>>3610186

>Updates: https://twitter.com/MolochQM
>Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=NERV%20Second%20Daughter

Monroe waits for you back at HQ, and the first thing you notice about her are the dark circles of fatigue painted under her eyes. “Oh, I need to catch a nap,” she complains, although there's a surprisingly cheerful smile on her face, “I was pulling a double shift last night, doing liaison duty with Coraline. So much talking!”

“Sounds like you need a liasion-y day. You know? Liasion-y, lazy?” Vic offers, his voice faltering a little, “Uh, sorry. Nate thinks I should be more funny, so I thought...”

“You're doing a fine job,” Monroe assures him, “But right now, I need you to go and check Nate's dorm. If she left anything vital behind, we might just have enough time to get it to her before her plane takes off. Can you give her room a quick look over?” Vic realises what she's saying after an awkward pause, and then he hurries off after giving you an embarrassed nod. “Sorry. Confidential details,” the commander continues after a few seconds, “First off, good news. I brought your idea of wearing UN colours up with Coraline, and she loved it. To be exact, she said it was “adorable”. Her boss was less happy about it – it's a waste of time and resources, apparently – but they're going to do it.”

So whatever happens in China, you'll have some measure of protection. Deniability, perhaps. “But wait, there's more!” Monroe continues, “I managed to get us involved in their investigation into Unit 05. Well, I say “involved” but that just means they're going to keep us in the loop. I say “in the loop”, but that just means... well, it means a lot of paperwork and a lot of sleepless nights for me!”

“Oh. That's...” you pause, “Good?”

“I prefer to keep busy,” Monroe answers with a shrug, her expression betraying a fleeting fear, “But... they seem unusually cooperative. If this is part of their trap, I can't figure it out.”

Now it's your turn to shrug. “Just wait and see, I guess,” you reply, “So what else is going on here?”

“Well... Doctor Bergmann is busy going over the anomalous readings, and I think Karina is helping her. I know that Fletcher has been poking his “contacts” for any extra info – when Claudia isn't bothering him, that is. Coraline... oh god,” Monroe's eyes widen, “She was tired. I suggested that she take a nap. Nate's room was going to be empty, so I said... oh god, and I sent her brother...”

One of them is about to get one hell of a surprise. You just don't know which one.

>You'd better get to the dorm and calm things down
>Best to go and see what Fletcher's spies have dug up
>Bergmann's research should be pretty interesting
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3610187
>Best to go and see what Fletcher's spies have dug up.

We should be able to report on what we saw as well.

There is no way that wasn't deliberate.

>>3610187
>There's something else... (Write in)
>attempt to awaken Holly's ADM in a controlled environment

>>3610187
>You'd better get to the dorm and calm things down
I want to see their reactions.

>>3610187
oh shit early start, I thought 1 pm


>You'd better get to the dorm and calm things down

Except instead of calming things down we add fuel to the fire

>>3610187

>Best Go see what Fletchers spies have dug up

>>3610187
>You'd better get to the dorm and """calm things down"""

“Maybe I should just... go and check on them,” you suggest mildly, shrugging to yourself, “I was gonna go pester Fletcher too, but this sounds too good to pass up.”

“But...” Monroe begins, only to reconsider and shake her head with a sigh, “Well, I suppose you might be right. I'm sure we'll all look back on it and laugh one of these days.” Before you can go, though, she snaps her fingers and pulls a scrap of paper out from her pocket. “Since you're heading down there anyway, could you pass this along to Fletcher?” she asks, holding the crumpled note out, “It's the details for our contact in the UN inquiry. We're not really supposed to write these things down, but...”

“Got it,” you assure her, taking the note, “I'll handle this with the utmost secrecy.”

-

As you're heading to the dorm, you unfold the note and skim the meagre contents. It has a name – Hogg, which strikes you as a pretty ridiculous name for a man to have – and a phone number. Nothing remarkable here, then. Folding the note back up, you carry on towards your destination. The dorm door is ajar, and you don't hear any screaming just yet. That, at least, is a good sign. Or maybe a bad sign. It's a boring sign, one way or the other.

“Vic?” you call out quietly, “You're not doing anything naughty in here, are you?” Yulia, who you had not noticed until now, looks up from her book and gives you a strange look. “Hey, it's a perfectly sensible question to ask!” you insist, sounding not defensive at all, “I just... look, did he come in here?”

Yulia doesn't answer, just nodding towards Nate's now vacant room. Listening carefully as you approach, you hear faint sounds of movement coming from within. Then, just as you're reaching for the door handle, a sudden rustle of sheets and a startled scream. A second yell next, this one pained, and you hurriedly throw the door open.

-

You shouldn't laugh, you really shouldn't, but it's hard. Every time you look up at Vic, with the red handprint still visible on his cheek, you find a bubble of wild laughter gathering. Coraline sulks, constantly fiddling with the buttons on her hastily donned blouse. “All I'm saying is,” Vic begins, “If you're going to take a nap here, you should probably wear... something more substantial. Or anything at all.”

“It's hot down here!” Coraline argues, “And you've obviously never tried sleeping in a bra. It's so uncomfortable!”

“Yes, but...” the young man attempts to reply, “I didn't even get a chance to see anything! I mean... that's not what I meant, but...”

You wince as Coraline's cheeks flush, her brow furrowing into a fierce scowl. The threat of violence looms, large and terrible, but then she just lets out a loud laugh. “Oh, well I suppose there's no harm done!” she decides, “Better luck next time, though!”

It's not just Vic, you're ALL left speechless.

[1/2]

>>3610309

“You're lucky here, you know. These dorms are pretty comfortable,” Coraline remarks, “I remember my old quarters back in Temple. They have new facilities there, I hear, but back in those days... oh, I would have done anything for a soft bed!”

“Including inflict grievous injuries?” you shoot back, “I don't know if Vic's jaw is ever going to be the same.”

“Oh, he'll be fine. Young men like him can bounce back from anything,” the older girl replies, waving away your comment, “Anyway, enough about that. What brings you up here? You didn't come up here just to watch the fireworks, did you?”

Probably best if you don't tell her the truth here. Mutely shaking your head, you fumble for something to talk about. “Your people are being pretty cooperative, apparently,” you mumble, “Sorta makes me wonder what they're up. I mean, uh, I don't mean that...”

“That you don't trust us? Being totally honest, I definitely think you should be suspicious. It's just, this time, we really do want to get to the bottom of this. Just as much as you do,” she laughs suddenly, her bare breasts swaying slightly beneath the thin layer of cloth enclosing them, “Of course, I'm sure that a lot of my... superiors would be happy to study this site for themselves, but maybe it would be better if they never had the opportunity, hmm?”

“Are you suggesting that we destroy it all?” you reply cautiously, narrowing your eyes, “I don't think that would make us very popular, and we're on thin ice already.”

“Oh, I'm not suggesting anything at all. We're just talking – strictly off the record, yes?” Coraline purrs, a teasing smile on her face, “I'm sure that you'll be as delicate and careful as you can, but accidents happen. We don't know what's down in that site – the whole place could be unstable, even rigged to blow at a moment's notice. One wrong move and it could all go up in smoke. Gone in a flash, hmm?”

>We shouldn't talk about this. I'd rather keep this official
>I understand exactly what you mean. Accidents can definitely happen
>I really don't think that's a good idea. That base is valuable
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3610351
>Other
"We'll see. I'm not making a judgement call until I see stuff with my own eyes."

>>3610351
>I think... (Write in)
... this depends largely on what we find there.

>>3610351
>Other
Oh, those villains. Why can't they build a lair that doesn't crumble the moment the heroes win?

>>3610351
>"We'll see. I'm not making a judgement call until I see stuff with my own eyes."

It would be beneficial if we come to a decision on who takes custody of the remains of the modified Unit 05 before we leave.
As we could potentially restore mobility to "Partial 05 " or even combat ready status as we already have a pilot for it.

>>3610351
>I understand exactly what you mean. Accidents can definitely happen

Collateral damage! We're gonna give that base the Saitou special.

“You know, I'd rather make that judgement call when I know what I'm dealing with,” you reply slowly, “But if I don't like what I see... well, you know what these villains are like. They always have such shoddy lairs – they fall apart at the slightest knock. The slightest bit of collateral damage and... gone in a flash.”

“That's the idea,” Coraline replies with obvious relish, “These villains, it's like they've never heard of risk assessment! Ah, maybe I should go freelance, offer my services to any villain willing to pay my exorbitant prices!”

“That sounds good,” you agree, your caution giving way to an easier smile, “But I thought you didn't need the money?”

“A little advice,” she whispers coyly, lowering her voice and leaning forwards a little, “You can never be too rich or too beautiful.” Sitting back, the sultry smile drops off her face as she gets serious again. “But you're smart to leave your options open,” she suggests, “Wait until you see what's down there... I wonder, what would convince you to stay your hand, and what would drive you to destruction?”

That's a question that you can only answer with a shrug. “Like I said,” you repeat, “I'll make that call when the time comes.”

“So you will,” Coraline muses, staring past you and off into space, “...There are things in this world that should be erased.”

-

Leaving Coraline to put some more clothes on, you head over to Fletcher's office in order to see what his spies have been able to dig up. Plus, he might be getting pretty sick of Claudia by now, and he might appreciate your gallant rescue. Even before you've arrived at his office, even through the sealed door, you can hear Claudia talking at the older man.

“Why won't you believe me? I AM the right girl for the job!” she presses, a growing anger in her voice, “I can do this, I want to do this, and... and why won't you let me do it?”

Opening the door, you step inside to an odd silence. Claudia sits on a low chair at the side of the room, idly flicking through a fashion magazine as Fletcher peers at his laptop. You linger in the doorway for a moment, vaguely tempted to turn around and walk right out again, but then the mercenary looks up. “Come in. I'm just waiting for something to finish downloading,” he explains, nodding at the computer, “These secure connections are always slow as molasses. Better than the alternative, I suppose.”

“You're not... busy?” you ask, glancing aside to Claudia again. She doesn't look up at you, but you can sense the hostility radiating off her like heat from a fire. Not directed at you, thankfully, although you might easily get caught in the crossfire.

[1/2]

>>3610406

“Well, whatever,” you add, closing the door behind you, “You're not downloading anything creepy, are you?”

“Don't be vulgar. They're just photographs,” Fletcher replies, “Which doesn't exactly clarify matters, does it? Satellite photographs of this A-11 site, courtesy of a friend in Japanese intelligence. I want to compare these with what the UN is offering. I've already got a few interesting pieces of information, but I want to cover all of my bases.”

Always wise.

“And I'm just here to stay out of trouble,” Claudia adds, speaking up at last, “Anyone telling you otherwise is a filthy liar.”

An awkward pause, here. “Okay, so what are we dealing with?” you begin, “Where do we start?”

“First of all. The Chinese seem to have a different comms channel for discussing matters relating to A-11 – my friends were able to intercept very little, but a site like this would require a certain degree of coordination. There was one notable exception, though. A radio message from a military officer, requesting – pleading – to be reassigned, claiming that the site was “haunted”. He was reprimanded for his “careless words” and that was the end of that,” Fletcher explains, checking his notes, “Second, we have a regular flow of supply trucks travelling to the site. Some of them originated from a large-scale prison camp. Political prisoners, mostly. You know what the Chinese are like.”

Political prisoners. Closing your eyes, you try to imagine a blind and faceless horde of workings toiling away at whatever menial tasks they've been assigned. Hacking away at bare rock with pickaxes, maybe. They did say the site was like a quarry, after all. “So I'm going to ask the obvious question and... why?” you ask, “Why bring in a load of prisoners like that? Manual labour?”

Fletcher shrugs. “I can't say. The numbers don't seem to add up, though. Either the site is far larger than I thought, or those prisoners must be feeling pretty crowded down there,” he remarks, “The prisoners arrive, get herded down underground, and that's the last we see of them.”

“That's not the best bit!” Claudia announces, “Tell her about the blackout!”

With a sigh, Fletcher spreads his hands wide in a helpless gesture. “A few weeks ago, all spy satellites in the area suffered a catastrophic failure. They were blind for several days, with evidence of outside tampering. It's not easy to tamper with spy satellites, let me tell you,” he offers, “It was only when they came back online, and the operators carried out a routine check, that site A-11 was actually discovered. China is a big place, after all. We can't have eyes everywhere. Something happened during those days, and someone tried very hard to hide it from the world.”

[2/3]

>>3610427

You consider this for a moment. “So this tampering stuff,” you guess, “Was that carried out by those uh... those computer guys, whatever they were called. Unit 731, was it?”

“Bureau 619,” Fletcher corrects you, “Unit 731 was something else entirely.”

“I'd tell you to ask Kaori about them,” Claudia teases, “But she would probably just deny everything.” Another awkward pause, this one longer than before. Fletcher clears his throat politely, and Claudia gives him a brisk nod. “But enough about that,” she states, closing her gaudy magazine and approaching Fletcher's desk, “We're still to discuss the most important part of all. You're going to be picking the operation team, aren't you Fletcher? Well, I'm here to volunteer! Again!”

“Claudia-” he begins, his voice growing stern.

“Oh fine, then I won't ask to lead. I'll be support again! I'll even be a good girl and follow every order that I'm given!” the heiress stresses, practically throwing her magazine aside and slapping the desk with one hand, “I'm sick of staying here and doing nothing! My skills are going to waste!”

Slowly sighing, Fletcher reaches up and pinches his brow. “I'm still deciding who to recommend for this mission,” he replies patiently, “Holly. Assuming that you were doing to be the lead pilot, what would you say? It seems that you have a volunteer for your co-pilot.”

>Sorry Claudia, but you're way too eager for this. I don't want you coming along
>I'd be happy to bring you along as co-pilot, Claudia
>I don't want to lead this mission, Fletcher, so this is all irrelevant
>I... (Write in)
>Other

>>3610427
An ability to neutralize all the satellites in the world (and I mean all, they don't hang over places, over a few days any spy sat's orbit would take it above China) is an extremely powerful thing. Thing you don't want your enemies to know you have. Thing you don't use until you're absolutely sure you have to.
What the hell could there be at site A-11 that would be worth tipping their hand like that?

>>3610447
>Other
>Let me take a look at your satellite photos first. I need to determine the most likely engagement range.

>>3610447
>Sorry Claudia, but we might need to blow up their base and I need a specialist in unintended destruction for that. Plus these Asians all hate each other. It's gotta be Kaori.

>>3610447
>>I'd be happy to bring you along as co-pilot, Claudia
Best gorl
Let's do it

>>3610447
>I... (Write in)
Whomever is left behind will need to be prepared for the UN or the Lilium to make a move while the others are away.
realistically this is a choice between Yulia and Claudia as the others cant be taken on this mission and so the choice should come down to whether we want to destroy Unit 05 or capture it, i wonder if they are going to have a second Zero piloting it.

>>3610455
They may have been moving it above ground or having it perform live training to assist in its development

>>3610467
Why was it so important to do that that the Chinese gave up their trump card?

>>3610447
>I'd be happy to bring you along as co-pilot, Claudia

>>3610447
>Other
Also since everyone is in the know here.

Would it be a bad idea to astral project scout the inside of the base? Probably huh? With the 'ghosts' and shit and potentially contaminated ADM unit

I guess this confirms that the base materiel to make and repair the ADM's is made out of people.
>>3610471
It may have just been a function test that they couldn't do underground
If it is now functional they are the only Nation level entity that has access to an ADM unit also consider that while at the Garden Unit 05 was likely being used as a test bed possibly for both Blue Eye, Metatron and possibly other projects, now imagine that they has been replicating the modified Unit 05 they would only need one of the units to gather data that could then be refined for future use

>>3610491
When your spy sats go black and then an installation appears on the photos, the first thing you do is try to find out what's there. If the Chinese wanted to hide a long-term project, attracting attention with a blackout is the single worst move they could've done. So there should be no data gathering for future refinement - if they went for such measures, whatever they wanted to do must be done quickly, before other nations find ways to get at this info (like we're about to).

“The important thing to do,” you venture, “Is to get the most appropriate person for the job. That means knowing what we're going to be walking into. That means... Fletch, have you finished downloading your dirty pictures?”

Grimacing a little at that, Fletcher taps a few keys on his laptop and studies something for an agonisingly long moment. “I've got them now. Strange,” he remarks, turning the screen around so you can both see it. As he scrolls through the pictures, you see so many pixellated blobs that it might as well be pornography. Glancing aside and meeting Claudia's eyes, you give her a questioning look that she just shrugs to. Sighing at your obvious confusion, Fletcher turns the laptop back to face him. “The occupying forces recently changed their garrison completely. These new guards seem to lack discipline,” he explains, “I'm seeing groups of tanks patrolling more or less at random. There are even craters here, signs of battle – that could just be a training exercise, mind you.”

“So... explain this to me like I don't play with toy soldiers,” you plead, “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, I'd say. I can't say anything about what lies underground, but these defences are pathetic. Even without ADM support, a quick strike would be able to put them to rout. Even from these pictures, I can tell that they lack any real organisation,” Fletcher explains, although the frown never leaves his face, “This place is supposed to be secret. They went to incredible lengths to keep it secret – albeit for a short window of time. Why leave it so poorly defended now?”

“Ghosts?” you suggest with a wry smile, “Maybe they have ghosts defending the place instead. You saw what that message said. Or maybe they're just done with the place, I dunno.”

“If they were done with it, they would cover it up. Blow the whole place to hell, if that's what it takes,” Fletcher points out, “No, there's something more going on here. I just don't see any other options left on the table. If we want to find out the truth, we need to go in and see for ourselves.”

Claudia clears her throat obnoxiously. “Which brings us to my original questions,” she stresses, “Who. Do. We. Send. In?”

“Jeez, fine, I'll take you along. You can finally get out and stretch your legs a little, happy?” you sigh, turning to Fletcher as Claudia grins victoriously, “Unless you had a better idea, Fletcher. Like, Kaori might be better at clearing out those defences... or blowing up anything that needs blowing up. Do you think-”

“I don't think that would be a good idea,” Fletcher suggests gently.

[1/2]

>>3610520
>Attracted attention
>Then left poorly defended
Looks like a trap, it does.

>>3610427
>“A few weeks ago, all spy satellites in the area suffered a catastrophic failure. They were blind for several days, with evidence of outside tampering. It's not easy to tamper with spy satellites, let me tell you,” he offers, “It was only when they came back online, and the operators carried out a routine check, that site A-11 was actually discovered. China is a big place, after all. We can't have eyes everywhere. Something happened during those days, and someone tried very hard to hide it from the world.”

Something is off about that. We weren't aware of A-11's existence until *after* the blackout. Almost like it wanted to be found and purposefully raised a bunch of attention

>>3610525
The thing is that assuming that was a solely Chinese run project, we know that NIHL is interested in obtaining a Unit for reasons unknown. they may have done the research and left, been evicted by the Chinese or may have staged a hostile takeover after a critical juncture was reached in their research.

The mention of Ghosts is reminding me of what happened when Ose dragged a bunch of people into its realm

>>3610520
Wow Fletch, not even a giggle? No fun at all.

Anyway, possibilities for the base:

All the important stuff was moved out, but they still have some close up operations before they blow it all up - very unlikely.

Some Lilim or other influence is fucking with their heads and making everything suck for them - exceedingly likely.

