enhancement to boost her depth perception. “I’ll make the dream she desires come true, and save the world in the process!” Atka yelled defiantly, firing her gun.

Desmond this time was prepared, and had the inferno inside him ready to call on. Desmond’s eyes glowed a violent red as his own physical enhancement kicked in, causing him to move into action with rapid speed. Her bullet missed its target and the ADVENT Colonel responded back with several shots from his revolver, firing them all in rapid succession to one another.

 

[MarineAvenger]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Pinnacle Clash, Part 3”

The building that Leon found himself in when he came to his senses was reminiscent of - at first glance - an ampitheater. The main room was circular in shape, and rose several dozen feet up with rows of chairs in every direction. The purple lightning and various sconces that were set up around the area suggested that it wasn’t a conventional theatrical stage, however. Instead, banners hanging from the balconies displayed (in both standardized Protectorate writing and various European languages) propaganda about the Path, and hinted at sermons discussing topics like ascension. It was a church dedicated to the alien religion.

Leon pushed himself up slowly, holding his head as Fortis slowly began mending the cracks in the armor. “Damn it. Didn’t expect her to do something like that.” The soldier forced himself to his feet, rolling his shoulder. “Now where the hell is she?”

His question was soon answered as the door on the balcony above him was kicked in, and the crimson-armored soldier stepped through. She had her plasma PDW in hand, and opened fire on Leon from the high ground. Oddly, her eyes were closed, yet her aim was as impressive as ever. Her trigger discipline was better, although her attack patterns were a little more predictable.

The knightly-clad Sinclair moved to the side, diving behind a row of pews that would give him the momentary cover he needed to recollect his thoughts, trying to formulate a plan. Something came to him -as patchworked and in the moment as it was- and he didn’t waste any time in implementing it. Leon’s weapons shifted before him and quickly grabbed the spear from his arsenal, turning about and hefting it. He tossed it as hard as he could, disappearing. Moments later he was above her, falling down with the lance point headed for the nape of her neck, trying to get her from behind.

Surprised, the First Captain wasn’t able to respond in a timely manner - and the lance point caused the protective shield around the former Ranger’s head to waver violently. Barely enduring, she slid backwards. The stomach portion of the Crimson Regalia formed into a maw-like mouth, which stated in an unsettling garbling tone, “Two can play at that game.”

An alloy katana swung at Leon’s back, and dug a crevasse into his armor - additionally sending a pulse of metabolic energy that caused wet blood to drip from his shoulderblades. “Surprise,” Ember spoke through the Advent Assassin she had seized control over.

Damn it! Leon thought in his head, turning away from the two attackers. Breathing heavily with adrenaline flowing through him, the Grenadier looked at all the options before him and enacted the second part of his plan. From the shimmering orange cape, two metallic spheres fell to the ground as Leon threw his spear once more and blinked away to where he had been. The things he left behind were high explosives with the pins already pulled. Moments later they blew.

The balcony was blasted to bits by the explosion, and down tumbled the Praclaritas-controlled armor and the Ember-possessed soldier. Both landed with some measure of grace, but the explosion had damaged their armor. In particular, the Assassin was bloodied in several areas that began to quickly bind, but nothing could be done about her armor. The Crimson Regalia, on the other hand, quite literally ate some of the metal rubble around itself, and restored the rents in its form to be back to 100%.

“Neat trick,” Ember growled, taking out the Assassin’s sniper rifle and aiming it at Leon. “Allow me to be more straightforward.” In contrast to how Praclaritas was using her gun, Ember’s style was exactly like Yakone’s. Unpredictable but accurate. The first shot that rang out punched a deep, localized crater in a structural support pillar dangerous close to Leon’s head. Rather than continue to fire, Praclaritas advanced, using the PDW at first until he arrived close to the Grenadier. From there, he used leg servos to vault towards Leon and slash at him with the two swords in his possession.

Leon did not exactly know how to face the threat in time, but luckily he wasn’t the one who had to. Fortis left the soldier’s body and advanced forward with sword and shield in hand, being able to be more offensive without having to worry about the flesh underneath to protect and the two met headlong into one another. Meanwhile, Leon’s Febrigun was on hand and ready to be used, the Grenadier pulling it out once more, sending out several blasts towards the possessed Assassin.

Ember’s puppet responded to the threat by momentarily ducking behind a pillar. The heatwaves started to melt it down, but by the time it was a puddle the Assassin had vanished from view. The First Captain had taken to the shadows, and Praclaritas had brought Fortis up onto the other side of the first level balcony, out of sight from Leon’s position.

With a threat possible from all sides, Leon replaced his main gun with his pulse pistol in case the hidden assassin tried anything too close where the unwieldy large gun would be too much of a burden. He moved towards one of the unbroken walls, determined to have his back covered when he didn’t know the position of his enemy.

L-Leon… your shoulder.

I’m fine buddy, just a flesh wound. Funny how this is all turning out, huh? Don’t think we’ve had our asses kicked this hard yet.

This is no time to be taking this lightly… The A.I. chastised his protector.

Got to. If I don’t, then I may just lose out all hope. He said with a finality too it. He knew how badly Psyma reacted to negativity, and the last thing he needed was his friend out of commission due to him.

One thing that Leon hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Ember was using a disposable pawn. From the balcony, she dropped down and rushed towards Leon. The pulse shot he let out ground against her overdrive field and managed to penetrate it, scorching the flesh of the Assassin underneath. The grimace the soldier’s visage made was masked by her helmet, but ultimately Ember didn’t care. This was an ideal opportunity to weaken her opponent further. Drawing her arc blade, she slashed across Leon’s gun-arm, sending volts of electricity along the man’s form and drawing more blood - this time directly. “What a wonderful crimson that is!” she cried out in delight at the sight.

Shocks rushing throughout his body was about the worst pain Leon had ever felt, feeling all over as if it had been momentarily singed. Still, he was a fighter inside, and with what strength and motor function he had managed to get out his own blade in the form of a combat knife he kept handy in his armor, lunging himself forward and going for one of the exposed wounds in the armor he had made before.

Seeing the imminent death for what it was, Ember vacated the body. A cry of surprise was elicited from the Assassin before the blade punctured something vital, she went cold, and knew no more. The woman that had used her like a chess piece returned to her suit of red armor, and jumped down - unified with Praclaritas oncemore. “You have no idea how good it feels to wear this armor… to share my thoughts with Praclaritas,” Ember mumbled with a hint of sensuality. “But killing you will feel equally good, I’m sure.”

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Pinnacle Clash, Part 4”

Direwolf on her back again, falling back towards the place where she’d seen Leon involuntarily fly into, with a dip in her reserves of willpower, Atka was beginning to run out of options. Despite his style being more bursts of energy that sustained energy like the Commander of XCOM, ADVENT’s Colonel had used his abilities strategically and was beginning to reap the rewards of his methods. Additionally, her worry about Leon’s status meant that she needed to go assist directly. I have to figure out a plan. His armor’s been worn down, and he must be getting as tired as I am regardless. I just need to make an opening for myself. A spark of inspiration hitting her, Atka brought out her icy helixes as she entered the Path Church.

Desmond followed after only a second behind, more tired then he outwardly appeared. He had burned through a lot of energy during his assault and was reaching the point where he wouldn’t be able to do all out psionic attacks anymore. Still, he kept on a brave face and entered in soon after. Atka didn’t have a chance to look for Leon, and instead put her plan into action. She sent another watery helix into Desmond’s skull, looking to use more of an unraveling mindfray than a full-power attack. She stretched his nerves thin, inflicting what anxiety she could. Then, she sent one of her icy helixes towards him, aimed to the right slightly. The Colonel was easily able to dodge it, but when his eyes flitted to the reflection weapon that zipped by him, the other shot towards him - much more on-target than the last.

Desmond’s eyes widened and made a split second decision, wavering on account of his fatigue. He quickly built up power and released it outwards, fire rushing from a hand he swiped across the air, a wall of thermokinetically-charged fire following after it soon after. Atka’s frozen implement was heavily damaged by the blast, and struck with much less force. Desmond added a psi lance to the mix not long after. The Commander was left with an immediate problem: she wouldn’t be able to block the attacks. Cryokinesis wouldn’t cut it against the incredibly hot inferno racing towards her. There’s nothing for it! “Blue World! Rewind time!” The icy helixes vanished, and the Reflection appeared in its place surrounding its user.

This time, five seconds were reversed. Atka found herself in the moment before she would use her icy helixes. Knowing what would probably happen if she did, the Commander hesitated. Instead of attacking, she used the Reflection that - to Desmond’s eyes - had appeared out of nowhere to defend herself from any attacks he could send at the moment, and looked around the room for her third-in-command.

She found him with his back to a corner, left with nothing but really a knife to defend himself with. In the moment, Leon wasn’t left with many options except one that came to him in the spur of the moment to try and dissuade the insane Ember’s advance any further. His launcher came into his hands and he loaded up a grenade into it. He aimed for the ground at her feet and launched the capsule out. It bounced against the ground and rolled to a stop, not doing anything because -as her suit of armor soon realized- it hadn’t been set to detonate. While Ember gawked in disbelief, Leon had time to go for the pistol he had dropped before, picking it up with his left hand and firing.

The shot hit straight onto her forcefield ‘helmet’ and managed to break through. The blast scorched the flesh on the side of her face, but as the small puff of smoke from scorched carbon dissipated, it appeared that she’d been able to imbue the skin in time. It was torn away for the moment, and blood rolled down the side of Ember’s face. She laughed. “That was… very, very close… I’m impressed, Leon.” A pulse of green caused the wound to quickly seal itself. “But almost,” the First Captain remarked, closing to melee distance with Leon at last, “isn’t good enough!”

***​

Dreamscape Wedding Hall

The blinding white radiance dimmed, and for a few seconds Yakone could see again. She broke the kiss, and as Leon stepped back, the smooth wooden platform vanished from view on his side - along with the beautiful rug and the groom himself. The black, yawning maw of the void lay before Yakone now; the lightless, vacant future was revealed to her for a moment. Then Leon was back, and everything returned to normal. Yakone felt drowsy, and the startling vision became obscured by the shadow of pleasure overwhelming her once more.

***​

Leon’s eyes widened, having nowhere to go to avoid the attack, no simple way out. Psyma yelled inside of his head but it all came to him in a buzz. Leon was wide open, and deep down, he knew this was the end. Ember smiled with the widest grin she could manage. The despair on his expression… it’s so perfect! She ignited her fusion blades, and thrust them forward.

***​

Suddenly, Leon’s face twisted in horror - a desperate plea that made Yakone falter. It lasted only a little longer than the previous hallucination, but now the Canadian woman knew something was wrong.

“L-Leon?” she asked, worry clouding her eyes and weathering her features. “Are you okay?”

“What are you talking about?” he whispered calmly, cupping Yakone’s chin with a warm hand. “You’re imagining things… come here,” the groom beckoned, moving his bride’s face towards his. Yakone still felt apprehensive, but closed her eyes again and gave into the illusion.

The bursts of conscious thought had come too little and much too late.

***​

Leon thought it would hurt more at first. That when the blade pierced him, he would feel agony more excruciating than he had ever felt. However, the feeling was one of both heaviness, and lightness. Warm streams trickled down his chest and down his lip. A cough escaped the Grenadier as blood followed with it as well, the man stumbling forward as his legs felt too weak to support himself.

Atka’s eyes widened in horror. “N...Leon!” She tried to call upon Blue World’s power again, to defy the way the Reflection worked for the sake of Sinclair. But reality ensued. She could not turn back the clock so soon after she had done so already. What was done in this case… was done.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

Yakone’s eyes flashed open as an agonized scream stabbed through the air. She recoiled in horror. It was Leon’s voice that cried out with a deathly finality to it, yet it had not come from the groom that stood before Yakone, looking concerned.

“Yakone? Are you alright?” the Canadian man asked softly.

“S-something isn’t right… this isn’t…” the bride mumbled.

“Everything’s fine, just rel-”

“-No! Something’s not-!” Yakone blurted out, squeezing her eyelids shut for a moment - trying to think. A sickening squelch soon followed. Yakone felt a pit in her stomach. Chancing a look, she was mortified to find a sword of alien design in her shaking hands - the blade driven through Leon. “Wh-wh…” Yakone stuttered in shock. “This isn’t… I didn’t…”

Realization cut into her. What Ember had done. What she had done. “No… no, no, no, no, no!” Yakone screamed, her eyes bulging. “I have to… to … to do something!”

The fake Leon shattered into tiny shards of dreamy glass, along with the fusion blade that had run him through. A heat wave rolled through the chapel, melting up the white plaster on the walls and causing the alabaster paint to peel off in wet strands. The stained glass windows distorted even further, their light breaking into unnatural patterns that shot in directions not physically possible. An intense drowsiness washed over Yakone like a jet of superheated geyser fluids, threatening to render her unconscious.

Sleep, an almost-angellic voice whispered from all around Yakone. But there was something underneath. Concentrating hard and struggling valiantly to maintain her grip on her reclaimed wakefulness, Yakone discerned the garble underneath for who it belonged to. Rest forever, and be troubled nevermore.

