22"On one terrible night
A crystal man came
The adults saw him
And quickly ran away
The children gathered
but saw his arms
Covered in crystals
And ran away too
But young Timmy
Got a little curious
And took a black crystal
From the crystal man
Now young Timmy
Must leave his home
Because the crystal
Makes him another crystal man"
Old children's rhyme, possibly from the Dark Age
==| Chapter 3 - 8 |==
Of the squad, Saria was the first to reach the Doctor's position.
Rounding the tunnel with her shield and syringe in hand, she paused, before swerving into sight of the hall. Shehad expected a fight, or worse still, a hostage situation with an injured Dr. Maxwell -
But instead, the found the good Doctor sitting alone on a slab of rubble, idling in the darkness. Confused, Saria looked around, but found no trace of anyone but the Doctor, save a few bodies on the ground.
What...happened?
Something flashed around the Doctor, causing her to look back at him. Even behind the green glow of her night-vision goggles, she felt something off in the way he sat alone on the slab, cradling Ace's warhammer and shield in his lap.
Did he...dispatch all of them? She thought.
"Dr. Maxwell?" She called out.
The man quivered, before standing up, turning towards her. In the darkness, his face was hidden under the cover of his hood.
"What happened?" Saria asked.
"I've caught the Reunion ringleader and his escort down here." The Doctor began to speak, still holding the hammer and shield. "They...did not survive the encounter."
"I...see…" Saria answered, a chill running down her spine. "But...how did you manage to fight them off?"
The Doctor was silent.
"...I suppose that's one of your secrets then." Saria continued, thinking of the conversation several days back. However, she kept her shield at the ready, warily watching the man from behind her goggles.
"Yes." The Doctor replied, solemn. "I'm sorry."
Saria nodded, before slowly relaxing. "Then...what about Operator Ace?" She said, looking at the weapons in the Doctor's hand - and expecting the worst.
"Ace...unfortunately, he…"
Before the Doctor could continue, his body slumped - as if a great weariness hit him, one that the scientist recognised to be of the mental kind.
Ah. Another loss.
Looking at the destruction, and the - seemingly - stoic man in front of her, Saria muttered a Columbian epithet for the dead. "I understand." She continued afterwards. "His...corpse? We need to bring it back for processing…"
"Vaporized." The Doctor simply answered. "He took an explosive, point blank."
"...my condolences." Saria answered, walking forward. Hesitantly, she raised a hand, and gingerly placed it on the man's shoulder. "We should have...gotten here sooner."
She had expected him to flinch.
Instead, the man shuddered with her touch, even if his voice remained perfectly level. "It's not your responsibility, in any case, it's...has always been mine."
Paradoxically, the man's gloved hand rose to gently brush her hand away. Without a word, the Doctor walked past her, his helmed visor pointing downwards in dejection as he slowly moved away.
Staring at his retreating back, weapons held at his side, a phrase came to Saria's mind.
"And he will swing his blade, bloodied by a thousand battles, and cleave a million souls asunder...but by utter violence, he shall bring salvation for us all." she whispered.
Misha looked around, at the LGD officers and the Rhodes Islanders that protected her, in a formation so tight that if she had not been riding on Blaze's back, she most likely might have suffocated under all that armour.
They were walking briskly, having exited the combat zone, now making their way through a zone of far more ordered buildings, buildings both tall and clean that it seemed she had stepped past some unseen portal.
Blaze was currently speaking to a green-haired woman from the LGD's side, yet despite hearing all of them clearly, Misha couldn't really process what they were saying, save it was yet more rhetoric about the Infected and Lungmen - two things she found herself caring less and less as the adrenaline running through her finally dissipated and she felt a great exhaustion overwhelm her.
It's all so tiring, she whispered to herself. Why? Why do I have to go through all of this?
Finally, they arrived at a cordon, where a host of police and medical vehicles was waiting along the road, right next to the all too familiar sign of 'refugee camp'. She looked up, trying to look past the reddish-blue haze of lights that lit up the whole place.