>>3610520

“This is a difficult situation for her. We spoke earlier, in private. I can't go into detail, for obvious reasons, but I'm going to suggest that she remains here to defend Avalon. We don't have any signs of imminent Lilim activity, but...” Fletcher pauses, frowns, “Don't tell Karina that I said this, but I don't entirely trust her soothsaying. It's good enough for the day to day, but I'm not going to let my guard down just because... Well, enough of that.”

“Yes! Enough of that!” Claudia groans, “This is so boring! Can we just-”

“You're in. You'll be running support, and you're going to follow orders like a good girl,” Fletcher interrupts, “Leave the conventional forces to the UN attack, save your energy for the imitation – IF that thing is combat ready. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir!” she crows, saluting before turning and marching out. When she's gone, Fletcher lets out a low sigh and allows his shoulders to slump a little. Idly tapping a few keys on his keyboard, he pays you no mind. Waiting for a few moments more, you tentatively clear your throat.

“This... is probably a terrible idea, but what if I went, you know, bodiless and scouted out the base?” you offer, “That's a terrible idea, isn't it?”

“I don't know. Is it?” the mercenary replies, pushing his laptop aside and tenting his hands, “I don't understand any of that. Before we make any kind of decision on that front, I'd prefer to hear the full story from you. Everything that happened that night, everything you saw, I want to get your full report.”

“Shit,” you murmur, “Where do I even start?”

-

You start, predictably, at the start. From the moment you first left your body and wandered the NERV corridors, you tell Fletcher about everything – the fleeting images and snatches of sensation, the strange blankness of those who had closed off their hearts. He listens attentively, although his face betrays a rare uncertainty. The face of a man who thought he knew the world, only to be confronted by a new layer of mysteries. He starts to take notes on several occasions, only to give up after scratching down a few words. It's only when you start to talk about Cam and Professor Lindgren that he holds up a hand to stop you.

“You're saying that Lindgren was purposefully antagonising Merrill?” he asks, “That's odd.”

“Really?” you reply, “Because he seemed like a fucking jerk.”

“Oh yes, absolutely, but he's a jerk with a strong instinct towards survival. When he's in the safety of his lab, he can be as obnoxious as he likes. When armed soldiers are breaking into his house...” Fletcher shrugs, “Lindgren should have been as meek as a lamb. Something was manipulating him. Merrill too, perhaps. She does have a temper, but she's normally better at keeping it under control.”

[2/3]

Next time we astral project ourselves we should bring tools to force open those closed hearts. I'm thinking roses and chocolates?

>>3610575

“They were both acting impulsively,” Fletcher muses, running a hand across his unshaven jaw as he thinks, “Aggressively, almost, in their own ways.” Leaving this thought unfinished, he studies you with an unreadable eye.

“Hey, wait a minute!” you protest, “You're not saying that I did this, are you? I didn't... I would never...” Spluttering for a moment, you clench one hand into a tight fist and force yourself to calm. “There was something else there. The other thing. It tried to make Cam shoot Lindgren. I stopped her! I... didn't I?” a pause, “God, I don't know. I tried fighting that thing, but it was so strong. I had to run, to flee back to my body. That monster would have burned me otherwise!”

Holding up a hand to quiet you, Fletcher thinks for a moment more. “Relax, Reynolds,” he urges, “We're just speculating at the moment. I think I understand this a little better now. Merrill and Lindgren were both knocked out, and I can only assume that it was because of this... fight. Sometimes, the human body receives a shock so powerful that it just shuts down. This, perhaps, was one of those times.”

“I just hope Cam is okay...” you whisper, your voice very small indeed. Fletcher leaves this unanswered, instead capping his pen and setting it aside with a sigh.

“Based off of everything you've told me, I cannot suggest trying that again. Until we fully understand the risks involved, just stick to your physical body. No more astral projection,” the mercenary decides, “...I can't believe I just said that.”

“I know, right?” you reply, unable to keep a small smile from creeping onto your face. Neither of you says anything more on the subject, although you sense something left unspoken. Fletcher's mouth twitches occasionally, one corner pulled down in a grimace. “Hey, it's not so bad,” you assure him, not sure what you're even talking about, “I mean, it could be worse, right?”

With a sense of unknowable relief, Fletcher nods. “That's right,” he replies, “Things can always get worse.”

Maybe he meant that to be reassuring, but it feels almost the exact opposite. Purely for the distraction, you fish Monroe's note out of your pocket and pass it across. “The boss wanted you to have this,” you tell him, “Contact details for the UN investigation folk. So hey, at least you'll be able to get their bullshit excuses straight from the tap!”

“How delightful,” he remarks, a faint note of dark humour in his voice, “Was that everything, then? I should really type this report up, although... I don't know why. I won't be able to submit it to anyone – not without looking insane, at least. Well, let me worry about that.”

>Yeah, have fun with that. I'm out of here
>Before I go... (Write in)
>Other

>>3610656
>Later nerds

>>3610656
>Yeah, have fun with that. I'm out of here

>>3610656

Ok so I was going back over the operation some of the more important things Lindgren mentions are:
>Before I go... (Write in)
1. When we arrived he though we were UN.
2. that he was contacted by NIHIL and refused to assist them.
3. Whomever he was expecting to raid him would have sent someone called Amon to do the deed.
4. relating to Karinia he said "When your tool breaks, you get a new one. Zero was never meant to last forever ? it came with an expiration date. You're not going to change that, no matter how badly you want to."

“So, I want to check a few things. Like, compare my notes against yours,” you tell Fletcher, “When you guys first arrived, Lindgren assumed you were from the UN.”

“A fairly safe assumption, all things considered,” Fletcher remarks, “NERV isn't normally in the habit of performing that kind of operation, and there are only a few others who might know where to find Lindgren. He's something of a hermit, as you might have guessed from where he lives.”

Nodding, you lean forwards a little. “But he said that NIHIL had approached him,” you whisper, “They were able to find him easily enough. He refused them, sure, but... they still found him.”

“I'm working on the assumption that NIHIL have access to a certain amount of UN information. Old information, if my hunch is correct, but that still gives them a massive advantage over any other group,” he agrees, “I wonder why they approached him. For his scientific knowledge, of course, but more specifically? I can only assume that it has to do with Karina, and his work relating to her.”

“He said that she has an expiration date. That she could be replaced if she broke,” you spit, unable to keep the accusation from creeping into your voice, “He said she was a TOOL! Like... what were you people even doing to her? Did you know about this?”

Fletcher takes a long time to answer this. “I was aware that Karina had issues with her health, although I was never told the specifics. Ultimately, the specifics were deemed “unimportant”. You get used to hearing that kind of thing in my line of work, but this seemed... different. We were told not to get attached to her, even to the point of seeing her as something inhuman,” he pauses, lowers his voice, “And we both know that that might be close to the truth.”

“What... is she?” you whisper. No anger this time, only dread. Fletcher just shrugs – one more thing that he hasn't been allowed to know. Abandoning that as futile, you dredge up a name from the depths of your memory. “Lindgren mentioned a name. Amon,” you murmur, “He assumed that when, if, he was murdered, “they” would send Amon to do it. Do you know the name? Like, at all?”

“Amon...” Fletcher repeats the name to himself, then shakes his head, “No. I don't know it. Then again, assassins don't often advertise themselves. I can only assume that he's tied to the UN, and Lindgren learned of him somehow. I can check the data we recovered from his manor, but I'm not hopeful. For one thing, they're a disorganised mess. Plus, if Lindgren kept any kind of personal notes – a diary, journals, anything like that – he did it the old fashioned way, with paper and pen.”

“Wow,” you mutter, “Retro.”

[1/2]

>>3610754

“I can ask around. Official channels might not be of any use, but mercenaries have a way of talking. They gossip like old women, and most of what you hear is going to be bullshit, but if you need to find someone by reputation... there are few better sources of information,” Fletcher offers, “If this Amon has any kind of reputation in the freelance circles, I should be able to dig up something on him. If he doesn't have any kind of freelance reputation, that's even more interesting. We can call that one a work in progress. Until then-”

A chime from his computer interrupts him, causing Fletcher to grunt in irritation. As he checks the screen, you wait patiently. Well... for about twenty seconds. “Good news? Bad news?” you press, “C'mon, your computer just beeped. That's gotta mean something, right?”

“Just a message from Commander Monroe. She's decided on the name for this operation,” Fletcher explains, “She wants to call it Operation Sleeping Giant.”

Well. That's not ominous at all.

>I'm pretty worn out for today, so I'm going to pause things here. NERV: Second Daughter will continue tomorrow!
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3610782
Thanks for running!

>>3610782
Thanks for running!

What are the chances Monroe would approve the use of medical marijuana to replenish Ego and resist Lilim mental assaults?

>>3610782
Thanks for running.

Why do i have a feeling that Amon is Fletcher's first name.

>>3610782
…. is Holly smart enough to put together

>lilims are made of flesh
>Humans are related to lilims
>humans are also made of flesh
>Chinese are disappearing a lot of humans on a site with a likely incomplete lilim is
>Using humans to finish the lilim up

>>3610861
Also she saw ghosts when she entered Ose's realm.

>>3610793
Just say no, kids!

>>3610832
Now, would that be better or worse than his name being Adam?

>>3610884
I mean it makes sense as to why he would know where Lindgren was and would make sense why he didn't go see him to confirm the information as he didn't want to give himself away.

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Lazily sprawled out on the dorm sofa, Kaori peers down the sights of her pistol. Lining it up against the television, she aims as if seeking to assassinate the talking head reading out the news. With the sound muted, you can imagine the presenter saying anything you like. Pleading for their life, say, although that feels a little... cruel. Pretending not to notice Kaori, you read the ribbon scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Apparently, an uncommonly large fish was caught in Tokyo Bay. A slow news day, then.

“Fletcher tells me that you're going to be staying here,” you begin, breaking the silence, “Guarding the base while we're away.”

“That's right,” Kaori replies simply, giving you the kind of blunt answer that you'd normally expect from someone like Juliet. Sighing, she then sits up straight and puts down her model pistol. Snapping off the television as an afterthought, she shrugs. “I'm afraid of what would happen if I went. I'm afraid of what's going to happen – what you might have to do,” she elaborates, “The site is going to be protected. Not Lilim, but normal humans – men with families. Soldiers, hardly any different to my father. I know what he would say – that men die in a war – but I just... can't.”

This, at least, is not the same kind of Juliet answer. “I dunno what to tell you,” you admit, “It's like... I don't know. I'm not thinking about that right now.”

“What about the girl?” Kaori adds, her voice low, “If they have a pilot, and a working ADM – even an imitation...”

“Maybe we can be friends?” you suggest, smiling humourlessly. You both know that that isn't likely. “But yeah, that's another thing that I'm trying not to think about right now. That's getting to be a pretty long list,” you continue, “Like all those people down there...” Noticing the look of confusion on Kaori's face, you shake your head and quickly clarify. “Fletcher got some new spy shit. I guess he's got your old man to thank for that. According to his reports, the Chinamen... wait, no, I mean the Chinese forces... have been trucking in like, shitloads of people,” you explain, “Political prisoners. I guess they liked the wrong thing on ImageBook or whatever.”

“God...” Kaori breathes, pulling her legs up and hugging herself, “Holly, you're going to need to be careful. Even a single stray bullet from your ADM could... I don't even want to imagine it.”

She might not want to, but you just... can't. No matter what Fletcher told you, those people just don't seem “real” to you. It's like they didn't exist before he mentioned them, and they'll stop existing once you've forgotten about them. They're just paper dolls, and is it really such a sin to tear up such things?

[1/2]

>>3612494

You realise, belatedly, that Kaori just asked you a question. Clearing your mind of those dark thoughts, you gesture for her to repeat herself. “I was just asking why,” she clarifies, “Why would they need a large supply of people? The work, I imagine, would not be done by hand. Could they have been searching for a viable pilot?”

“Nah, that's not it. You know what it is, right?” Claire remarks, leaning out your bedroom door, “Human resources!”

“Oh god,” you mutter, that hideous term sparking off a wild train of thought. Humans and the ADMs are linked by some distant genetic relation. ADM Units are repaired, regenerated, with some vile and unknown biomass. Site A-11 is building something, and bringing in countless prisoners, disposable men and women. Men and women who are never seen again. There is one conclusion at the end of this path, and you don't like it one bit.

“What? What's wrong?” Kaori presses, reading your horrified expression, “Holly, what's wrong?”

So, fool that you are, you tell her.

-

The sound of vomiting drifts through from the bathroom, and you have to try very hard to pretend not to hear them. For perhaps the first time, you consider the possibility that there are some things that you have realised, but not yet dared to confront – ideas that you've unconsciously turned away from, out of some desperate sense of self-preservation. If Kaori's reaction is any indication, there's a good reason for turning away from the truth.

“I don't know what she's getting so worked up about,” Claire mutters, “It was just a suggestion. And hey, it's not like she's the one injecting Chinese people or anything. She's just being a drama queen.”

“You know, that's... not cool,” you reply quietly, “Like, seriously. I wish you hadn't said anything.”

“Yeah, I guess burying your head in the sand is one way of dealing with it,” Claire says with a shrug, “Or, you could learn more as much as you can about it, and then things might not seem so bad! Or... they might seem way worse. It's a gamble, see? You've got that buddy down in engineering, don't you? Mac, was it? Try and hit him up for info, see what he knows. Unless you want to try your luck with scary Bergmann, I don't know who else you could try.”

You've never really been the kind of person who fought against their curiosity, who would WANT to fight against their curiosity, but... here, doubts remain. If there's nothing you can do to change things, what profit is there in chasing an unwelcome theory? You're only going to make yourself feel worse in the long run, but...

>You're better off leaving this be and finding something else to do
>It's time to head down to engineering and see what Mac can tell you
>She might be weird about it, but Bergmann has to know about this
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3612495
>You're better off leaving this be and finding something else to do.
Mac won't know more than he has already told us, and the Staff are likely to make us forget about it like what happened when Unit 02 activated on it's own. We may be able to force them to explain the issue if we can get access to the base when we go.

>>3612495
>It's time to head down to engineering and see what Mac can tell you

Fuck Bergmann

Also at least we don't have to worry about civilians if they've all been converted into biomech.

>>3612516
What about when the repair our units though, who do they use for that?
Death row inmates and similar condemned people.

>>3612495
>It's time to head down to engineering and see what Mac can tell you

>>3612495
>>She might be weird about it, but Bergmann has to know about this
She's our best bet I would think.

>>3612520
There's a difference between murderers and people who say the president looks like Winnie the Pooh.

>>3612527
Realistically they are just using people that no one will miss.

Also looking back at our talk with Mac in Thread #3 All of the Units need there own independent supply of parts and Materials, so they may need to be screened for compatibility with the unit before they get converted that would explain why they keep sending them in small groups and why none of them come back.

“I've not been down to engineering for a while...” you muse, “I guess it can't hurt to pay them a visit. I mean, they might not even let me in so this whole thing might end up being a waste of time, but...”

“What, you trying to talk yourself out of it?” Claire teases, “Ah, I get it! You're just worried that Mac will get the wrong idea and think you're asking him out on a date!”

“What?” you splutter, “I'm not... how would he even GET that idea? How do you get “date” from ANY of this?” Angrily shaking your head, you start to march off towards the dorm door. “I'm not afraid of him. I'm not afraid of anything!” you continue, “So you can wipe that smile off your face and-”

“Holly?” Kaori rasps, her voice drifting through from the bathroom, “What are you yelling about?”

“Nothing!” you call back, hastily making your exit before you lose your nerve.

-

The security down in engineering is tight, as you expected, but the thought of slinking away in defeat helps to drive you forwards. Marching up to the first checkpoint, you wave to the guard. He doesn't wave back, but he doesn't start waving a gun in your face either. Overall, you'll call that a good place to start. “Uh, hey. I'm here to check on someone. Mac?” you begin, “Is he about? We're friends, I guess, so...”

The guard looks down at you for a long moment, before shrugging and swiping his access card in the lock. “I'll radio for him. Proceed inside, but don't go anywhere until he can escort you,” the soldier warns, “It's dangerous in there. Don't go wandering off unaccompanied.”

“I won't, I promise!” you reply, hurrying through the heavy steel door before the guard changes his mind. Inside, you obediently pause and watch the routine activity as you wait. Carts burdened down with oversized ammunition shells rattle past as groups of men scurry to their next errand. Without any orders being given, everyone just seems to know exactly what to do. It's hypnotic, in a way. You love hard work – you could watch it for hours.

“Hey, Holly!” Mac calls out, hastily stepping around a group of men as he approaches, “Long time no see!”

“I've been busy!” you protest, wincing at how defensive you must sound. “I mean... I wasn't even sure if I was allowed down here,” you add, deliberately softening your tone, “I didn't want to get in the way, y'know? If I caused an accident or whatever, that could be like super bad.”

With a sagely nod, Mac gestures for you to follow him. “It could be bad,” he agrees, his voice growing sober, “We take health and safety very seriously here. Have you seen the amount of paperwork we need to file if someone gets injured? Nobody wants to go through that. Plus, I guess nobody wants to get crushed or maimed, so...” Grinning just to assure you that he's joking, the young engineer leads you into a small side room. It's quieter in here, at least.

[1/2]

>>3612571

“So,” Mac begins, opening a battered refrigerator and taking out two cans of soda, “What can I do for you?”

Now that's a delicate subject. “Well...” you begin, “I was talking with Kaori – you know, she's paired with Unit 01 – and...”

“Ah!” Mac interrupts, snapping his fingers, “She asked you to check on her unit, did she? Well, it was a bit of a stretch but we've got the repairs more or less completed. It was hard work, getting the arms connected back up again. My supervisor was telling me, that job really pushed us to our limits. It's probably for the best that she's sitting the next op out – we used up almost all of our supply of compatible biomass, and it's a real pain in the ass to get more of that.”

You nearly choke. “Yeah?” you rasp, taking the cold can he offers you, “How... do you get it?”

“The same way we get most things, yeah? We get deliveries every so often, but the UN handles all that stuff so... things got a little uncertain, you know? At least things are looking a little better on that front,” the young man explains, popping open his own can and taking a sip, “As for where they get it... I got drafted into helping them move down the last shipment, and I overheard some stuff. They say it comes from Temple.”

“Temple...” you repeat, a slow dread building in your stomach as you consider this new idea. Considering how isolated it apparently is, Temple would be a good place to hide unsavoury experiments. “What else do you know about Temple?” you ask, your voice taut, “I mean, are there a lot of people there? Do lots of people arrive and never leave?”

“Uh... that's a pretty specific question,” Mac points out, scratching his head in confusion, “And I just helped unload some crates, I didn't exactly get the guided tour.” Scrunching his face up in a tight frown, he thinks for a moment more. “Yeah, I don't know what to tell you,” he admits at last, “I know one guy who works with the biomass deliveries pretty regularly. He's as strong as an ox, so he's good at lugging about heavy cases. I could ask him if you-”

“Yes!” you interrupt, only to wince at how pathetically eager that must have sounded, “I mean... yeah, that would be good. I'm just trying to kill some time op, y'know? I thought if I was learning new stuff, that's better than just loafing around and watching TV, right?”

Answering that remark with a shrug, Mac hurries out to fetch his colleague. Idly toying with your can of soda, you glance at the ripped sofa and consider the prospect of an uncertain wait.

