Sorry this took a minute. I'm preparing to get started on a new story (since I usually try to have two running at once). Tends to help my brain focus better.
You might as well call this chapter Aftermath, Part 1.
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The reports covering his desk were not nearly organized. He couldn't say things had gone better than expected. They had in some ways. Casualties were low. And the operation was, objectively speaking, a success. But better than expected would mean that Commander Johnson wouldn't have needed a blood transfusion.
It would mean Elen didn't get corrupted.
So he wouldn't call it that. Commander Johnson was the easier fix. Hiding the full records wasn't easy, but hiding the donor and the blood type? It was far too crucial. If things leaked now, then there would be trouble. But it was worth the cost. Well worth the cost and the personal pain.
It wasn't a pain he had felt in a long time. Over the decades, it felt less. Like it was, if not quite healing, becoming more manageable. Now?
But now?
The hole in Anderson's stomach hurt like never before. Or maybe he had forgotten how much it hurt the first time. When a mass produced Heretic put their fist through him. He had little left to begin with. And he had even less now. Anymore would kill him. This almost had.
Elen? It was painful to see. Seeing how Red Hood started to falter was painful enough. But in the end, at least she was herself. Able to make her own choices, all the way to her grave. But Elen was under the influence of suppressors. On the off chance that she hurt someone else. Or herself.
The only silver lining was that her situation wasn't getting worse. The corruption wasn't spreading further than it had. With thirty percent of Elen’s brain infected, they could use every win they could get.
That being said, it was only a silver lining. The corruption, for whatever reason, had opened up more of Elen’s NIMPH to be scanned. The results?
Raised a truly disturbing number of questions.
Elen had been corrupted from the moment they had met. From before her first ever mission, in fact. To say that this revelation was being taken well was a lie. It wasn’t exactly identical to the corruption that had overtaken nearly a third of Elen’s brain, but it was close enough that some were speculating it also came from Chatterbox.
Missilis would be facing some pointed questions if it weren't for the fact that Elen had numerous logs showing that she didn't register as corrupted when returning to the Ark. Syuen had been cooperative in handing over most of Elen’s pre-operation data as well. Elen never left Missilis facilities until her first mission. Which meant one of two things. Either Missilis was actively selling out the Ark, an idea that would only be spoken of in harsh whispers.
Or someone managed to leak the code in before the mission, but outside of Missilis. That left a handful of perpetrators, and fewer likely ones even then.
In truth, there was only a single person that could do such a thing. Almost as unthinkable, possibly even more so, than Missilis being in league with the Raptures.
Enikk.
If the AI running the Ark, the one programmed to insure that humanity survived as long as it could, was corrupting Nikkes? Then it had concerning implications about the state of things.
Nor was it the only node of corruption. Deeper in the brain, towards where it should connect to the spine. Another node rested there. The code, while younger in terms of when it appeared, was old.
As far as any of the scientists working on Elen’s body in stasis could tell? About a century. Missilis did report Elen was impaled by something burning the first Chatterbox encounter, but believed they had managed to extract the device before it could do any damage. As for where said something was? Syuen claimed it was destroyed, out of concerns that it was too unstable.
A lie, but Anderson couldn't prove it. Still, coming into contact with something that old? A century old.
That couldn't be a coincidence. The first cases of corruption as it was understood today started showing up around then. He shook his head. Unlike the wound in his side, the loss of his squad, Goddess Squad, still hurt. The loss of Lilith still hurt. Even sadder still was that the surface was a safer place than the Ark.
A knock at the door snapped Anderson from his thoughts.
“What is it?” He asked, rising from his chair slightly. This had to be important. He gave orders not to disturb him unless something changed.
“Sir, I know you said you were not to be disturbed,” the other voice came from the other end. Anderson's eyes narrowed. That was not what he said. Doubly so with Syuen trying to fight for custody of Elen’s body. Not a fight she was going to win, Maxwell working around the clock into investigating corruption included in that calculation. “But the scientists are, freaking out. They don't know how to explain what's going on.”
Anderson pushed out of the seat completely, a groan of pain trying to make its way from his throat.
Marian's situation at the minute was stable enough for this. She was with Counters, despite many protesting Enikk's decision. They would keep her safe until Commander Johnson could return to a state of consciousness. Ingrid was also willing to help if it came down to it.
“Then do your best to describe it,” he said, making his way to the door, opening it to see a young man, hardly twenty years old, if that.
“I, don't know. I don't know enough science to even guess. But the way they were shouting? It sounded like the corruption was attacking itself, sir.”
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“Mirror mirror.”
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Crash!
“For the Queen.”
Smash!
“I can do this all day, shithead!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the inside of my skull, looking at the rings of broken glass around me. How long had I been doing this? Inside my head, with no external stimuli? Time had no meaning. I could have been doing this for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years?
