13Hello everybody, welcome to the newest chapter of Omega's Ascension! Back to the main plot!
Disclaimer: Mega Man and all its sub-series belong to Capcom. The original idea for this belongs to the author Kuraselache. X the Reaper owns nothing.
Alright, let's go!
Hunter's Camp
Gunshots echoed throughout the Hunter's Camp that noontime, as did a colorful stream of curses when the training simulation came to an end.
Richard was pissed. This was the third match he, the formerly best shooter in all of Hunter's Camp, had had against Ashe today, and once again she had scored a perfect 100% to his 95% or below. It was a sore point with the older Hunter, who could still remember when he was the best shot, as well as being admired and respected for it by many of his peers. It had seemed like forever since Ashe had arrived with her three friends, inexperienced yet eager to learn and prove herself, and had not only become his equal with a gun but surpassed him as well.
Still, the girl had a good heart and never rubbed it in when she won...usually. But again, having the title of 'second-best shot' just wasn't quite the same.
"Aw, come on! You got lucky that time! Best four out of seven?"
"You wanna go again? Alright, but we're just gonna beat you again!" Model A growled, anticipating another round with the sureshot sniper.
"Sure thing Richard, but I'm telling you, I'm not the rookie girl you knew from before!" Ashe joked, but then scratched her chin in contemplation. "But tell you what, I'll give you a handicap so you don't feel as cheated this time: You and me, just guns and skill, no Biometals. Deal?"
"Hey!"
"You're on!"
"That's gonna have to wait, you two. We've got bigger things to worry about right now."
Ashe turned her head to see her best friends and comrades in arms enter the shooting range. Nicol, Lazarus and Red each bore grim expressions, and her previous good mood faded at the sight of their faces. Concerned, she raced over to them. "What bigger things?" she asked, though she had a feeling deep down what it was.
"Another Maverick raid?" Richard added, voicing those thoughts as he jogged to catch up with them.
"Yeah, but worse than what we're used to. Way worse," Nico replied, already leading the way back into the main camp. "We just got a distress call from one of the main power plants in our region. We couldn't make such sense of the message, but from what we can gather, it sounds like a big Maverick assault."
Moments later as the Hunters filed into Unit #04, they encountered several of their fellows already inside, watching a flustered Nana trying desperately to reassure a panicked voice on the other end of the transmission. No one could see how it was on the digit feedback monitor, the video too badly distorted by static and white noise as the signal barely pinged through to Hunter's HQ.
"Power Plant 17A, say again!" she she said into the mic. "The static's making it hard to hear! What's your status?"
"Hu... port! We need ass...oran... ue... rick... o... attack...beliv... need help please! ...od! NO!...
The usually timid female navigator swore as she tried to reestablish the lost signal, both to place the proper coordinates for the transerver and to resume contact.
"I've tried calling Legion already, but no one's answering," she said as she worked. "So it's either we wait for further information to figure out what's going on, or we take matters into our own hands and charge right in."
Billy, a longtime member of the guild and one of the first ones Ashe had met here, frowned in disappointment at Nana's words. "Wait? Wait for what, more people to get hurt? If Legion's too busy to tell us about when people are dying, then screw them. We'll do what we do best: Kicking maverick ass and being heroes. There's no way in hell I'm leaving innocent people to get hurt by mavericks if I can do something about it!"
Many of the other Hunters, Ashe included, muttered or nodded their heads in agreement. Many of them had seen the horrors Mavericks wrought, and many of those had been personal victims before or after becoming Hunters. The female Hunter felt Model A vibrate inside her jacket, emphatically sensing both her anger towards the mavericks and concern for the people in the power facility.
Scanning the area where the message came from, an isolated area surrounded by several valleys, Nana managed to reestablish the signal, then attempted to connect their transerver with the facility's own. A moment of triumph that quickly devolved into surprise and anger as an 'ERROR' message repeatedly flashed across the screen of her computer.
"Damn it!" she snapped, surprising everyone with her uncharacteristic swearing as she turned to look at them. "It's no good. Transervers are locked down all around the area. It'll take hours to get there if we can't use them, and our airships are still undergoing repairs from the Ouroboros assault.
Several of the more knowledgeable Hunters exchanged worried looks. Complete lockdowns were rare and always bad news. The only times they occurred was when security was hacked to prevent backup from getting through, or the attack was so bad operators had been forced to shut down completely to prevent any more mavericks from teleporting into the area. Neither outcome was good news, and without functional airships it would take far too long to get there and help anybody who might survive the carnage.
"We'll never get there in time!" Model A said sadly. Ashe clutched her fists in helpless rage, wondering once again why things still weren't getting better after Master Albert's defeat.
Just then, an incoming signal pinged on the monitor, a blond girl in pink uniform appearing on the screen as Nana quickly accepted the transmission. Ashe knew who she was immediately, having met the girl when she had been getting ready to attack the Ouroboros with fellow Mega Man Vent. It was Prairie, leader and Commander of the Guardians. The female reploid looked at the assembled group, face grim but also somewhat relieved at seeing them all at the ready.
"I can tell from your expressions that you no doubt received the same distress call from the power plant. We're right in your area and on our way to intercept. If you can and willing, we need as many of you to gear up and get ready to teleport aboard the Grand Nuage as possible to embark on a rescue mission. We can only afford time for one group though, so choose wisely."
Accepting the request, Prairie and Nana then exchanged the necessary data for teleporting aboard the airship. Inputting the area code, Nana sighed in relief as the transerver accepted the data and booted up for use, while the other Hunters briefly held a conversation on who was going and agreed. It was a tight squeeze as Ashe, Nicol, Lazarus, Red, Richard, Billy and Anna (the Guild's medic) crammed themselves into the unit. Activating the new code, Nana and the other Hunters watched as the seven of them vanished, having teleported aboard the aerial Guardian HQ miles away.
If the attack was as bad as they feared, then they needed every hand possible to ward off this threat. The other Hunters began to clear out, some to guard the camp's borders, others to help speed up the airship repairs. Some even went to pray to whatever religion they believed in to grant those fighting safe travel and good luck.
It wasn't until only Nana herself was left alone that a thought occurred in her mind, wondering exactly why Legion hadn't responded and warned them of the outbreak earlier, as it was standard procedure to warn Legion first of Maverick outbreaks before moving on to places like Hunter guilds and independent task forces like the Guardians.