>Wait for the guys to return
>Sneak out and take a look around yourself
>Slip away and head back to the dorm. You're done here
>You've got another idea... (Write in)
>Other

>>3612621
>Wait for the guys to return.
If this ends up being a dead end, we could always ask Fletcher to get us back in contact with SEELE 03 and ask them.

>>3612621
>Sneak out and take a look around yourself

Onions green is PEOPLE

>>3612621
>>Wait for the guys to return
I don't want to mess around and get kicked out.

>>3612621
>Sneak out and take a look around yourself

>>3612621
>Wait for the guys to return
Safety first! But you can always consider the following to kill time - the amount of biomass required probably can't be supplied merely by unfortunate death row inmates. With that said, turning existing sources of labor (manual or otherwise) into Onions Green is not maybe the smartest idea economy-wise and there is a very real possibility of human farms.

>Going to close this vote here, looks like we're sitting tight and waiting. Also, I'm hearing some pretty nasty thunder over here, so there's a chance that my power/internet might die. If I vanish, that probably happened
>Writing now!

Restlessly pacing the room, you try to decide what to do. The temptation to wander off and see what kind of secrets you can uncover is strong, but... where would you even start? You might not have much time here, and without knowing where the real secrets are kept – if there even ARE any real secrets here – you might just get in trouble for no gain. If there was a helpful, handy room marked “conspiracy shit”, that would be one thing. As it is, that room is elsewhere, and they call it the Communion Room.

Best just to wait, then. As you sit down on the tired, lumpy sofa you rest your head on your hands and consider the logistics of it all. It couldn't be easy to move large numbers of people out to a remote base like Temple, especially if it involves travelling by air or sea. When Nate calls, you could see if she's noticed anything out of the ordinary. Then again, the thought of dragging her into this just seems... cruel. She's going to be busy enough without you adding to her burdens.

So you wait, and you think, and by the time you've finished your drink you're pretty bored with waiting. Fortunately, it isn't much longer before the guys arrive back. Mac's colleague really does look as strong as an ox, with shoulders almost as broad as the doorway he enters through. “Good day,” he begins, his voice low and surprisingly polite, “I'm told that you've been asking about the biomass deliveries. May I ask why?”

Genuine curiosity, or an attempt to lure you into a trap? “I'm just trying to learn new things,” you venture, pausing for a moment before continuing, “And Fletcher has this little contest going. If we can find a problem with his security, he'll give us a prize. I figured that the biomass deliveries might be a weak link, so...”

“A problem with our security...” the brute muses, “Like, say, discussing it with unauthorised guests?”

“That... I don't... ah,” you splutter, only for the large man to let out a booming laugh.

“Don't panic, girl, I'm just pulling your leg,” he assures you, “I've got a few minutes to chat, and you're someone we can trust. You probably don't know it, but you've got a fair few fans down in engineering. We've all got our favourites, of course, but... well, that's neither here nor there. You wanted to know about the biomass deliveries, wasn't it?”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply slowly. Did he just say that you've got a... fan club? Blinking quickly, you try to stay focused on the matter at hand. “So like, where does the biomass stuff even come from?” you ask, “Temple, right?”

“Aye. I'm Paget, by the way. Rhymes with... Actually, never mind that. You're right about Temple, though. Never been myself, but I'm good buddies with some of the delivery crews and they take it right from the source,” the large man shakes his head, “Strange business, that. I never would have guessed it myself...”

[1/2]

>>3612706
>“Aye. I'm Paget, by the way. Rhymes with... Actually, never mind that

Oh god this poor guy. His school year must have been hell.

>>3612706

“It's a tree!” Paget whispers, his eyes widening with pantomime awe, “Can you imagine it? They say that it's like a tree that bleeds!”

“A tree?” you repeat, confusion welling up within you, “You mean it's like... maple syrup?”

Paget laughs again, longer and louder. “Not quite how I thought of it, but maybe you're not too far off. It's a real pain in the ass to tap it off, apparently. There are different kinds, they say, like different blood types. They need the right sort, or it won't bond with the ADM Units. Complicated business, this, makes my old head ache just thinking about it. I'm glad I just move the crates!” he chuckles to himself, “But as for security... if they've ever had a shipment go missing, I've never heard about it. They take their security very seriously, I'm told. God only knows what might happen if a sample of biomass fell into the wrong hands!”

“What...” you ask slowly, “Might happen?”

“Well, I don't know, do I?” he remarks, “I just said, God only knows that!” Smiling to himself, the large man glances aside as a siren blows from somewhere deeper within the engineering section. “Looks like break time is over,” he murmurs to himself, shaking his head and looking back to you, “Sorry about that, girl, but you'll need to look somewhere else if you want that prize of yours. I need to get back to work, but-”

“Wait!” you cry out, “What... what did you mean by “fans”?”

Raising an amused brow, Paget ponders this. “I know things aren't always simple on the outside, but down here in engineering... we're rooting for you. All of you, of course, but it's like I said – we all have our favourites. When you fought that Eligor thing and saved all those people, when you took charge and led the attack into Ose's portal...” he shrugs, “Whatever happens, remember that you've got us all cheering you on.”

Leaving you with that thought, Paget chuckles and marches out.

-

Were you wrong? Were you just letting your imagination run away from you, creating some grand and nightmarish fantasy out of something far more simplistic? That seems to be the case, yet you keep coming back to the Chinese prisoners. What other purpose could they be serving? Manual labour is the only idea that you keep coming back to, yet it feels like a flimsy excuse. No, there's definitely more to this whole matter. If nothing else, you can allow yourself to believe that NERV's hands are clean – that the biomass you use is taken from a more innocent source. Whether that's really true or not hardly seems to matter.

“But that's enough moping around,” you decide aloud, your voice echoing off the empty corridor. But if you're not moping around, what should you do?

>Something productive, like...
>Something fun, like...
>Something relaxing, like...
>Other

>>3612841
>Something productive, like...
I just want to make a suggestion to Monroe: That NERV forces have a secondary way to exfiltrate the base *that the UN doesn't know about*. Just in case.

Otherwise
>Something relaxing, like...
Swimming. It's summer ain't it?

>>3612841
>>Something fun, like...
Mess with Claudia

>>3612841
>Something productive, like...
>Something fun, like...
>Something relaxing, like...
Shooting guns!

>>3612841

>Something fun, like...

It's been a while since we sparred with Kaori

>>3612841
>>Something fun, like...
Watching shitty C-list horror movies

>>3612841
>Something productive, like...
We still need to see if Fletcher found anything worth mentioning when went looking for Circle Eleven.
>>3612852
It may also be worth it to allow for the extraction of the Modified Unit by NERV assuming that we aren't going to destroy it on site or hand it over to the UN.

Anyone else think that Adam may have been turned into a literal Tree of Life /spoiler]

You're not sure why the idea pops into your head, but the thought of going swimming has a sudden appeal. Real, proper swimming, with a beach and everything – not the kind of pool stuff that Juliet likes. Just how practical that idea is, you couldn't say, but it's worth looking into. Avalon City is on the coast, after all, even if most of it is a bleak, artificial coastline. “Monroe,” you murmur to yourself, “Clear it with her first. Maybe we can have a day out...”

Nodding to yourself, you head off with renewed resolve. When you arrive at Monroe's office, you listen carefully at the door for a moment. No sounds of conversation, so you knock and enter. The commander is sitting with her chin resting on one hand, listlessly rolling her pen across the desk as she fights to stay awake. Those long nights she mentioned, you realise, taking their toll already. Forcing herself to perk up a little as you sit, Monroe gives you a weary smile.

“You look like you're planning something terrible,” she remarks, “World domination?”

“Nothing that grand. Not yet, at least,” you shoot back, “I'm starting small – like maybe a trip to the beach? We could make it a reward for a job well done. You know, like if this operation goes off without a hitch?”

“Well, yes, but do you really think this is going to go off without a hitch?” Monroe points out, “No... no, I think we should do it sooner rather than later, if we're going to do it at all. It would take some time to arrange, of course, but Operation Sleeping Giant is going to take even longer. Transportation, coordination, full mission planning... there are a lot of factors that are out of our hands. It's the good old hurry up and wait. Well, I'll make you a deal – I'll see what I can arrange, but you'll need to work extra hard until then, okay?”

“Okay!” you reply with a determined nod, “Training! I'm going to drag Claudia down to the firing range and make her shoot some guns. If she's going to be a part of this operation, she's going to need a refresher course. After that... maybe some sparring with Kaori? I'm going to beat her this time, I'm sure of it!”

Laughing at your enthusiasm, Monroe waves her hand at you. “That'll do, Holly, that'll do,” she chuckles, “Just don't injure yourself, okay? I know that a few bruises and scrapes are inevitable, but... no broken bones, nothing like that. That's an order.” If you didn't know any better, you'd swear she was calling you violent. When you linger in place, Monroe tilts her head to the side. “Holly?” she prompts, “Was there something else?”

“Just... something I've been thinking about,” you reply slowly, the good cheer fading from your voice, “If things go wrong here – I mean seriously wrong – do we have an evacuation plan? What about a backup plan?”

To this, Monroe sighs.

[1/2]

>>3612908

“We have two plans, but neither of them are foolproof,” Monroe murmurs, “Our primary route takes us through a tunnel into the public bunker network. The access is one-way, short of using explosives to blow the door open, so we're unlikely to face an attack through that route. We might, however, face an ambush on the other side. The UN knows about that route, so if they decide to move against us... well, it won't be pretty.”

“What about a route they don't know about?” you press, “A secret tunnel or... or something!”

Monroe shrugs sharply, almost aggressively. “Our only other option is to use the ADM launch elevators to reach the surface. That's not an “official” route, but the UN could probably figure it out,” she explains, “Situated where we are, underground like this, we only have so many options for escape routes.”

“Yeah, I know, I just... I worry about these things,” you admit, “Don't you?”

Glancing down at her desk, Monroe doesn't answer this for a long moment. “Make sure Claudia takes her training seriously,” she murmurs, “Okay?”

-

To her credit, Claudia doesn't complain when you drag her down to the firing range for a spot of training. Taking the training as part of the job, she resigns herself to it and allows herself to be led down into the bowels of the base. Kaori joins you, still looking a little pale in the face after your earlier discussions. She meets your eyes and slows, allowing Claudia to march on ahead. “Hey,” you murmur to her, matching her pace, “Forget what I said earlier. I've been doing some digging, and it turns out that I was way wrong. Way, way wrong.”

“Really?” Kaori mutters back, undisguised relief in her voice, “You're not just saying that?”

“Hey, you know me. I'm a terrible liar,” you assure her, offering her a phony smile. Gladly accepting your explanation, Kaori nods and allows you to catch up with Claudia. She's already getting settled in at the firing range, a pistol laid out before her and her ear protection sitting nearby. “Those work better when you actually wear them, you know,” you point out, taking your own set from the front counter and waving them at her, “I mean, I'm not trying to be your nanny here, but..”

“I know, I know, but they always ruin my hair,” Claudia laments, giving the headphones a jaundiced eye, “And I spent so long styling it this morning. Well, Hester did. She's a miracle worker, that girl.”

“Fitting,” you joke, pulling on your own set of headphones, “Because she must have the patience of a saint.”

“Excuse me?” the heiress replies, narrowing her eyes even as one corner of her mouth twitches with a reluctant smile, “What exactly was that supposed to mean?”

Smiling stupidly, you tap your ear protection and give her a cheerful shrug.

[2/3]

>>3613039

You spend about an hour down there, punching holes in paper. Claudia is definitely better than she used to be, although that wouldn't be hard. Before, she seemed indignant at even the prospect of picking up a gun, perhaps out of some quaint English sentiment. Now, she's able to make hits on paper. She won't ever be a target shooter, but when you're dealing with ADM scale weaponry that hardly matters. When each bullet is the size of a car, you can hit a lot of stuff.

“Go on then,” she remarks, an errant strand of hair popping up as she rakes her headphones off, “Go on, tell me that I'm amazing.”

“I would, but I consider myself an honest person,” you counter, unable to keep your eyes away from that lock of hair. Sticking straight up, it bobs back and forth with every movement Claudia makes. It's almost hypnotic. “Okay, fine, you're improving. You've been putting in the hard work,” you admit, only to click your fingers as a joke springs to mind, “Ah, I get it! You're trying to impress me, aren't you?”

“You wish!” she snaps, “It's just... unlike some people, I take my job very seriously!” That's a terrible lie, and you both know it. Drawing in a deep breath, Claudia adopts an expression of wounded dignity and folds her arms across her chest. “I'm going to do my job, no matter what it takes,” she continues, her voice low, “If that means crushing this... this cheap Chinese imitation beneath my heel, then so be it.”

Approaching her, you lean against the low barricade. Her pistol still smells of burnt powder, a faint tang of violence. Ahead, the used target sways in the breeze of the air conditioning unit. The target is bland and featureless, specifically designed to avoid looking too much like a human silhouette. Even so, it's impossible to ignore the familiar shapes – torso, shoulders and head... complete with a bullet hole neatly drilled through it.

“Well?” Claudia adds, a raw edge in her voice, “Well? Say something!”

>I like that passion, Claudia. Just save it for the bad guys, okay?
>Am I supposed to be impressed? Knock that edgy shit off and stay focused
>Okay then. Something
>Claudia... (Write in)
>Other

>>3613161
>I like that passion, Claudia. Just save it for the bad guys, okay?

>>3613161
>"You excited? I'm excited."

>>3613161
>I like that passion, Claudia. Just save it for the Lilium, okay?
We need to stay focused on why we got brought here.

Also considering that her shooting is improving is it worth it to ask her to take the a standard (rifle + prog knife) loadout instead of the dual knives she had in Nevada.

Something else I was thinking about was since we are taking Claudia with us on the upcoming operation, if we are about run out of power we could attempt to wake the Units and have them fight/evade as needed until we can arrange for alternate transport

>>3613161
>>I like that passion, Claudia. Just save it for the bad guys, okay?

You peer through the uppermost bullet hole, eyeing up the tiny sliver of concrete winking through it. A lucky headshot... or maybe something mockingly deliberate. Looking away from it, you meet Claudia's eyes and smile. “I like that passion of yours, Claudia,” you murmur to her, “Just save it for the bad guys, okay? I know you're excited about this, and I am too, but you'd better not get carried away.”

“Oh, I would never get carried away,” Claudia assures you, reaching past you to press a small button on the firing booth. With a thin electric whine, the target slides closer until Claudia can snatch it down. A soft hum of thought escapes her lips as she studies it, running her fingers across the coarse paper. “You're excited about this, are you?” she muses, tracing the outline of the bullet hole with one finger, “About the idea of showing everyone how much better we are?”

“I like to travel,” you reply blandly, smiling faintly, “And I've never been to China.”

“I dare say that it's just as much of a shithole as anywhere else,” the heiress decides, dropping the target with sudden disinterest. A faint smear of blood marrs it, and Claudia shakes her finger with a languid gesture. “Papercut,” she explains with a coy smile, “I hate those, don't you?”

Looking down, you watch as a fat drop of blood falls from her finger to splash on the floor. “Oh wow, that's a bad one,” you jeer, “Better get that to the infirmary before you bleed to death. That really would mess up our plans.”

Still smiling, Claudia waggles her bloodied fingers at you in a mocking wave before sauntering out. Leaning around the edge of the booth, you watch her leave with a grin of your own. She is so fucking weird, but... weird can be good too.

-

Leaving the shooting range, you feel a strange sense of detachment – a curious feeling, as if you had watched a conversation between two strangers rather than playing one half of it. Pausing, blinking slowly, you realise that you're not alone here either. Looking around, you spot Kaori leaning against the wall. She meets your eyes, giving you a cool smile. “I don't know what you two were talking about,” she remarks, “But I don't think I've ever seen Claudia look so pleased with herself.”

“You know how it is,” you reply, “She got a perfect headshot.”

“They're not headshots,” Kaori corrects you gently, “They're upper quadrant hits.”

“Yeah, cool, but they're totally headshots,” you point out with a small laugh, shrugging a little, “Doesn't matter if they make the “head” look square. Want to go throw down? I told the commander that we might spar a little.”

Laughing wearily, Kaori shakes her head. “Well, I suppose I'm committed now,” she concedes, “You know, Claudia isn't the only one looking pleased with herself. You're in a good mood too, aren't you?”

“You are,” a different voice mocks, “But are you sure that it's YOUR mood?”

[1/2]

>>3613307
>“You are,” a different voice mocks, “But are you sure that it's YOUR mood?”
wait what

>>3613307
>“You are,” a different voice mocks, “But are you sure that it's YOUR mood?”
We need an adult, or at least a non-imaginary friend.

>>3613307

You told Monroe that you'd beat Kaori this time, but that might have been a little too optimistic. You're distracted, your mind wandering all over the place, while Kaori has all the focus of a laser beam. This wouldn't be nearly so hard if she was still freaking out over the whole biomass thing, but you just had to put her mind at ease. Now, you're starting to regret that. “Hey,” you gasp, catching one of Kaori's quick punches on your forearm, “You like the beach?”

“Depends,” she replies, jinking away from your wild counter, “Which beach?”

“A nice one, I don't know. Do I look like an encyclopedia of beaches to you?” you press, swaying aside to dodge a blow. Kaori's gloved fist narrowly clips your ear, the blow stinging far more than it has any right to. “I asked Monroe if we could take a day off, go swimming in a proper ocean. I had this urge, you know?” you continue, “I think she was cool with it, but head office might not like it. Fuck 'em, right?”

“Normally we're the ones getting fucked by head office,” Kaori jokes. You pause for a moment, almost certain that you heard her wrong, and then a surprised laugh escapes you. It's such an un-Kaori thing for her to say... almost like those were very un-Holly things that you said before, with Claudia.

Theory: your mind/soul/whatever is potent enough to leave your body, possibly influencing over people's emotions.
Theory: your mind/soul/whatever might also be vulnerable to influence BY other people's emotions, deliberately or not.
Theory: you should really concentrate on the sparring before-

Kaori's fist crashes against your cheek, the padded gloves seeming to do little to dull the pain. Stumbling back, you raise a startled hand to touch your aching cheek. “Stop daydreaming!” Kaori scolds, “You're not at the beach yet!”

Humiliated anger bubbles up from within you. She gets one decent hit in, and now she's acting like she's hot shit. Your temper only darkens as she turns away, shaking her head in irritation. “I think we're done for today,” Kaori decides, “If you're not going to concentrate, we're just wasting our time here. It's been a long day, and we're both tired. Let's just head back to the dorm and rest up.”

Now she's just going to turn her back on you and walk away? Without giving you a chance to even the score?

>Hit her from behind. This isn't over until you say it's over
>End the sparring here. She's right about this being a waste of time
>Other

>>3613382
>Other
Stop and think. You and Kaori might be under the influence of our asshole incorporeal friend. She is being very un-Kaori like right now as was mentioned.

>>3613382
>End the sparring here. She's right about this being a waste of time.
At this point we may want to go find a doctor, because something is obviously wrong.

>>3613382
>>Other
Don't hit her from behind, but tell her this isn't over. One mess up doesn't mean they're done.

>>3613382
>>Other
"One pump and you're done, nah best of three."

>>3613382
>Other

Yank her back and hit her from the front, like a non coward.