“I-I refuse,” Yakone growled through gritted teeth, her tone animalistic in its singleminded determination. “You won’t take Leon from me, you goddamn bastards!” she roared in denial.

A pair of eyes with dilayered irises and white pupils appeared on the front of Yakone’s wedding dress. Your willpower is unbelievable at times, Ember. But you will not compromise yourself.

“Shut your damn mouth!” Yakone snapped, clenching her hands over the clothing and yanking on it. “That’s not my goddamn name!” With a mighty tug, she tore off the wedding dress - tossing the chunks created by the violent motion off her bare body.

I will… need your assistance, Ember, Praclaritas noted, the pieces of his mental form hovering in the air before there was a flash of red light and Ember stood surrounded by him. The large scraps of cloth coalesced onto the younger Verrater as she stared down her other self. The form they took was the black clothes of a funeral director, complete with a crimson tie. Her swords were on her hips.

“You need to quit ruining my fun,” Ember spoke with a cold fury, her metal gauntlets and Praclaritas’s shoulderpads being added to her dreamscape garb. She surged forward like a black tidal wave, faster than Yakone’s eye could move.

Yakone leapt narrowly out of the way of Ember’s charge, then stumbling down the stairs in a moment of fearfulness - ending up between the pews on the main carpet where Brigid’s flowers had all wilted into brown husks. “What the hell…” Yakone shook her head, taking a fighting stance. “It… it doesn’t matter! I can’t lose to you here.”

Ember twisted her neck to face Yakone. “You’ll fail.” Her body followed suit, and she started striding forward. “Together with Praclaritas I can’t possibly lose. I’m better than you’ll ever be.” Without warning, the 1st Captain lunged again. This time, the thrust of her gauntleted claw did not miss. Rather, it pierced Yakone’s sternum, and Ember tore out the woman’s heart through her back.

Yakone’s eyes went wide, and she coughed up a fountain of sanguine fluids. Her vision swam from typhoon waves of pain, and she only momentarily clung onto life through what willpower remained in her fading thoughts. “N-not… like this…” she begged to whatever higher power might be listening.

The First Captain shifted her arm slightly, tightening her grip around the faintly beating organ in her grip and eliciting a spray of Yakone’s lifeblood that jettisoned out of her body. “Look at the color of your blood,” Ember beckoned with a devilish grin. “It’s crimson. It’s destiny. My destiny. I’m going to wipe you out here and now, and forever be rid of any trace of remorse. Leon’s going to die in agony like he should, and mother’s next. Then the rest of them’ll follow.. I’ll smash the Resistance, Exalt, and any that dare interfere the Path - and my path - into dust. And I’ll enjoy every… fucking… second of it!”

The light started to fade from Yakone’s eyes. “Goodbye, Yakone Ipiktok,” Ember declared, withdrawing her hand and letting Yakone’s body slowly fall backwards towards the floor.

Ember, she’s-! Praclaritas warned.

“Not dead,” the pale and bloodied freedom fighter murmured hoarsely.

There was a flash of surprise in Ember’s eyes. Yakone had managed to rebalance herself, and the mangled freedom fighter had shot a hand forward. Her crimson-stained palm clasped around the hilt of one of Ember’s fusion blades, and drew it from its sheathe. Ember grabbed the other sword.

Each blade separated the air with a slash. There was the morbid sound of flesh being split, and one of the blades clattered to the ground - its wielder no longer having the life in their body to cling onto it. The one slower on the draw collapsed onto the ground. A moment later, the head of the slain combatant rolled onto the ground. An expression of shock and remorse was etched onto the features of the decapitated face of Ember Verrater.

Yakone, having ducked low, was unharmed - other than the gaping hole in her chest left by her wicked double’s vicious attack. “There’s… just one reason you lost, Ember,” Yakone muttered, grappling with the pulsating pain throughout her body. “I already conquered my pride. You were just my arrogance warped to an even greater extreme.”

Staggering but not tumbling off her feet, Yakone strained to pull her ruptured psyche together. The wedding hall started to twist and turn, the walls spiraling in on themselves. The entire dreamscape dilated as the blissful fantasy that had chained Yakone began to spin away. “I’ll make that dream a reality one day,” Yakone hoarsely whispered, the pain of her astral form being shredded nearly to a breaking point being equivalent to the realization that this happy daydream was a cruel lie.

The Inuit-Caucasian balled one of her hands into a fist, an emerald-hued glow enveloping her as she healed her battered body. “I don’t deserve that sort of happiness without realizing it with my own force of will. I’ll earn that future, dammit.” With that declaration, the dreamscape folded in on itself, and was restored to its proper form. The statue of Yakone’s humbled pride - now bearing resemblance to Ember - was back on the walls of her familiar dojo.

Yakone wanted to just bask in the mental retreat in relief, but she knew keenly the urgency of the moment. Time moved slowly outside of the dreamscape, but even a few milliseconds were precious if she was going to have a prayer of saving Leon.

***​

Ember’s victorious smile was replaced with the grim visage of Yakone. Her forehead wrinkled as the biokinetic programming and lingering Domination fought for control. Yakone, ultimately, won this fight much easier now that Praclaritas’s illusion had been shattered into a million pieces. The XCOM soldier was able to unwrite the implanted directives with her own biokinesis, and her willpower was enough to sever the sustained suggestions compelling her to obey the Protectorate. “Stay the fuck out,” she growled in a low tone as her link to the distant Honored Overseer was forcibly severed.

Leon’s time was running out, but Yakone still couldn't rush to his side. One obstacle remained in Praclaritas, who was attempting to lock Yakone’s armor up. This isn’t right! Bring back Ember! the panicked Silicid pleaded, unable to comprehend the total annihilation of his charge.

You were created to serve me! Yakone railed against the Europan. So help, dammit!

I was created to serve Ember and the Protectorate! I shall not-

 

[MarineAvenger]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Pinnacle Clash, Part 5”

“Then get the hell off of me!” Yakone shouted tersely, pumping physical enhancement into her arms to override the resistance of the immobilized armor’s mechanisms. There was a horrible grinding noise as psionically-enhanced muscles battled elerium-powered servos, but Yakone just barely won out with that burst-style power she used. The soldier reached down, and procured her swords - using them to cut off the back plate of her armor. Metal rent, and some of the Silicid’s blood went flying as part of him was pulled away with that particular alloy plate. The rest of the alien, though, was integrated onto Yakone’s spine.

She tore him out anyway. Gauntleted hands seized the gray mass on Yakone’s back, and she ripped Praclaritas out with all her might. Her vision swam with foreboding black spots that accompanied an acute agony that caused her to loosen animalistic howl. The Silicid came free, and the woman’s regenerative abilities spared her a nervous system breakdown. The neural pathways rebound themselves at random points over the course of two seconds until Yakone’s psionics were operating properly again. She didn’t spare any time to restore the missing chunks of flesh on her back though. She blotted out the pain with concern for Leon, terrified that she would be too late.

“Forgive me,” she whispered apologetically before yanking her weapon out of him. Yakone would later reflect that her decision to face her pride was more significant than she had given it credit: for ever since that day she had been able to use her biokinesis to affect others - although Ember has first used this talent for her metabolic slashes in order to hurt others. An emerald glow shined from Yakone’s right hand as she tossed the bloody blade aside with her left. Quickly pressing both palms against the lethal wound, Yakone binded together the ruptured arteries and organs first.

She had no time to waste on dampening the pain. Guilt was for later. Fighting through the heartwrenching noises from Leon, Yakone stabilized him. His life was narrowly saved; his death was barely averted.

Across the church floor, Desmond stood looking at the display that had unfolded in the corner of the room, having a vague sense of what had happened. He looked over at Atka and in her completely distracted state, now was the perfect time to strike. Something deep down told him to stay his hand, that for now the battle was at least paused, if not conceded for the time.

The choice ended up allowing the Colonel to notice something he would not otherwise have made out. On the second level balcony, there was something incongruous. Something that shouldn’t have been there. A lanky Mimic was perched amongst the pews, with a plasma sniper pistol trained downwards. His gaze following its path, he realized at whom it was aimed. The target was Yakone Ipiktok. Seeming to deem that the XCOM soldier had regained control of herself and therefore had been compromised, the thin man didn’t hesitate. He shot to kill.

“Yakone!” Desmond yelled at the top of his lungs, worry wrapping around the man’s heart. Unfortunately for the Mimic though, worry was not all that was there. Overpowering that by a large margin was the total collective hate for the aliens beneath it all. From Desmond -where once before the bird he released was small- the one that appeared now was anything but. The evolved form of Pheonix was that of a massive flaming bird, two large wings outstretched wide with tail plume able to be curled like a third wing. The bird took the shot easily, the body of it shimmering only briefly only to be replaced by brighter flames. A force overtook the alien’s mind, causing a searing pain to envelope every facet of its being. Soon those mental flames became corporeal as the body of the alien spontaneously combusted, flames leaving every orifice. The thin man fell to the floor nothing more than a flaming pile of meat after that.

Atka had to take a moment to process what had happened, but once she had the Commander lowered her guard. After a long silence, she said, “It would appear we no longer have a reason to fight if the aliens have decided she’s expendable.”

“It would appear not.” Desmond responded gruffly, the anger left behind from the assassination attempt on his daughter a long way from subsiding. Still, Desmond somehow found it within to dispel the mighty bird he had summoned, though what had been its fuel still roiled under the surface. He was the first to take steps forward towards the Ranger.

“That was… pretty fucking cool,” Yakone noted weakly. The damage she had done to her back to get Praclaritas off was still healing, albeit slowly - indicating that the green psion had more or less burned herself out through copious power use and the internal struggle she had undergone.

“That? Please… it was nothing.” Desmond said, dropping to a knee as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you o-... going to be okay?”

“Nice catch…” The Inuit-Caucasian grimaced in pain. “I’ll be fine when I don’t feel like someone was riding a jackhammer on my head. That’s honestly worse than the spinal pain right about now.” Though Yakone’s expression quickly fell, suggesting that the emotional agony was worse than either of those two things. “H-Hey… Psyma… you there? He’s… going to be alright, isn’t he?”

The small artificial intelligence manifested himself above Leon, a hand pressed against his own chest, the color of the little guy seeming much too dim. “If we get him in a bed and give him time his body should acclimate the rest of the way. Right now he is just in shock. Once his body and mind recovers he will be healthy.” Psyma answered rather robotically, sounding about as broken up as the programmed individual could. He reached up, wiping an eye as he glanced up. “W-Welcome back…”

Yakone nodded gravely, not able to smile at the moment. Trying to push away the darker thoughts - at least for now - she looked back to Desmond. “Call off your soldiers,” she requested. “This shouldn’t have to go on any longer.”

There was a deep sigh from the older man, and for a moment it seemed like he would give her an answer she wouldn’t want to hear, but surprisingly enough, his head nodded. “It’ll have to be done. There’s no walking back to ADVENT now though. I’ve lost Nouja, you, and basically stopped the will of Vekinte himself by saving both you and Leon.”

“How many of your troops are loyal to you?” Atka questioned, making her way over to the others. “Any clout you have would make this fight against the Protectorate a lot easier.”

“A large portion of them. If you needed a figure I would roughly say two-thirds. I’ll be sure to relay the retreat signal to those stationed here loyal enough and leave the rest for the aliens to pick off. As for the rest, I have other means to reach them. Where would I send them to though?” the Colonel asked with a raised eyebrow.

“In the cities you can control, have them stand and fight,” Atka replied quickly. “The fact that you came here allows me to accelerate my plans. Believe it or not, Desmond… I have a way to topple the aliens’ control of this planet. There’s a group called Exalt that’s infiltrated the political spheres of the Coalition… and if they tell the truth to the portions of the population that didn’t find out just what the aliens were doing, the soldiers loyal to you can protect them and revolt against the Protectorate. If you understand now that you can’t appease the Protectorate… that they have to be fought and beaten… then the Resistance will gain much bigger fighting chance than they ever did before.”

There was a slow nod from him, the man looking to the ground. “It’ll be done. But I will still be their leader. I hope you realize that.”

“I wouldn’t expect that anyone else would be capable of commanding them.” Atka shook her head. “I have my way of doing things… you have yours. We have a common enemy right now, and at the moment all that matters is that we cooperate to see them destroyed. We’ll have time to vehemently disagree on what the world needs in the future after we free it from alien influence.”

“I’d be more disappointed if that wasn’t the case. First order of business though…” Desmond looked to Leon and Yakone without having to articulate the thought further.

Atka nodded. “I’ll get them home.” She lifted a hand to the side of her helmet, and began the process of informing her freedom fighters of the ceasefire, of her instructions to return to the Avenger, and of the fact that their lost Ranger was coming home.

 

[MarineAvenger]

Exordium

Somewhere outside the Matterhorn
Inside the ADVENT Command Ship “Mandragon”
0400 Hours, December 12th, 2038

Desmond walked across the scaffolding towards the bridge of the ‘Mandragon’, one of the oversized ADVENT dropships the ex-Colonel had commandeered to act as his command center until more suitable accommodations could be found. The ship was the proper mix of a VTOL and jumbojet, having been what had brought several of the tanks that had partaken in the Siege of the Matterhorn. As promised to the Commander of XCOM, the retreat order had been given to his remaining troops stationed around the city and with haste they moved out. Now, a huge fleet of ships both small and large were making their way across the European landscape with only a semblance of a goal in mind.