Unknown Location (Presumably somewhere in mid-North America)
Master Mikhail was many things. Scientist, politician, leader, adviser, and joker were all things that occupied his resume. He wielded one-third of the power of the mightiest organization on Earth, and had lived long enough that the number of people living older than him could be counted on one hand.
And now he was stuck in a small dark cabin with the only illumination being a lamp that he could have sworn was as old as he was. Next to him, a brown-haired, old reploid woman, who appeared to be one of those more ancient than he, was currently finishing her efforts to stitch up the synthetic flesh on his damaged arm, applying a dose of antiseptic for good measure.
The old Sage grunted in pain as his recently stitched arm stung at the touch of disinfectant, wincing then as bandages were slowly wrapped about it. His three eyes dilated in pain, desperately wishing they had still had the ability to shut them as normal eyes were blessed with as he gazed at the angry red cut going along his limb.
"Been awhile since you've felt pain like this, huh?" she asked him rhetorically. "The little boy I remember could have lost his whole arm and he'd squirm less than you are now."
Mikhail winced again, looking at the current source of his discomfort. Despite her seemingly callous manner, her touch was gentle as she worked on his arm, slowly wrapping it in thick bandages.
"Well, I do admit it's been a long time," he replied, then added with a little good humor, "but as they say, pain builds character. Perhaps I've been long overdue for some."
The woman allowed a small chuckle to escape her lips. "Well, age certainly hasn't done anything to your humor, has it Mikey?" The old Sage flinched slightly at the use of his childhood nickname. "But no matter how old you get, you'll still be that little boy to me." With that, she finished wrapping his injury, standing up. "I think that'll do. A shame I can't do more though."
Mikhail briefly raised his arm and slowly moved it, noting with satisfaction that while it was still painful it wasn't agony anymore. What little synthetic flesh that he had left had been treated, and hopefully his auto-repair function would take care of the rest.
"No, it's quite fine," he assured her. "You've done as beautiful a job as ever, Aria." With a grunt of effort he pushed himself off the bed he was resting on and walked towards the exit, only stopping to grab his broken golden cane lying on a table, followed by his companion who watched him with a careful eye.
"Still, I wouldn't have expected you to come back here of all places," she quipped as he reached the door, "I thought you said you had no intention of ever coming back here."
Mikhail ignored her for a moment as he opened the door, taking a second to fully appreciate the sight before him. They were currently in what appeared to be the middle of a canyon, miles of red-brown walls rising above them towards the skies. Around him on ground level was what appeared to be several other small shacks and cabins, filled with other old reploids and a few humans here and there, simply relaxing in the quiet open.
If he still had a real mouth, he would have smiled nostalgically at the sight. So many decades and yet this place still seemingly hadn't changed.
Then again, what exactly did he expect of his former home? The whole reason he left it as an impressionable and wild youth in the first place was because it was too quiet and slow for him.
This place was known as Trans Kon, one of the few settlements during the 'Ragnarok Era' that dared to survive outside the protective shield of Neo Arcadia and scourged out a life in the wilderness. The mighty canyon walls on all sides served as a powerful defense against maverick attacks and helped conceal them from the roaming machines, and the multitude of secret caves within the walls allowed the people to easily hide from attacks that did occur. The colony had been established when Neo Arcadia began its original extermination campaign against reploids, the inhabitants reploids who had escaped and humans who had refused to condone such things.
Isolated as it was, the inhabitants had to work together to survive in the harsh area, and it had been a place where the two races had been able to foster strong relationships, especially compared to Arcadia. When the great peace had arrived, the people of Trans Kon, despite their strong individualist lifestyle, had been instrumental in helping to teach humans and reploids to coexist on a larger scale. Mikhail's life in the small town, despite its slowness and quietness, had provided him with the equalized outlook Legion needed to be successful in its first years, and as he grew older began to appreciate it for what it was.
"It wasn't like I had a choice, Aria," he replied simply, turning to look at her as she joined him by the door. Now in the daylight, he could see where most of her visible body had been replaced by cybernetics, only her face still as real as the day she had been born. "There were some...complications at work."
"'Complications'," she repeated, almost mockingly. "Those must have been some pretty big complications, given how Andre found you half-dead bleeding out, faint from blood-loss at that."
Mikhail looked away, not knowing how to respond to that. His hurried transfer from Legion had thankfully managed to land him near enough to his old home, if not exactly in it. A good thing to, as he had promptly blacked out upon arrival. Who knows what would have happened if they hadn't managed to find him before some scavenger did...
Aria's softened as she looked at him. "But seriously Mikhail, tell me what happened. Trust your big sister with that much at least."
The Sage looked down, his eyes upon the symbol of his power. Power that now meant nothing as far as his oldest former friend and his current situation was concerned. Yes, he was better now, but now what? Could he tell her? She was his only living primary family member left, but what would happen if Thomas and his forces managed to track him here? His teleport hadn't exactly been encrypted or secret; they could piggyback on his personal transerver signal to get a rough approximation of his location, and if Thomas recalled where he had originally come from, that would instantly give away his place.
Would they burn the village down? Kidnap Aria for information if he told her? Kill her when she was no longer useful?
"...I'm sorry, but I can't tell you."
"Why not?" she asked him, her voice gaining an annoyed edge. "It's obviously something big. Did something happen in Legion? Is the city going to hell in a handbasket and you had to run? Did you do something you weren't supposed to?"
"Something like that, yes," he admitted. "But I can't tell you more. I'm a wanted man now, sis. They'll come for me, if they haven't already. I need to be long gone when it happens, and you can't know anything that might spell doom for this place."
"You're my brother, Mikey," she replied stubbornly. "Your fight is my fight."
Just like Aria. When he had tried to leave back in the day she had wanted to come with him, not because she also wanted to see the world but because she wanted to keep him safe. Their parents had died when they were young and she had taken up the role of parent when they were only thirteen and ten respectively. He had been annoyed by her actions, but he knew that she just didn't want to lose the only family she had left. However, she had stayed because the village needed her, as she had eventually risen to being the leader of Trans Kon, and the needs of the many outweighed those of one, even if that one was family.