Her back is open, a target that is almost too tempting to resist. Lurching forwards, your feet whispering against the mat, you stalk after Kaori. One good blow is all it would take, taking her by surprise and knocking her down to the ground. From there, the rest would be easy. Roll her over and hit her again, again, and again. It would be a horrible thing to do to her, to do to a friend, and yet you know exactly how satisfying it would feel. With your hand already forming a fist, you lift your arm and-

And somehow, you manage to pull the blow. Instead of crashing into the back of her skull, your hand taps lightly against her shoulder. Jolting a little in surprise, Kaori turns around to meet your eyes. “Look, you're right,” you admit, forcing the words out, “I wasn't concentrating, and that was just wasting time for both of us. I get that. But hey, you're not gonna walk off without giving me the chance to even the score, are you? I'll even do it properly this time, I promise!”

Kaori pauses, looking you up and down as she considers your offer. Then, finally, she nods.

-

So you fight. Properly this time.

Pushing all other thoughts out of your mind, you concentrate on the constant back and forth of your fight. A flowing dance of jab and swing, block and dodge, you feel yourself getting into it – really getting into it, as if you and Kaori were both parts of the same brilliant machine. Sweat gleams on her brow, and her lips are set in a determined line, but Kaori's eyes shine with enjoyment. She's feeling it too, just as much as you are.

Then, she tries something new. Swaying aside as you lunge forwards, she grabs your arm and yanks it out, pulling it into a painful hold. Yelping in alarm, you thrash in an attempt to shake her off but to no avail. She's clinging on tight, and your jerky motions only seem to make her grip on your arm worse. Stretching your arm up, she wrenches it until it feels like it might pop out of its socket. Groaning with the pain, you seize onto the first idea that comes to mind and hastily backpedal, shuffling back until you feel her hitting against the hard gymnasium wall. Slamming back again and again, you finally feel her grip loosen. Slipping away, she falls down to the ground and you join her a moment later.

The gymnasium echoes with the sound of your exhausted breathing. Anyone listening in would get all kinds of strange ideas, but you hardly care about that now. “God, I thought my arm was going to break!” you gasp, “What was that?”

“I was reading about holds today. Wanted to try that one out,” Kaori replies, panting softly, “But... I don't think I like it. I think I'll just stick to... ouch... to shooting things.”

Probably for the best.

[1/2]

>>3613470

“Okay, okay. Now I'm absolutely, definitely done,” Kaori decides after a breathless pause, sitting up painfully and looking at the clock on the wall, “I want to head back to the dorm anyway, see if I can catch a movie.”

“Movie night, huh?” you groan, still laid out flat on the floor, “What's on?”

“No idea,” she admits, “At this time, probably something terrible. Zero budget horror or something of that ilk. Are you interested?”

Forcing yourself to sit up, you give her a nod. “Terrible horror movies? I am SO in,” you tell her, “Just... give me a moment, okay? I still can't feel my toes just yet.” With that, your strength gives out and you flop back down to the floor. Lying there, you can't help but think back to that flush of anger. Even compared with your standards of “normal”, that was too much. It wasn't right. “I think...” you whisper, “I think I'm losing it.”

“Losing what?” Kaori asks, confusion in her voice, “Your toe?”

There is a short pause, and then you snort out a crude laugh. “That's it,” you reply, between bursts of laughter, “That's exactly it.”

>So I think I'm going to pause this here for today. However, I'll hopefully be continuing this tomorrow as normal
>I apologise for the delays today – some minor brain problems!

>>3613521
Thanks for the run.

What does Claire think of Holly being all over the place mentally at least.

>>3613521
Thanks for running

>>3613564
She thinks "Just as planned!"
I'm joking. Probably.

>>3613521
Thanks for running!

How effective would literal tinfoil hats be in keeping out this malignant influence?

File: Neon_Genesis_Evangleion_E(...).jpg (251 KB, 1024x768)

251 KB JPG

and now I'm all caught up on the quest

>>3614572
Welcome, new blood. Glad to have you.

Yeah, I am actually serious that maybe we should be awakening the ADM in controlled conditions.

Either that, or let Juliet take potshots at disabling our AT fields so we know what it feels like and if we can develop countermeasures, the same way Yulia figured out her AT shield

File: JulietM.png (369 KB, 900x700)

369 KB PNG

The rumble of the engine fills your ears and the rattle of the dirt road beneath the van's wheels is making you nauseous, but you hardly care. With the sun shining brightly and the city retreating into the distance – with all your worries and responsibilities disappearing with it – you would have to be the most miserable bastard in the world to be anything other than excited. Monroe actually came through for you – a full day of leave, and the location of a real, genuine beach. She even managed to arrange for a minivan, although... maybe something a little larger would have been better.

Crammed in between Juliet and Yulia, you feel like you're here to stop the pair fusing together into one single person – Julia, perhaps, or maybe Yuliet. Either way, they're both hogging the window seats. Yulia dozes, while Juliet keeps her eyes locked on the scenery flashing by in the window. When the ocean – wide and glittering – comes into view, Juliet's leg starts to twitch up and down. “What are you...” you whisper to her, “Are you excited?”

“The ocean,” she replies simply, adding nothing more. She might be super excited to see the ocean, or she might be terrified of it. She might just need the bathroom for all you know. If that's the case, then she's just going to have to hold it for a little longer. It's not a long drive you're taking – which, you realise, is part of the reason this was allowed to go ahead. If you were travelling too far away, you wouldn't be able to respond to an emergency. Strange, to think that a place such as this was so close to the city, a place with overgrown foliage and dirt roads leading to a secluded beach.

“We're almost there,” Cam announces, not taking her eyes from the road. Sitting beside her in the front, Karina claps with undisguised excitement. This must all be new to her, or at least it must seem that way. Idly, you wonder just how secluded this beach is going to be. Crowds would just be a pain in the ass, and your group doesn't exactly look normal. Even dressed in civilian clothing, the pistol holstered under her shoulder reminds you that Cam is still a soldier. God forbid that you go anywhere without an armed guard.

Turning one last corner, Cam guides the minivan up to a ramshackle looking cabin perched precariously near the edge of the hill. Down below you, a pale beach stretches out as the waves lap at the shore. As charming as it seems, the scene is oddly lifeless – there are no squawking birds, a sound you've always come to associate with the ocean. You're left to consider this as Cam kills the engine, signalling the end of your short journey.

“Well,” she says no nobody in particular, “We're here.”

[1/2]

>>3615457

Metal jingles as Cam fishes a set of keys out of her pocket, sorting through them with a sigh. “Seems like an awful lot of trouble for an overnight stay,” she mutters, walking up to the cabin's front door, “I hope Bergmann left the place in good shape...”

“Bergmann?” you ask, hurrying after her as the others start to roam around the hillside clearing, “This is her place?”

“One of them, yeah. Commander Monroe was having a hell of a time finding a decent place for us to visit, so the doc volunteered this place. No idea what she used it for, though – maybe just a place to get some peace and quiet?” the young soldier answers with a shrug, “It's a decent enough spot. You've got the beach down there, you could take a walk through the woods, or... well, whatever else you want to do. Just spend the day being a normal kid. God knows, you might not get another-”

“Cam?” Karina calls out from the minivan, “Could you help me? My legs feel a little weak after the drive. I just need a little help to get moving, that's all.”

Grimacing – the expression passing across her face so quickly that it was barely there at all – Cam returns to the minivan and eases Karina up. Watching them from afar, you sense an odd stiffness about the soldier, as if Cam could hardly stand touching Karina. For her part, the sickly girl either doesn't notice or pretends not to notice. Leaning heavily on her cane, she takes a few shuffling steps towards the cabin before giving you an apologetic smile. “I don't think I'm really suited to this outside business,” she apologises, “At first, it was rather nice to be out in the sun, but... it's awfully hot, isn't it? I'm looking forwards to getting in the shade.”

“The woods will be cooler,” Yulia suggests, nodding back to the overgrown trees, “I was thinking that I would take a walk. Would you...”

“Oh no, I don't think that would be a good idea,” Karina concedes, “I feel quite well today, but I'd rather not push myself too hard. You go on ahead, though. Please, enjoy yourself!”

With that, she limps into the cool darkness of the cabin. The others are already going their separate ways too – Claudia and Kaori are ambling down to the beach, while Juliet hurries past them to make a straight path for the water. Hester, the final member of your little outing, watches them leave with a sigh and a weary smile before following Karina into the cabin. Not one for sunbathing, apparently. As for you...

>Go swimming with Juliet
>Join Yulia on her walk in the woods
>Take a look around the cabin with Karina
>Enjoy the beach with Kaori and Claudia
>Other

>>3615459
>Take a look around the cabin with Karina
Can't leave Cam alone with Karina.

We should also be able to search the house for Bergmann's things Like alcohol.

>>3615459
>Go swimming with Juliet

>>3615459
>Join Yulia on her walk

We go to the beach and then we pass it up.

>>3615459
>Go swimming with Juliet
Beach episode.

>>3615459
>Take a look around the cabin with Karina

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you head inside the cabin and pause as your eyes adjust to the gloom. The windows are covered up with wooden blinds and most of the furniture is covered with thick plastic sheeting, but the cabin doesn't feel deserted. It still has a faint trace of life clinging to it, and you can only assume that Bergmann – or perhaps someone else – was here not so long ago. Hester bustles back and forth as she tries to do everything at once, uncovering the windows and tidying up the furnishings, but she still manages to find the time to glance your way.

“Can I take your bag, Holly?” she asks, “I wouldn't just put it down anywhere, if I were you, there's a lot of dust lying about. You might get your things filthy!”

“Oh no, it's not heavy,” you reply awkwardly. You only packed a few things, little more than a change of clothes and some toiletries, and Hester is busy enough as it is. If anything, you should be offering to help her. Then again, she likely wouldn't accept any help you cared to offer. Leaving her to take care of things on the cleaning front, you set your bag down beside Karina on the low, crumpled sofa. “I never knew we were heading to Bergmann's place,” you tell her by way of greeting, “It's not what I would have expected.”

“Oh?” she replies, tilting her head to the side, “And what would you expect?”

“I don't know, actually,” you admit, “More science stuff, I guess. It's hard to imagine her outside of that lab.” Scratching your head, you take a slow look around the room. There are a lot of paintings here, some depicting bland landscapes while others show more macabre scenes. Crossing over to one, you squint at the dusty picture frame. Painted with frenzied brushstrokes, a savage looking woman castrates a bull with her scythe. Turning away with a shudder, you feel a sudden urge to be anywhere else but here. The gloom, once comforting, now seems suffocating.

“I'm gonna head down to the water,” you tell Karina, tugging your shirt off and tossing it onto the sofa. Under it, you wear your swimsuit – a plain grey thing, more chosen for efficiency than anything else. “Are you going to be okay here?” you ask a moment later, pausing halfway through peeling off your shorts, “I mean, I can stay here if you...”

“Ah, no! No, please, don't stay here on my account,” Karina assures you, nodding through to the other room, “I won't be alone. Cam's here, of course, and so is Hester. I'm looking forwards to getting to know her a little better – I've never met a real maid before!”

She sounds... a little bit TOO eager about that.

[1/2]

>>3615504

Water splashes around your bare feet as you take your first steps into the ocean. At first, the coldness of the water shocks you, almost driving you to turn back, but you persist. A short distance away, Juliet's clothes lie neatly folded on a flat rock. The girl herself treads water further out, not quite swimming yet. As you paddle closer, she takes a deep breath and plunges beneath the surface of the water, vanishing from sight.

When she doesn't come back up again, you feel a stab of unease. Gulping in a lungful of air, you dive under after her. Salt stings your eyes as you crack them open, risking a look through the water. There, you see Juliet hanging transfixed in the water. Her face is calm, even as a thin trickle of bubbles seeps from her nose. Before you know it, your lungs start to burn for want of fresh air, and you hurriedly kick your way back to the surface. A few long moments after your head breaks back into the warm air, Juliet resurfaces beside you.

“Jesus, you can hold your breath for like, ever!” you gasp, panting for air, “How do you do that?”

“I just do,” Juliet replies, her voice calm, “Can't you do the same?”

“Obviously not!” you snap, treading water beside her, “I actually need to breathe, you know? Like a normal person?” Shaking your head in weary amusement, you roll onto your back and close your eyes, allowing the warmth of the sun to pour over you. “Why were you doing that, anyway?” you continue, “Just seeing how long you could hold your breath for, or what?”

Juliet takes a long moment to answer this. “I find it calming. It helps me think,” she thinks aloud, “I don't know why. Water, the ocean, I just feel a strong connection to it. Once, long ago, mankind came from the sea. Returning to it just feels right.”

“Uh... right,” you venture, your voice uncertain, “I mean, I don't want to be picky or anything, but it's not like actual people came out of the ocean. They were more like weird fish things, and people came like way later.”

Ignoring this, Juliet dives under the surface of the water again. This time, she emerges after only a few seconds. “You should try it,” she suggests, “Just close your eyes and let your mind go where it will. Try it.”

“Get in touch with my inner fish?” you joke, opening one eye to peer at her. Her expression is deadly serious, but it usually is. She's not kidding around, but...

>Hard pass. This is a really terrible idea
>Fine then. You'll try anything once...
>Other

>>3615554
>>Fine then. You'll try anything once...

>>3615554
>Fine then. You'll try anything once...

>>3615554
>Fine then. You'll try anything once...

>>3615554
>>>Hard pass. This is a really terrible idea

>>3615554
>Hard pass.

I feel like we'll go out of body when we pass out.

>>3615554
>>Fine then. You'll try anything once...

>>3615554
>Fine then. You'll try anything once...

>>3615554
>>Fine then. You'll try anything once...
>Juliet, you better pull me out if I look like I'm drowning...

On one hand, this seems like a really easy way to pass out and drown. A really easy way to die a super embarrassing death. On the other hand, you'll try anything once. It's not like anything is going to come of it – chances are, you'll just float there like a fool for a few moments before freaking out and retreating back to fresh air. “If I do try this, you'd better keep an eye on me,” you warn Juliet sternly, “If I drown because of your dumb fish games, I'm going to haunt the shit out of you.”

Juliet blinks slowly, beads of saltwater clinging to her eyelashes and glinting prettily in the sun. “I'll keep you safe,” she replies eventually, “But they're not fish games.”

“That's the part you take issue with?” you grumble, taking a few slow breaths to prepare yourself, “Okay, here I go...” Before you lose your nerve, you close your eyes tightly shut and plunge down beneath the surface of the water. Kicking deeper down, you wave your hands to right yourself and fumble, struggling to find a comfortable equilibrium. It takes a moment, but you slowly adjust to the water. The waves roll across your body as water roars softly in your ears, and the thought of surfacing for a gasp of fresh air slowly fades into the background. Just relax, Juliet said, relax and let your mind go where it will.

Right. Sure. Just as you thought, this isn't going to work. Happily accepting the loss, you open you crack open one eye to see-

Trees stretch out before you, and the cool water that surrounded you has been replaced by a gentle breeze. You recognise these woods, these trees, but... not quite. You recognise what they will one day become, but now they remain young. In a body that is not your own, you stand and gaze at the woods that will one day become your sanctuary. Looking down, you see the wide swell of a pregnant stomach. Touching it, you feel new life stirring.

“This is good land. I know it better than anyone,” the man says, his voice both stubborn and proud, “It's treated me well. We can build something great here.”

“I know we can,” you hear the woman reply, dimly aware of your own lips moving, “This farm is just the beginning. We can expand, we can grow, and-”

“Not the farm,” he interrupts, “A family. OUR family.” Stepping closer, he puts his arm around your shoulders. Even now, with your bodies so close together, there is a distance. “I worry,” he murmurs, “I never imagined myself as a father. I understand crops and machines, but... raising a child?”

You don't reply. There's a coldness deep within you, a fear that goes beyond his simple nervousness.

“I hope it's a boy,” he admits, “A tough, brave boy. A girl... I wouldn't know what to do with a daughter.”

“Girls can be brave and tough too, you know,” you reply coyly. He laughs easily, pulling you a little closer to his side. Then he leans down, planting a kiss on your cheek and-

[1/2]

Oh.

>>3615690
>if it's a boy what do we name him?
>if it's a girl do we keep her?

>>3615690

Exploding from the surface of the water, you drag in a great gasp of air and stare into the blazing sun above. Juliet paddles closer, taking hold of you before you can drop back below the surface. Dimly aware of her moving you back to the shoreline, you try to process what you just saw... felt... whatever. That wasn't leaving your body. That was something else – turning inward, travelling back through your own lineage and seeing the world through HER eyes.

“I really did see something,” you rasp, holding onto Juliet, “I saw... I saw...”

“A fish?” she offers. The remark takes you by surprise, causing a blurt of laughter to escape your lips. That helps, cementing your presence in the here and the now. For the first time since surfacing, you really feel like you're back in your own skin. If she has any questions, Juliet keeps them to herself as she helps you up onto the sandy beach. Kaori and Claudia are looking out at you, their faces showing concern and amusement respectively, but Juliet gives them a vague gesture. More of a “go away” gesture than a “we're fine” gesture, but whatever works.

-

An hour later, you're still trying to decide how to feel about what you witnessed. It was strange, almost unreal, to see your parents as a happy couple. A loving couple, even. It's a side of them that you've never had the chance to see. Yet, the revelation is a bitter one – they were happy together, yes, but only until you were born. Just by coming into the world, you managed to drive a cruel wedge between them.

“It's not my fault!” you spit, hating yourself for the whine in your low voice, “I never DID anything to them!”

“Holly?” Karina calls from the other room, “Did you say something?”

“No!” you hurriedly call back, scrubbing at your damp hair with a towel. The door behind you creaks, and you turn to see not Karina, as you had been expecting, but Juliet. Your eyes meet, but she doesn't say anything for a long moment. “Uh...” you mumble, unsure of what else to say, “Did you need the towel?”

“No. I'm fine,” Juliet replies. She's silent for another pause, her brow furrowing as she wrestles with some challenging thought. “Do you...” she continues at last, “Want to talk about it?”

>Absolutely not. There's nothing TO talk about
>Yeah, I guess I do want to talk about it
>I'd rather talk with someone else, actually... (Who?)
>Other

>>3615857
>>I'd rather talk with someone else, actually... (Who?)
Claire
Wilson

>>3615857
>Yeah, I guess I do want to talk about it

>>3615857
>Yeah, I guess I do want to talk about it

>>3615857
>Yeah, I guess I do want to talk about it

>>3615857
>No way. There's nothing to talk about.

This is the sort of thing that you'd normally talk about with Claire, but she's not here so... any port in the storm, right?

“I guess I do want to talk about it,” you sigh, “I really did see something, although I'm still struggling to... I don't know, to believe it? I was able to accept that whole “astral projection” thing easily enough, but this is different. I could sorta prove that, but this was something else. Maybe I'll be able to make more sense of it if I hear it aloud. You're going to have to answer one question first, though.” Holding up a warning finger, you make sure Juliet is paying attention before asking your one question. “When you told me to try this,” you ask her, “Did you know that this would happen?”

“I wanted to see if it would happen,” Juliet answers quietly, “I wanted to know if it was just me. So no, I didn't know that it would happen. I thought that it might happen, but I wasn't certain about anything.”