Currently the man wasn’t wearing his armor, giving it away to be repaired so he could be back in fighting action, and instead was wearing the black jacket with jeans he wore most of the time back home at the ADVENT tower in Chicago. A brief memory flashed in his head about the briefing he had adjourned with his remaining captains, but he suppressed it for the moment. Those plans would need time to develop before he started adding another thing onto the pile of worry he had.

The automatic doors of the deck opened and all eyes turned to him. Those standing saluted while those sitting at their terminals nodded in acknowledgement of his presence. He strode past them and ascended the stairs that led to a raised platform located above and behind the pilots. A terminal console sat in the middle of the platform with a rotating holographic of the ADVENT symbol flipped upside down and colored white instead of red.

Desmond took a deep breath and prepared for the words he were about to speak, looking over to the communications officer who approached. “Connect us to all ADVENT channels.” There was a nod from the officer and he tapped in some commands. Now was the time.

“This is a broadcast to all ADVENT troops worldwide. This is your commanding officer Cain Verrater, operating code Delta Whiskey 2247. This is a communication to tell you all we have been betrayed. Time and time again we have given into the will of the aliens who now think they own this world of ours. Time and time again we were told to merely submit for the better future we all strive to create. I’m here to tell you that the Elders have lied to us all for far too long. To them, we are just passive creatures who will bow to their every word merely because they say it. It’s time to show them just how wrong they are.”

The ex-ADVENT commander stood straight and spoke with a hardened tone of resolve. “I am no longer keeping the name they forced me to use. For now on, I am Desmond Walker, and you will all know me as such. This is a plea to those loyal to me to rise up against these false prophets. Those in the megacities, rise… up! We can’t allow ourselves to be victims to these betrayers any longer. Gather up the citizens you can and escort them to the safety of Resistance cells. For now there is a ceasefire between our forces and those of XCOM.”

Desmond reached down, transmitting the new symbol of his forces to all who could see it. “No longer will we be known as the advent to our alien overlords. No longer will we fight for the benefit of the Declensions any longer. We fight for a new dawn. We fight for a new Earth. For now on, we are Genesis. And we will win. This will not be easy. There will be times of despair, and times where it seems the fight isn’t worth it..." There was a pause in his speech, Desmond putting his hands against the console to speak more personally.

"But know that we will all be there behind you, the brothers and sisters fighting alongside and abroad. This won’t be merely a fight between us and the aliens…” The man looked across the deck to the eyes that were looking up at him, and his face hardened with resolve, and his attention went back to the console. “This’ll be a goddamn war!”

There was a yell of cheers from the command center, and Desmond knew that across the fleet those cheers would be echoed, and possible across the world. “Godspeed to all of you and good luck. Let’s win us back our home.” The broadcast was cut off and the man slowly allowed himself the chance to breath, rubbing the back of his neck. There would be a lot of work trying to command the world uprising, but somehow he would have to do it. Atka was depending on him. His daughter was depending on him. And now, the troops below him were depending on him.

He turned from the console and looked out the main window at the landscape that moved before him with a stern look. From that moment on, the leader of Genesis made a solemn vow to win. I’ll see you again one day Yakone. I promise. Keep her safe… Atka.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

End of Phase 2: "Escalation"​

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

MarineAvenger & ZombieSplitter53
Calling an Old Friend
Part One

On Board the Avenger
Information

"Make sure we get the word out to every resistance cell," Joe told his crew with vigor. "We don't want our new allies being shot, but make sure they know there is a difference between ADVENT and Genesis."

Since the return of his wife, a New fire had been lit in his heart, one that only burned brighter with the return of Nouja and Yakone. The guilt he felt was still there. It likely would always be. But it was overtaken by his desire to do right by the ones he felt he had wronged.

Another seemed to be doing the same, if for his own reasons. In that sense, they had something in common. Joe had thought long and hard of the last few days as to whether he should leave things be. Finally, with a note to the Information staff that he needed some time alone, he finally decided it was time.

Stepping into his office, he sat at his computer and took a sip of coffee, his first for the day as he was trying to kick the dependence on caffine he had started to develop. Opening the proper channels, he spoke. "This is XCOM ship Avenger calling Genesis ship Mandragon. Are you receiving me?"

"This is Communications Officer Ghalad. We are recieving you." A voice responded back, a man of light skin spoke with a slight arabic accent. "What is it?" The Genesis officer asked.

"This is Head of Information Joseph Chambers. I... have some information for Desmond Walker. Is he available to talk privately."

"I will see." The man stepped away and for several minutes Joe was left in nothing but silence.

Finally, there was a response from someone on the other end. "Going out of your way, aren't you?" The Genesis leader spoke gruffly.

Joe smiled. "Well, what was supposed to say? Call your boss, an old friend wants to say hi?"

"Wasn't what I meant." Desmond responded tersely, crossing his arms. "Why are you calling?"

Joe frowned. "Like I said. To... say hello to an old friend." He looked at Desmond's posture across the screen. "Former friend, it appears from your body language. Guess it was silly of me to think you'd have anything to say to me..."

"It's been a long time since we've even talked at all. Lots of things have changed. To expect everything to merely... Remain how it was..." The soldier shook his head slowly. "It's too much to ask. But since you went through the trouble, I suppose we could catch up. I heard reports Vahlen and your wife were alive."

Joe nodded. "One of my three great sins was bringing her and my children to that base. Losing her was losing part of myself." Joe took a deep breath. "Things have been uneasy. I've essentially had learn to love someone again where I closed my heart off. But we're making it."

"You two always were annoying to see as a couple but you guys were meant for one another. You'll be fine." Desmond rubbed his graying stubble a bit awkwardly. "Alexis has certainly grown up. At least from what I have seen from video logs."

Joe nodded. "Both my girls have. Jennifer's brain is so packed with knowledge now, I don't know how it doesn't burst out of her head. And Alex has grown so strong... I'm so proud of her, even if I'm terrified every time she goes out there." His eyes dropped a bit. "I'm glad she..." He fell silent.

"Come on man, spit it out." Desmond told the other man a bit sternly.

Joe sighed. "I'm glad she never... ended up fighting you. I had these nightmares... that she would face you in battle, and... well, it never ended pretty."

"Cannot really tell who is who behind a helmet, Joe." He said, not exactly seeming offended. "Not like they wear bells around their necks."

Joe nodded. "That said... if you had fought... and you did know..."

"Capture would have been my goal. Not to kill her." Desmond responded with a growing hint of anger.

Joe chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "No need to get irritable, Desmond. I... I figured you would say that. I just needed to hear it from you, okay?"

"Hmph. Sure. I am not ignorant Joe. I know how people like you see me. I'm the monster in the closet to be feared. I'm your enemy, and I doubt well after I am dead that that fact will ever change. You guys are all going to be big heroes. The freedom fighter who saved Earth. I already know how the history books will see me." The soldier said with resignation, closing his eyes with a scowl.

Joe might have faltered years ago. But not today. With an angry glare, he snapped, "Hey, I called you because I remember good times, and this was the first time in two decades we have had a chance to talk! I had no intention of lecturing you on the differences between our ideals. I don't appreciate hearing t from you!" He scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Damn it... you really have changed. I was a fool to think we could actually carry on a conversation..." He slowly shook his head, leaning forward again and reaching for the escape button.

"You want to know the worst part about what happened after I left the original XCOM? The fact there was nothing I could do when the aliens drew me into their organization? I was alone, and all I had to look forward to was ascending the ranks. You can call me whatever you wish, but ADVENT was all I had those two decades. People like you... I'm jealous you can go on with a light at the end of a tunnel. There's no light down the paths I have ever tread." Desmond stated, not opening his eyes to look at his ex-friend. "None of you know what it feels like to be completely alone. None of you."

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

MarineAvenger & ZombieSplitter53
Calling an Old Friend
Part Two

Joe sighed, and lowered his hand. "I understand, Desmond. In my eyes... you made the wrong call. You should have stayed. But you didn't, and I know how hard that has been. I know how empty it must have been. I've never thought otherwise. That's why I called. Because I know how lonely it is. Like I said, I'm not here to judge you. Only talk. Only... say I miss my friend. Now if you don't believe me... if you think I'm just like everyone else... that I wouldn't care if you died... then I'll leave you alone. But just remember that some of the biggest misunderstandings in history have started with someone uttering the phrase 'people like you'."

His eyes finally opened but they were pointed towards the ground firmly, the man clenching his jaw in annoyance. "Should have dropped your woman back in XCOM. Her influence is corrupting you."

Joe chuckled grimly. "What do you mean?"

"You've become more of a sappy pansy." The soldier jabbed dryly. "Married life sure drags men to low places."

"Yeah, well... it makes me happy. If being a sappy pansy is the price I have to pay..." Joe shrugged. "Did you ever... look for anyone, Desmond? I mean... a man with your position... surely you could have found a nice girl to make you happy."

"What do you think?" He asked with a bristled tone. "What would have been the point? Never would have been the same."

"Well, I'd argue against that... but then I didn't look for anyone either..." Joe took a deep breath. "You know I understand why you did what you did. Becoming an necessary evil to prevent another, worse evil from taking your place."

"Wonderful. And I'd like to know how you understand that. I'm not the person I was twenty years ago. I am not even the same person I was a week ago." Joe soon couldnt help but take notice Desmond's hand kept flexing and unflexing in anxiousness. "So tell me what exactly you know."

Joe tapped his fingers impatiently against the desk. "Desmond... do you want me to be angry with you? To hate you? Are you upset that I'm not trying to judge you? Because I can do that, you know? I don't have to give you understanding. I can give you contempt. Might not have been able to years back... but you're not the only one who has changed. And you're not the only one who has suffered."

"Maybe I do want to be hated. It's easier to be hated by many then trying to earn the approval of them. I've gotten good at turning people against me. Just look at Atka." The older man took on a solemn face, grumbling to himself. "Sometimes I wonder if meeting me was the worst thing to happen to her. If I am being honest... Probably."

Joe laughed, a serious laugh like her had heard a funny joke. "You're pretty stupid for someone who rose through the ranks as much as you did. Guess ADVENT doesn't check for brains. Otherwise, you would know that isn't true. Not even remotely."

Desmond however was not laughing. His frown deepened. "What are you on about?"

"You gave her Yakone, Desmond," Joe answered. "That alone is worth meeting you. And while you were together... she was happy. It might have made her bitter to lose you the way she did, but there was at least some happiness. That's why it hurt so much. And no matter what, she can never truly hate the relationship you to shared because it produced your daughter. The two might not have always been the closest, granted... but they're getting there."

"And I'm happy for them..." Desmond mumbled out, intending for Joe not to hear the first semblance of truth he showed since taking the call.

He did, however, and nodded. "I'm sorry, Desmond. I wish things... could be different." He looked away. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. For what it's worth... and know it might be nothing for you, but... I never regretted our friendship. I might not be in the same place as someone like Atka to say that, but it is the truth."

"Yeah... Me neither." The Walker admitted with trepidation. "How is it? Being... Having a family? I've never known with the whole... Raised by a brother who died out at war. Then left behind a relationship that barely got going. I want to know."

Joseph hesitated for a moment. "It's... good. Really good to be honest. It comes with it's problems. Nothing is perfect. But there is a sense of unity. A happiness that comes with seeing your children succeed. An elation when you lay down with... with your special someone at night."

"I see." The soldier responded simply, looking to the side. "We are heading back to North America. Decided to take the fight there."

"Seems like a good place to start. You have a lot of loyal people there." Joe paused for a moment before asking, "What do you think your chances are?"

"I can't say. I don't know the exact numbers that defected with us. Hopefully we can get it liberated though one operation at a time."

Joe nodded. "Yeah. I wish you luck out there." After a moment of silence, he finally said, "I'll... let you go now. I hope I didn't bother you."

"Tell Alexia and Jenn... I wish 'em luck. They probably don't want to hear it from me personally. Wouldn't blame them if they hated me just as much as everyone else. Okay?"

Joe nodded. "I will. Be careful out there... old friend."

"Don't get sentimental on me. I might start having to care back." With a wave of his hand, the Genesis leader cut off communications from his end.

Joe stared at his blank screen sadly for a moment. He wasn't sure what he had expected. That could have gone better. "But I guess... it could have gone a lot worse too," he mumbled to himself before going off to continue his work.

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

The Price of Victory

The Avenger's bar was alive with the sound of levity. The battle was one. The city was theirs. XCOM was on their way to winning this whole struggle. Many had been lost, but everyone was feeling lighthearted and happy. The jukebox was sending out beats that rocked the whole room. Morrigan in particular was tapping her foot to the beat, feeling much better then she had in quite a while. Daniel was dead, Yakone was back, and in a sense, she had her revenge against her tormentor. Still, she couldn't help but feel a bit off. "Don't you think this might be a little... premature?" she asked the women drinking with her.