Mikhail was about to reply, but was cut off when an explosion ripped through the canyon, coming from near the other side of the small village. Both cyborgs startled at the sound, and Mikhail felt a pit open in his stomach.
'It can't be,' he tried to assure himself, 'Thomas couldn't have found me so quickly...'
Another explosion, followed by screams of pain and terror, quickly squashed that desperate hope.
"What on Earth..." his sister whispered from next him, her eyes suddenly drawn to the sight of something dark darting between houses. "What is that?!"
He knew what it was. Only one Mega Man could have found him so quickly, and it was the one with the least amount of mercy in his heart. As if on cue, a reploid braver (or perhaps more foolish) than the rest tried to confront the phantom alone. He quickly fell to the ground screaming in pain, clutching at the long gash across his chest. The dark warrior swiftly placed away the blade he had used and continued to move onward, unrelenting in his movement.
Mikhail looked back down at his cane, coming a decision. He couldn't let this continue, and there was only one way he could think of to deal with this without anymore bloodshed."
"Aria," he suddenly said, calling her attention back to him. "I'm sorry, but I need to go."
She looked at him, confusion evident in her expression. "Wha-"
"He's after me," he replied quickly. "If I escape, if he sees me leaving, he'll leave everyone else here alone." 'I hope.'
She shook her head. "Mikhail, you're insane. That thing will kill you!"
"And he'll kill everyone here if I stay!" Mikhail replied, already moving back into the house, ducking down into a corner to make himself less visible as he typed in his transerver coordinates. "I know who this person is, Aria, and if his target is solely me, then he'll only kill anyone who directly interferes. He won't have any reason to stay and do so if he sees me leave."
Another scream as another, this time a human, was struck down, clutching her arm. Several people fired upon the dark wraith with various firearms, only to be dealt with swiftly as the being moved as a shadow, swiftly disarming and disabling all of the attackers. Aria looked at the sight of them crying out in pain, bleeding out as the figure stalked closer to where she and her brother was, and she turned back to him.
"Really? Because from where I'm looking we're as good as dead anyways!" she shouted back. "You leaving won't change a thing, because it'll probably just kill all of us out of spite, or even as just witnesses. If you're in as dead trouble as you claim, then it doesn't matter if you leave. At least together we all have a chance!"
Mikhail looked at her desperately, knowing on some level she was right despite his own hopes. According to reports, Siarnaq had been one of the deadliest assassins alive even before he obtained Biometal Model P. He normally only went after the target alone, but he would willing kill off an entire village if he thought it could complicate things too much. And while a part of him still hoped Thomas had the heart not to involve innocent civilians in this manhunt, he understood that the new Thomas likely wouldn't see such losses as anymore than 'collateral damage' in resetting the world.
He was trapped. Stay, and Siarnaq would murder anyone and anything in his way until he found him. Leave, and the Shadow Mega Man would just kill them all to silence any witnesses.
He could only think of one way to deal with this.
"...Trust me on this, sister," he pleaded, rapidly typing in a new set of coordinates into his cane for transport. "I know what I'm doing!"
Aria was about to reply, but a sudden chill ran down her back. Without thinking, she slammed the door shut, turning herself to look behind her.
A dark purple-armored being stood before her, looking for all the world like some sort of soulless zombie, slumped and limped. A frayed red scarf hung as limply from its neck as its arms, its dead red eyes the only thing visible in its utterly blank face. It gazed directly into her green eyes, not a trace of compassion in its own.
"I HAVE COME FOR THE RETRIEVAL OF MASTER MIKHAIL," it intoned. "WHERE IS HE? INPUT RESPONSE..."
"Like I'd tell you," she growled, her voice defiant, if slightly trembling. This being terrified her, and not just in how robotic it seemed, but rather the distinct lack of anything remotely resembling living in its voice or appearance. It was as if she was facing a standard mechaniloid, not an actual reploid.
"INVALID INPUT," it replied, right before its right arm snapped out and grabbed her neck, lifting her seemingly effortless despite her being easily over a hundred and fifty pounds. "INPUT RESPONSE..."
Its fingers were like steel around her neck, and despite her artificial body Aria could feel her throat crush as if she still had one of flesh and blood. "S-Screw...yo-you..." she coughed out, using her own arms to try and pry the hand off, with no success.
"INVALID INPUT. WARNING: CONTINUED INVALIDATED INPUT WILL RESULT IN PERMANENT TERMINATION," it said, its fingers tightening about her throat. "FINAL CHANCE. INPUT RESPONSE..."
What could she say? Reveal her brother's location and live, or stay silent and die? For her, there was only one answer, an answer she had long ago come up with when their parents had died in a maverick raid, unable to get into the caves in time.
"I...I'll d-die...before I...t-tell you...anyth-thing..." she choked out.
"...RESPONSE ACCEPTED," it said after a moment of silence. "DIE."
Siarnaq tightened his grip upon the pathetic human's neck, feeling her blood flow from where his fingers were digging and watching struggles slow. Where a normal being would have felt annoyance at being unable to get the information he wanted or even sadistic pleasure at the sight of her futile efforts, the emotionless warrior felt nothing. For him, this was simply another part of the mission, and there was nothing to feel when completing a mission.
Logic dictated that Master Mikhail was no doubt within the building behind this cyborg, either cowering in fear or perhaps preparing a teleport. It didn't matter either way to him, as he would hunt him down either way once he was done here-
"Siarnaq!"
Mikhail's voice rang out, causing Siarnaq to lose all interest in his current annoyance as he dropped her like a sack of potatoes, turning in the direction of the sound. To the reploid's surprise, he found himself suddenly tackled by the short sage, still gripping his cane, and stumbled a few steps as he tried to get his bearings. The assassin quickly recovered though and drew an energy kunai, preparing to disable his quarry and bring him to Thomas at last.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE RUN WHILE YOU HAD THE CHANCE," he said as he did so, drawing his blade up to aim for the throat.
"And you..." the sage grunted in exertion, though there seemed to be a hint of...satisfaction? "Should have learned your lesson last time."
Siarnaq didn't know what he meant and didn't care. He brought the blade down, intending to end this. By sheer luck, Mikhail managed to get what was left of his cane in the way, the blade becoming embedded in the orb. Siarnaq simply grabbed the cane and kicked the old fool in the chest, causing him to fly a few feet away and collapse in a heap, leaving the broken item in his hands.