It had been attacked recently, and as such there were still the marks of fighting. Amidst the rubble and mess, bodies still lay, while first responders in multi-coloured uniforms attempted to retrieve them. Some bodies were unceremiously loaded into bodybags, while others were carefully placed into waiting stretchers before being driven into one of the many waiting ambulances.
Some were unluckier. At the corner of her eye, she spotted one more person dragged to his feet - not by paramedics, but by a pair of burly armoured officers. Without hesitation, they slapped a pair of handcuffs on him, before pushing him onward towards a van - and the captive simply slumped forward, lost all will to fight.
Blaze turned around, causing Misha to look back at the refugee holding area - or what left of it. It had been breached and overrun, and in the midst of the broken barricades, the refugees cowered in groups, as a few LGD officers ran about, holding scanners in their hands as they tried to account for everyone in the area. The sounds - of quiet frightened sobbing, of angry overstressed people lashing out and frustrated, overworked police - all blended together into a depressing, low hubbub.
"You know, these people just got frightened out of their wits by Reunion, and yet, you guys are still subjecting them to profiling?" In the midst of her observations, Misha heard Blaze bristle.
"I'm sorry, Miss Blaze," the green-haired woman answered, "But with how badly Reunion tore up the cordon, and our slow response, we have to ensure that all the refugees are accounted for. We can't afford another sleeper agent hiding in Lungmen."
"What, are all Infected sleeper agents for Reunion?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that. But please do realize that we have to be cautious, considering that the high level of Reunion infiltration allowed this to happen."
"...no offense taken."
Misha continued to look around. Further out, she could see the silhouettes of civilians looking, peering at the whole warzone. Some of them held phones, cameras, taping and recording the entirety of her fellow Infected…
From the other side of the barrier. Misha noted, almost bitterly. A different world. Our world and theirs…that only meets when war comes to their doorsteps. But one none of us can cross...
"Inspector Hoshiguma, just to get this clear...Infected that stay here for a long time aren't considered Lungmenites either, are they?"
"Officially, they have a special residency status, but…"
"...they aren't considered citizens of Lungmen, am I right?"
"I'm afraid so. There's been...a lot of pushback against the legitimizing of Infected. In fact, I believe there were protests against your - Rhodes - presence here."
"Typical…"
Misha's mind wandered to the past.
"Misha! You don't understand - this, this oppression will continue! It's not just something within Ursus, this hatred towards the Infected has been there since forever. There's some sacred texts I've found, digging through Pa's books - they speak of war, of the struggle for existence, where the right to live only is given to the strong. And that's it! As the condemned Infected, we must take from them, the non-Infected! We have to tear them all down just so we can live! There cannot be reconciliation - and that's why Reunion is doing the right thing!"
She shed a tear, before quickly wiping it away with her hand.
Alex...I hope, I hope you didn't hurt anyone innocent, no matter where you are…even though I can't accept those words…
"Misha? Are you ok?" Blaze asked.
"I'm...I'm fine." Misha replied. "Actually, I should get off you now…"
"Are you sure?" Blaze asked. "I can keep holding you for a while longer…"
"Y-yes." The girl insisted.
"Alright." Gently, Blaze knelt down, allowing Misha to climb off her. The Ursus girl wobbled a little as her weak leg touched the ground, but remained standing. She looked around, but the green-haired Inspector seemed to have left when she wasn't looking.
"Thank you, Miss Blaze."
"Just my job." The woman made a friendly smile with the expression. "Actually, why don't you find a place to sit? It seems like the LGD is still trying to sort you out…"
"Um, Miss Blaze?" Misha asked first. "A question?"
"What is it?"
"Um…" Misha started, before feeling a little embarrassed. "How...does Rhodes Island keep going?"
"Eh?" Blaze looked a little confused. "I'm sorry, what do you mean?"
"This...this oppression of the Infected." Misha shuddered, the weight of her memories pressing upon her. "I never...understood how the Infected felt before I became Infected myself when Chernobog fell...but now...seeing how those who aren't Infected treat us, what Ursus does...even what happens here...how can you keep going, hated by both Reunion and the rest of the world?"