Alex and Jenn exchanged a smile. "Nah!" they said together. Jennifer elaborated by saying, "You fought a hard battle. You all deserve to celebrate!"

Morrigan slowly nodded. "I guess. Just... the people we lost..."

Ayame guzzled down her third drink and laughed. "Of course we're mourning them. But they would want us to celebrate their sacrifices that got us here! Right everyone!" The entire bar cheered, everyone raising their glasses. "Besides, we have the memorial for a reason."

Alexis nodded in agreement. "Next stop, shoving a gun down the Protectorate leader's throat." Another round of cheers went out.

Morrigan smiled, but looked down at her drink. "It's good to be enthusiastic, but... we shouldn't just... get ahead of ourselves, or underplay how important... I mean, the Mavericks..."

Jennifer laughed. "They're just fine, Morrigan. I talked to Olivia. They're a little down, but they understand their sacrifices weren't in vain."

Ayame scoffed. "Look, Morrigan... we have all lost someone important. There is a name on the memorial that we're all equally sad about. Why don't you... pay your respects or something. It'll make you feel better, and maybe not be such a downer."

Morrigan let out her own scoff, and stood up to do just that. She stepped over to the memorial in the bar, and looked over the names. "We did it, guys," she said silently. "The war is far from over, but we... um..." Her eyes locked on one name in particular. "W... w-w-why... what is..."

Ayame placed a hand on Morrigan's shoulder. "Yeah... we all miss him too."

"We found out who killed him, you know?" Alexis said softly on her right. "We know her name."

"It's 'Morrigan O'Brien," Jennifer said on her left.

"And know... it's time to get our revenge." Ember grabbed both of Morrigan's shoulders and turned her around. With a quick motion, she stabbed Morrigan in the belly. Ember grinned as she pulled out the small knife and stabbed her again. And again. And again.

Morrigan coughed, blood trickling from lips. "Y-Yakone... p-p-please. I..."

"Ssh ssh ssh." Ember gave Morrigan a sympathetic look as she placed a finger over Morrigan's lips. "It's okay. Just one hundred and one stabs, and your punishment will be over. It's okay... don't struggle." She stabbed again. And again. And again...

*****

On Board the Avenger
The Bar

"Morrigan!" Alexis shouted for the third time, shaking Morrigan's arm.

Morrigan's head shot up, and she looked around the bar in confusion. "W-what... where..." She looked up at Alex for answers, subtly placing a hand over her stomach.

"We went to get drinks, remember?" Jennifer placed Morrigan's in front of her. "I know it took us a while, but I didn't think you'd just... fall asleep."

"S-sorry." Morrigan rubbed her eyes, wiping away a tear. "Haven't been... sleeping well lately."

"Yeah... I hear you." Alexis sat with them. She looked around the bar. Despite the recent victory, things were a bit glum. The jukebox was playing something slow and quiet. People were happy that the battle was won, of course. But this conflict had been the most trying so far, and it showed that things weren't getting easy anytime soon. What's more, the death of many had left everyone's hearts heavy. Many had come to pay their respects and the memorial and drown their sorrows. The loss of half of Maverick squad in particular left a bitter taste in everyone's mouth. The return of Nouja and Yakone seemed to be the only positive thing people talked about.

"How's Ayame doing?" Morrigan asked, looking over at the glum Jianshi in the corner, staring sadly at the memorial wall.

Jennifer sighed. "She's been sitting there for the last thirty hours. Just... staring..."

Morrigan nodded, and stood up. She drank half of her beverage, feeling the warmth of the alcohol in her throat, and walked over to the petite soldier. She sat next to her, and said nothing. Morrigan simply wrapped an arm around Ayame and held her close.

The pair were silent for the longest time, even as Jennifer and Alexis joined them. Finally, after several minutes, Ayame whispered, "I knew them all. Some more then others. I was... never a part of them. But they let me hang out with them from time to time. First they lost one... now four more..."

The younger Chambers sister closed her eyes. "I've... grown close to Olivia. I have to admit, when I heard that she had made it... I was relieved. Then immediately felt guilty that I was relieved just because my friend..."

Ayame looked up at her with tired eyes. "Don't... beat yourself up for something so small. It is human nature. Whether it was wrong or not, it is just how people are wired..."

Morrigan squeezed her friend a little tighter. "Where is Tomislav? Why isn't he here supporting you?"

Ayame slowly shook her head. "I didn't want to bother him. He... has his own things to deal with..."

"Are you two okay?" Alex asked. "Ever since you guys fought that Sectopod..."

Ayame was silent for a few seconds before saying, "It's... a bit personal. But we're okay. He just needs his space."

Alexis felt she was hiding something, but didn't press. She lifted her drink and stood up. "Can I... have everyone's attention." It took a few seconds for everyone to quiet down. Someone turned the jukebox off, and the bar was silent. "I'm not much of a public speaker. That is more my dad's thing. But... we did it, everyone. We have this city. We have a new ally. ADVENT will be in shambles with Des... with Walker on our side. And we got Nouja and Yakone back." She took a deep breath. "I know... everyone is down because of our loses. But I believe... I know they are looking down on us, smiling." She lifted her drink. "We're winning this one. No doubt about it. Anyone want to call me a liar?" No one did, a few people smiling and laughing. "Well good. So... drink up, boys and girls."

There were several murmurs of agreement across the room as something slightly more livelier was played. Alexis returned to the others, and Ayame gave her a small smile. "Not a bad speech."

Alexis shrugged. "I tried." She rose her glass. "To friends lost... and friends recovered." The others nodded in agreement, raising their own glasses before drinking to that.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601, Dahlexpert, and ZombieSplitter53: “Home, Part 1”

Alpine Megacity “Matterhorn”
1024 Hours, December 12th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 3, Port Wing
Unused Room

Yakone slipped one sleeve of her plaid blue jacket over her right arm. She tried to spread out the other to accommodate the opposite sleeve, but a sharp pain shot through her spine at the motion and left the soreness that had lingered all last evening and throughout the morning more pronounced than before. “Ow… ow… dammit.”

“Let me help,” Atka offered gently, stepping behind her daughter and slowly lifting the younger woman’s left arm up and into the comfortable fabric of the medium coat. “Don’t push yourself.”

“I’m not trying to fix it with my biokinesis. Chandra already gave me plenty of stern warnings about how I’d burned myself out with all the stunts I pulled.” Yakone smiled faintly, if only for a moment. “She hasn’t changed, I see.”

“She’s a rock we can all anchor onto for stability,” the Commander remarked with a nod. She looked over her daughter, who had removed the red highlights from her hair and donned her canadian graffiti shirt, black jeans, gray boots, and Yankees cap. The Inuit woman was very much in approval of the return to Yakone’s original look, though not everything was the same. The scars from Bombay’s claws lingered over the left side of her daughter’s face. Atka hadn’t mentioned that the culprit was captive in the Avenger’s cells. Now isn’t the time. Yakone’s hair was still long as well; the Inuit-Caucasian had not gotten around to cutting it. “Well… you’re all dressed up now. Ready to get out of this room and talk to the others?”

“...I don’t know that I should,” Yakone stated briefly, trying hard not to betray the sea of unease rolling her her stomach.

Atka picked up on it anyway. “Yakone…”

“Look, Atka… I… I don’t know if I can face any of them. The people I called friends, I…”

“Hurt them, I know.”

“I hurt you too.” Yakone closed her eyes, fighting to keep the water starting to rim them from flowing down her face. “I hurt damn near all of you. Killed plenty of soldiers rebelling against the Protectorate, too.”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” Atka insisted worriedly. “You couldn’t have stopped them from… from turning you against us.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t know that.” Yakone clenched her fists in helpless misery. “Maybe I could have resisted. I sure as hell did back at the Forge. If I’d been stronger then… if I’d tried harder to break free… maybe I would have been fighting alongside you guys to help keep this city free. Instead, I was out there… murdering its defenders and reveling in it.” It’s honestly hard not to hate myself.

“You shouldn’t hate yourself, Yakone. Please, don’t-”

“You read my mind, didn’t you!” Yakone cried out in surprise. “Who the hell gave you permission to…”

“I’m just looking out for you!” Atka returned, frustration creeping into her tone. “I want to help, dammit.”

“I don’t know that you can.”

Atka sighed, letting the tension leave her with an extended exhalation. “I’m sorry, Yakone. I shouldn’t have pried. I just…”

“I’m not going to hurt myself,” Yakone interrupted her, wiping her eyes. “That won’t accomplish anything.”

“I worry you might let someone else hurt you as proxy,” Atka replied uneasily.

Yakone turned around to face her mother, smiling tiredly. “You know me better than I realized.” She wrapped her arms around Atka in a hug. “I appreciate you being here for me, mom.”

Atka’s eyes grew a little misty, not having expected her daughter to call her by that name. “Love you, Yakone. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Love you too,” Yakone mumbled, cherishing the contact for a bit.

Atka allowed it, remaining in blissful silence for awhile. Finally speaking up again, she reiterated, “you need to see the others. You’re going to do more harm by making them worry than reminding them of the monster you had been turned into.”

Yakone sighed. “You’re really not gonna let this one go, huh… since when were you miss socialize?”

“You’ve been gone a few months. People change.”

“At least this one’s a positive upgrade…” Yakone chuckled quietly, and separated herself from her mother. “Okay... I’ll go make the rounds. You know it hurts like hell to run though.”

“Then walk,” Atka sagely advised.

“The ‘no fun allowed’ part of you hasn’t changed,” Yakone complained.

“I didn’t stop being a military woman in the past few months.” Atka smiled for a moment, before sternly stating, “take it easy. You’ll avoid pissing off Chandra, and you’ll keep the pain to a dull ache. You need to move around for more reasons than upsetting the others though. Can’t have one of my best soldiers getting muscular atrophy.”

“Alright, alright… I’m going.” Yakone went to the door, opening it. “See you around, mother,” she said with a trace of her normal sardonic attitude before heading out.

***​

Alpine Megacity “Matterhorn”
1033 Hours, December 12th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 4, Central Block
The Mess Hall

Luke and Lilith sat in the mess hall next to the Chambers sisters, Morrigan, and Ayame. Luke was seated in a wheelchair, not for his injuries but from exhaustion and his body being weak from repeatedly using his powers during the siege. Lilith was positioned next to him with bags under her eyes from looking from the scope of her DMR during operations throughout the protracted battle. “Ugh my body is tired! ”Luke cried out in exhaustion. Sighing, he declared, “Thank God this is over. I loved the fighting, and I’m glad that my kill count skyrocketed, but my body is drained.”

“Well yeah, I would imagine. You were blowing up their tanks, killing god knows how many enemies with your fire and psi lance. You blew up the good part of a block of the city and gunned down the soldiers there. While also destroying cars, barricades… you were just on a personal warpath, weren’t you?”Lilith said to Luke, drinking her coffee.

“The Commander told me to clear a path, so that’s what I did.” Luke smiled at the thought of the work he did for the past few weeks.

“Yeah, well… don’t forget the smaller stuff.” Alexis sipped from a cup of cocoa. “Nouja might only be one person, but I’m still proud I helped get her back.”

Jennifer shook her head. “It’s not a competition, you two.” She slowly smiled. “Besides, Alex, if remember correctly, Morrigan was the one to jam that thing home to fix her messed up memories.”

Morrigan blinked a few times, looking awfully tired. “Huh? Oh… yeah. I try. I mean… I did what I could. And I didn’t have anything big like blowing up tanks or Sectopods.” She glanced over at Ayame. The short warrior seemed to only be half listening to the other, staring down at a cup of cranberry juice like she might find answers at the bottom of it.

Yakone chanced a look around the corner, peering inwards at the table at which the group of friends sat. Alex and Luke seem to be having a good time… and I’m not sure my presence would do any good for those that aren’t. She’d agreed to Atka’s request, but the Ranger still felt sick to her stomach. The young woman that had almost never been shy found herself feeling all-too ready to turn and sneak out the way she’d came.

Ayame’s eyes darted about, feeling something in the air that made her quickly look back towards the entrance. “Y… Yakone?” she called out, and the others looked over themselves, falling silent.

Yakone blanched, and stood in the doorway. She couldn’t think of a reply, and merely responded with the slightest of waves, unsure of what to say or do other than that. The other stared at her awkwardly, equally uncertain as to what the right move was. Finally, Alexis stood up, nearly knocking over her drink had it not been for a quick save by her sister. Alex made her way across the room and wrapped her arms around her returned friend, holding her tightly and desperately trying not to burst into tears. “Welcome home,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

The Inuit-Caucasian smiled languidly. “Thanks, Alex,” she responded quietly, returning the embrace with what courage she could muster. “Good to see you again.”

Luke looked at the two women, and whistled. “Hey, Yak, why don’t you come and sit down with us? It’s been a while and there’s always room for more.”

“If… you’re alright with it.” Yakone hesitantly approached, taking a seat on the end of the table. “Been about… two and a half months, right? I had to ask Atka about it… was hard to keep track of time for a… variety of reasons.” The tension in her tone was palatable.