"RESISTANCE IS FUTILE," he simply said as he prepared to retrieve the sage, who was now holding his midsection and gasping in pain. "SURRENDER NOW."
Mikhail continued to wheeze and gasp, but slowly those sounds turned to something else. Siarnaq looked at him in puzzlement as the pained sounds turned into...chuckling?
"T-Tell me, Siarnaq," he wheezed. "Do you...know what happens to a person who uses...a damaged transerver?"
As if on cue, the cane suddenly began spark and crackle with the familiar light of a teleportation. Siarnaq's eyes widened as he realized what Mikhail was about to do, had tricked him into doing, and he quickly tried to toss the malfunctioning device away.
Unfortunately, he was a little too slow.
The next thing the reploid saw was a bright flash of light, swiftly followed by an intense feeling of pain from his left arm...
Mikhail coughed as he slowly got to his feet, his eyes on the spot where the Shadow Mega Man had vanished. Only scorched ground greeted his gaze, along with two objects. The first was a piece of his cane/transerver, partially melted and still faintly smoking.
The second was Siarnaq's severed left arm, occasionally twitching as some electrical impulse went through it, blood quickly pooling around it.
He smiled in spite of himself. Even if he wasn't entirely certain that the Mega Man was dead (and if he really was immortal, then it was a very low chance even that had stopped him), he had at least managed to delay him, especially if he was minus one arm.
"Mikhail!"
He turned his head, seeing his sister rushing towards him as fast as she was able. "Aria, I-"
He didn't get any further when her fist collided with his head.
Truth to be told, it wasn't too strong, he barely felt it thanks to his metal head as a matter of fact, but the sheer suddenness of it did cause him to stagger as he gazed at his sister with wide eyes. "What-"
"No, that was I should be saying!" she snapped, lifting her arm to hit him again. "What were you thinking, charging at that monster like that?! You could have died!"
"It was the only way I could stop him!" he shouted back desperately, raising his hands to prevent another blow. "I couldn't just let him hurt-"
He stopped when he realized the blow never came, at least not how he expected. Instead, Aria had wrapped her arms around him, her eyes threatening to shed tears she had long ago been unable to.
"I know you couldn't," she whispered softly, her voice a conflicting stew of relief, anger, fear and gladness. "But you're still my baby brother. How do you think I felt, watching you charge at him even though I knew you couldn't stop him either way, watching you throw your life away?"
Mikhail grew silent as he listened to her. "I'm sorry," he replied, "but it was the only way I could make him grab my transerver."
"...Just don't do stupid stuff like that again," she muttered, then let him go, looking over at the wreckage. Even so, the Sage could see the gladness in her eyes. "What happened to that...thing anyways?"
"Blind jump," Mikhail responded, looking at the site himself and unable to keep a hint of satisfaction out of his voice. "I couldn't get the full coordinates in, but I know I sent him to a place with plenty of mountains. With any luck, he teleported into one. But even so..." he looked at her seriously, his tone brokering no argument. "I still need to leave and soon. I need to contact the Guardians and tell them what I know, so that means I need to get to a working transerver, one with teleportation capability."
She looked at him and nodded. "Three days ride to Mombasa," she told him, saying the name of the closest city that had the necessary transervers. "I can make it in two if we go now, after we help the people in the village."
He smiled, or would have if his face had the option to do so. Still, it was evident in his voice. "Well, no time like the present, huh?"
Helping the villagers would eat up some time, but Mikhail would be damned if he let his people died when he could have helped him. Besides, with Siarnaq off the trail for now and Thomas none the wiser, he had at least that much time to spare...right?
Unknown Location (Presumably mountainous terrain in the European area)
With a burst of energy that quickly winked out of existence, Siarnaq appeared and collapsed in a heap on solid rock, which turned out to be a slanted edge of some ledge and one his body quickly started rolling down thanks to gravity. Near him, the destroyed remnants of Mikhail's transerver rolled down the slope along with him, melted and sparking with electricity, useless.
Mikhail, unknowingly, had failed in his gamble, if only by a few feet. Still, at several thousand feet up, not even a Mega Man could survive that sort of fall.
However, as he quickly slid to his seemingly inevitable doom, pale blue energy suddenly gathered around his right hand, morphing into claw-like structures that were quickly dug into the slope. With a jerk the Shadow Mega Man's descent stopped, all while the rocks and transerver dislodged by his travel continued onward and fell off into empty space.
With slow, deliberate movements, the assassin dragged himself up the slope, only stopping once he reached a seemingly stable area by a large, worn rock, leaning up against it.
The reploid was in bad shape, that was obvious to anyone if they were there to observe. His entire body was covered in scorch marks and cracks, his scarf almost looking burned as smoke faintly whiffed up from his form. Blood pooled out from under him where his left arm was literally gone, metal, muscle and artificial skeleton severed in a clean cut: A phenomena referred to as a "portal cut", when an object doesn't completely transition between two areas and gets split apart...literally. They had been especially rampant during the earliest days of transervers, but massive tests and safety measures had quickly solved those problems, leaving it as a rare freak accident.
Even so, it was still one of the deadliest accidents that could happen when using a transerver, as a portal cut would destroy anything caught in it, no matter how durable. In addition, the only way a portal cut could happen in this day and age would be if the transerver malfunctioned, which usually meant exposure to high levels of energy beyond what most could safely handle that usually spelled a horrible death for the unlucky. A normal being would have died from the shock and blood loss.
However, Siarnaq was no normal being. He was a Mega Man, an existence created to surpass the bounds of normal humanity and achieve the impossible, and that was before he received Thomas' "gift". And as he slowly forced himself to stand against the rock, enduring pain he had not felt since his accident and lifting what remained of his scarf to wrap the injury, he proved, if only to himself, that he was indeed beyond what most people thought as 'killable'.
Still, as his own diagnostic of himself quickly showed, he definitely wasn't 'invincible' either.
"DAMAGE LEVEL CRITICAL. LOSS OF LEFT LIMB FUNCTIONALITY AND MULTIPLE BURNS WITHIN ARMOR DETECTED. FUNCTIONAL CAPACITY AT 51%," he intoned aloud, uncaring that no one could hear him. "HAZARDOUS TO PROCEED WITH CURRENT MISSION. ABANDON MISSION?"