"...How?" Blaze put a finger to her chin, the innate energy of her friendliness fading away. "It's hard. Definitely. And what Reunion does - it's hard to deny them, because deep down...we feel the same way. I've seen...a lot of people come and go. Lost a lot of them in fact...and the fact that we are hurting the people we should be helping doesn't help."
Misha remained silent, staring wide-eyed at the sudden fragility of her erstwhile protector.
"But!" Blaze cried out, startling a nearby policeman. Slamming a gloved fist into a palm, she continued, "I cannot stand by and let all this happen. If the actions of other Infected will hurt others, we have a duty to stop them. Aside from our illness, there is no difference between un-Infected or Infected…all of us deserve life."
"I see…" Misha replied, feeling warmed by the large woman's words.
For a moment, Blaze looked away. "Well...that's what I tell myself. Truth is...we all need some sort of thing to keep us going...a light to hold on in the darkness, I suppose. For me, as an Infected...my friends in Rhodes - our mission - is what keeps me going."
Misha nodded, thinking of her long-departed brother. If only...I could have said that to him….
Oh, brother, where are you. I hope...I hope, wherever you are, you are doing well...
From nearby, a pair of armoured officers walked up to Blaze. "Excuse me," One of them spoke with a thick Lungmenite accent, "We have to bring in the girl now. Sorry."
"Alright." Blaze nodded to them. "Looks like it's time to say goodbye."
"Actually…" Misha realised something. "Could you...could you make sure that the kids that I was taking care of are safe? T-they are with a man called Mr. Zichiry-"
"I see," Blaze nodded. "Anything else?"
"Um...is it possible to join Rhodes?"
Blaze looked taken aback by Misha's question. "Eh, actually nevermind, forget that I said an-" Misha said, blushing.
"Ahahahaha!" Blaze suddenly laughed, driving Misha's embarrassment in further. "Eh, was my speech that good? No worries!" She put two hands on Misha. "Perhaps, once the LGD are done with you, we can send you a recruitment letter. Who knows."
"Hey, officer!" Turning back to the policemen, Blaze began to speak to them. "Take very good care of her, will you? She's not exactly well right now."
One of them nodded.
"Alright, be seeing you, Misha."
"See you...Ms Blaze. And thanks for saving me."
The two officers moved forward, leading Misha away from Blaze and away to an armoured van, its back doors open.
As she got into the waiting van, Misha took one last look at Blaze's tall, domineering form, admiring the woman's innate strength.
But right now, she was looking away from her, standing very still.
The Doctor stumbled into the light like a dead man walking.
Saria, upon seeing his state, had requested - gently, but firmly - that he head upside. Behind him, she and the rest of the team silently escorted him, making the long trip back to the surface.
Meanwhile, already a large group of people had arrived. Civil engineers, paramedics and police units surrounded the area, the latter setting up a large cordon while the former rushing to attend to the reactor complex. A large plume of black smoke was rising in the distance, presumably from an access shaft.
"Just...how many casualties?" The Doctor said, turning around..
"Not many, actually." Saria answered. "The damage was actually contained in the main reactor vault. The few injuries we had were from those who got too close to...the 'Arc containment cells'? I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with Guardian technology."
"You can think of them as release valves." Glaucus explained. "They are meant to direct excess energy for safety purposes...but perhaps the catastrophic shutdown of the reactor was too much to handle."
Saria looked at Glaucus curiously. "I...see. You seem like you have experience with them."
"Some." The smaller woman replied.
Nodding, Saria looked away in silence and the group trudged on. A distance away one of Rhodes' helicopters swooped in for a landing, its crew opening its bay doors as it slowly touched down.
The Doctor looked down at things he held in his hands. The stained hammer and shield felt inexorably heavy in his hands, despite them being made out of advanced lightweight materials.