Lilith took another sip of her coffee, and looked at Yakone. “Well it’s nice to see you again Yakone, I never faced you as Ember but it's great to have you back even though you and I don’t talk much.”

Jennifer cleared her throat and mumbled, “Ex-nay on the Ember-ay, Lilith.”

“Jenn, it happened. Trying to deny it would be asinine. Look Yakone, we're glad you're here, and back home. I’m just glad you only killed ADVENT solders. Yeah, they were on our side, but they were ADVENT. You didn't kill anyone else, so there’s that.”

 

[ZombieSplitter53]

DarkGemini24601, Dahlexpert, and ZombieSplitter53: “Home, Part 2”

“They weren’t Advent,” Yakone contested with self-depreciation poisoning her voice. “They were on the same side as you. I know all too well that those people had aspirations… families… I might not have known who they were personally, but it’s worse than the usual killing we have to do here. For once they were doing the right thing… and I snuffed them out like they were nothing.”

“You’re both wrong.” Morrigan’s eyes shifted between Lilith and Yakone, and she put a hand on the latter’s shoulder. “Why do we keep talking about everything like ‘Yakone did this’? ‘Yakone did that’? Yakone didn’t do a damn thing. She wasn’t in control. At all. Anymore than Nouja. Anymore then if one of us was mind controlled, or had one of those brain slugs in our head. I know it is hard to accept, Yakone. And you’re going to struggle with it. But you weren’t responsible, and I’ll kick the ass of anyone who says otherwise.”

“I appreciate the loyalty,” Yakone said softly. Even if I’m not sure why I deserve it after the things I’ve done, before and after my capture.

Morrigan nodded. “Of course. Would you do anything different if it was me? We worked hard to assure that you could come home… and that there would be a home to come to. Right?” Morrigan looked over to Ayame, who was avoiding eye contact with Yakone, and nudged her. “Right?”

Ayame jumped, and nodded her head. “R-right. Y-yeah… of course, sorry…”

“You alright?” Yakone asked the Jiangshi anxiously.

Ayame lowered her gaze. “Yeah… y-yeah, I’m fine. I just… fine…”

Jennifer looked at Ayame suspiciously for a moment before nodding in understanding. “It’s okay, Ayame. You don’t have to be like that.”

Ayame didn’t look up. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do,” the green-haired scientist insisted. “This has to do with that training you were doing…”

Ayame sent her a death glare. “Shut… up.”

Some of Yakone’s bangs obscured her eyes for a moment, the Ranger lowering her head slightly. Placing her hands on the table, she stood up. “I… should really go. I’m just causing trouble by being here,” she acknowledged. “I knew this was a bad idea…”

Ayame gave her a guilty look, and quickly stood up herself. “No, please! I just… it’s my fault. I shouldn’t… w-when they had you… I didn’t know if we could get you back. So I insisted that everyone fight you… fight Ember… like they might need to kill her. That there might be no other way. I-I… I wasn’t abandoning you, I just… wanted to be… careful…” Her gaze slowly lowered, and she held her hands in tight fists. “No… no, I’m making excuses. I’ve just lost people before and… I-I did abandon you at first. Even if I changed my tactics, I… I don’t deserve to be your friend. These five believed all along they could get you back. I’m just… so sorry, Yakone…”

Yakone chuckled grimly. “That’s… what you were agonizing over?” The Ranger shook her head. “You were being reasonable. I nearly killed Leon… I wouldn’t be surprised if he was holding back. If you guys had been forced to face me in a serious fight… I would have wanted you to take the safe route. To make sure you all returned home, even if it meant ending my life. Don’t beat yourself up, Ayame… you were given a hard decision, and you were making the rational one.” The Inuit-Caucasian started to walk away from the table. “I’m… just gonna leave you guys alone. I’m not making anything better by sticking around here.” I don’t know how I can begin to atone, but this isn’t the right way to do it.

“Please, don’t go,” Alexis insisted, stepping after her and gently but firmly grabbing her hand. “We… we all missed you. Just having you around makes us feel better. And… a-and we have so much to catch up on! I mean, Ayame fought one of the walking tank things, and Luke roasted a giant monster, and I’ve got my shields so advanced now, I…” She laughed nervously, desperate to keep Yakone here. “I-I bet I could kick your butt now. You stand no chance against my defenses.”

Yakone swallowed dryly. “You don’t need me to enjoy yourself. Please don’t make this harder than it is,” she whispered hoarsely. “I just want to leave you alone. My guilt… and the things I remind you guys of now… just makes everything worse.”

Luke had remained silent for most of their conversation, but now he slowly got out of his wheelchair. His body immediately wanted to fall to the ground, but Luke pushed himself and walked to Yakone and hugged her. He tried his best to stay standing. “We missed you, alright? Look I understand your feeling guilty. Hell, I probably understand more than them. You’re thinking maybe if I was stronger, maybe if I did something differently, maybe I shouldn't have gone on that mission I was last on. Look, I understand you're in a lot of pain right now thinking how things could have gone differently.”

“Please… just…” Yakone whispered incoherently.

The Grenadier stopped hugging Yakone and looked into her eyes. “But you fought Ember. You were stronger then her. The fact the aliens needed to use other methods to control you says that they knew that you could not be controlled by them your mind is stronger than what they thought.” Luke lightly punched Yakone arm. “So keep your chin up you won you beat them, so come on sit down and stay with us, I’m sure Alexis would love to tell you how love life is going.” Luke felt his body going limp.

Yakone’s hand shimmered with a darkened hue of emerald, pouring a surge of biokinetic energy into Luke to sustain him so he didn’t fall. “Just stop it, already!” she shouted in aggravation. The Inuit-Caucasian thrust a hand out to the side. “You all owe me nothing, dammit! Even before they turned me into a monster, I did nothing to deserve this sort of compassion! I was an arrogant, angry bitch that hurt nearly all of you at some point. You’d have been better off with me gone, if I hadn’t humiliated you in battle and nearly killed each and every one of you! I deserve nothing but contempt and a cold shoulder.”

“And you want to talk about Ember?” Yakone shuddered throughout her body. “Mind control or not, that was the darkest parts of me taken to an even worse extreme. The things I did as her… they showed me just how much of an animal I can be. How cruel, how heartless, how violent and overconfident… that was all me in some way. I deserve hate, if anything!” Yakone felt as if she were going to vomit, the exertion from the use of her psionics and her rant driving her to her knees. She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Just… stop… please… stop hurting yourselves for my sake. Stop trying to defend me.”

Everyone stared at her in silence, not sure how to respond. Alexis and Ayame both looked like they were going to move to her side, but were afraid how she might react. “Maybe… you’ve been too pushy,” Jennifer finally said. She stood up and walked to Yakone’s side. “We’re sorry, Yakone. And everyone here knows that deep down, some… some of what you said has some truth in it. So we’ll leave you alone. Let you… get your bearings again, and trust that you’ll come back to us when you are ready, not when we’re ready. We’re obviously forgetting how much you’re hurting, and we’re being selfish.” She offered the woman a hand to help her up. “Just please… when you’re reflecting on this, think about whether the old Yakone would have admitted everything you just did, or cared. You admitted it. You obviously care. So… maybe you’re not as bad as you think, huh?”

Yakone shakily pulled herself up. “I don’t deny that I’ve changed… it just might be too little, too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Jennifer said gently. “Lilith was in ADVENT. Luke was a street thug. Ayame, uncaring to the world. Morrigan a drone to the aliens’ actions. And Alex could be quite the bitch herself.”

“Don’t forget the close-minded wallflower that has only recently started leaving her room,” Alex added.

Jenn rolled her eyes. “It is never too late,” she repeated, and stepped back to give Yakone space. “Like Luke said, this is always room for one more. We will be here when you’re ready. And you will be ready to see us again. Have faith in you, even if you don’t have faith in yourself.”

After a moment of silence, Yakone muttered, “I guess I’m just being stubborn again, aren’t I?” She took a step back. “I’ll take my leave now. Cut my losses.” Her back turned, and she stepped out of the mess hall.

Jennifer stared at the exit with a sad look before returning to her seat. “I hope I did the right thing.”

Alexis took hold of one of her sister’s hands. “I think you did. We all love Yakone. And I feel she knows it. She just has to learn to accept it… and hopefully learn to love herself again.”

“Right. Also, Jenn, don’t go telling everyone what I used to be. Not everyone knows I was gangster and I want to keep it that way,” Luke said, feeling a bit better after Yakone healed him.

“Oh, shut up you, anyway Yakon needs time... eventually she will be back to normal. I’m sure a certain purple haired woman could help her... or a vampire.” Lilith stated, finishing her drink.

Alexis and Ayame both nodded, exchanging a small smile.

 

[DarkGemini24601]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Dry Courage, Part 1”

Alpine Megacity “Matterhorn”
1902 Hours, December 15th, 2038
Onboard the Avenger
Floor 4, Starboard Wing
The Medical Ward

Two main sounds broke what would otherwise be utter silence in the medical ward. The first was Leon’s heart monitor, which beeped every five seconds on the dot. The noise was too regular to be annoying, and it should have been calming. But to the person seated in the chair to the side of the unconscious soldier’s bed, nothing would be soothing in this situation. Yakone produced the second noise: an irregular, anxiety-filled tapping of her foot.

She considered leaving. This wasn’t the first time she’d thought about running away from a situation involving him. And last time, staying had only led to conflict that nearly burned their relationship down to ashes. This seems like an even worse idea than talking to the others. Yakone wanted to just get up and go. How would he be able to get over what she’d done? It didn’t matter if it was Ember. It was the same visage that watched the light fade from his eyes with a sick glee. That image would haunt him, surely.

I can’t blame him if he hates me for that. If he’s moved on, and now I’m an even bigger source of pain than I was for the others, Yakone thought to herself, so many sources of melancholy hanging over her like a dark thunderhead. But something compelled her to stay. Perhaps it was the guilt - just another facet of it. I do owe it to him to at least be here… to put this to rest if that’s the way it has to be. But back and forth she went. Though Gwen would be a more welcome face. Maybe I should have someone bring her in here.

Yakone placed her face in her hands, sighing in frustration with herself and at the way the situation seemed impossible to figure out or draw any victory from. “I must look pretty pathetic to you, huh, Psyma?” she asked aloud, though was half-expecting the A.I. to not even speak to her considering how pallid he had been when she’d last seen him.

Surprisingly enough, like in the church, the companion did show himself, sitting atop of Leon’s slowly rising chest cross legged. The androgynous looking pre-teen looked up at Yakone with his all too wide eyes that now after so long just seemed to fit him perfectly. “Why would I ever be a proper judge about being pathetic? I-I mean look at me… practically speaking, I am one of the weakest of my brothers and sisters. I get brought down easily, I… I get frustrated quickly… I-I’m a right mess, ya know? But as far as concerning you… at least… I don’t think you are pathetic. Quite the opposite. Being honest, I never expected you to show at… at all.”

“I definitely considered not coming here. And I’m not sure I should stay until he wakes up,” Yakone admitted dejectedly. “I screwed up so many things before being captured. Burnt so many bridges. And the things I did as Ember… they only further ruined the good things I had.” The Ranger looked down, rolling her baseball cap in her hands. “I only brought the mood down when I tried visiting the people that had once been my friends. Jenn had some kind words… and she’s right… to some extent. I’m not a completely reprehensible person… but only the most evil of people are that way. That doesn’t mean I’m a good person either.” The Inuit-Caucasian chuckled sadly. “And the parts of myself I’d consider redeeming? They all seem absent now. How the hell can I call myself courageous if I can’t even face Leon? Or any of the others… that’s pathetic. That’s cowardly.”

There was a nod of understanding from the sentient fragment, putting his hands together in the middle of his lap. Psyma looked down, and after a few moments hesitation he said, “He… he missed you a lot though. He was frustrated a lot… and really angry. One time it got so bad he… he trashed an entire room in a fit of rage. It was never directed at you though. He always… blamed himself. There were a lot of regrets he had after you were gone, and there were days… where he trained from dawn till midnight all so he could just one day be with you. I don’t think you need to put a label on your actions at all, in my opinion. It was always a mystery why people… categorize themselves so much when it would seem leaving things to be in the moment would make things a lot more honest and simpler. Even if I am guilty of doing the same thing, I still find it an interesting thought.”

The little A.I. looked up into the Ranger’s eyes as if trying to get a read on any deception she might have -or guilt- when he asked the question, “So… will you really run away from this? Or will you just be Yakone in the moment to see him wake up?”

Yakone didn’t answer him directly at first. She stared down at the Yankees logo on her cap, as if looking into a mirror. “He… did all of that for me? He cared that much… I… I knew he liked me, but not… to that extent.” Her eyes watered a little. “And I might have trashed all of that by nearly killing him. I really am an expert at fucking things up, aren’t I?” She was silent for awhile before taking in a shuddering breath. The Ranger met Pysma’s gaze again. “I owe him that much. I’ll stay… so that he can judge me how he sees fit. He’s earned that right more than I’ve earned any love he had for me in the past.”