I doubt it was anything more than a few hours to a few days, but I had no way of knowing for certain.
“I know you're out there, you blonde shitfuck!” Every once and a while, I saw her. Not much of her. A scrap of blonde hair. A hint of red. Nothing much. Scraps. Fragments of a mirror as it was shattered. She flitted about, just outside my sense of perception.
No part of me doubted she was malicious. At least, I couldn't afford to operate under the assumption that she wasn't. Part of my mind was corrupted. Maybe all of it. If she wasn't here before, then she came with said corruption. If she came here with the corruption?
Then she was an enemy.
Behind me, another mirror of glass began to arise, as I turned around, slamming my fist into the surface before it spouted out a single word. Glass shattering was a familiar, almost comforting sound at this point. To hear it crunch under my boots.
At first it had been almost relentless. Ring after ring of glass, almost a focusing iris. But it bad tapered off. Was it a sign of weakness? Exhaustion?
I doubt it. Corruption was a mystery, but at the same time, it was more or less a computer virus. How did a line of code become exhausted? It didn't. At least, it shouldn't. If it could? Who's bright idea was that?
Maybe analysis? It was pulling back to try for some sort of different method of attack? It had to be. Not that it had many. I knew I was in status. The last feelings I had before I was locked inside my own head. At my request, of course. It had nobody to threaten me with. No allies for my body if my control slipped to hurt. Even if my body was a puppet now, people would be safe.
It was not something it could hold against me. Was it possible that I could win? Maybe. Maybe not. But I didn’t need to win, did I? As stereotypical as it sounded, I didn't need to win, even if it would be nice if I could. No, all I needed to do was not lose.
Did it know that? That was the question. Was it not focusing on me because it didn't know what to do? Or that no matter how much it tried to break me, it lacked the levers to do so? Or that even if it put in the time and effort, I would eventually be free of it?
Didn't make the situation any less aggravating. All I could do was smash mirrors and shout. Did corruption even understand human speech?
It should, maybe. Maybe it was just mimicking? Was corruption dumber than Chatterbox?
Blood. Blood on my hands. Human blood, all over the place. Screaming, bullets, blood.
I closed my eyes, breathing. This didn't happen. This never happened. I never hurt anyone in such a manner.
Opening my eyes, I could no longer feel the blood on my fingers. The screaming had fled my ears. That was. Interesting. And new. It hadn't pulled out that before. Was that tied? Was it, reading my thoughts?
If NIMPH was in the brain, and corruption affected NIMPH? That wasn't the most illogical jump, translating electrical signals in the brain into something that could be thoughts.
Wow, imagine being dumber than an upjumped Gorilla.
I waited for a moment to see if that got a response. But nothing came. Huh, was I wrong? Or did it read my thoughts and know my intention was to piss it off?
Great, I'm playing mind games with a computer virus, lovely. Might as well try to take notes when I can. Someone, probably several someone's, was probably going to be picking Marian's mind hypothetically about her experiences. Having someone to collaborate with would be good and scientific.
Screams, begging, pleading for mercy. Blood staining the soil, even as.
No. Again. This did not happen.
My vision cleared, and I almost felt a sense of annoyance. This was getting annoying. I was starting to miss the stupid mirrors already. At least them shouting at me was original, unlike this horror movie third rate slop. This is how the stuff being poked at under a microscope by scientists must feel like.
To say I appreciated the reversal of roles would have been a lie. I did the poking, not the other way around, dammit!
“So, you're pissed off that we took Marian out of your grubby hands, aren't you?” I sneered, spreading my hands outward, as if to invite a challenge. But nothing came. Had I judged the annoyance wrong? Was I being too obvious? Did I need to bait the trap better? “Or are you angry we might find out who's pulling the strings?”
Death. Death to the enemies. Death to those who oppose the Queen. Nikkes screaming. Humans dying. Mounds and piles of bodies. Death to humans to liberate Goddess.
This didn't happen. None of this happened. None of these things were what I had ever done.
My head throbbed with pain, even as I forced the pain down. It hurt, like my head was going to split open. These weren't my memories. They were someone else's.
The corruption was reacting. It was poking me, yes, but I could poke back. Had I hit some unseen nail? Surely, I had. How it reacted? It wasn't mad that we liberated Marian. It was angry at Chatterbox for, something. Maybe, the failure to recorrupt Marian?
There was something that it didn't want out. Something that it didn't want others to know. Like it was trying to keep something a secret. Had it something to do with the blond figure? Corruption was for all intents and purposes a computer virus. It shouldn't have a secret beyond maybe not wanting humanity to crack the code to make a cure.
If it had wants and desires?
Then it was more than just a virus.