He took a moment to view his surroundings. Several hundred feet away another mountain rose from the earth, and he could see at least a dozen more in the distance. Craning his neck upwards, he could make out the snowy peaks thousands of feet above him, and a glance below showed him the green of evergreen forests.
"SCANNING...THREE POTENTIAL LOCATIONS FOUND. AREAS DESIGNATED AS 'RHODOPE', 'ALPS' AND 'PYRENEES'. PROBABILITY OF LOCATIONS AT 33%, 36%, AND 38% RESPECTIVELY. INCONCLUSIVE DATA DUE TO LACK OF INFORMATION."
Where he was, it was definitely far away from wherever Mikhail was. Having whatever was left of the transerver would be useful in finding out the rough coordinates of where he was, but he wasn't about to go hunting for it down a slope. Besides, it wouldn't stop him from teleporting back to the village and finishing what he started...assuming of course the Sage was even there anymore.
Siarnaq's logical processes judged the pros and cons of continuing his mission. It was definitely much more hazardous yes, but worth aborting? That was a question with no easy answer. His orders were, after all, to retrieve Master Mikhail whatever the cost as soon as possible. Each lost second meant more time to reach the Guardians and tell them what was happening, which could blow their plans all out of the water.
However, his injuries were a very real obstacle, and unlike his burns the loss of his limb would greatly increase his vulnerability in the event of a fight. He had no doubt he could defeat any normal soldier in his way even like this, but a Mega Man like Model X or A? Out of the question.
Someone else might have weighed the choices a little longer, but Siarnaq wasn't limited by feelings like doubt. Once presented with two equally unpleasant choices, he would choose the lesser of two evils without hesitation.
"IN CURRENT CONDITION...RETREATING."
There was no shame in this. Yes, there would no doubt be hell to pay with Thomas, but better that than dying because he was too stubborn to repair himself when he had the chance.
Siarnaq prepared to activate his personal transerver and leave; however, he paused when something, a flash of light, caught his eyes. Looking closely, he backed up in surprise when he realized that there was something odd about the boulder he was resting against, specifically a crack running along its length. There almost appeared to be something stuck inside, something that looked very familiar...
With interest peaked, he pried his free hand into the crack, forming plasma claws again as tore away some of the stone, his blades serving as makeshift picks as he widened the opening. With a final grunt he tore part of the rock face away, revealing his find to the world.
White metal glistened faintly in the sun as Siarnaq's eyes traced over the familiar lines and red core of a Model W, no doubt one of the few Albert had been unable to obtain in his mad dash to retrieve the fragments for his Ouroboros. It was rather small, perhaps only about his size from what he could see, though for all he knew the majority of it could still be within the mountain.
However, the brief sense of surprise he might have felt faded when he took a closer look, realizing there was a reason perhaps for its abandonment. The red core was broken, the once bright veins a dull grey. This Model W was dead to the world, and thus no better than scrap metal now.
However, something glimmered from within the glass core with a faint purple light, the very same light that had attracted his attention. Without hesitating, Siarnaq broke the glass of an object that had once meant the world to him and grasped the fist-sized object within, feeling an odd sense of...sadness at touching it, as if it didn't want to be found. Model P's own consciousness stirred weakly inside his mind, a sensation of anxiety passing through him as it tried to warn him of the danger he held in his palm. Irritated, Siarnaq banished both feelings from his mind as he pulled his hand back and examined his prize, briefly wondering what the odds were he had found this thing here of all places (odds that his mind calculated at an estimated 3,783,907 to 1 at minimum).
He might have failed in capturing Mikhail for now, but Master Thomas would be pleased that he at least found something useful for trying to make up for his failure.
For what he'd found, despite being purple instead of crimson, was unmistakably Model O.
Grand Nuage (en route to Power Plant)
Guardian Maquereau rapped on the door leading to Commander Prairie's room, awkwardly adjusting the straps of his gun and his armor as he did so.
"Enter."
Upon hearing the muffled command, Maquereau pressed his palm against the door control and opened it, stepping into the room.
The thing that always struck his mind upon entering was that Commander Prairie was way too into pink. The entire room was covered in the color, and all over he could see multiple stuffed animals of varying sizes. Even the very bed in which the Commander slept on looked like something a little girl would sleep in, not the battle-ready leader of one of the strongest defense forces on the planet.
Of course, that wasn't the only thing about the room, as there was a whole bookshelf dedicated to various fields of science and history, including several data tablets with different diagrams of technology or weapon systems littered about the room. Commander Prairie herself was currently sitting in front of a computer and reading what looked like some sort of message from an agent in the field, though she turned around and exited out before he could see what it was about.
As she did though, he could have sworn he saw just the faintest hints of shock and happiness in her face, as if she had tried to conceal them too quickly behind a mask and let the feelings bleed through it. However, it was gone in the next instant, leaving only the determined lines of the leader he had grown to trust almost like a mother.
"Something wrong, ma'am?" he asked her out of politeness.
She shook her head. "Nothing, just a report from the ground base about a breakthrough of sorts. Status?" she asked him, her tone slipping into that of the battle-ready Commander who would fight tooth and nail to protect the innocent. Marquereau stood a little straighter as he delivered his report.
"Ma'am, the Hunters are situated and ready. The ship is en route to the power plant and will arrive in 20 minutes. A Guardian strike team is at the ready for deployment, and Muget and Rose are ready to assist the wounded along with the Hunter medic Anna. Mega Man Model A is also ready to go."
She nodded her head. "Is Vent on-board?"
"He's in Cinq Ville, making his way to the nearest transerver now. He should be aboard in five minutes."
Prairie let out a tired sigh, a small smile gracing her lips. "Well, that's a nice bit of good news. Lord knows we need it."
Marquereau nodded but otherwise didn't move. Prairie gave him a curious look.
"Something on your mind, Marqu? Say it if you want."
He hesitated for a moment, but then acquiesced. "Ma'am, I have to say...this is a bit unusual for you, don't you think?"
"I don't believe I quite follow your meaning."
"It's just...I can understand you wanting to bring along Vent for this, but why Ashe as well? Don't you think two Mega Men together is a little bit excessive for just one maverick raid, especially if we're bringing the Grand Nuage itself to the playing field? With so many outbreaks out recently, we can't afford to just put all our eggs in one basket, as they say."