There was a nod from the little projection and he looked down as if sensing something Yakone hadn’t and he let out a sigh. “He’s gonna come to soon. I’ll… leave ya to it, okay?” Standing up, there was one last look Psyma gave Leon before he winked out of existence.

There was a slight shifting of the wounded soldier’s eyelids, a minute later they slowly began to open, though not wide at all first. Barely half open, the whole world began returning to the Grenadier at such a rapid rate, his head pounded with a great ferocity. He remembered the rooftop fight, his briefings on the Matterhorn, the Protectorate church and… His eyes snapped opened the rest of the way as there was a sharp intake of air, Leon breathing in and out rapidly as if waking up from an excruciating nightmare. The Canadian man felt the layers of bandaging around his chest and the I.V.s stuck to his arm as well as the rest of the wires that went to various machines. Finally his eyes slowly shifted over to the right, his gaze resting on his visitor silently.

Yakone had to fight all her instincts to not reach up and tug at the collar of her shirt nervously. She closed her eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink, searching for something to say. “...we won. XCOM, I mean. The siege was stopped in its tracks, and Desmond surrendered,” she decided on informing him, hoping to ease any concerns he might have about the outcome of the battle.

Still, his gaze lingered on her, the man staying completely silent, not offering up a response. He blinked slowly, his breathing beginning to normalize as he grit his teeth, let out a grunt and slowly began to force himself up with his arms.

“L-Leon! You shouldn’t be trying to do that.” Yakone’s eyes shimmered green for a moment as she made sure he wasn’t reopening his wounds. “Don’t hurt yourself.” More than I already have.

Still though, he persisted with the movement and suddenly reached out, grabbing her arm, using what strength he had to pull himself to her, resting his head on her shoulder. “...Yakone…” Leon said weakly, wavering from both lack of liquid and emotional distress.

“Not… gonna listen to my advice, are you?” Yakone mumbled with a sigh. “Guess I’m not much better when wounded…”

‘You’re home…” The man continued, not responding to her comments. “Finally…”

 

[MarineAvenger]

DarkGemini24601 and MarineAvenger: “Dry Courage, Part 2”

Yakone opened her mouth to reply, but found dryness in her throat instead of words at first. Come on… just spit it out. “Wouldn’t have been possible without you,” Yakone mustered up the courage to say. “The fear that I was going to lose you was strong enough to break through three layers of mental tampering.”

Leon’s head lingered on her a few moments longer before he had to withdraw, the mounting aches in his chest becoming too much to bear as he laid himself back down on the hospital bed, placing a hand on his chest slowly. “You… really? I knew you had feelings for me but… you felt that strongly about me?”

The young woman smiled a bit sheepishly, some of the tension she’d felt before washing away. He wasn’t angry or afraid, and that put her mind at ease. She closed her eyes. “You know what they used to keep me from remembering who I was after the Forge? Praclaritas showed me an illusion… made me believe I was living a future I’d dreamed about. You were there to rescue me from captivity… you were the one that I fought alongside to win this war… and… y-you were the one whom I said my vows to on my wedding day.”

“I-I uh… I…” Leon didn’t exactly know how to respond to that tidbit of information. He mulled it over in his head, but for the life of him could only ask the question that clouded his mind. “W-Why? I was… am just… some guy who happened to ask you out on a date first before someone else could. We… had a huge fight, and we had only a little time to even make that up before… before you were gone. What left such a huge impact?” She tried to kill you. Her love means nothing. That wedding bullshit is merely just that. Don’t believe the deceiver. But I love her. She’s… my world. What I fought so hard to try and get back.

“The fact that you put up with someone as much of a pain in the ass as me. I hammered you, beat you down with my pride, my anger… and yet you still came back. You’re either a masochist or something else entirely,” Yakone remarked with a weak attempt at humor. “I just… feel like there’s something more to you. Like a sense separate from ESP entirely, I feel as if I know that you’re special… that you’ll stick by my side…” Yakone rubbed her forehead. “I’m just rambling, aren’t I? I… I can’t explain it. Love doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s just something that is.”

Yakone sighed. “I guess if you forced me to pin it down… the fact that you love me affirms my confidence in myself. I feel like I’m worth way more than any value I could put on myself on my most arrogant day when I’m near you… you remind me that I’m a better person than I care to admit… especially in times like these.”

“In times like…” He slowly put his hand to his chest, knowing what she had meant by that. She’s a liar! Liar! The nagging voice in Leon’s head was suppressed to an inaudible murmur. The Grenadier looked at Yakone warmly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “I… don’t really know what to say. You… I know you mean those words but…” Suddenly, there was a shred of doubt on Leon’s features, and he forced himself to say it while looking at the girl. “You aren’t… just saying these things because of your capture, are you? A… A lot has changed these past few months. A lot of things. And the things that your other half said… some of them I have a hard time getting out of my mind.”

Yakone’s expression fell. “I know. I… I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, Leon. I’m sorry if I made you think that. I was just speaking from the heart… I figured you deserved to know. If… i-if you can’t stand to be around me after the trauma I’ve caused… if you’ve moved on… I cannot, and will not fault you for that.”

“Moved on?” The man asked with total surprised, somehow finding it somewhere within himself to let out a scoff. “I’m not that fickle. You’re the first, and only girl I have ever loved like this before. If nothing else, you’re the main thing I’ve thought about… really at all during your time away. For better or for worse… you never left my mind. Ever. You refused to let me move on.” Leon noted with a hint of what could almost be called respect for her impression.

“W-what has changed, then?” Yakone dared to ask.

“For… for a long time, I thought rescuing you was a guarantee. I thought everyone who didn’t think so obviously just didn’t know the first thing about you. But then… there was a day during the siege that I realized just how… how much people could change from the past selves you remembered them as. That I had been broken by someone I once trusted as family. And for the first time since you were taken, I felt as though nothing would work out.”

“And then came the day you took control of Kiki, and then we fought, and I… almost died. The… the last thing I fucking remember is the look on your face when…” The hand that rested on his chest clutched his hospital shirt, the soldier closing his eyes. “And not just that, but the way you talked grated me down. The way you acted with your armor made my heart twist like you were wringing out a towel. I never really thought of myself as one to give up but at that moment I had my back to the wall I… I gave up. And I hate the fact that I did.” There was a long moment of pause, Leon opening his eyes once more, but didn’t dare look at the girl sitting next to his bed. “I-I don’t… want you to think that I ever truly stopped loving you. Even now I… I don’t hate you nearly enough to stop feeling the way I do. But there’s no avoiding the fact I can’t unsee the things I did. And that… will need time to pass. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do.” Yakone nodded grimly. “I caused you a lot of pain… it doesn’t matter whether or not I was in control at the time. That’s just the way it was.” The Ranger looked away from Leon. “I’ll give you as much space as you need. I’m still not nearly over all the shit I did myself.”

“But it’s… sort of a good thing we have each other then, don’t we? We will… help each other through our shit. I don’t think it would be really possible to without. I’ll be with you Yakone. To help, and to hold. After all, I am going to be here for a short while. I’ll need your help and support to recover, right?” The soldier asked, daring to look her way with a small semblance of a smile.

“Yeah… well… it’ll be Chandra that gives you the bio-healing. Ripping a parasite out of my spine kind of left my psionics shorted out and a pain in the ass.. and pretty much everywhere else… to use,” Yakone returned with a weak but similar expression.

“You are a pain in the ass.” Leon shifted over to the side, looking towards the girl with almost a hopeful look. “Care to join me? It’s… been too long since I’ve been able to hold you… if I’ve done it at all before.”

“Not about to refuse a request right now.” Yakone got up from her chair, and laid down next to Leon. “...hospital beds are really damn uncomfortable,” she mumbled half-coherently.

“Incentive to remain out of one in the future then.” He reached up, his hand slowly touching the Canadian girl’s cheek. “Out of all the things you could have been trapped from… you were really caught up on a wedding between us?”

Yakone squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re going to embarrass me with that constantly now, aren’t you? As if I can control my subconscious...”

“I see.” The man noted with a hint of an accusatory tone, but then made a point to add, “Maybe one day I can see it for myself.”

“Yeah… one day…” Yakone muttered, not quite willing to bring up her insistence in her dreamscape that she’d make it happen.

“You and me,” The man began, his head tenderly resting against hers, “we will make it together. Through this time, through this war, and through everything else. You’ll always be my special girl Yakone. Always. Got that?” Leon said, his tone saying he would be hard pressed to take no for an answer.

“I’ll remember that,” Yakone agreed, finally smiling genuinely for the first time in days.

 

[Frostlich1228 (Alt)]

Frostlich1228 - "Lavender Squad"

It had been a hectic couple of days since the final missions in Matterhorn. It was a lovely city and reminded her of home a great deal, but she didn't exactly have much time to admire the sights or visit any of the local restaurants before Commander Atka had everyone pulled into the center of the city for the attack.

Cathy had never been this close to the action before, on one hand, it was kind of scary, but on the other, she was right there to help people now as she worked her other role in the project.

Her nursing had been going well, it was mostly just taking care of patients and helping recover after serious injuries, that was all stuff she could do, but serious injuries were rare and when they did happen other nurses were usually called in first. That was however, until Advent reached the final ring of the city, increasing the injuries, but now that everything had concluded, the rush had died down again. During some parts of her shift, most of the doctors would be in surgery; her care-giving skills were certainly approving, applying bandages, administering setitives, just about everything except for open surgery, which she didn't feel nearly steady-handed or knowledgeable enough to do. In those cases she had been sent back to the kitchen temporarily to help with morale, which was starting to decline quickly in the long siege, thankfully what she had taught to the other cooks had help keep the food quality, maybe not what she would have wanted for the weary soldiers, but she couldn't be everyone.

Cathy couldn't help but think of Artyom, she hadn't been able to see him much since XCOM had relocated as she had been nursing almost around the clock. Soldiers from all three sides passed through and the doctors needed all the assistants they could get. Catherine had been assigned to some of the Elder's security guards and troopers, normal XCOM soldiers, and even soldiers from their new ally. After all this working, Cathy hadn't had much of a break, but when one was finally offered to her, she quickly accepted.

Stepping into the Med-Bay Catherine looked over the current list of patients, making sure none of them were understaffed, there was to be at least one doctor and nurse assigned to each patient. She didn't usually look at this, she usually took her assignments straight from the doctors, but with all the doctors extremely busy, she didn't want to disturb them. Looking down the list, everything seemed fine... before one name drew her eyes towards them like a magnet...

-Mary Thomas
-Female
-Rm Num: 54a
-Diagnosis: Flesh Wound in Her Right Forearm
-Treatment: Bandages with Med Spray applied to the Area
-Status: Released

Cathy's eyes widened with shock and excitement in equal parts. Mary Thomas... Could it be?
There was something written in pen under it, something that looked off from the usual formatting of the reports.

-Affiliation: EXALT
-CO: VERONA EXALT

EXALT... That was the name of XCOM's new allies everyone had been talking about... and Verona... That was the name of the lady from Marx's mission, their leader... And who was with her?

Mary was...

Catherine quickly jotted down the room number on a scrap of paper, giddy over seeing her sister again, then took off out of the Med-Bay. Before realizing she had forgotten to sign out...

After a few minutes of walking and an elevator ride down to the floor below the one her and the rest of XCOM were saying on, she hopped off, looking for the room number. She was getting a few looks walking around in her uniform, but she ignored them or simply didn't notice at all, focusing on running through the room numbers. She was going to see her sister again! After all these years! And what's better, now they were all on the same side...

Finally locating the room, Cathy knocked happily, the sound reverberated for a second before stopping and it took a moment more after that before she heard any footsteps coming her way. As the door slid open, she was greeted not by her sister, but with a man in a grey painter's apron. It was covered in mostly greens with little splotches of red peppered around. He was tall, at least a foot taller than she was, his facial features were sharp and long, with a gentlemanly clean shaven face, juxtaposed against sunken eyes. His pitch black hair was cut short and slicked down, none of his hair falling next to his neck all around, the only difference was in the front with a sideswept spike that hung down, the point ending about an inch and a half above his eye.

He raised his eyebrow immediately, looking the unfamiliar woman up and down, it looked like he could feel the happy radiating off of her, even if it faded a little after not being welcomed by her sister.

Cathy, still smiling, spoke first, "Hey, I'm looking for Mary, is she in?"

He spoke with a voice slightly higher than what she had expected, accompanied with a light rasp, "Mary? What do you want with her?"

"Well uh... Don't spoil this for her but... I'm her sister..." She said, still shining.

His eyes widened slightly, "Truely? Well, I do have quite the eye for detail and I can certainly see the resemblance..."

He considered for a second, before nodding slightly, smirking, "Come in, please, come in! She'll certainly be back in a little while."

Catherine accepted obliviously, stepping into the rather spacious room, these Megacity rooms were certainly cozy, she was going to have a hard time going back to her bunk after this. The man stepped to the side, his every movement seemed steady, well planned, unlike Cathy's jumpy chaotic energy as she found a seat on a cozy couch in the living area.

The man took a seat by her, crossing one leg and looking over to her, "I rather enjoy your... Brightness! You have a brilliant air about you... almost radiant... I simply must pick your mind, but first, would you care to tell me your name?"