"As for you...not trying to put you on a pedestal...but you are one of the best we ever had. When I say we need you, Doctor, we truly mean it. For a brighter future, if I may. And trust me, all of us, we will do whatever it takes to bring it."
A feeling of grief rose up within him, for a man he had barely known for a few hours, let a day.
Was it because Ace had some connection to his past? Perhaps he was feeling as such because of some suppressed or lost memory, his internal self hurt by the lost of someone so important?
And yet, the Doctor felt - in the sense one could be certain even without scientific proof - that it was not because of his forgotten past. The man had, even for a few fleeting hours, had given his heart, and eventually life, for this grand cause…
...a grand cause that he was once central in, but now he himself was unsure of his own place.
The cause of the Infected...
His thoughts went back to the other body in that pit, the one he had charred with severe prejudice, the body of a man who died howling curses and hate, just like he had done in life.
And yet, that photo of two suspiciously familiar Ursus…
Whatever hatred he had against that Reunion ringleader seemed to have suddenly fizzled out. Searching his feelings, all he could feel - was an overwhelming sadness.
Amiya - or someone - said this was a tragedy. The lost, the death from all this...it truly is, indeed. No one needed to die, and yet...I had to kill him anyways. Would that girl understand?
Would the old me - the old Maxwell know that answer? Or would he not have cared? There's had to be something to be done…
He turned around again.
"Saria, could you help me try to reach the LGD Superintendent?" The Doctor asked.
"Why's that?" The scientist asked.
"I need to know...if there's anything Rhodes can do as of this moment to support."
Saria raised one hand to her headset, repeating the Doctor's question. After a few moments, she nodded, before shaking her head. "The Superintendent says that Lungmen will handle its own side of the problem. The forces down with the refugees are sufficient as of this moment."
"I see," the Doctor pressed on, "but perhaps the LGD would still need help suppressin-"
"Dr. Maxwell." Saria interrupted. "I understand how you are feeling right now. And my advice is, that now would be the time to retire and rest. This is...Lungmen's issue now."
The Doctor's glove gripped tightly around the hammer's grip.
"Besides…you have a friend to bury."
He closed his eyes. "I understand," said the Doctor. "Thank you for the advice."
Even if I'm lost...I suppose...there's only the way forward. I must honor Ace's sacrifice...and that of the people who are pushing me forward.
Amiya walked through the refugee area, looking and helping with them. Already, the buses had shown up to take them back to their temporary homes, although many were still confused or exhausted that they needed help making their way through the morass of people.
In the middle of the crowds, a child was crying, alone.
Quickly, Amiya approached the lost child. "Hi there," she began, "What's your name-"
Before the boy could even acknowledge her, a hand swooped in and grabbed him by the arm. Amiya looked up, and watched as a woman pulled him away, fixing Amiya with a terrified look.
"...ah."
Amiya got up, looking at the retreating backs of mother and son, right before getting into a chaotic queue for one of the buses.
"Ms. Amiya."
A voice called out. Amiya turned around, spotting a Vulpo about the same height as her, holding a staff topped with a yellow canister walking towards her.
"Oh, Sussurro. How is the treatment of the refugees going?" Amiya asked.
Sussurro stopped in front of her, her fox ears bouncing as she did. "We've treated most of their injuries, and some of their minor illnesses. But for specialized treatment…" she made a sniff, looking at a nearby LGD officer. "We can't do that, especially when they are pressing us to bus the refugees back to their camps."
"It was the agreement, after all…" Amiya sighed. "Just do what you can...do you need further assistance?"
"Ms. Shining thinks that the manpower is sufficient." Sussurro continued. "But Ms. Amiya...perhaps you should rest. I've been seeing you work with the refugees for hours already…"
"It's fine...they do still need help-"
"You've been active for a long time already." Sussurro insisted. "Over-exertion is not healthy, especially with your...advanced Oripathy. Please rest."
"Alright. Thank you."
Amiya nodded to the medic, before making her way off the field, walking back towards the morass of police and civil vehicles scattered along the nearby road. An orange glow began to illuminate the whole scene, as the sun overhead began to set.