Marquereau was silent as he finished, waiting for the Commander's response. She in turn was quiet for a moment, then stood up from her chair and walked over to a data pad near her desk.
"While you're no doubt aware of the fact that the power plant was attacked," she began, "you still don't know that it wasn't just one ordinary Maverick raid."
"Huh?"
"Follow me, Marquereau. This is something that everyone going down there needs to see for themselves. And I don't feel like repeating this process."
Vent stepped out of the transerver with a tired sigh, taking a moment to look around at the familiar metal fixtures around him.
"Home sweet home, huh Model X?"
"It has been a while since we've been here last," the blue Biometal agreed as it floated alongside its Chosen. "But nothing's really changed from what I can see."
With another sigh, the teen slid a hand through his long brown hair as he exited the transerver room, coming face-to-face with Silure, the Guardian's mechanic. The old reploid looked him up and down for a moment before smiling.
"Well, if it ain't young Vent!" he said by way of greeting. "Where have you been for the past couple of days?"
"Around fighting Mavericks," Vent answered with a smile, before it became more serious. "You know where everyone's meeting?"
Silure nodded, his own mood turning grim. "Yup, down in the meeting hall. The Hunters are already there, including that Ashe girl."
Vent nodded, his own spirits rising slightly at the knowledge that his fellow Mega Man was here too. It'd definitely make things easier for them in handling the mavericks. "Thanks Silure," he told him as he began to walk away.
"Anytime Vent. Tell your girlfriend I said 'hi', by the way."
Vent's head whipped around so fast that it was a miracle he didn't break his own neck. "What?!"
Silure chuckled. "Sorry, couldn't resist!"
"Yeah, sure you couldn't..." he muttered as he walked off.
Vent couldn't quite get why people assumed that he had a thing for Ashe. He had only met her for a few days after all, and just because he had carried out of the Ouroboros bridal-style didn't mean he was in love with her! Heck, they had barely seen each other over the past few days, too busy running missions to bother catching up. Yeah, they were friends, but not like that...were they?
'As a matter of fact, why am I even thinking about this?' he asked himself as he broke into a run, shaking his head. 'I've gotta get to the hall!'
Model X floated along behind him, resisting the urge to chuckle in case Vent heard him. 'Ah, the bounds of young love...' it thought half-seriously.
Ashe rolled her eyes as the Guardian in front of her, Scombrésoce or something like that, tried to flirt with her as they waited for Commander Prairie to make her appearance. It wasn't like he was really annoying her though: at worst he was just that weird guy who just wouldn't shut up, but you could tune him out pretty easily if you had something to occupy yourself with.
She was currently occupying herself with the idea of how he'd look with his pointed chin beard singed off by her buster pistol, or perhaps a trim with one of her A-Trans that had laser blades or blades in general.
"...But alas, I was defeated by that disgraceful brute!" he said, continuing on about some battle he had had with a bull Mechaniloid with an axe. "If it wasn't for the fact that my good friend Hareng was there, I would have been done for!"
"Yeah," a blond Reploid, presumably Hareng, added. "Though sometimes I wish I did let that guy cleave you in half. Maybe I would've saved money on the several dozen packs of ear plugs I've bought since then."
Ashe snorted at that, and did so again when Scombrésoce's head fell. She then looked around, searching for a familiar blue-coated figure with long hair. "Anyways, you guys know where Vent is?"
Hareng looked at her. "I heard he's on his way here now, just finishing up from a mission. Why?"
She shrugged. "No reason. He's my friend after all. Is it a crime that I can wonder where he is?"
Scombrésoce's eyebrow peaked as a small grin split his face. "No, but perhaps you are asking as more than a mere friend-"
"Go any further with that sentence and I will shoot you in your artificial balls," Ashe warned him in a very calm, collected voice. "With a charged shot."
"And I'll be helping her."
All three turned their attention to the voice in question, seeing Vent standing there with his arms crossed, Model X right there alongside him. Scombrésoce's eyes widened as he tipped his helmet towards the Blue Mega Man.
"Well, this was a nice chat but I must be off! Ta-ta!"
Hareng watched him go and sighed. "I'd better go after him," he muttered before turning towards Vent, nodding his head. "Good to see you, Vent."
"You too, Hareng."
The Guardian left, leaving the two Chosen Ones to face each other. A small awkward silence filled the space as both of them realized they had no idea how to pursue this conversation now, but it was Ashe who made the first move, holding out her hand.
"Hey Vent," she said with a grin. "How've ya been?"
"Alright, if you can call maverick hunting and saving people 'alright'," Vent answered, his own grin apparent as he accepted her hand with his own. "You?"
She shrugged. "The same." She glanced over at the blue Biometal next to him. "Yo, Model X. Haven't seen you in a while."
"Hello Ashe," Model X said in turn. "I take it Model A's doing fine?"
"I'm great!" Model A admitted, floating out of Ashe's jacket to face its fellow Biometal. "Me and Ashe have been fighting a whole bunch recently, but it's alright, because we're still looking out for each other. We even slept together last night!"
Vent bit back his laughter at seeing Ashe's face suddenly turned into a tomato, right before she she slapped her Biometal.
"Idiot! Don't say things that could be taken out of context..." she muttered, then smiled evilly. "After all, we wouldn't want everybody to hear about your little secret..."
"H-Hey!"
Vent shook his head, hearing Model X give off an amused chuckle at the spectacle before them. "Seriously though, it's good to see you two again," he said aloud, getting their attention back to him. "I just wish it could have been under better circumstances."
Ashe nodded, her own mood turning grim again. "The same. You've got any idea what we're up against?"
"I just heard it was a Maverick raid and that I needed to get back to the Guardian Base ASAP," Vent replied, looking around. "From the looks of things though, it's pretty big. Prairie should be coming along any time soon to brief us-"
He stopped when he realized that the Commander herself was already entering the room, holding some sort of data pad and flanked by Marquereau. Ashe followed his gaze and shrugged.
"Well, I guess we're about to find out," she muttered as they, along with everyone else, watched Prairie move towards the raised podium to speak.
Prairie looked over the assembled faces, her own projecting a strong sense of determination and solid foundation. "You're no doubt wondering exactly what you're all in for upon landing at the plant," she began, addressing the reason they had gathered. "To be perfectly honest, I can't say for certain. All we know for certain is that it's some sort of maverick raid, one far more dangerous than what we're used to."