"Thanks, I'm Catherine, but you can just call me Cathy." She said, crossing both of her legs together.

"Catherine... That is a... Perfect name for you, it matches your whole demeanor rather well, your, beauty..." He said, admiring her, "But Cathy... I can see why you shortened it... it's playful... carefree... it matches your spirit quite nicely..."

"Wow..." Cathy looked shocked, "You're good... That's exactly why I shortened it!"

He chuckled lightly, simply shrugging, "I do have a nack for picking up on such things... There's more that goes into a name than one knows..."

Cathy nodded in agreement, "So... What's yours?"

"Mine?" He asked, "Oh forgive me, I should've introduced myself first, I haven't been a very good guest, now have I?"

"Oh it's ok," Catherine added, "Don't sweat it, it's not so bad."

"Oh but I do 'sweat' it!" He returned, standing up, "I believe a first impression is very important... You may call me Vincent."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Vincent!" She responded exuberantly, looking up at him from the couch.

"It's lovely to meet you too Ms. Catherine, I do so wish our meeting could've taken place at our room in EXALT headquarters, all my paintings are there currently." Vincent explained.

"I figured you might be a painter, your apron is a dead giveaway." Cathy stated, looking down at it.

"It's quite the passion of mine, you see. " He spoke gently, "I'm actually working on one right now, I thought our visit to Matterhorn would be a wonderful time become inspired, and inspired I am!"

"I've actually been pretty inspired myself!" She exclaimed, "I'm a chef, so all these restaurants are giving me so many ideas!"

He leaned down, holding his hands in front of him, lightly wrapping one around the other, "A fellow artist then! How divine! I think this might just be a wonderful chance to show someone with an actual artistic eye my latest work!"

"Sure, I'd love to see your picture!" She said, hopping up, "We don't have too many artists in XCOM."

"Fantastic..." He rasped, walking towards a room in the back and motioning her to come along, "Now, my workroom is a little bare as of now... But thanks to our leader, I've been able to collect the supplies I need to work properly."

As Cathy passed a few more closed doors, she stepped into a white room with more green splotches all over the walls, some boxes lay strewn around, most of them having cans of paint on each of them, drips of coagulated green paint was stuck rolling down the sides of most of them, only a single one had any red on it. In the very middle of the room was a table with a tarp over it with the outline of something under it, which Cathy just assumed was more paint cans. The tarp was splotched with more of the green paint than anything else in the room, with a darker shade and concentration as well. The centerpiece of the room, however, was a canvas, covered by a similar white sheet as the table.

As Vincent walked over to the canvas he turned and smiled at the happy woman, "You'll be the first person to see my new work since I finished a few hours ago... Now, I want your honest opinion, please..."

He pulled the tarp off of the canvas to reveal a beautiful painting of the city Matterhorn from the perspective of someone looking up from the first floor, different shades of green swirled around the composition, growing brighter as it reached the sky. The detail work was impeccable, with buildings drawn down to the cracks and vines imbedded in them, the darker shades of green near the bottom of the piece were swirled with a crimson red, the center of which brought your eyes to the bodies of what looked to be fallen Advent soldiers. Instead of blood, the bullet holes in their armor sprouted exquisite red flowers the reached towards the light, everything came together in a morbid, but beautiful cacophony.

 

[Frostlich1228 (Alt)]

"Lavender Squad" Part 2

At first Cathy gazed in awe at the designs, but when her eyes were drawn to the bodies, she couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable, "It's amazing..."

He smirked proudly, "Now, how does the piece make you feel? What emotions does it draw out?"

"Well..." Catherine admitted," It makes me a little nervous, the bodies... but the flowers and the light calm me back down..."

"Fascinating..." He held his chin, "I can see that... The bastion of the eye has an aura of hope, that drives back the horror of Advent, if only briefly, before they force you to look again."

"Yeah... I guess that's true..." An interesting question suddenly popped into the woman's head, "Where did you get all this paint, by the way? You said you got it in the city, but I don't remember seeing any paint stores..."

"The paint, of course, it's easy to find now that the assault has concluded." Vincent explained, "I even collected some of it myself, those cans are my favorite to use..."

"Collected yourself...?" The chef asked, confused, before a thought occurred to her... Why so much green? Cathy took a look in one of the paint cans next to her, the green slime swirling around. She took one of her fingers and swished it through the paint, letting it drip off and back into the can. It was... Watery?

"Why is it so watery?" She asked, looking at her finger.

Vince tilted his head, "Well, I must let it sit for a few hours, that one is fresh."

"To sit..." Suddenly, flashes of what she had been doing all day arrived in her head, images of her changing soldiers bandages, trying not to get any of the dried blood on her clothes. A terrifying realization hit her as she turned around slowly, "Is this... What is this really?"

Realizing she was clearing catching on, Vincent decided now was a good time, "Well you see... Art is life... But you have to keep a balance for a work to be truly perfect... so, the best thing to juxtapose that with, is a hint of death..."

Cathy stepped towards the door, "I-It's... Blood? A-Alien bl-"

Vincent quickly held up a hand, interrupting her, "Now, I don't seem to understand the judgement, they were going to be killed anyway, what's the use in wasting it? Life reflects death and death reflects life..."

"B-But it's so fresh... how is-" Her eyes drew themselves towards the table and tarp from earlier, drenched with the blood, the silhouette of something still under it.

Vincent realized where she was looked quickly, saying calmy, "It's best when fresh, obviously, but that one is long dead, drained yesterday in fact, after being killed in battle. You have to make sure to keep the air out..."

"B-But... It's alive... It... It feels, it thinks!" Cathy countered.

"If you truly think those creatures can feel anything, you are very sadly naive..." He crossed his arms, "Think about how many people they have tortured or killed, I am not only doing the world a favor by killing them, getting us one step closer to ridding them of our planet once and for all, but I am also making them into something wondrous...their lives had no meaning before I got to them, just... clones... cannon fodder... but look! I have given them something new, I have made them into something, something they would have never become in life!"

"B-But... I-I... It's wrong..." Catherine sputtered out in fear.

"Wrong?" He mocked, "How quaint... and tell me, your friends in XCOM... Are they really so different from me? Truly consider what they do... They hack them apart... Blow them to shreds... Destroy their minds... Burn them to cinders... They are murderers, thieves, liers... It takes a monster... to destroy monsters, you see... that is the truth... It is up to you however, to choose which monsters you prefer..."

Catherine was quiet now, partly out of dread and partly because she didn't know what to say anymore.

"Please calm..." He said, "I'm not going to kill you... In fact I rather like you, despite our... differences in opinion... Advent and the aliens are my only targets... I'm not as unstable as Verona believes, but she tolerates it, for now, and hopefully after my performance during this defense, she will see that a few works of an... unconventional style... are not significant enough a threat to remove me..."

"So I can go...?" Cathy asked hesitantly.

"Of course. I am not keeping you here. I'm a little saddened that you feel the way you do, but that innocence of yours is... valuable... cherish it..." The painter replied.

 

[Frostlich1228 (Alt)]

"Lavender Squad" Part 3

As Cathy turned around, she could her something coming from the other room, what sounded like struggling almost, grunts and shifting. Before Vincent could notice the sounds himself, she took off to see what it was, coming across a shocking sight.

Tumbling around on the couch she was just sitting on were two women, both completely naked, obviously caring little for the possible company in the area. It was hard to make them out with their faces locked together as such, but when the door behind Cathy closed, one of them popped their head up, staring at Cathy with wide eyes. She had simple hair, medium blonde with sideswept bangs and dark brown eyes.

Catherine was quick to cover her eyes as the woman spoke, "Uhh... Mary? I think there's someone here... The chef blushed rose red at the name, obviously not being that way that she wanted to meet her sister again.

"Why'd ye' stop? 'Eh don't mind 'eh little audience, do you?" Mary replied in her distinct, mismashed accent.

The girl looked down, "Uh.. Yeah I kind of do... Can't we finish this tomorrow?"

Mary simply let out a frustrated sigh, "Fine... Whoever 'at is who killed 'is fer' me is going to get a kick-" The EXALT soldier interrupted herself as she looked over the couch.

"U-Uh... M-Mary I'm uh..." Cathy sputtered out, "I'm kind of... I"m your sister! It's Cathy!"

The browned haired woman's eyes widened, throwing a t-shirt and her underwear back on, "Cathy? Really? 'At's really you?"

She chuckled awkwardly, "Yep! That's uh... That's me... How're you?"

"Fen'" She answered simply, "First time 'eh see ye' in years and ye' just kill my boner, this must be a loveleh' situation for both of us..."

"Well, I saw your name and uh... since the fighting is over I thought I'd..." Cathy said as she heard the other woman leave, peeking out from behind her hands.

"Ye' thought you'd pop in..." Mary said, looking her sister over, "Not bad... Glad ye' grew tits eh least close to my size, lucky girl."

"Uh... Thanks I... Try?" Catherine spoke.

"Se', if ye here who're ye with? Advent right? Ye don't seem like an XCOM type..." The raunchy sister crossed her arms.

"Nope... uh... XCOM, I don't really fight though... I just cook, and do some light... patching up..." Cathy explained, gathering her words as she spoke.

"Yeh, eh' can smell the virgin on ye', greener than a country pasture." Mary added, "Shame, especially if ye' got any of the psionics..."

"A little..." Cathy said, "But I don't practice, I mean, psionics don't really help with food that much..."

"Then you should... get inspired..." Vincent said, stepping out of the room behind her.

Cathy quickly turned around, still wary of him. Mary picked up on it instantly, "He freak ye' out? He can do that... Especially to newcomers, kinda catches people off guard... but you warm up to 'im."

The 'painter' smiled, looking at Mary, "So... How many?"

"Six-Teen..." She bragged, "You?"

"Hmmpf... Ten, but you know what they say about quality over quantity." Vincent responded.

"Still win..." She added, causing him to just shrug.

"Did you ever find that Viper you wanted?" He asked casually.

Mary just rolled her eyes in disappointment, "No..."

"Shame." He responded, crossing his arms.

"So..." Cathy said awkwardly, still standing between them "Want to... uh..."

"Ye' have eh boyfriend sis?" Mary barged in.

"Well... Yes..." The peppy girl scratched her neck.

"Ye' fuck him?" Mary asked plainly, causing Cathy's cheek to flair red again.

"Well... No but-"

"No buts!" Mary stopped her, "Yer a chef, eh can think of all kinds eh stuff... Ye' know what, eh'm not talking to ye' 'till ye get laid..."

Cathy blinked rapidly, "Excuse me?"

"You 'eard me, fuck your boyfriend... Then we'll catch up... Trust me... I'll know when you've done it..." She spoke, rather creepily.

"Uh..." Catherine couldn't believe her ears, or her eyes, or her anything! This was Mary? She's so... Different... So... Forward? Did she really want her to... Artyom...

"Well?" Mary tapped her foot impatiently.

"Uh... I.. Uhh..." Cathy studdered, she had to find out why Mary was so different, at least talk to her... If she had to go faster with Arty... Well... She was going to soon anyway right?

"Fine." Cathy stood straight, "I'll do it. If that's what I have to do."

Mary just started laughing, "Great! Perfect! That's a sister I can get behind! but I don't just want it to be a little fuck and yer' gone, make it big! Bold!"

"Bold?" The cook questioned, "I... I can do bold...Right."

"Good." Mary grinned, "Then get out there."

The EXALT sister walked behind Cathy and gave her a little push out the door, which was the direction she continued to move until out of sight. Vincent looked over at Mary, raising his eyebrows questioning, "You are... 'fucking' with her? Aren't you?"

She chuckled, "Yeah... A little... But Uh... I think I need some time to find out what all this really means..."

"What it means?" The artist asked.

"How I explain... Everything..." The Heavy responded, huffing out a breath of air, then heading to sleep

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Dead Men Tell Tales, Part 1
Avenger, Armory
4:07 AM, December 16th


Samuel let out a ragged sigh. His hand clenched on the magnetic pistol he held, the weapon shaking. Not for the first time, his thoughts had drifted to how close he’d come to losing Stacie in a manner far more final than he’d been worried about in the past. Her leaving him seemed frivolous in comparison to the void of death. The Aerotrooper had been lucky - Lester hadn’t passed on the code black while they were still moving to assist in the defense, so he’d been blissfully ignorant of how close the Gunslinger had come to death’s embrace until after her and the remaining Mavericks were safely out of harm's way.

Still, it’d been close. And that was ignoring what she must be feeling about half her squad being swallowed by the void. If Samuel had lost half of Judgement squad...

He exhaled, and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to shake the nerves from his muscles. Another quick glance around the armory to ensure he was alone - he’d gotten up this early to ensure that, after all. Didn’t want to scare anyone, or give them the wrong impression.

Gritting his teeth, he brought the pistol up to the side of his head and fired.

He waited, the sound of the bullet ringing in his ear even through the mufflers he wore. An ear that should have been blown off. The Russian glanced sideways, and smirked. One of Umbra’s fists was clutching the bullet, having blocked the shot. The rest of the Reflection manifested before him, scaled down so as to fit in the cramped space and. First, it grabbed the pistol and removed it from his hand, before folding its arms in a pose that quite clearly said ‘explain’.