It would have to be guided by intelligence. It would have to be guided by a person.
Pain hit my body like a truck. Everything twisted and ached. Despite it all, a small smirk curled on my face.
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“I remember there being this girl, whispering in my head,” Marian shook her head. Now that Rapi's internal temperature had gone down, she could now look at herself. She wanted to be at the hospital. To be with Johnson. They had gotten a call. He was going to pull through. But still, she wanted to be with him.
He wasn't the only one. She owed Elen a lot. She never met the girl, as she joined after everything. But Elen had risked her life. All in an attempt to save Marian, a stranger to her. Marian felt like she owed her that much. But the Outpost was more or less on lock down.
There was nothing Rapi, Anis, or Neon could do to stop her if she wanted to. But her heartache did little to change how delicate the situation was. Marian more than understood that she was being watched. A single step out of line would spell nothing but disaster. Her beloved Commander Johnson would make it. All she had to do was wait. She waited long enough. A day or two wasn't adding much time.
“She said a lot of things. Most of them didn't make sense. She threatened, she made promises,” Marian continued. Unable to be with Johnson, and not in a position to help Elen, there was little to do but look inwardly. At herself.
And she'd done more than plenty of that. All against her will. She needed to talk, talk to anyone able to listen. Which meant she was talking to Counters.
There was nobody else Marian could talk to. Just Rapi, Anis, and Neon. In truth, she didn't know her teammates that well. Neon was like Elen, a complete stranger to her. Though it pained her to admit it, she didn't know Rapi or Anis that well either.
Part of her time leading up to those final moments were a fog. She knew Anis was insubordinate, and that Rapi was serious. But almost all of her focus was on Commander Johnson.
The first human to have given her kindness in years. A man who bandaged her wounds, even if it didn't fix anything. To show compassion. Just the gesture alone was enough to make her swoon.
It was through Johnson that the figure made many of its threats, and promises. It's tortures.
Now, was she going to say what they were? Counters could read between the lines. Nor were some of them made for polite company. “It wanted to get me to serve. Willingly.”
Marian looked at them. She could trust Counters. Johnson wouldn't keep around those who he wouldn't trust. If he trusted them, it was enough for her.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Anis breathed, her own features pale.
“That's what Elen is dealing with right now?” Marian wasn't surprised. To Neon, she was a newcomer. She was going to be closer to someone who she'd known for longer. Marian understood the concern.
She doubted the woman would treat Elen with any greater gentleness than Marian herself received.
“I believe so,” Marian said after a moment. She didn't want to lie. She couldn't find it in herself to do so. There was nothing she could do though. How she was freed. The whispering, the almost pleasure they had at watching Johnson bleeding out before her. The glee she had taken in Marian's sobs and screams. Then, silence. As if the connection was suddenly cut. Marian could control her body, no longer a puppet in her own body.
She didn't know much. Other than the woman didn't want her to come in contact with the material. But she was somehow exposed anyway.
Was it the bullet? Had catching it in her teeth still cured her? Marian couldn't think of any other explanation. Rapi had said something about teams trying to recover it to cure Elen.
But Marian hadn't heard anything since.
As for Rapi herself? She seemed distant. Marian could have sworn she heard her mutter something. So that's what happened, or a phrase close to it. Otherwise, she remained mostly silent.
It worried Marian. Did Rapi blame her? Did Rapi blame Marian for Elen getting corrupted? Or was it something else?
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“You want me to do what!”
The request was outrageous. Illegal. Several levels of illegal. Not that she was a stranger to that. But still, this was going well above and beyond.
“Will you keep it quiet! I'm not asking for much.”
She was asking for a lot! Sneaking Central Government laboratory and slipping a small red, crystal thing into a Nikke’s support equipment? That was a lot of illegal, criminal work! She didn't even know the person's identity!
They had to be someone important. It wasn’t like the sum on offer wasn't considerable. It was just, you know.
Well beyond her skills to actually provide what was needed.
“You're asking me to undertake a stealth break in and infiltration! That is a very big deal!”
“And you said you could get jobs done.”
Yeah. Jobs that weren't this crazy! She'd just gotten out of hot water, too. This would put her right back in the pot. But the money on offer. She didn't want to turn that down. Even if she had to split it, it was a large sum.
She could just, hire out someone who had the skills. The number of people or Nikke’s with the necessary talents would be few in number. But she had heard word of someone who could do it.
“Fine, I'll do it. But don't expect miracles.”
“I'm hiring you because I expect miracles.”
Great. High expectations.
“The dose is specifically calculated to solve their problem. I cannot stress it's all that's left. You screw this up? I know exactly where to find you. You do exactly as I told you to do.”
“Fine. Fine. I will. I'll contact you when the treatment is done.”
What was so important about this red little gem, anyway?