She looked around for Blaze - but as expected, she could not find any sign of her friend.
Ace…
The grizzled veteran that she had grown familiar with...was now gone. Even though she had felt loss many times, she could never banish the sadness, the absence of feeling that came with each fallen soul.
If this is what I'm feeling, then...Blaze must be devastated. She's...the last of the team. All her 'brothers' and 'sisters' all died trying to save the Doctor...and fate's taken Ace as well.
Amiya walked on, aimlessly.
And found a strange sight.
The LGD's Superintendent was sitting at a bus stop, all alone, watching the refugees intently with nary an emotion on her face. Even as Amiya approached her, Superintendent Chen didn't notice her presence - or more likely, ignored her completely.
Amiya sat on the bench next to the older woman.
For a few moments, none of them said anything, simply watching the holding area from afar as the sun slowly descended.
Finally, the Superintendent spoke. "I heard about your fatality. You have my condolences."
"Ah…" Amiya started a little. "Thank you, Superintendent."
"If it's not in formal situations, just call me Chen." the woman shifted her stance, resting her left elbow on her knee and her head on her hand.
"Alright, Miss Chen. May I ask…" Amiya felt a little nervous, in the presence of the serious, more senior woman. "...if the LGD has sustained any casualties?"
"Definitely. Some serious, but…" Chen paused for a moment. "Thanks to the help of your healers, no fatalities."
"You are welcome." Amiya smiled. "I'll pass on your gratitude to them."
"Hmmm."
They lapsed into awkward silence.
"Ah well...though...even with the problems," Amiya said, keeping on the smile, "At least the cooperation hasn't been going too badly."
"...I suppose. At least damage to Lungmen or its citizens has been limited, and the main Reunion threat to Lungmen has been neutralized - for now. The reactor and the defense shields...well, those are the Departments' problems now, not ours."
Amiya nodded heavily, causing Chen to shoot her a look.
"You don't seem confident in your organization's decisions." Chen stated.
"Well…" Amiya began, but couldn't exactly put what was on her mind into words.
"...Then again, I can't blame you." Chen said, sighing as she looked away. "To be so young, and in charge of such a large organization...perhaps Rhodes had its reasons for choosing you, but regardless, I don't envy you. The decision must have been hard to make."
The decision must have been hard to make.
"Miss Chen, if there's one thing that has been hard, it would be the fact that we are forced to act against our fellow Infected. Rhodes...isn't a mercenary company, it's a pharmaceutical company...but for the sake of peace, security and the legitimization of us...we take up arms nonetheless."
"But it's not really the 'right' thing, even if it's the 'best' thing." Chen replied. "Because you have to do it, against your organization's purpose."
"Yes" it was Amiya's turn to sigh. "Miss Chen, there isn't...any sort of 'expert opinion' on what's the right thing to do, is there?"
"You sound like you aren't expecting a positive answer;" Chen began, "And you are right; there isn't. And there can never be, considering the chaotic nature of our world, I suppose. There will always be upsides and downsides to every choice, and what you predict may not be the case."
"But in the end," Chen continued, "as leaders, we have to own the decisions we make, even no matter the outcome. And to that end, we cannot lose sight of our goal. No matter how terrible the decision, we have to at least ensure that we are fighting for something greater."
In the distance, the last remaining refugees were being arranged into the buses, which now looked full till bursting with people. Already, all sights of their presence - the barricades, medical posts - were being removed, swept clean.
"Superintendent."
"Hmm?"
"Please don't take this as an insult...but from what I see, you are rather harsh on the Infected."
"...so as it would seem." The older woman wasn't looking at her. "But I hope you do realize that we are, very much, in a tight spot with Reunion and the Ursus Empire."
"Still, why do you have such a stance? And I'm not talking about Lungmen..."
There was merely silence between either of them. For a few moments, neither spoke, the question hanging in the air.