“Well, it got you out didn’t it?” Samuel asked, grinning. A wave of annoyance emanated from the shadow in response, and it began to fade. “Wait, hold on! I’m not done with you yet.”

With a movement that could have been interpreted as a sigh, Umbra re-solidified. It waited, drumming a set of fingers on an upper arm.

“... alright, good.” The Russian removed the mufflers from his ears, placing them on the rack from which they’d come. “We need to talk.” He shook his head. “Well, I need to talk to you, and you need to listen. And you need to show me a few things.”

The Reflection remained, though whether it was actually listening or not was left to Samuel’s imagination.

He chose to press on regardless. “The Inquisitors,” he started. “You obviously know a lot about them from your time with Azazel. I can’t be spacing out whenever one shows up because you need to tell me who the fuck I’m dealing with.” Nemesis swallowed. “You’re going to show me everything you can, about everyone that you can, starting with those assholes. How many of them are there? What can they do?”

Umbra turned it’s head sideways, as if considering the proposal.

“Don’t act like you have a choice in this,” Samuel stated gruffly. “At least, not unless you don’t want to protect me.”

That got the Reflection’s attention. Shaking its massive tetrahedral head, it extended an arm, in the same manner as it had the first time it had shown its master a glimpse of the memories it carried. Wordlessly, Samuel took it, allowing the armory around him to fall out of view.

When he regained what could be called his senses, the area around him was completely black. Darkness shrouded whatever semblance of an environment the area could be. Arranged in a ring around him were eight pillars, all bar one with an object before them and an individual atop them. Some were familiar - Ignium, Aervouba, Aquatef. Two were as yet unseen by the Aerotrooper - one in marbled robes as well as another Elder standing atop a pillar far more ornate than the others. The remaining three were mere silhouettes, leaving a single pillar devoid of an occupant.

Umbra materialized before this pillar, folding its massive arms as it allowed Samuel to take stock in what he was seeing.

“So these pillars represent Inquisitors then?” the Russian asked, noting that he was himself this time. Not that this was a problem - finding himself in Azazel’s body last time had been disorienting, as well as wrong on a primal level.

The shadow, barely visible in the gloom, made something of a half nod, half shake motion. It pointed at various pillars, nodded, then rested its hand on the one that was more showy than the others. Here, it shook its head.

“Then who’s that?”

Azazel clenched his hands, and a shadow crossed his mask. Carolus? he asked, surprise - and a hint of horror - entering his ‘voice’. But this is… impossible. You are supposed to be dead.

The Elder atop the ornate pillar placed a thoughtful hand on the base of her mask. And who told you that? she wondered. Minos, perhaps?

Azazel swallowed. She had a point, the apparently former Arbiter was likely not a reliable source of information given his opinion of the Inquisitor of Shadow. So they let you live after all, he surmised. Samuel shook his head, clearing it of the fog of memory. “Dammit, I hate it when you do that,” he muttered. “So, that’s Arbiter Carolus? Why the shock at seeing her alive? And why the hate?”

Umbra folded its arms.

“... I’ll ask again when we’re done here,” the Russian decided, turning his gaze around. Ignium, still as a statue atop his pillar, was surrounded by licks of flame. Before his totem was his giant sword, stabbed into the ground like some sort of pike. Next along, Aquatef was surrounded by ripples, light distorting around her as if underwater. Her special item was a basin not dissimilar to a birdbath, where a few ghostly tendrils of some unknown creature reached upwards.

“So these guys are themed after the elements then?” Samuel asked, turning his gaze back to Umbra.

The Inquisition always has eight instruments of it’s will, Azazel murmured. Eight Inquisitors. No more. Four of these follow the doctrine of the elements - Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Two others subscribe to the tenets of Order and Chaos. And then come the two last, who are only given the titles of Light and Shadow.

Light is always devout, a true follower of the Path. Shadow, meanwhile, has been a role traditionally filled by the borderline heretical. The doubters, the traitors. While all Inquisitors are taken from all walks of life, these last two are unique in their selection in that they need not be able to fill the concept they are named. Earth must be able to shift the ground, Fire must be able to control flames. But Light needn’t alter that which enables sight, nor does Shadow require the ability to mold the darkness to their liking. They are positions of honor and shame. Nothing more. He sighed, and closed the book in his hands. So says the Inquisition’s mandate.

Samuel blinked, and once again he had control. “So who’s missing?” he wondered, turning to the pillars once again. There was Aervouba, dust-devils swirling and electricity sparking in the space around her. A statue of Exantia graced a podium beneath her. There was another, his robes a impure white, standing in between polygonal constructs as well as a few ghostly eyes. A name floated through from distant memory. Ordero’Forturnitas.

Before the Inquisitor of Order’s pillar was a more abstract object. Rather than a physical thing, an image was carved in smooth white marble. “That’s… half a yin and yang symbol, isn’t it?” Samuel guessed aloud, examining the teardrop-shaped symbol. Glancing to the side, he noticed the pillar next to him held the other half. The pillar and the black marble on which the symbol was etched were cracked and crumbling in some places, and the figure atop it was shrouded in darkness.

Samuel took a few steps back, thoughtful. Looking around, he noted the two other pillars without someone recognizable perched atop them - one with a wreath of vine spiraling upwards, the ground beneath it disturbed and uneven, and the other with a ray of light shining from some indefinable source onto the figure standing atop it. “So we don’t know Earth, Chaos, and Light yet,” he mused. “We haven’t met Order. So Shadow was…”

Ignium frowned, though behind his mask the motion went largely unnoticed by the Ethereal before him. You are certain in your decision? he asked, a small amount of disgust bleeding through his tone.

Azazel gave a bitter laugh. What other choice do I have? he countered, eyeing the Balmadaar that were, even now, aiming their rifles at him. Restraining a Reflection user, even a new one, was not something the Inquisition seemed to be taking lightly. It is this or perish. Hardly even a choice.

I… think you should reconsider, the Inquisitor insisted. You are saying here that your life is more important than your pride. If this was truly the case, you would never have been taken into our custody. This is a decision you will regret for the rest of your life.

Who are you to say that, when you are the one providing me the choice? Azazel demanded. At least I’ll be around to regret it. We’re all dead anyway. If I can save myself, that’s one less life you’re taking from us.

Ignium remained silent for a time, before sighing. Very well, he acquiesced, his tense posture slumping slightly. Then tell me. Who brought together your band of renegades?

 

[Taxor_the_First]

Dead Men Tell Tales, Part 2

Samuel opened his mouth to respond, before scowling and thumping Order’s pillar in anger. “Could you stop that?!” he shouted, glaring at the relaxing Umbra. “It’s getting harder to hear myself thinking here, when you’re swapping me into memories at the drop of a fucking hat!”

The Reflection shrugged.

With a shake of his head, the Russian moved towards it. “Alright, whatever. I’ve seen what I need to. Now I need to move onto the next question.” He stopped before his shadow’s form, and poked it in the chest. “What’s your problem with Carolus?”

The name provoked an immediate reaction from Umbra, a few seconds of roiling energy before it settled into glaring at the effigy of her, standing tall atop her well-decorated pillar. Behind him, Azazel shook his head. You are asking about something rooted deep in his core. His very birth.

Samuel turned, regarding the ghost for a moment. “Then all the better. I’ll get a sense of what you both were like at the time.” He turned back to Umbra. “And why you seemed to think we were so similar.”

The Reflection’s head watched him gravely, as if asking if he was sure in his decision.

“What other choice do I have?” Nemesis asked, shrugging.

Once again Umbra offered its hand, and once again Samuel took it. Even the pillars were replaced by darkness this time, until there was nothing. No sound, no light. Just a distant sense of purpose, ebbing from somewhere before him.

*

Then the universe opened up for him.

The first thing Umbra conceived of was emotion. Anger, rage, despair. A small element of fear, though that last was disappearing fast in favor of the others. Then, it began to see - a narrow corridor, orderly in prime condition. But it was in anything but prime condition. Rubble and shards of metal littered the causeway, flames danced in spots. One or two corpses, large, mechanical creatures, lay as hunks of flesh and metal on the floor. Directly before it stood two more of the bodies, these ones alive, watching as Umbra’s form unfolded. At the end of the corridor, an Ethereal was fighting back against a force of foes she could not beat.

And directly below it was its master, the being that had both summoned and created it. He looked up, momentary surprise at the presence of the Reflection, followed by a resumption of the hatred before. Sensing its confusion, however, he reached out, trying to connect with it on a mental level. The connection made, the situation became clear to the shadow.

The universe was against them. There was no solace to be found. Only enemies. Master - who identified himself as Coatl’Promethoth - was choosing to ignore that encroaching doom, however. He was following the philosophy of ‘one step at a time’. Right now, that step was thus; Albina, the Ethereal at the edge of his vision, was about to be captured. She would be lost forever if he did not do something.

Albina. This formed one of the Reflection’s core directives. Protect Albina. Remove everything that would prevent this.

Without its master necessarily ordering it, the Reflection swung forward, one of its massive arms striking a surprised Infantry Mechtoid and slamming it against the wall, damaging the servos in its midsection. The other hopped backwards to avoid another strike, before unloading its plasma cannons at what it identified as Umbra’s head. Though some of the corrosive semi-liquid dripped off of it’s large tetrahedral mask, the rest of the shots merely passed through without any discernible damage.

Grabbing the recovering Mechtoid by its upper torso, Umbra used it as a weapon in itself, slamming the two into each other like some child at play with his toys. The two unfortunate creatures melded together, the metal crunching and meshing. When the shadow released them, the pilots were dead, and the mechanical components were little more than a mess of ordered scrap.

Azazel merely watched the display, hands that were previously thrumming with psionic energy lowering when it became clear the Reflection had things under control. When Umbra discarded them, he shook his head. I know not how you came to be, he said, his thoughts tinted by the presence of his Reflection. But with strength like this, I don’t exactly care.

With purpose, he began to stride forward, after the Ethereal Umbra had spotted before. But this path was soon blocked as, previously hiding within a nook in the wall, another Ethereal stumbled out, planting herself in his way. You will not take another step, she stated, though her voice wavered with nerves.

Azazel’s eyes narrowed. Carolus. Get out of my way.

No! I cannot allow that! Able to sense her surface-level emotions, Azazel discerned one thing overriding just about all else - fear. The only thing above that…

Please, move.

I will not falter!

I do not want to hurt you. I just want to protect her.

Carolus swallowed. I… I will not move. I will bring you to the Inquisitors. A traitor like you-

You were one of us only a few short hours ago! Azazel snapped, his robes flaring outwards as he pumped psionic energy through his nervous system. But I have simple goals. I will forget that you reported us. I will forget your treachery. If you would just let me through…

I can’t do that! Carolus shouted, her voice still trembling. I just… I can’t.

Umbra pounded both pairs of fists against each other, a display of power, before settling into a combat stance. Azazel looked up at his shadow for a moment before sighing. Then I will be forced to go through you, he stated simply, flinging a small flurry of icicles at the woman in his way.

Carolus countered with her own flurry of large pebbles, before sending a bolt of electricity towards her foe. The energy coursed around Umbra’s form, but was unable to penetrate. W-what manner of being is this?! she demanded, horrified at the lack of effect. How long have you had this?

A few minutes, the Reflection user answered neutrally. Umbra lunged forward, intending to bulldoze its way past her. In response, Carolus summoned a strong gust of wind that barreled down the corridor with enough force to destabilize the charging shadow. With it slowed, she reached her arms to the side and, with a cry of exertion, ripped the metal from the walls around her.

Azazel took an involuntary step backwards, forcing Umbra to retreat slightly in preparation for whatever the next attack would bring. Using oxykinesis to generate an acid to eat through the plating, then magnokinesis to manipulate the freed metal, he analyzed. Impressive use both of energy and intelligence.

Not bothering to frame a witty response, Carolus pushed the now veritable wall of metal towards her foe. Umbra raised its powerful arms, bringing the encroaching plating to a grinding halt with some effort. The two seemed locked in a stalemate that, unfortunately for the loyalist, did not preclude Azazel from simply floating over the wall. Umbra de-materialized before she had a chance to alter the direction she was pushing, sending the wall careening into the distance behind her target and shattering into shrapnel. Almost immediately, the Reflection formed again, allowing Carolus to see it take form from her enemy’s shadow.

The loyalist glanced around her. She’d taken most of the metal off the walls with her first attempt in a bid to counter Umbra’s impressive size. Trying the same trick again would require her to nearly tear the buildings beside them down, which she was nowhere near strong enough to accomplish. Desperate now, she fired off a number of psi lances, attacks which Azazel brushed off thanks to his newfound Reflection.

Get out of my way.

A ball of fire spiraled past him, impacting the wall and leaving a scorch mark where it hit. Azazel spun around, as did Umbra, to see another Elder standing behind them. The Reflection user began charging up a flurry of ice before he realized he couldn’t get any sense of the new foe’s mind.