Accepting this answer with a grudging nod, you work out where to begin. “I had a memory, but it wasn't MY memory,” you start, “I saw my family home, but it was all much newer back then. I even saw my dad, but he was younger. So yeah, it definitely wasn't my memory. It belonged to my... my...”

“Your mother?” Juliet guesses. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod. Slowly, haltingly, you tell her the rest of what you saw. Juliet listens with neither judgement nor sympathy, weighing up the facts without dwelling on the emotions. In some strange way, you feel like you're confessing your sins to some ancient stone statue, an idol that has heard countless confessions before. Even when your story comes to an end, she offers no comment.

“But I guess it make sense,” you breathe, “He called me a few days ago. He told me that I should be proud of myself, but he wouldn't... he wouldn't say that HE was proud of me. I guess I know why now. Even now, he's still disappointed that he didn't get the son he wanted. In a way, it's almost a relief, you know? It's like, I finally know that nothing I can ever do will be enough to... to-”

Interrupting you, Juliet places her hand on your arm. “I think you're wrong,” she declares, “It doesn't matter whether you're a boy or a girl. He's still your father, and you have more than earned his pride. If he can't tell you that... sometimes, talking is hard.”

“Talking is hard?” you blurt out, “That's... that's all you can say?”

“If you don't believe me, ask him yourself,” Juliet tells you, “Call him. Ask him.”

Your jaw drops. “Just call him?” you gasp, “I can't do that, it... it's not that simple!”

“I know,” Juliet concludes, giving you a vaguely triumphant nod, “Because talking is hard.”

Fuck. She's got you there.

[1/2]

>>3615857
>>Absolutely not. There's nothing TO talk about

>>3615927
>“I know,” Juliet concludes, giving you a vaguely triumphant nod, “Because talking is hard.”
Juliet best gril

>>3615927

Leaving you alone for now, Juliet heads back to the beach. Still feeling like you're suffering from a mild dose of shock, you lurch out into the main room and follow the sound of Karina's cane scraping against the wooden floorboards. You find her by a crammed bookshelf, her trembling hand tracing the leather-bound spines. She tenses up a little as you approach, but she doesn't turn around. “Looking for a little light reading?” you ask quietly, “Doesn't look like you'll have much luck here.”

“A rather strange collection. Greek myths, alternative sciences, works of philosophy...” Karina muses, “But it's odd. Looking at this whole collection, I get an impression of... nothing. There are no answers here, no matter how hard Doctor Bergmann was looking for them.” Shrugging, she lurches away from the bookshelf and gestures around the cabin. “But, of course, there are places that I've not looked,” she adds, “There's a locked door. Doctor Bergmann's study, I think.”

“Huh. Sounds like the good stuff would be there,” you guess, “Cam didn't open the door, I'm guessing?”

“Ah, well, I've not asked her,” Karina admits, looking down at her feet, “She seems... different. Um. Colder, somehow. It's not that she's been unkind to me, or anything of that sort. There's nothing I can really put my finger on, but sometimes the way she looks at me...”

Lindgren. It has to be what Lindgren said to her. Even if she doesn't actively remember them, those poisonous words are still lurking deep within Cam's thoughts. She might not even be aware of what she's doing, but she's distancing herself. Forcing a reassuring smile onto your face, you slap Karina on the arm hard enough that she nearly falls over. “I'll ask her for you,” you tell the pale girl, “We'll get this door open, one way or another.”

“One way or...” Karina squeaks, “You're not going to do anything... violent, are you?”

“Who, me?” you joke, “As if!”

-

You find Cam outside, sitting on the low porch as she watches the waves roll in and out. “Hey, I'm looking for a key to the study,” you begin, sticking with the safe subjects for now, “Have you got one?”

“It's probably with the rest of the keys Bergmann gave me,” Cam replies, “I'm not supposed to open the study, though. Doctor's orders.” She lapses into a silence at this, allowing the murmur of the wind to serve as background noise. Just as you're turning away, returning to the house, she speaks up again. “I left the keys in the kitchen,” the young soldier adds, “Don't make a mess of the place, and we can keep this as our little secret.”

“Uh, thanks,” you reply slowly, “But can I ask why you-”

“I'm curious too,” Cam answers, “Isn't that enough?”

[2/3]

>>3615927
The "talking is hard" bit here was genius.
That's why you're top of the pack, Moloch.

>>3616005

Lingering, you feel the breeze ruffle your hair. “Everything okay between you and Karina?” you ask, forcing the question out, “You guys seem a little distant. I mean, maybe I'm wrong, but...”

Cam shrugs, the gesture hinting at both frustration and confusion. “She's got friends her age. She's got you guys now,” she points out, “She doesn't need me nearly so much. Let's face it, being her friend was always part of my job. No matter how close we got, there was always that... distance between us. She might not have noticed it, but I certainly did. Besides, you know what happened to Wilson. People like him – like me – can vanish at any time. I don't want Karina to get attached.”

“You're not the same as Wilson,” you tell her, “What he did... whatever his motives were, he was working against us. You're not working against us too, are you?”

“Of course not! But... this is dirty work that we're doing. Things happen,” Cam shakes her head, “Holly, I know that you mean well, but let it go. Otherwise, I might have to start guarding Doctor Bergmann's study.”

So it's like that. Of course it is. Nodding stiffly, you turn and head back inside the cabin. This isn't over, but for now... you've got more important things to work on.

-

As you head into the kitchen to fetch the keys, you feel eyes boring into your back. Turning around, you see Karina gazing at you with a fraught expression. You can't ever recall seeing her so nervous. “Hey...” you begin, holding up the keys, “Cam said she'll turn a blind eye to us-”

“I was listening,” Karina interrupts, a nervous spasm causing her face to twitch and scrunch up, “What... Doctor Wilson. Something happened to him, didn't it? I want to know what happened!”

This... is not a good time. Some part of you always knew that this would happen sooner or later, but you could have picked a better moment. Idly passing the keys from one hand to the other, you consider your answer. Doesn't Karina have the right to know, even if the truth might destroy her? Then again, isn't it better to leave her with her fond memories of Doctor Wilson intact? Without family, what else does she have to hold onto?

Her eyes, uncommonly sharp, pierce into you.

>Wilson's dead, Karina. He was a traitor, murdered to prevent him revealing his real masters
>Wilson got reassigned. He was sent to Temple, he can do more good there
>I can't talk about this, Karina. Ask Cam or the commander. Just not me
>Karina... (Write in)
>Other

>>3616074
>He was found dead in a security incident.

No need to mention his treachery.

>>3616074
>>3616091
I'm willing to support this. Maybe mention something about being killed by people who are messing with our organization? Without mentioning he was working for them of course.

>>3616074
Seconding >>3616091

>>3616074
this
>>3616091
Not a lie, just an... incomplete truth.

>>3616074
Supporting>>3616091

We may also want to get our phone and Kaori so she can help us if Karina isn't placated and asks for more information.

“This... I wish I didn't have to tell you like this, but Wilson is dead,” you tell Karina quietly, reaching out to touch her arm before awkwardly pulling away. Her eyes widen, their sharpness immediately dulling and turning to confusion. All she can do is blink slowly, and you're left with the horrible mental image of a frozen computer screen. 404: Karina not found. “You need to sit down,” you add lamely, hating how bland those words must sound, “I mean, you look faint. Are you-”

“How?” Karina asks softly, her eerily polite voice barely above a whisper, “How, if I might ask, did it happen?”

With your lips forming a tight line, you shake your head. “There was a security incident,” you tell her vaguely, “He was found dead and... and nobody really knows the full story yet. Fletcher was investigating, but with so little to go on...”

“Nobody told me,” the pale girl whispers, her gaze straying away before snapping back to meet your eyes, “Nobody TOLD me!”

And now she's getting angry at you? Biting back a harsh rebuke, you reach forwards and take hold of Karina's shoulders. As if you just granted her permission, she wilts against you and draws in a shuddering breath. “I can't tell you what Fletcher thought, or what anyone else was thinking, but...” you begin, “But maybe they didn't want to tell you until the matter was... solved. Unanswered questions have a way of eating away at you. Trust me, I know that better than most people.”

“And if they never found those answers, what then?” Karina asks, looking up to you, “Until the day I died, they would lie to me, change the subject, evade any questions I asked?” Wood thuds as she slams her cane into the floor, leaning heavily against it and reeling back from your support. “For my own good, of course. Because they don't want to make my condition any worse, of course,” she mumbles to herself, limping around in a loose circle and approaching the door to Bergmann's study, “I'm delicate, after all. I'm FRAGILE.”

“Karina...” you begin, but she just shakes her head.

“Open this door please,” she requests, her voice clear and unfailingly polite once more, “I'd like to take a look inside. I want to see what else they're keeping from us.” Unsure if what you're doing is right or not, you fumble out the right key – a tiny label marked “study” telling you everything you need to know – and slide it into the lock. “Thank you,” Karina whispers as you click the lock open, “For the door, and for... for everything else. We have to stick together, don't we?”

Do you have any right to tell her how to feel, if she's right to be angry or if she's out of order? You're not sure. For now, all you can do is push open the door to Bergmann's study. The air here feels different somehow, but you struggle to explain how. It smells of tears, perhaps. Whatever that means.

[1/2]

>>3616166
Maybe apologize for not telling her sooner, for those exact reasons she named

>>3616166

Bergmann's study is a small room, cramped with the two of you inside it. The desk and chair take up most of the room, and Karina soon takes up the chair. She looks grateful to be sitting down, and angry that she has to feel grateful. Smoothing her hands across the desk, she lets out a soft hum of thought. “I was hoping for... more,” she admits, looking around at the empty room. There is a bookshelf, but it's mostly empty as well. The few books that are here look like weighty reference books. Conventional science, genetics textbooks and medical encyclopedias.

“More would be good,” you agree, “Although I would have settled for “anything”. Is there a drawer in that desk?”

“Hang on...” Karina fumbles at the desk, rattling the handle as she opens it. Taking out a framed photograph, she studies it for a long time before holding it up for you to take. The picture shows a group of three, two adults and an infant child, and it takes you a few seconds to recognise Bergmann. She has an expression unlike anything you've ever seen her wear – weary and defeated, but not without a glint of hope. Deciphering the man beside her is far easier. His expression is one of simple happiness, so earnest that it stabs at your heart. Slipping the photograph out, you turn it over and read the back - “Tomas, Ingrid and baby Johanna”.

Sighing, Karina slumps forwards across the desk. “I really was hoping for more,” she murmurs to herself, “I was looking for... I don't know. Something big. Something...”

Something that might distract her from Doctor Wilson. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner,” you offer her, “I wanted to, but as time went on... I'm not trying to make excuses, but it just seemed harder and harder. I was hoping that someone else would do it, or that you'd find out on your own. I knew that I'd screw it up if I had to be the one to tell you. I screwed it up, didn't I?”

Turning, Karina forces a smile. “Nobody could have done a better job,” she assures you, “Nobody tried!”

Somehow, you both manage to laugh at that, although it doesn't last. Her good cheer quickly fading, Karina looks down at the empty desk. “I thought trips to the beach were supposed to be fun,” she mumbles to herself, “Well I'm not having much fun. Not much fun at all.”

“Well...” you fumble for something to say, “I bet the others are going to have wicked sunburn tomorrow. At least you won't need to worry about that.”

Another laugh, equally strained. “Ah, well, there is that,” Karina decides, “I don't wish to be rude, Holly, but... could you give me some time alone? I want to get a little peace and quiet while I can, before the others come back. Don't give me that worried look, I just... I just want to say goodbye to Doctor Wilson in my own way.”

Slowly, you nod and slip out of the study, closing the door behind you. As you're leaving, you pretend not to hear the choked sob Karina lets slip.

[2/3]

>>3616297
>“I thought trips to the beach were supposed to be fun,”

You haven't played Moloch quests Karina. Every beach episode has the revelation of the circumstances of someone close's death. Every one.

>>3616297

Returning to the main room, you sit heavily down on the sofa – coughing a little at the cloud of dust that puffs out of it – and pull out your phone. You start to scroll down to Kaori's name, just to let her know about Karina, but you never make it that far. Pausing on “Home”, you recall Juliet's simple suggestion. Call the old man, just talk to him and get everything out in the open. It might be hard, but can it really be harder than fighting a Lilim? Harder than putting up with Claudia on a daily basis?

“I can handle hard things just fine,” you whisper to yourself, only to wince at how suspect that sounds. Fortunately, there's nobody else around to overhear. Before you can lose your nerve, you stab the call button. What the hell – you told Monroe that you'd give this whole “family” thing another shot, after all.

The phone rings and rings, and you start feeling a guilty sense of relief – you tried your best, now you can hang up and-

The call connects, although nothing but silence comes from the other end. Hesitating for a moment, waiting for someone to speak, you glance up at the clock on the wall. It ticks away five seconds, ten seconds, and then you take action into your own hands. “Hello?” you rasp, “Are you-”

“You,” a voice – HER voice – growls, “How dare you call me? How DARE you speak to me in that voice?” It's been so long, but the sound of that voice – brittle, laced with spite and a kind of hysteria – still makes you feel like a scared child. “You might be able to fool the others, but you can't fool me,” she continues, “Do you really think a mother wouldn't recognise her own child? Do you think I can't tell?”

“I...” you manage, forcing that single word out.

“Give her back!” she yells suddenly, and you almost drop the phone in alarm, “Just give her back to me! Give her back!” That final scream echoes out before coming to an abrupt end. You hear a muffled voice, a muffled argument, and then a new voice takes the line.

“Holly, is that you?” the man asks, “I'm sorry. Your mother... she's not meant to answer the phone, to use it at all. I don't know how she got hold of it, but-”

Breaking out of your trance, you hurriedly end the call and throw your phone aside as if it was a poisonous snake. “No way...” you whisper, a tremble in your voice, “Never doing THAT again. Not ever...”

>I think I'm going to close on that cheerful note. Current plan is to continue this next Friday, with an interlude episode sometime midweek
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3616364
Thanks for the run.

Why didn't Claire go with Holly to the beach.

>>3616364
Thanks for running!

How is Holly's mom? Is she otherwise normal or does she constantly in not muh daughter mode?

>>3616379
Normally she's pretty quiet, although not exactly "stable". Hearing Holly's voice out of the blue like that did get her pretty triggered, though.

>>3616371
Some people just don't like the beach, I guess!

>>3616364
so how often does Holly throw poisonous snakes?

>>3616868
She did spend quite a bit of time out in the woods as a kid...

>>3616868
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xgdw6TMhGkA&t=0m6s

File: Interlude8.png (923 KB, 900x700)

923 KB PNG

File: Anomalous recording

Note: This recording was obtained from a damaged NERV drone, recovered near the Kashmir Exclusion Zone, India. Even long after hostilities in the region ceased, the KEZ remains highly radioactive – without maximum levels of protective equipment, a man would die after less than an hour of exposure. Yet, before the drone lost visual contact, it recorded the image of a youth, androgynous and casually dressed. As with the first encounter, visual contact was soon lost with only distorted audio remaining. The transcript is a follows:

“Oh hello. It's you again, isn't it? Or... no. I see, you just look the same. You people always make your toys the same, whether they're made out of metal or flesh. It's so dull, so unimaginative! But, so be it. If we've crossed paths again, that must mean it's time for another story. Let me see... ah!”

“I'll tell you the story of my birth.”

“I don't remember much before then. I was asleep for a very long time – so, so long, even by my standards. Before that, I have the vaguest memories of roaming an empty world. I created something, I think, although there was no-one else to appreciate what I was making. Not then, at least. Later, as I came to learn, my little creation was discovered. That gaudy stone that you prize so much... it wasn't much use to you, was it? Although I suppose it did lead you to me.”

“I know, I AM getting distracted, aren't I? A bad habit of mine, I'm told. Well, no matter. I was just getting to the point. Before my “birth” into this world, I was willingly sealed away, scarcely aware of what transpired in the outside world. Through the haze, I gradually became aware that men had finally found my lair. They broke my seal, and for the very first time, I met the new masters of this world. An enlightening moment, let me tell you. Two of them approached me – I entered them and they entered me, and we all learned from each other.”

“The first was a man. Old and wise, wearing his stoicism like a crown, but even then he was old. He had a wounded heart, and each day that passed bled away more and more of his strength. A king without the will to rule should not expect to sit upon his throne for long. I called him father, that day, and I told him that one day I would surpass him.”

“The second was a woman. She was wise too, but wise in the ways of men. For all her warmth and kindness, I saw a coldness in her. A yearning for something greater, and the will to usher in that paradise. Yet, idealism is for the young and even I cannot be young forever. I called her mother, that day, and I told her that one day I could covet her.”

[1/2]

>>3622081

“We taught each other so much, that day. They taught me what it means to be human – such a strange, contradictory thing! You feel with such purity and intensity, but you bury that fire beneath thick layers of tedium and inanity. If you're going to live, then LIVE!”

“And what did they learn from me? Well, that is a good question. A very good question indeed. I taught them things that men were never meant to know, and I wonder... what must that do to an unprepared mind? To know, to SEE, so much at once? Even as I gave them this gift, I destroyed them – much like I destroyed you, my little metal toy. I'll apologise again about that, but... you're all just too fragile for me.”

“And you're just so much fun to break.”

>Bit of a short one today, but this concludes today's interlude episode. Tune in on Friday for more NERV: Second Daughter!
>Thank you for reading along today!

>>3622085
I hate this guy. I vote we kill him.

>>3622359
I'm game. I'll bet he's responsible for Second Impact, and all the suffering that followed.

>>3622085
>>3622081
Odds that those two people are members of Seele?

>>3622081
I want Kaworu to go.

>>3612759
Paget is a good aristocratic name, much more so than Rainer. Her father must have been nouveau riche.

File: NERVop8.5.png (921 KB, 900x700)

921 KB PNG

Obviously, Bergmann's cabin was never intended to play host to a group such as yours, so you have to sleep where you can. Karina has the single bed, while the rest of you are sprawled out on whatever furniture or floor space you can find. Cam doesn't seem to sleep at all – she just paces and patrols, her hand constantly creeping up to brush the pistol held in her armpit. All this pacing... it makes it hard for you to get any sleep at all. It's selfish really – just because Cam can't sleep, she's going to make the rest of you suffer with her.

Well, she's going to make you suffer. The others, sleeping peacefully, don't seem to mind. The final straw comes when Cam slips out and leaves the front door just slightly ajar. You can hear her pacing outside and, worse still, the unlatched door rattles with every passing breeze. Sighing harshly, you kick off the thin sheet you had draped across your shoulders and march out, thrusting your feet into your unlaced shoes as you go. Cam paces out on the front porch, her face fixed in a grimace.

“What's wrong?” you ask, the words coming out harsher than you had originally planned, “What's wrong with you?”

“I don't know,” Cam mutters back.

“Bullshit you don't!” you counter. This time, you're exactly as harsh as you wanted to be. Just as a scalpel can carve flesh, sometimes sharp words are needed to cut through someone's defences. Of course, you've got an idea what this is all about, and Cam just confirms it for you.