"It'll be fine!" someone near the back called. "We've got two Mega Men on our side! This'll be a walk in the park!"
A mutter of agreement rippled through the assembled troops, some of them slapping Vent or Ashe on the back or giving them thumbs-up, to which they responded with grins or small waves of their own.
"Yes indeed," Prairie replied, though her own smile faded quickly. "Were it so easy, that is."
She held the data pad out and pressed the playback button. "This contains a reconstruction of the garbled emergency transmission. We couldn't retrieve everything and some of it is just guesswork, but this is why I wanted all of us to be ready."
A burst of static echoed over the speakers, but the audio was much clearer. The listeners could tell whoever was speaking was a male, and there was no denying the terror in his voice.
"Hurry, support needed! We're under attack! An orange...no, blue Maverick is on the attack! I can't believe it; it's tearing through us like we're nothing! Somebody, anybody, we need help please! We can't...oh God! No-"
She turned it off when a big burst of static crossed through the channel. "According to that, there's only one attacker at that plant. Plants of that size are supposed to have at minimum a force of thirty-five guards to safeguard the area, and it tore through their defenses like nothing. If it's still there by the time we get there, I want to have the necessary firepower to put it down permanently."
The assembled Guardians and Hunters looked at each other, some grimmer than others. Prairie let the mood shimmer for a few seconds, then spoke again.
"But make no mistake, once we get there, it doesn't matter if there's one Maverick or a hundred. We're going to do what we've trained ourselves to do, what many of us originally became Guardians or Hunters to do. And what are we gonna do?"
A moment of silence...and then:
"We're gonna scrap them!" someone female, likely Cedre, yelled. A murmur of agreement echoed that sentiment.
"We're gonna break them!" someone else shouted.
"Smash 'em!"
"Blast 'em!"
"Tear 'em to shreds!"
"We're gonna hold 'em by the nose and kick 'em in the ass!"
"Go through them like Congre does with running shoes!"
"H-Hey!" came an indignant shout from the Guardian named Congre.
Prairie smiled at them all, noting the good spirits they had worked themselves up to. This was what made command worth all of its drawbacks, to know that the soldiers under your command would willing trust you with their lives. That bespoke of camaraderie that you couldn't quite feel anywhere else, and it set alight a fire in her chest every time.
"All that and more," she told them, her voice gaining strength and volume as she spoke. "Because as the good book once said, 'Yea, though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil!' Because evil is about to get a blaster rammed right up its butt, because we are the toughest fighters who ever came walking into the valley!"
A rousing cheer greeted her words, just as the intercom rang.
"En route to Power Plant in T-minus ten minutes. All personnel prepare for combat."
Prairie looked over the soldiers one last time. "You heard them, get ready for combat. Good hunting everybody. And good luck."
With that, she turned to leave.
Giga Arcadia
Grey, back in his usual look, looked around the streets of the capital city, surprised by the lack of activity. Even this late into the evening, he would have expected to see the bustling, if somewhat reduced, crowds that he remembered the last time he and his adoptive family had been here. Instead, he was greeted to the sight of crowds of people yes, but they seemed almost...subdued, fearful even. They moved with a sense of urgency and caution, speaking more often than not in low tones, as if fearful of what speaking aloud would do.
Despite the warmth of the sun still apparent at his back, he couldn't help but suppress a chill that ran down his spine at the oppressive silence. It was as if the city was holding its breath for something to happen, and he wasn't certain that it was something anyone would enjoy.
Model Z also picked up on the feeling and urged his Chosen to pick up the pace, but not to rush.
"Just act casual, Grey. You're from around here and you don't stick out much. Remember, move and act like you belong, and people will be more inclined to believe you do. It might be best to find some place to spend the night though, and find the transervers in the morning when you've rested..."
"Yeah..." Grey muttered quietly, feeling uncertain as he heard distant sirens from far away. Shifting his pack and keeping his head down, the silver-haired youth moved on past the crowds of the bazaar further into the heart of the city to find someplace cheap to sleep for the night. He was tired after a long day's battle and travel (as he had been forced to spend a large portion of the quarter-portion in normal form to prevent security from seeing him as a threat) and agreed with Model Z's suggestion, as a warm bed and maybe something hot to eat was a very tempting idea.
Of course, just because he left the crowds behind didn't mean there still weren't people around. He could still see people huddled alone or in groups of two or three near various buildings, most ignoring him but a couple giving him cold, distrustful stares as he passed by, turning away after apparently judging him not dangerous or not worth the effort of confronting. One shady-looking human in particular wandered on over towards him, the older man sizing the reploid up with an appreciative stare.
"Don't think I've seen you around here before, kid? You new?"
Clutching the holsters of his pack with one hand and the other in his pocket (near the holster of his pistol, as he didn't want to caught off-guard again after what happen on the beach), Grey stood his ground and tried to walk around the man, not trusting himself to say anything. This guy was way too fishy, the kind of person his adoptive family had taught him to stay away from at all costs.
The human, however, anticipated his movement and sidestepped to block his path, setting off warning bells in Grey's mind. Those bells only rang louder when he moved a little too close for comfort in an attempt to get a better look at the reploid's scarred face.
"You know, it's not nice to say nothing when someone's talking to you," he continued, still with that tone of politeness that just seemed fake coming from his mouth. "Could I at least get an answer?"
Grey found himself instinctively coiling his hand around his pistol, Model Z rattling warningly within his pockets and ready to spring into action if the man tried anything funny.
"I'm just looking for a hotel to spend the night. I don't want any trouble," he replied calmly, trying not to let his wariness seep through. "So how about I just go on with my business...please?"
The man didn't back off though, remaining uncomfortably close as if deciding something. Grey found himself seriously wondering about whether or not he should just start fighting, especially when he noticed that a small crowd of similarly shifty persons was beginning to gather, but before he could come to a decision a new voice suddenly drew the man's attention away.
"You leave that boy alone! Can't you see he's just a kid?"
Dropping his head as if caught doing something he shouldn't have, the man moved away along with the crowd, allowing Grey to breathe a sigh of relief. He turned to see how his mysterious savior was, blinking as he beheld an older-looking woman with silver hair that seemed to be both natural and age-related coming towards him, stooping slightly under the weight of the groceries she was carrying.