"I am the Superintendent of the LGD." Chen finally began, looking away from Amiya. "Lungmen demands a certain stance from whoever occupies that office, and if I am to achieve my goal...I must abide by that stance as closely as I can, to fulfill my duty as carefully as possible. That...goes for the whole LGD as well, in fact. I will admit that my...personal agenda...is a thing, but in the end, if I am to fulfill both my role and my wishes, it stands that I remain a dutiful servant of Lungmen."
As her older counterpart spoke, Amiya could feel a strong feeling within her. But it wasn't one of pride.
It was a bottled-up anger; a caged, wrathful dragon, created by sins made long ago.
"Even if you disagree with what Lungmen wants you to do?"
"I can say many things, but I'm still bound by Lungmen's will." Chen finally turned to Amiya again. "In some way, like you said - the 'best' choice, but not the 'right' choice. But what the government says, I must execute, as I am a civil servant of Lungmen." She continued. "The chains of command can grip so tightly to the point that one's skin tears under their pressure. I hope...that for Rhodes, you yourself will never have to feel them...even if you struggle right now with your own decisions.."
Amiya thought of someone else, an all-too-familiar hooded figure with a hidden face. "Have you...told anyone other than me?"
"What use would it be?"
"Because…" Amiya hesitated for a moment. "Your pain, it's so very bright, with nowhere to go."
Silence. Again.
"Perhaps." Chen finally said, hand tightening on the hilt of her sword. "Amiya, do you know...there's one thing that separates you from all of us?"
"What is it?"
"You...don't have the past weighing down on you when you make your choices."
"Ah…"
Amiya tried to respond, but no rebuttal came to her tongue.
Seeing she had nothing to say, the LGD Superintendent stood up, turned on her heel, walking off without another word.
As the transport headed back to the Ark, a lone specter lay in his thoughts.
Invisible to the rest, Soulworker sat on the Doctor's right shoulder, only adjusting as the helicopter shivered when it turned. From the door, he could see the wide landscape of Lungmen, the shining towers of its wealth glinting in the warm golden light.
Come to think of it, Lungmen is one of the few cities that you can see skyscrapers in. The economic costs and technological research is actually no mean feat - it might be a sign that humanity is finally getting back on its feet after the Collapse.
He thought of the eternal home, and almost snorted. The Last Safe City is just one city. And the less said of the Reef after Uldren Sov's little rampage the better. Mercedes once said that the future of humanity was past the Last City's walls…
The thoughts came dragging back to his current partner. While shrouded, Soulworker rose to turn towards Maxwell, analyzing him with his one eye.
Dr. Saria's little dirge...that sounds too much like the stuff of the Books of Sorrow. Where did she get that from?
He looked at Maxwell again.
She's not making some sort of prophecy about him, right?
He sighed - as much as a robot could. To be honest...I can't really say I give a shit. It's probably some Dark Age nonsense that somehow managed to survive all these years. The Dark Ages were full of that sort of thing, after all. Warlords, monsters...you name it, the Dark Age had them.
His mind flashed back to that moment underground. The screaming face of the Reunion leader...and Maxwell's words.
"Why did you choose...to intervene on my behalf?"
That's right. I could have just left him to die in that cell. But I didn't. Why indeed? So many years, so many people...but this guy made me stop and give him the gift of the Light.
Soulworker made a quiet little snort. Well, in any case it's actually easier for me. I now have a large body of Originum research to make use...and the Ark being an underdeveloped landship with many spaces does allow me to hide certain things.
Still, was it the right choice?
A memory came to him.
He was running - or more accurately, flying. No hail of bullets or targeting missile chased him, no, something more terrifying - a pair of angry robotic voices, demanding his pres-
Soulworker shook off the thought in anger. NO. It will not be the same. I will never, never, find myself in that dreadful situation, ever again.
Besides, if...if it all goes wrong, I can leave him.
I can leave him.
I'll...definitely...make sure of it.
Definitely.
The Ghost's thoughts settled into a fitful peace.
Meanwhile, the helicopter came into sight of the Ark, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon.
==| Chapter 3 End |==
==| End of Book One |==