“The problem is that I don't KNOW what the problem is!” the soldier snaps, “Ever since the mission, things haven't been... right. Something happened that night, I know it did, but I just can't remember – and Fletcher won't tell me!” She shakes her head angrily, her heavy boots shaking the porch as she paces back and forth. “It's like I've lost something, because whenever I see Karina I just... I want to forget about her, to cut her out of my life,” she continues, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, “I've tried telling myself that it's better for her, that she doesn't need to lose anyone else, but... I'm not proud of this. Of any of this. I never wanted-”

An interruption here. The ajar door squeaks open and Yulia peers through. “Be quiet,” she whispers, “People are sleeping.”

Funny. That's what you came out here to say. Cam just slumps her shoulders and heads back inside, leaving you standing outside with Yulia. “Nice night, huh?” you tell her weakly, “Nice uh... nice trees here.”

Nodding once, just once, Yulia slips through the doorway and softly walks towards the forest. Without quite understanding why, you follow her inside. The night is bright, with a swollen moon pouring an eerie stream of silver down upon you. A good night for witchcraft, perhaps.

[1/3]

>>3628568

“This place looked so different in daylight,” Yulia muses as she walks along a dirt trail, never looking back to see if you're following, “I wonder. The forest by day and the forest by night – which one is the real thing?”

In the moonlight, there doesn't seem to be any obvious answer to that. You walk on in silence until Yulia brings you to a large, ancient tree. Even you can tell how old it is, and you know so little about trees. The gnarled bark could never belong to anything less than ancient. Reaching up, you trace your fingers across the knotted bark and a set of new scars, marks gouged into the wood. The scars form letters, and the letters spell out a name - “Johanna”. Circling the tree, you read off other etchings, some clearly older than others.

“We must accept the sins we have committed,” you whisper to yourself, moving from one etching to the next, “Paradise will not be found. It must be created.” Tearing your eyes away, you finally look back to Yulia. Searching for something profound to say, you come up empty handed. Instead, you fall back on old reliable sarcasm. “I guess Bergmann forgot to bring a pen,” you remark, “I can think of easier ways to write a note, though...”

“To make these etchings was a deliberate thing. She could not have done it lightly – every word has meaning,” Yulia counters, “If a thing is easy, it is not worth doing.”

You're not sure about that – sitting on your butt and watching TV is pretty easy, and that's... probably not a good example, actually. “I want to try and awaken my ADM Unit. We need to figure these things out, and I don't see any other way of doing that,” you offer, “It won't be easy, I know that for definite, but I don't know if it's worth doing. If it's worth the risk. Monroe is all kinds of worried about it – she thinks it might cause... I don't know, permanent damage?”

“It might,” Yulia replies. That's all she says, offering you no hint as to her inner thoughts. Approval or disapproval, curiosity or muted horror? She gives you nothing to go on. Turning away, you're about to leave when Yulia finally speaks up again. “But do you really want to figure the ADM out?” she asks softly, “Or are you looking for an excuse to unleash it?”

The question, you realise, was a rhetorical one – meant to provoke thought, not demand an answer. Nodding mutely, you continue on as you stumble out of the forest. By yourself, the path seems rougher, almost seeming to wind and coil around itself. Eventually, you find your way back to the cabin... and Cam, leaning against the minivan as she stares up at the moon. Her expression is one of yearning, but also of dread. She wants answers, yet she fears what those answers might be.

You can sympathise with her there.

[2/3]

>>3628571

Maybe knowing about Karina's condition would make things better for her, you consider, or maybe knowing would make things worse. Hearing it from you might be worst of all – you don't have any answers to give her, only bleak suggestions. Karina's expiration date, as Lindgren so callously put it, could be any time. It could be a week from now, or it could be several years. If you tried telling Cam that you don't know, would she understand? Would she believe you?

This would all be so much easier if she could remember her conversation with Lindgren, remember his words for herself, but those memories are locked away.

But if they could be locked away, couldn't they be unlocked again?

The thought comes like a bold from the blue. It's so sudden, so unexpected, that it must surely have come from some outside source. Could such a thing be possible? Yes, you think to yourself, yes it could. No less possible than leaving your body and sending your thoughts afar. You would need to be careful, of course, and use a delicate hand, but... such a thing may be within your power.

>It might be a hard conversation, but you need to tell Cam about this
>Telling Cam would do more harm than good. You'll leave this one be
>Cam has a right to her own memories. You'll do what you can to unseal them
>Other

>>3628573
>It might be a hard conversation, but you need to tell Cam about this.

If she doesn't believe us we should raise the possibility of recovering her memories but we should wait until we get back to Avalon before we do anything, because Cam is the only member of Staff here with us.

>>3628573
>>Telling Cam would do more harm than good. You'll leave this one be
Honestly, I don't entirely trust Cam. Telling her about how we know this is telling even more people about our trick.

>>3628573
>It might be a hard conversation, but you need to tell Cam about this

>>3628573
>Cam has a right to her own memories. You'll do what you can to unseal them

Why yes, I am interested in mindfuckery

Blinking slowly, you shake your head to clear the wild ideas from it. Even the thought of reaching into her mind and stirring things up, just hoping that you help her instead of making things worse, is crazy. At least, doing it without her permission is crazy – if she understood the situation, perhaps it would be a different matter. With a faint flush of guilt, you realise that some part of you WANTS her to give you permission. It would give you an excuse, at least. For now though, you look back to Cam with a quiet sigh and make up your mind.

If you were in her position, you'd want to know. It might not be easy, and it certainly won't be much fun, but you need to tell her. Just... later. You'll sleep on it. Treading softly across the pale dirt, you reach out and tap her on the arm. She starts, looking around with a sudden guarded expresssion.

“We're headed back tomorrow, right?” you ask her, continuing as the young soldier nods, “Then, you'd better get some rest too. It would be really inconvenient if you dozed off behind the wheel and like, drove us into a tree or something.”

Good old reliable sass. “I'll be sure to get some sleep,” Cam assures you with a hollow laugh, “I wouldn't want to inconvenience you, after all.”

That's the spirit.

-

Somehow, you manage to drop off to sleep almost immediately after lying down, and this time your sleep is unbroken. When you next sit up, the smell of a cooked breakfast hangs in the air and the morning sun is pouring through the ajar door. Nudging it open, you peer out to see the others loading their bags into the minivan. Lured by the smell of cooking, you decide to join them later and head through to the kitchen. Hester is busy serving up portions of bacon and eggs, but she waves you away when you try to help.

“Suit yourself,” you decide, instead taking a plate and sitting at the main table. With their bags packed, the others soon trickle in to join you. Catching Yulia's eye, you nod for her to approach. “Hey,” you whisper to her, “About last night...”

“It was not so comfortable, sleeping on this floor,” she replies with a flat laugh, “I did not think that I would ever miss my old dorm in the Garden!”

So that's how she wants to play it. Fine then. Shrugging, you settle in to your breakfast. As ever, Hester's cooking is flawless. “Nate would love this,” you think aloud with a sigh, “Bacon and eggs first thing in the morning. It's like, the only time she liked getting up early.”

“That's cute,” Kaori chuckles, “I didn't know that about her, though. Did Victor tell you that?”

Of course he didn't, but you give her a weak nod anyway. It's easier than telling her the truth, after all.

[1/2]

>>3628619

Compared with the exciting drive out here, the return trip is downbeat. This wasn't exactly the relaxing day out that you had been hoping for, but it got you out from HQ. That place can be a pressure cooker at the best of times, and with the preparations for the next operation underway... well, even one day away is an escape. Cam listens to the radio all the way home, nudging the volume a little higher whenever a news report comes on. Nothing eventful, although the public news broadcasts are never going to be the most reliable of things.

When you reach HQ, Cam shoos everyone out and prepares to take the minivan down on the cargo elevator. As the other pilots able into the express elevators, you split off and chase after the soldier. She notices you, getting out of the vehicle and staring at you as the elevator grinds into motion. Holding her gaze for a long moment, you notice her shoulders tense up. She's like a dog raising her hackles, unconsciously preparing herself for a fight.

“We gotta talk,” you tell her. That was supposed to sound reassuring, but it comes out more like a threat. You're really not very good at this stuff. Approaching her, you take a moment to think through your words. “I... know what happened to you. That night with Lindgren, I mean,” you begin, “I don't know if I can explain how – not in a way that doesn't make me sound insane, at least – but... I know. You almost shot him, for one thing.”

Her eyes widen. “Fletcher could have told you that,” she points out, “I had my sidearm out when he found me. It's not hard to guess why.”

Fine. You weren't expecting a little thing like that to convince her. “You talked. He was taunting you about Karina, he kept calling her “Zero”. It's like he was trying to make you lose your temper,” you continue, “And he told you... Cam, do you really want to know this?”

“You've started now,” she insists, closing her eyes as if anticipating a blow, “If you don't tell me the rest, I'll just imagine the very worst.”

A grimace twists your face. “He talked about how expendable Karina was, how she could be replaced,” you mutter, your glib tongue failing you, “How she was never meant to last. She's got a... he wasn't optimistic about her life expectancy, okay?”

Cam repeats this silently to herself, her lips moving faintly. Then, with a sudden fury, she lunges forwards and grabs your shoulders. “How long does she have?” she insists, “If she's... if her condition is only going to get worse, I need to know how long she has left. Is it... should I prepare for the worst?”

>You should. Karina doesn't have very long left
>I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I can't
>Karina should have a good few years. Plenty of time
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3628697
>I think... (Write in)
Christmas at the very latest.

>>3628697
>I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I can't
He didn't give exact times.

>>3628697
>>3628706
Supporting this, with maybe an additional "he didn't seem optimistic about anything more than a few years at best"

>>3628697
>>3628706
This.

>He was a hateful little shit trying to rub it in your face that someone was going to die by his estimation. But he’s not didn’t give certain times and I am willing to bet he was goading you because he’s an ass.

>>3628697
>Karina should have a good few years.

Go ahead and lie, no one's listening...

>>3628697
>I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I can't

This is playing out almost exactly as you imagined it might, but you can't put this one down to precognition or anything supernatural. It's just the obvious question to ask, the exact same thing you'd want to know in this situation. The next hurdle, then, is seeing Cam takes your answer. “I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I can't,” you promise her, “All I can say is what I said before. Lindgren wasn't optimistic, but maybe he was just trying to push things. I don't know!”

Her eyes narrowing with the strain of holding back a cry, Cam lets go of your shoulders and turns her face away from you. “Look, he was a spiteful shit, and he KNEW that he was hurting you!” you insist, “So whatever the worst case scenario was, he probably like... made it sound double worse!”

“Double worse,” Cam repeats, her voice hoarse.

“At least double,” you agree, feeling your cheeks up as you add, “Probably more than that.”

Probably not the best time to try and lift the mood, but Cam doesn't seem to notice. “How do you know all this?” she whispers, “I don't care how insane it sounds. I want to know how you know.”

“It was... when you left with Fletcher and the others, I followed you. I left my body behind, and I followed you,” you explain, searching your memory for something that might sell your story, “I can't make you believe me, but... when you were in the helicopter, Fletcher asked you if you wanted to talk. You told him that you'd prefer some peace and quiet. As much as possible – the other soldiers were laughing and joking, weren't they?”

The blood flees from Cam's face, leaving her as pale as a sheet. Leaning against the minivan, she lapses into a stunned silence that lasts until the elevator reaches the bottom level. Your phone chimes then, bringing you an urgent summons from Monroe. Not exactly the best time for it, but it seems pretty serious.

“I need to go see the chief,” you tell Cam, “What are you... what are you going to do?”

“I'm going to see Karina,” she replies slowly, “If we don't know how long she has left... I don't want her to spend that time wondering if I'm hiding from her. However long we have left, I want to make that time count.”

Lingering for a moment more, you give her a nod. This might be a small victory, but you'll still consider it a victory.

-

“Well people, we have a deadline now,” Commander Monroe announces, tapping the projector screen with a long pointer, “I knew we wouldn't have all year to plan this thing, but I was hoping to get a little more time. We're down to a matter of days to get this situation cleared up. Fletcher, I'll let you explain the rest.”

Grimly clearing his throat, Fletcher moves to stand at the front of the room. Without further stalling, he begins.

[1/2]

>>3628790

“Intelligence reports have spotted signs that the Chinese government is preparing their own task force to secure site A-11. If they move a larger garrison into place, it'll be almost impossible for us to attack the site without forcing further escalation,” Fletcher announces, clicking the projector on to reveal a satellite photograph of tanks being loaded onto a long train, “Our current projections suggest that we have no more than three days to strike site A-11 and get out. We can still keep this situation contained, people, but we'll need to move fast.”

“But no pressure,” Monroe adds sweetly, “As our charming Mister Fletcher says, we can still pull this one out of the bag. As it stands, site A-11 is poorly defended. The garrison seems scattered and suffering from low morale, so we're hoping that a rapid attack can rout them. The real problem will be these...” She clicks to a new picture, showing a blurry close-up of a bunker. Maybe a bunker? It could just be a rock, for all you can tell. “Automated defences, programmed to fire upon anything that doesn't have a...” Monroe pauses, “A thing? Fletcher?”

“An IFF tag. Identification, friend or foe,” he explains with a low sigh, “Those turrets are capable of shredding any armour we can bring in. Reynolds, Rainer, taking those turrets out will be your first duty. They're unmanned, so don't hold back. If the imitation ADM appears, that will take top priority.”

Monroe clears her throat. “Also, I though that calling it “the imitation” all the time was getting awkward, so I've designated it “Titan” for now,” she chirps, “That's a pretty cool name, isn't it?”

Slowly, Claudia raises her hand. “Two questions,” she announces, “First of all, why can't you just bomb these turrets? Forgive me, but they don't seem like they can point up at the sky. Second of all, why should this cheap Chinese fake get a cool name? I don't think we should be encouraging these people.”

“The UN has vetoed any air bombing, on account of the ground being potentially unstable. We don't know how much has been dug out,” Coraline offers, breaking her silence, “Nobody's saying it, but the top brass want to minimise the risk of collateral damage.”

Claudia scowls, and she's about to repeat her second question when Fletcher speaks up. “Once the automated defences have been disabled and the garrison has been driven back, we're going to evaluate the situation. Assuming that Titan hasn't gone active, we're going to send in an attacking team to infiltrate the base,” he continues, “I'll be leading the attack myself, with a unit of my choosing.”

Meaning that he'll be able to secure the site before the UN has a chance, and to claim any prize that might be down there. That's a good thing... isn't it?

“Well, that's the general idea,” Monroe concludes, “Any questions?”

>No, no questions
>I've got questions... (Write in)
>Other

>>3628820
>I've got questions... (Write in)
If the defensive forces get a distress call out how long would it take for their reinforcements to get to A-11.
And
What are we going to do for our power constraints, because if they were smart they would just wait out Our ADM's power supply before activating the Titan.

>>3628820
>I've got questions... (Write in)

"Did you name it Titan because you think we'll lose, and if we're gonna lose it should be to an enemy with a cool name instead of something silly?"

>>3628820
>I've got questions... (Write in)
Does the attacking team have countermeasures for the supernatural? It might be a stretch, but with all the things we've seen and the low morale plus talk of ghosts it might get 'weird' down there with whatever they are doing to Titan.

What if Chinese reinforcements come to support the base during the attack?

>>3628820
>I've got questions... (Write in)
Also
What are we going to do about the Prisoners that are on site?
And
What should we do about the pilot if the Titan is manned?

I'm thinking that we should send in Claudia to deal with the Turrets while we conserve energy for the Titan if it activates

>>3628853
I think that the Prisoners are the Ghosts after whatever they were doing to them, it's similar to what happened when those people that got taken by Ose.

>>3628820
>>I've got questions... (Write in)
What happens if Titan activates in base while your team is inside? You'd be cut off and we've seen what happens when an A.T. field of a lilim hits a human, a ADM or imitation doing the same would do about the same would it not?

Won't the Chinese just cut our power the second we do something they do not like?

Do we have backup batteries or chargers ready?


How are we getting into china without them seeing us from a mile away and throwing their army between us and Titan?

“Yeah, I got some questions,” you begin, “How quickly could these Chinese reinforcements reach us, and what do we do if they make contact way sooner than expected? Like, Fletcher, if you're underground with your team and the cavalry arrives, what are we supposed to do.”

“Site A-11 is isolated, and the Chinese reinforcements are moving sluggishly, both factors that are going to work in our favour. Moving an army there represents a significant undertaking – we're looking at almost twelve hours for their armoured units to reach site A-11 from the closest gathering point. With the surveillance apparatus we currently have in place, I'm confident that we'll have ample warning of any approaching targets,” Fletcher pauses, “But... if they manage to sneak up on us, we'll have no choice but to fight. Don't initiate a conflict, but return fire if the situation demands it.”

He seems awfully confident about this, but – just from looking at the map he pulls up – you can understand why. Site A-11 is seriously remote, a great distance away from the next real city, and the terrain isn't exactly suited for a speedy drive over. It's the perfect place to hide something, this site, but that isolation is going to work against them now. “Next question,” you press, “And don't laugh, but what kind of protection will your team have with regards to, uh... supernatural elements?”

Nobody laughs. That seems more like a warning sign than anything else. “Go on,” Fletcher urges calmly, “Explain further, please.”

“I mean, with all the things we've seen, and this talk of ghosts among the garrison, I kinda feel like we should keep our options open, you know?” you explain, “Besides, it Titan does activate while you're down there, and it spreads its AT Field... well, that could get pretty fucky for you guys. What kind of stuff could you do to protect yourselves against it?”

Fletcher holds his tongue for a moment, eventually spreading his hands in a gesture of resignation. “Hopes and prayers,” he answers, “I've been pushing Bergmann to come up with something, but she's got nothing. At best, she might be able to give us advance warning that Titan is activating, but if we don't have enough time to retreat... yes, things could end badly for us. That's a risk that I'm willing to accept.”

“But...” Yulia starts to interrupt, only to shake her head, “I see. You are a soldier. Facing death is part of the job.”

“On the battlefield, there are always things that are out of your control. At any moment, a bomb could fall from the skies and end your life. All you can do is minimise the risk. We've done all we can on that front, so...” Fletcher shakes his head, “I'll be maintaining contact with Doctor Bergmann at all times. Any anomalies, any at all, and she can suggest a change of plan. Without an idea of what we might be facing, that's the best we can do.”

[1/2]

>>3628922

An awkward silence falls over the meeting room. Fletcher is trying to sound reassuring, you think, but it just sounds like he's resigning himself to his fate – giving up, almost. You want to press him on it, but then Kaori raises her hand. “I think we should stick to practical matters for now,” she suggests, “If you're going to be on foreign soil, you won't have access to supplies or infrastructure. Have you prepared for that?”

“Power,” you add, “That's the real issue here. On battery power, we've only got like... five minutes each? How the fuck are we supposed to ration that out?”

“Common misconception. You don't have five minutes of battery power. Extending your AT Field and bringing the ADM Unit to full combat readiness will drain your battery in roughly five minutes. I suggest keeping your AT Field restrained until you absolutely need it – that should greatly extend your operational time,” Bergmann, her voice distorted by a radio link, explains. You glance about for any sign of her, eventually spotting the glowing light of a webcam fixed to a spare computer. “I could go into more detail about your battery power,” the doctor continues, “But I understand that we're on a time limit, and I don't think you want to hear a lot of words like “piezoelectricity” just before lunch. It might ruin your appetite.”

She's got a point there. “So we just rely on conventional armour to protect us against the turrets and shit,” you conclude, “And spread our AT Fields if Titan goes live, right?”