"Don't you let me catch you harassing this boy again! You hear me?!"
The man glanced back, giving the woman a casual wave before continuing on. "Yeah, well, he shouldn't be out here all by himself then. Little kids should be at home with their mommies where it's all safe and stuff..."
Grey and the woman watched them go for a moment, then the former turned towards his rescuer. "Thank you, ma'am," he told her politely. "I think things would have gotten ugly if you hadn't shown up."
The woman smiled at him. "The pleasure was mine, child." She then looked him over for a moment, as if she was trying to remember something, but before he could ask she suddenly pulled him closer. Grey started to struggle, but stopped when he realized that unlike with the man, she seemed almost...protective in her movements.
"It's not safe out here alone at this time, son. Please, follow me," she whispered, looking about briefly. Grey glanced back down the way he was going, remembered that was where the man and his gang had gone, and decided that he was probably safer with her. Together they walked down a couple of darkened streets, Grey relieving the woman of some of her grocery burden, until they reached a quiet suburban area. Inside the house, the interior of the woman's home was small but cozy, and Grey settled himself down wearily as she unloaded her groceries and packed them away.
In the light of the house, Grey got a better look at her face. Alice was her name and she was human too. She was likely very attractive in her youth and would still be considered that way now, if it weren't for the hard lines of premature aging across her face. The weathered features gave the impression she had lived a hard life, but her attitude was anything but as she fussed over him warmly as if he was her own son.
"Thank you, really," he told her repeatedly throughout the evening. "I don't see how I can repay you..."
"No worries, child," she always replied with a smile. "I'm grateful for the company, and I just couldn't let you wander those streets alone. Please, consider your presence here payment enough."
He insisted on helping in some form though, and she eventually acquiesced by letting him help her with the evening meal. He was only of use in small areas, such as peeling vegetables or watching the oven as she baked several rolls within, but he was happy to be of assistance in any way shape or form.
Heating up a large pot in the kitchen, the rich scent of cooking soon filled the small house as they finished preparing the meal. It was some sort of stew, filled with meat, carrots, potatoes and heavy with exotic herbs and spices that had Grey's mouth watering at the mere sight. Grey's stomach rumbled heavily as she poured him and herself a large bowlful of it, several rolls of warm bread and butter near them as a side. After a brief respite to say grace (Grey more out of politeness than actual faith), the reploid eagerly dug into the meal as the kind lady began to chat with him.
Aile bit back a sigh as she waited for the reploid shopkeeper to finish wrapping her meal, feeling more than just a little pissed off at the moment. As the owner of Giro Express, it was her responsibility to manage the family business while her brother worked alongside the Guardians and help them as necessary. While she ofttimes dreamed of once again taking up the role of maverick fighter with Models X and Z alongside Vent, she understood that the world needed more than just heroes to keep it going, and the Express had been in danger of going under before she had been forced to resign from active duty to keep their foster father's legacy alive. And truth to be told, she was satisfied, even occasionally happy with her work.
Happy enough, that is, until nonsense like this occurred.
After delivering a supply of energy regulators to shifty-looking cilent and attempting to meet with a Guardian informant inside the city (who was currently in the hospital for some reason or another unable to see visitors, which jossed that plan), the city underwent emergency lockdown mode before she could leave for home. While passage in and out of the city on foot was still possible, though heavily regulated now, the transervers throughout the city were now offline all throughout the city, preventing her from getting home and forcing her to find someplace to stay overnight until the lockdown lifted. While the tropical paradise was a nice place to visit this time of year, Aile was annoyed she was stuck and couldn't shake the feeling that something weird was going on. Giga Arcadia had been unsettlingly eerie all throughout the day, a stark constrast to her last visit with her brother Vent a few years before when they had defeated Serpent.
Even so, she forced herself to give the shopkeeper a smile and even pay him a little extra, unwilling to vent her emotions out on him. The female transporter hurriedly left the food markets and began to walk back towards her hotel for the night, her free hand patting her concealed buster pistol to make sure it was still there. In these times, it was never foolhardy to carry a weapon and have the knowledge to use it after all. She had taken several shooting classes before and after she left the Guardians to make sure she could use it, having never handled a weapon seriously outside of being given help by a Biometal.
As she made her way to her place though, away from the more populated areas, she stopped when she heard a strange sound, like metal sliding against stone, as well as seeing a large shadow pass along the buildings ahead of her. Aile paused and, with a very uncomfortable yet familiar feeling in her gut, quickly raced towards a side alley and ducked into it, pausing to look around the corner. What she saw nearly made her drop her meal.
There, slowly sliding along the main streets, was a massive three-headed snake Mechaniloid, two heads triangular with the middle head shaped more bullet-like. All three had necks that tied into a larger, thicker body about a third of the way down, which split again at the last quarter into three, spike-balled tails. Despite the beast's size, it managed to glide quietly through the street without causing much damage, even avoiding the buildings around it with its three tails. Around it, a large squad of Galleon soldiers, which she recognized as the Freelancer robotic security detail, slowly marched in tune along with several human and reploid soldiers, avoiding the creature's mighty bulk as they acted almost like an escort, occasionally branching off into side streets to keep marching.
Aile quickly backed deeper into her alley way as three of them lead by a single human passed her by. While these standard models didn't typically attack unarmed civilians and even then only activated a 'guard' mode when they detected a concealed weapon, the fact that so many of them were here at once with a Mechaniloid like this meant something big and likely bad was going on. Flashbacks to Area H echoed through her mind as she stared after the forces, before reaching for her communicator to call Vent's number.
Cursing her luck as it failed to pick up his signal, Aile hoped desperately that this was just some new standard procedure in times of lockdown and not a response to some random maverick raid. Because if it was, she was stranded alone with a lone pistol in the middle of the vast metropolis, and Vent wouldn't know a thing about it until it was too late.
Okay, so maybe I lied when I said that Grey wouldn't appear in this chapter, but hey, at least he wasn't the main focus this time! Alright, a whole bunch of framing went up this time around: Vent and Ashe have reunited and preparing to deal with a mysterious Maverick, Siarnaq has found one of the Omega Cyber-Elves, and Aile has made her first appearance!
What will happen next? Well, we'll find out next time!
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