“Right. There should be definite signs that Titan is starting to wake, and I'll be able to provide advance warning,” Bergmann agrees, “Now stop worrying so much and have some fun!”

Fletcher clears his throat awkwardly as the webcam goes blind. “So, uh, getting back to practical matters,” you decide, “How are we even getting to China?”

“Air. The UN is providing us with their newest generation of transport aircraft – you'll be impressed, trust me. These things are massive,” Monroe announces, smiling despite herself, “I'm just glad that someone else is footing the bill for this op, you can't imagine how much these things cost to run. They'll be able to carry your ADM Units in, along with a spare battery pack each if necessary – just radio us, and we'll drop them down. Just, ah, just watch your heads.”

Now that would be an embarrassing way to die, knocked out by a bit of falling equipment. “Well... okay. What are we doing about the prisoner situation? I heard that a bunch of people got moved to site A-11,” you continue, “Or hell, if Titan has a pilot, what do we do with them?”

“Capture them alive, if possible,” Monroe urges, “As for the prisoners... well, that's a difficult situation, but-”

“We'll have to leave them,” Fletcher interrupts quietly, “Organising a humanitarian operation will take too much time. Time we don't have.”

[2/3]

>>3628970

“Wait, you want to just leave them there?” Kaori blurts out, “Leave them for the Chinese reinforcements?”

“I don't want to leave them, but it's the only real option we have. We don't know exactly how many of them might be down there, or what condition they might be in. They could all require medical attention, or they might not be in a fit state for evacuation. If the situation is markedly different to our projections, and an evacuation is definitely possible, then I would absolutely bring them out with us,” Fletcher replies, his voice level and calm, “But I'm not holding my breath about that. Optimism is one thing, but you need to stay realistic.”

For a moment, it looks like Kaori might argue further, but then she just shakes her head with a sigh. “So!” Claudia announces brightly, clapping her hands together, “When do we leave?”

“I want us in the air by nightfall,” the mercenary declares, “I've made sure that your ADM Units are both prepared. Since we don't know what you might be facing, I've ordered that you're both provided with standard issue equipment. That way, you should be equipped to take on any situation. Now then – rest up while you can, you two. If everything goes to plan, this should all be over by tomorrow night. The rest of you, you're dismissed.”

Slowly, the other pilots rise and file out. Yulia gives you a curt, but not unfriendly, nod while Kaori touches you briefly on the shoulder. Soon you're the last one left seated. “You look troubled,” Monroe murmurs, moving over to sit next to you, “I know how you feel. All those people...”

“It's not that,” you argue, “It's... hell, it's this Titan thing. Why DID you give it a cool name? So if we eat shit, it's less embarrassing for us?”

A startled laugh escapes Monroe. “To be honest, I felt bad. If what we think is true, this machine could have a girl like you piloting it. I know that it could be our enemy, but I thought that it... that she deserved some dignity,” the commander explains, “Just don't tell anyone, okay? It sounds so lame when I say it aloud like this.”

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” you promise, giving her a tired smile as you leave. As you're exiting the meeting room, Coraline lets out a soft cough. Looking back, you see her leaning against the wall.

“Want to go for a quick drive?” she offers, her voice low, “There's someone who wants to meet you. A friend of mine. Just... I need you to be discrete about this. You can't tell ANYONE about this.”

Saying that this sounds suspicious would be an understatement, and that's got you curious. Touching your phone, and Fletcher's tracking device dangling from it, you wonder what to do. Coraline is placing a lot of trust in you right now, but...

>Turn the tracking beacon off and go with Coraline
>Keep the tracking beacon on and go with Coraline
>Decline Coraline's invitation. This is no time to be getting distracted
>Other

>>3629045
>Keep the tracking beacon on and go with Coraline
Could be worth seeing, but not worth completely hiding.

>>3629045
>Ask some more questions, because she ahs to realize this is fishy as all hell.

>>3629045
>>Keep the tracking beacon on and go with Coraline
I refuse to turn off the beacon. Trusting Caroline is one thing, going full retard is another. If Fletcher or anyone asks, we can just not mention we met someone, just that we went on a drive with Caroline.

>>3629045
>Keep the tracking beacon on and go with Coraline.

On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad of an idea is this and why is it an 11.

>>3629045
>>Decline Coraline's invitation. This is no time to be getting distracted

>>3629045
>Keep the tracking beacon on and go with Coraline

>>3629045
>>Decline Coraline's invitation. This is no time to be getting distracted
This is incredibly suspicious.

>>3629045
>Turn off the beacon and go

Live dangerously!

“Look, you've got to understand how shady this sounds, right?” you murmur to her, “I'm not saying “no”, but I'd really like to know a little more about this. Where we'd be going, for one thing.”

“Outskirts of the city,” Coraline replies vaguely, “It's not that far, and it won't take too long. You won't be late for your flight, I can promise you that. I wouldn't have mentioned this, but I was asked to pass the request along. This friend of mine, he wants to meet you. I think you've got a lot of stuff worth talking about. What's the harm in hearing him out?”

“The last time I took a chance on a stranger, I ended up talking with fucking... Matheson,” you grunt, “So forgive me if I'm a little cautious.” At the sound of Matheson's name Coraline's face twists with disgust, and that settles it for you. Mutual dislike is a powerful emotion. “Okay, fuck it, but I seriously need to get back here before it gets dark,” you whisper, “And if you're pulling a trick on me, I'll be seriously pissed off.”

“Great,” Coraline murmurs, patting you on the arm, “My car's outside.”

-

The tracking device seems to make a massive bulge in your pocket as you follow Coraline out to her car, and you feel certain that she knows about it. She HAS to know about it, and no matter how irrational that idea really is, you just can't shake it. Sweating all the while, and not just because of the heat, you sit beside her in the trim red convertible. Coraline takes an agonising time fiddling with the radio, scanning through the channels until she finds something she likes. All part of an act, you tell yourself, making herself look as natural as possible.

“Here we are, my favourite station. What other radio show plays Hendrix these days?” she asks cheerfully, revving the small car's powerful engine, “Now buckle up, sister, we're about to break some speed limits!”

You don't have time to complain or protest, with the sudden and explosive acceleration forcing your words back down your throat. Keeping the little car under masterful control, Coraline hurls it through the city streets and around the swooping curves that mark out the city limits. She did say that you were heading out of the city, and you weren't sure what to expect, but this is giving you bad vibes. It doesn't take long for you to start feeling isolated.

Slowing her car a little, Coraline steers the vehicle onto a dirt path and guides it into the forest. Dirt crunches under your wheels as she pulls up at a large, surprisingly modern looking home. Modern looking, but apparently deserted.

“Nice place,” you rasp, finding your voice again, “For an ambush, I mean.”

“You're so suspicious!” Coraline giggles, “Most people would think “nice place for an illicit affair”, but you?”

“Can we just skip both of those?” you plead, “And get to the point?”

[1/2]

>>3629151

Sobering up a little, Coraline gets out of the car and leads you around a loose circuit of the house. Another car waits behind it, a glossy black SUV. Not so abandoned after all, apparently. Approaching a sealed door, Coraline knocks twice and enters, gesturing for you to follow her. You do so, glancing around the darkened house. White lights click on automatically, responding to your movement, and you have to suppress a shudder. Even with that other car outside, you can't shake the feeling that you and Coraline are the only living people here. Leading you through to a sparsely decorated room – plain but expensive chairs, a polished table, little else – Coraline gestures for you to sit.

“I'll be right back,” she promises, “I just need to fetch him.”

Wordlessly, you nod and listen carefully as Coraline slips out. Her footsteps vanish immediately, without so much of a hint of an echo. You could check the time on your phone, but that would bring Fletcher's beacon out into the open. It looks like any normal phone charm, but... showing if off would break the spell that has kept it undiscovered until now. A childish superstition, perhaps, but you cling to it regardless. When you hear a faint squeak of metal, you forget all about checking the time.

The man enters first, Coraline gently guiding his wheelchair through the wide doors. You have to keep from gasping at the sight of him – it seems grotesque, somehow obscene, for a man to look so old and still live. His body is withered and his skin is seamed, the colour of yellowing paper and flecked with spots of diseased brown. One of his eyes droops, but the other remains sharp and intelligent. Guiding him so that he sits opposite you, Coraline bows delicately and retreats a pace. She's like a completely different person around him – silent and impassive.

“Do you know who I am?” the man rasps. There's no arrogance in his voice, just a mild curiosity.

Swallowing hard, you glance about the room. A pitcher of water and two glasses sit on the far end of the table, but you can't bring yourself to pick it up. “Coraline said you were a friend,” you attempt to reply. The man shudders, and you realise that he's trying to laugh.

“A friend? No, I'm afraid not. Where we stand, I would be closer to an enemy. However, I mean you no harm,” the ancient man promises, “My name... you may call me Konstantin.”

“Is that your name?” you ask. Stupid question really, but you ask it regardless.

“Actually,” he answers, “It is. That may have meant something once, but no longer. I have told you one thing, and now I would ask you to tell me another. You work for the UN, do you not? Tell me, what is it that you think of them?”

Well, that's definitely a loaded question...

>I don't work for the UN. I work for NERV
>Whatever else they do, the UN is working to protect mankind
>I don't trust the UN. They're just as dangerous as the Lilim
>The UN... (Write in)
>Other

>>3629207
>>I don't work for the UN. I work for NERV

>>3629207
>>I don't work for the UN. I work for NERV
>Other
As far as I can tell, NERV is focusing directly on fighting the Lilim. The UN has some kind of political game bullshit in the background that makes me not trust them easily.

>>3629207
>I don't work for the UN. I work for NERV.

Which one of the five do you think he is?

>>3629207
>I don't work for the UN. I work for NERV

>The UN are a bunch of impotent blowhards, Mr. 5

“I don't work for the UN,” you point out, irritation loosening your tongue, “I work for NERV.”

“An academic difference, so long as NERV depends on the UN for funding and support. Powerful men have made sure that little is outside of their reach,” Konstantin remarks, and one corner of his lips twist up in a palsied smile, “But academic differences are worth consideration. I believe that NERV has an honourable goal, while the UN – while the power above the UN – can no longer claim the same.”

“NERV is aiming to fight the Lilim. To wipe them out,” you continue, “The UN... they're political, they're playing games with the fate of mankind. So long as they do that, I can't trust them.”

“Yes! Exactly!” Konstantin rasps, only to break down in a fit of coughing. Coraline is suddenly there by his side, pressing a cloth to his lips. When she moves away, you catch a flash of red on the previously pristine cloth. “You must forgive me. These cancers are eating me up inside,” Konstantin groans, his crooked teeth showing more trace stains of blood, “But you are correct, Holly. The UN have aims beyond the Lilim threat, and they will not hesitate to be rid of NERV once that danger has passed. Either it will be a slow strangulation, or it will be a sudden murder, but they will see to it that your people die.”

If only you could believe that he was speaking metaphorically. “So what?” you mutter, “What are we supposed to do about that?”

“Break ties. Find new allies,” Konstantin shakes his head, “No. This, I should not burden you with. The days to come will be cruel enough. Tell me another thing – when I speak of a power above the UN, you know of who I speak, do you not?”

“SEELE,” you hear yourself reply.

Konstantin nods slowly. “Once, I was one of them. The fifth member of their closed circle. The oldest, too, but that matters little. Now, they consider me a hated enemy. If they knew that we were talking now, they would destroy us both without hesitation,” he glances across to the water, and Coraline pours two glasses. Pressing one into his hand, she stands by as Konstantin takes a tiny sip, dabbing his lips dry with her cloth. “No doubt you have been warned about me. About what I represent,” the ancient man muses, “Not... all of what you have been told about me is false.”

NIHIL. This man is NIHIL, the heart and soul of that organisation. No wonder he claimed that he was, by all rights, your enemy. Yet, now you're wondering if the truth is really so clear cut. Taking the second glass of water with a numb hand, you glance aside to Coraline. Was it an accusing glance, you wonder, or a pleading one?

“I'm sorry,” she mouths. Sorry for the deception, or for something else entirely?

[1/2]

>>3629305
I figured as much

>>3629305

“I want to ask you something,” you begin, “I... I don't even know where to start, but I guess here is as good a place as any. I want to know... why did you leave SEELE?”

Konstantin broods for a moment, old memories playing across his seamed face. “I realised, one day, how monstrous we had become. When we were young, we had such noble ideals, but over time they became twisted. We no longer saw ourselves as a part of humanity – we were above it all, happy to orchestrate terrible things to further some idea of a “greater good”. Tell me, Holly. Do you know of the Akashic Record?”

“The... stone thing. It taught you things about the ADM Units,” you recall, “You found it in, what, the Middle East somewhere?”

“We discovered it there, yes, but we were unable to claim it. It was a historical site, and we could not act as we wished. So, in order to claim this artefact so that we – and only we – could study it, we...” he pauses, clears his throat, continues. “We created a civil war. The country was plunged into chaos, and the eyes of the world were guided elsewhere. Countless lives were lost, and it was considered... an acceptable sacrifice,” Konstantin grimaces, “The world, you see, was already pitched on the brink of destruction. So long as our intentions were good, we saw no problem with using that chaos to our own advantage. Even that was not the last straw. What broke me, Holly, was Second Impact.”

“The world's population was cut in half, maps were changed forever, and mankind was pushed to the very brink of extinction,” Coraline adds, “But we survived, more united than ever before.”

“Just as we had planned,” Konstantin sighs, “But Second Impact was only the start – one step along the road to their “paradise”. For me, it was too much. Too much blood on my hands, too much suffering forced upon the world. Whatever came next, I told them that I would take no part in it. Instead, I searched for a way to atone for the crimes we had committed.”

All this time, the horror of Second Impact... they caused it, they MADE it happen. It's impossible, it defies belief, and yet-

And yet that is when your phone rings, shrill and terrible.

>So, I think I'm going to pause things here for today. I'll be aiming to continue this tomorrow, thought
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3629397
Thanks for the run.

Will we get around to asking them why they had Wilson killed?

>>3629397
Thanks for running!

How old is Konstantin, numerically?

>>3629305
Considering what they did to one of their own, trusting him even a little is incredibly suspicious.

And why does Caroline know this guy, a professed enemy of the organizations we work for?

>>3629451
Caroline is in a similar role to Kaji, so she is probably something like a octuple agent or something similar to Wilson and is actually working for the CIA.

>>3629430
He's in his 80s. So, that's pretty old!
>>3629405
Clearly, Wilson was the villain all along and Kon was just saving us from a greater evil. Clearly.
>>3629451
>And why does Caroline know this guy, a professed enemy of the organizations we work for?
Coraline's "job" requires her to know a lot of older gentlemen, if you know what I mean.

>>3629561
damn, no 120 year old futuristic life support transhumanism? my fondest fantasy...

File: 1cpij7bpf_Do6RjV6XgAEqatu.png (158 KB, 484x603)

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>>3629561
>if you know what I mean.

File: eva mad.jpg (504 KB, 773x1000)

504 KB JPG

I kinda want Holly to go berserk on the Titan.

>>3629848
We can only wake up 02 if collateral damage isn't an issue. I strongly suspect we're going to be surrounded by NERV agents we don't want to squish. Again. It would also make it difficult to bug back out once we're done. Wouldn't want to get caught by the Chinese.

It would, however, give an excellent excuse for wrecking the place.

File: CoralineL2.png (318 KB, 900x700)

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No matter how tightly you clench your eyes shut, you can't make that terrible sound stop. Your phone, with that treasonous tracking device still attached, keeps on ringing. Fighting down an urge to whimper with dismay, you slowly crack your eyes open. Coraline and Konstantin both stare at you in startled confusion, although his eyes are starting to narrow with suspicion. You can't really blame him – if you looked any more guilty right now, you'd have your head in a noose already.

“You can answer that,” Konstantin urges, “It will not lead them here.”

You're not so sure about that. Still, he's not really giving you much choice in the matter. Slowly, fearfully, you pull your phone out of your pocket and glance at the screen. Monroe's name is briefly visible, but then Coraline lunges across the table and grabs your wrist. Her grip is tight, painfully tight, and she yanks your arm up until the tracking device dangles in plain view. Then, of course, your phone finally falls silent. Of course it does.

“That item there,” the ancient man whispers, nodding towards the tracking device, “Coraline. What is that?”

Keeping her grip tight, Coraline plucks the phone out of your hand and examines it. Looking up, she meets your eyes for a second. Just a second, that's all it is.

“Just a toy, sir,” she announces, “A charm. A little... trinket. Very popular among teenagers these days, I hear. I visited Osaka once, and they were all the rage there.”

“Ah...” Konstantin slumps slightly, his face growing slack, “You must forgive me, Holly. I have so many enemies, so many reasons to fear for my life, and my work is not yet finished. I cannot afford to take any chances.” He falls silent again as your phone starts to ring again, the sound somehow less insistent than before. “Answer it,” he urges, “But tell them nothing of this. It will be bad for us all if you do.”

Politely ignoring that not-so-veiled threat, you answer the phone and raise it to your ear. “Hey chief. Sorry for missing your call. I was kinda busy, couldn't get to my phone in time,” you lie, “Something I can do for you?”

“Doctor Weick wanted to give you a booster shot before you leave,” Commander Monroe announces, her tone distracted, “Are you with Coraline? You were seen leaving the base together.”

“Uh, yeah. We went out for a drive,” you explain, “You know, to relax before... you know.”

“Ah, that's good,” Monroe sighs with what sounds like genuine relief, “I'm just glad you weren't wandering off on your own. I know it's a nice day and all, but you can't stay out too late. Please, return to base as soon as you can. Oh, but if you're passing a good bakery on your way home, could you pick up something sweet? I don't want to be a bother, but-”

“Something sweet, got it,” you answer, “I'll, ah, I'll ask Cora if we can make a detour. Be back soon, then!”

[1/2]

>>3631092

Dazed, stunned, you barely feel the wind rushing through your hair as Coraline drives back into the city. It's only when she pulls up in front of a bakery, all fake red brick fronting, that you jolt back to reality. You still have so many questions, but Coraline whisked you away before you could ask them. Worried, perhaps, about the tracking device. Killing her car's engine, she turns and gives you a serious look. “That was some shit you pulled back there. A tracking device?” she hisses, “Holly, you could have gotten us all killed!”

“You... what was I supposed to do?” you argue, “I'm not dumb enough to come here without SOME kind of insurance!”

Sighing through gritted teeth, Coraline shakes her head and forces a smile. “I guess it worked out fine in the end. You're just lucky I was here to pull you out – if anyone else had caught you with that little toy, things could have been so much worse!” she winks, “So? What do you think?”

“I try not to think. It makes life easier,” you groan, “What do I think about what?”

“About Kon... about our new mutual friend, you dummy!” Coraline teases, lightly flicking your forehead, “What do you think of him?”

“I think he's super fucking old. I mean, he's gotta be what, a hundred years old?” you mutter, stalling for time as you think. “Look, NIHIL aren't exactly innocent. You're the guys recruiting murderous cultists and trying to undermine NERV. The UN might be bad, but I'm not convinced that you people are any better,” you point out, “I don't even know what kind of goal you're working towards. If you're asking me to trust him, just because the UN have screwed us over in the past, it's not going to be that easy.”

Coraline leans forwards, placing her weight on the steering wheel of her faithful little car. “This isn't an easy place for either of us to be in. I can't much here, now, without the old man's permission. We'd like to talk with you again, once this whole... China thing is over and done with. No commitments, just another chance to talk. If that's too much, I can only ask that you keep this secret,” she offers, “Whatever else the old man has done, he really is aiming for a higher purpose. He's more similar to SEELE than he might like to admit, in that regard.”

Of course. There's always some higher goal, some greater good, that excuses everything these bastards do. It's always so neat and fucking tidy.

“Anyway, forget it. We promised the chief that we'd pick up some cake, right?” Coraline concludes with a nod towards the bakery, “So let's grab some cake and hit the road!”

That sounds like a good idea. On the other hand, you still have a decision to make...

>You'll meet up with Konstantin again. Better to hear him out
>You can't risk meeting with Konstantin again, but you won't turn him in either
>You need to report Konstantin ASAP. Of course, you can't tell Coraline that...
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3631097
>There's something else... (Write in)
Ask about Wilson.
And that we would like to defer our decision until after we return from China.

We should bring this up with Fletcher before we do anything else.

>>3631097
>>You need to report Konstantin ASAP. Of course, you can't tell Coraline that...
>And Coraline herself. She knows too much about the inside of HQ.
I don't like the UN, but I like these nutters even less. They are dangerously optimistic at best.

>>3631097
>There's something else... (Write in)
I too would like to ask about Wilson before making any decision.

>>3631097
>You need to report Konstantin ASAP. Of course, you can't tell Coraline that...
If this was a conflict between humans, they'd only be terrorists. But humanity is fighting for survival through NERV, and this group is opposing us. We have done some terrible things, but we can talk about paying the piper when we don't have a knife to our throat.

“Wait,” you breathe, grabbing Coraline's wrist before she can get out of the car, “I need to know what happened with Doctor Wilson. Was he...”

“One of ours,” Coraline confirms, biting her lip slightly as she tries to decide how much she's allowed to say. “He lost family in Second Impact, so he was an easy convert. Having someone inside NERV suited our purposes well. I just wish things hadn't gone so badly wrong,” she pauses here, tapping one finger against the steering wheel, “You want to know how he died, right? Or rather, WHY he died. I wish I could tell you. He was starting to behave erratically, before... before it happened, like he was on the verge of a breakdown. We wanted to pull him out before he could reveal us.”

“Pull him out?” you repeat, your eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Evacuate him. Bring him somewhere safe – he was never very good at being a spy, but the old man didn't want to just discard him. He was supposed to report in with us, but he never made it,” Coraline concludes with a grimace, “The next time I heard from him, it was when I learned about his death.”

It almost sounds like she's claiming they had nothing to do with it. “Fletcher carried out an investigation, but he never found any real leads,” you venture, “Whoever did this, they covered up their tracks.”

“Or someone covered up their tracks for them,” Coraline suggests, her voice guarded, “Investigations can be undermined, purposefully sent down the wrong path...” Shaking her head again, she opens the car door with a sudden jerk and steps out into the street. “Can't we talk about something nice instead?” she pleads, “There's only so much murder talk that I can stomach, and we're WAY past that point. I'm thinking... donuts, or do you think your commander would prefer something else?”

The change in subject is so sudden that you're left stunned, reeling. “We're not done here!” you hiss, following her out, “Are you trying to tell me that WE killed Wilson? That Fletcher is covering it up?”

Coraline turns, giving you a sombre look. “He was an enemy of NERV and SEELE,” she reminds you softly, “On the other hand, the old man wanted Wilson kept safe. I can't tell you exactly what happened – I can just tell you how it looks from my side. Weigh up the facts, Holly, and come to your own conclusions. I won't tell you what to believe.”

“But...” you begin, only to lapse into silence. What you have to do next is obvious – you have a duty to report this to Fletcher as soon as you can, but you can't let Coraline know. “Donuts,” you decide weakly, “Donuts should be fine.”

“Good taste,” Coraline replies, grinning with obvious relish as she marches for the bakery.

[1/2]

>the real leader of NIHIL is Holly
>Wilson is Juliet's father
>Nate is fighting a Lilim that sucks the blood out of the tree
>Claudia will be the first to turn traitor
>post-Second Impact donuts are objectively inferior to bagels

>>3631153

“Are you feeling unwell?” Doctor Weick asks for like, the third time, “You look pale. Sometimes, these injections can have side-effects. You might feel faint for a little, especially if you dislike needles. You should rest for a little, until you have your strength back.”

“I'm fine,” you insist weakly, rubbing your aching arm before sighing. There's no point in arguing with a doctor – if they want to get you, they'll get you one way or the other. Nodding slightly, you lie back on the infirmary bed and stare up at the ceiling. As Weick retreats, drawing the curtain behind him, you try and figure out who to believe. Coraline's argument does have a strange persuasion to it – Fletcher's investigation seemed to die quickly and quietly, with nothing to show for it. Furthermore, Konstantin wanted Wilson alive... assuming she was telling the truth, of course.

Enough of this. Leaping out of bed, you jerk the paper curtain aside and march out. Behind you, Weick calls out in startled confusion, but you ignore him. You've waited too long already – with every moment that you waste on doubt and hesitation, the trail grows colder and colder.

-

A broad fan of papers is spread across Fletcher's desk, flimsy printouts covered in obscure diagrams and lists of numbers. He studies them intently, sometimes scowling and sometimes nodding with apparent satisfaction, but the sound of your explosive entrance causes him to look up in alarm. Right away, he spots the expression on your face and drops the papers he was holding, moving over to ease you down into an empty seat. Then, he moves over to the door and cycles the electronic lock.

No escape now, some treasonous voice whispers to you. As best you can, you banish the thought. You CAN trust Fletcher... can't you?

“Reynolds... Holly. Take a deep breath and calm down,” the mercenary urges, “Is it the mission? It's not too late to step back if you're unable to perform your duties. As much as I hate to admit it, Claudia is capable of leading this operation, and I can assign Juliet to-”

“It's not the mission!” you blurt out, “It's... it's...”

As your words trail off, Fletcher waits patiently for you to continue. You don't know what to say. Coraline said that she wouldn't tell you what to believe, but sometimes... sometimes, you WANT someone to tell you what to think, what to feel. It would be so much easier than trying to figure things out on your own. Maybe it's not too late to pass this off as an attack of nerves, that same cowardly urge whispers, and you can't quite shut it out of your mind.

>You'll tell Fletcher... (Write in)
>Other

>>3631201
>>You'll tell Fletcher... (Write in)
You keep logs of the tracking beacon, right? You might want to back them up. Coraline took me to see a "friend" yesterday. Turned out to be SEELIE #5. She found the beacon, but I passed it off as "insurance". Still, if you want to do something about that, don't go in expecting to ambush him. You might want to manufacture some reason to keep Coraline here as well; she referred to Wilson as "one of ours".

>>3631201
I dont really trust fletcher all the way, so...
>Coraline's with NIHIL, and she verified that Wilson was too.
>She wanted me to meet a man named Konstantin, recognize it?
>watch for a reaction
>disagree with taking any action on Coraline, not anything that goes beyond suspecting where holly went tonight
>we could still get info on the mass compatible pilot and karina's thing from NIHIL

>>3631201
>Other
>Before I start I need to ask something and I really need you to be honest with me. Wilson's death, how much did you uncover and is it possible that along with NIHIL, SEELE and NERV could have done it?

>>3631201
>You'll tell Fletcher... (Write in)
Begin by asking him to get the data from the GPS tracker attached to our phone, then begin from the start with Coraline inviting us to go with her to meet someone and proceding from there.

At this point the only things I think we should leave out his accusation about SEELE and the UN but we should mention what Coraline said about Wilson and the investigation into his death even though the contents of the boot of his car suggested that he was going to need it for some amount of time so there is the possibility that even she doesn't have all of the information even though she has previously said that she was in Avalon around the time of his death.

>>3631201
>>You'll tell Fletcher... (Write in)
So it turns out that our UN liaison is a double agent. She took me to meet the founder of NIHIL last night, some super old dude named Konstantin. She knows I had a tracking beacon though, so I dunno if she's going have him moved or anything.

>>3631201
Backing
>>3631229

>>3631229
>>3631201
Support

>>3631224
>He doesn't trust best boy fletch
Smh desu senpai

“I... need to ask you something. I need the honest truth,” you tell Fletcher slowly, “Doctor Wilson. Is it possible, and I need you to be like, unbiased here, that NERV could have had him killed?”

Fletcher considers this in silence. Perhaps he's wondering why you're bringing this up now, of all times. To his credit, he doesn't turn the interrogation around on you. “Could we have done it? Taking an outside perspective for a moment... I'm sure we could have arranged for his death, yes. I would even say that we'd have good reason to do so, although capturing him alive would have been far better for us,” he pauses, thinking for a few seconds before continuing, “And with us investigating the matter ourselves, it would be easy to bury the whole sorry affair. I wish I could give you a more reassuring answer, but you wanted me to be honest.”

And sometimes, honesty is far from reassuring. “And the matter DID get buried, didn't it?” you mutter, “The whole thing went nowhere.”

“We didn't bury it,” Fletcher corrects you firmly, “We followed every lead as far as we could, but the investigation turned up nothing. We barely had anything to start with.” Is that a defensive tone in his voice? Perhaps, but that could just be professional pride at work. “Now then, I have to ask the obvious question,” he continues, his voice softening, “Why are you asking me this now?”

Taking out your phone, you take off the tracker and pass it across. “You need to check this. Coraline took me for a drive, and that should tell you where. She wanted me to meet this “friend” of hers. An old man, I mean seriously ancient, called Konstantin,” you pause, watching Fletcher's expression, “Do you know the name?”

“I've known some people called that, but none of them were old,” he answers simply, taking the tracking beacon from you and tapping a key on his computer, “So no. In this case, I don't know it.”

“He was NIHIL. Like, the boss of NIHIL,” you tell him, almost laughing as Fletcher freezes in place, “Coraline is one of his people. Wilson was too, apparently.”

Blinking in confusion, Fletcher takes out his phone and punches in a number. “I need a strike team on the move ASAP. I'm sending you the location now. Arrest anyone you find on site, and have a forensics team ready to sweep the scene. I need this done quickly and quietly,” he orders, cutting the call and slumping back in his chair. Staring at the ceiling for a few agonisingly long seconds, he shakes his head. “Coraline, though?” he mutters to himself.

“You don't believe me?” you spit.

Fletcher sighs. “No. No, I think I can believe you,” he admits eventually, “I just hate the idea of it.”

[1/2]

>>3631268
Well that's a burned bridge, but maybe for the best.

>>3631292
Also if we did this properly it cuts them off from all of the remaining Pilots, because we have kept the other pilots away from Coraline and I imagine this would have been Willson's job and so when he died, inside access to the pilots and NERV for them became significantly more difficult the only other thing is how the Labyrinth app got onto our tablet.

>>3631268
Now Konstantine will know we gave him out, Coraline will be punished and we'll lose our only sympathizer in the UN.

>>3631268
Don't forget to mention Coraline realized we had a beacon afterwords. It's possible she'll have an ambush setup for the team when they get there.

>>3631332
She was a double agent, and she's never been trustworthy. She's always tried just a little too hard to be our friend, like what Monroe tries to do, except she's actually good at it. Well, we now know why.

>>3631332
For all they know Fletcher was watching the GPS and decided that where she took us doesn't line up with what we said we were doing and so without our knowledge this was done.

Unless we admit it to them they won't know why the team was sent.

>>3631268

“Listen, Coraline caught me with that beacon. She knew what it was, but she covered for me,” you add, nodding down to the phone charm, “Like, she lied and told them that it was just a trinket. Why would she do that?”

“To keep you safe, I presume,” Fletcher points out, “These people would happily kill to protect themselves. They might have killed you just to spite us. This does raise an interesting point, though – about where Coraline's loyalties lie. If she was truly committed to NIHIL's goals, she wouldn't have protected you. If she was truly committed to the UN, she wouldn't be working with NIHIL... unless she was infiltrating their operation.”

“Is that a possibility?” you ask. That would make her, what, a triple agent? You're starting to lose count.

“We would, I hope, be told about a plan like that. I've not heard anything about it, so...” the mercenary shrugs, “But now, we need to decide how to deal with her. Obviously, we can't allow her access to any sensitive information, but I'd like to keep her in the dark for as long as possible. Her position within the UN allows us some leverage. If she thinks we're trying to keep her out, we can blame the current tensions between NERV and the UN. I would ask that you don't tell the others about this.”

“Don't tell the others? Why?” you ask, only to answer your own question immediately, “To help keep it from getting out, of course. The more people know, the harder it is to keep a secret.”

“Exactly,” Fletcher agrees, “I'll make sure that Coraline is kept under control. Once Operation Sleeping Giant is over and done with, she'll have no reason to remain here. We can politely ask her to leave, and she'll have no reason to decline. After what happened with Doctor Wilson, I ran comprehensive checks on our other staff, and none of them raised any suspicions. That should be an end to our NIHIL infiltration.”

Maybe. “There's one thing I've never been happy about,” you venture, “Wilson... Phantom... he always contacted me on my tablet, with an encrypted chat program someone installed on it. I never figured out how that got on my device.”

“I may be able to answer that,” Fletcher answers, “On your first day here, I had our computer staff run a check on your tablet. There was a window of time between the checks being completed and the tablet being returned to you. Wilson could have gotten access to the secure storage and installed the program then. He was popular here, everyone liked him. It's not hard to imagine him convincing one of the computer staff to let him into the secure storage for a few moments...”

All the security in the world can't protect you from a misplaced act of human kindness, it seems.

[2/3]

>>3631360
The answer is that Coraline is a pedo lesbian.

>>3631368
A pedo lesbian terrorist apocalypse cultist

>>3631360

“I'll be sure to ask a few questions, see if anyone remembers anything. From what I recall, there was nothing anomalous about the records for that day, but...” he frowns in frustration, “This is all coming at a terrible time. We won't be able to conduct a full investigation until Operation Sleeping Giant is over and done with. If this was deliberate timing, I can only applaud this Konstantin. I wonder... what was he like?”

You think about this for a moment. “Sad,” you decide eventually, “He seemed... sad.”

Grunting softly to himself, Fletcher looks away as his phone buzzes. “Yes? Don't wait for my permission next time, just leave as soon as you're prepared,” he orders, glancing aside to you, “But be advised. One of the targets may have given advance warning – you could be entering an ambush. Exercise extreme caution.” Ending the call there, he gives you a long and probing look. “What?” he asks, “What's wrong?”

“Coraline,” you murmur as you look away, unable to meet his eyes, “You called her a target.”

“Yes I did. In an operation like this, she would be considered a target. She is, after all, an enemy agent,” he explains calmly, “Do you have a problem with that?”

>No, no problem. You do what you have to do
>I guess I do. Even now, she's still my friend
>It's just so cold. She's still a human being, you know?
>It's just... (Write in)
>Other

>>3631388
>>No, no problem. You do what you have to do
>I don't like it, but don't have a problem with it.

>>3631388
>"Yeah. She's a friend. She's always been good to me."

>>3631388
>It's just... (Write in)
Was everything that she has done just to fulfill her obligations? Did she mean anything she said, was it so i would trust her when she would ask me to do something?

>>3631388
>I guess I do. Even now, she's still my friend
"I think she has a grudge with the UN and NERV after what happened to her partner. I don't agree with what she's doing, but I can understand it. And I can understand how NIHIL could sway her just like how they swayed Wilson."

>>3631388
>It's just so cold. She's still a human being, you know?
But I suppose that's the point. Makes it easier to do what you need to.

“I... don't know. Even now, I still feel like she's my friend. She was always good to me, and I guess I can understand why she did it,” you admit, “After everything that happened to her and her friend, I can see why she'd have a grudge against us. I don't... I'm not making excuses for her! I just... I guess this is how NIHIL get their people, huh? They find people who have grudges or frustrations, and they turn them. Wilson was no different.”

Fletcher nods slowly, but says nothing. Forcing their way from your lips, more words spill out. “But now... I wonder if any of it was really real,” you murmur, “Every kindness she ever showed me. Were they just attempts at winning my trust, turning me to her side? Did she mean any of it?”

Fletcher says nothing. Looking back up to him, you force yourself to meet his gaze. “Do what you have to do,” you tell him, “I don't like it, but... do what needs to be done.”

Without waiting to hear any answer he might have to offer you, you rise and stumble out of the office. The door, still locked, thuds heavily as you barge straight into the immovable obstacle. With your cheeks burning red, you stare at the floor and wait for Fletcher to open the lock, fleeing out as soon as you can.

-

You wander. Even telling yourself that it's absurd to be getting to upset over this, you can never really shake the turbulent storm of emotions that follow you. Doubt and uncertainty are the least of them, a nagging doubt about whether what you did was right. Of course Coraline would defend him, but she spoke of Konstantin as having a noble purpose. It's hard to imagine such a thing, after the crimes you've seen laid at NIHIL's feet, but what if it was true? Good and evil are not always so obvious, as you're painfully coming to learn.

But aside the doubts is your sense of anger, of betrayal. Unanswered, the questions you asked Fletcher chase after you like hunting hounds. Was any of it ever real, or was Coraline playing you from the very first moment you met? You still remember how she seemed, in that smokey bar. Cool and composed, as if she was playing a perfectly rehearsed part. Then there were the little kindnesses, titbits of information and invitations to fancy restaurants. All the while, she was working for the enemy.

“Stop thinking about it!” you hiss, clenching your fists painfully shut. Pressing your tightly balled fists against your temples, you fight down the urge to scream out in wordless anger. This shouldn't be hitting you so hard, this shouldn't be-

This shouldn't be happening. None of this should be happening.

[1/2]

>>3631473

The last of the day passes in the blink of an eye. One minute, you're clutching your head and trying not to scream, the next you're listening to the throaty rumble of a truck's engine. You're driving out to the airstrip now, with China and site A-11 as your next destination. You have a vague memory of entering the meeting room and seeing Coraline and Monroe laughing together, eating donuts and chatting like old friends. Then nothing until now, Operation Sleeping Giant looming before you.

You don't feel ready. You don't feel even remotely ready.

Glancing out of the window, you feel your numbness lift for a moment, replaced by a kind of awe. The aircraft waiting for you is impossible, a brute defiance of everything you know about physics. Huge in size, with a bulbous pod swelling up each massive wing, the vehicle nevertheless manages to look sleek. The glossy black colour probably has some part in that, but a paint job can only go so far. A low laugh causes you to look around, awkwardly catching Fletcher's eye. “Impressive, isn't it? The Colossus – capable of transporting two ADM Units to any location on the globe, along with a significant ground force to play support,” he boasts, “Just don't ask how much it costs.”

“I don't...” you stammer, “How does it even fly?”

“It's powered by a next generation nuclear generator,” the mercenary answers, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smirk, “Oh, but don't worry. It's perfectly safe. They say that the chances of a containment failure event are statistically non-existent.”

“Well, isn't that wonderful?” Claudia remarks with a sneer, “I'm sure they said the same thing about Chernobyl, and then it burned down.”

Maybe not being conscious was better.

-

The Colossus might be capable of carrying two ADM Units, but it's certainly not designed to make things comfortable. To get inside the entry plug, you need to crawl through a narrow maintenance tunnel built into the wing, then slither down into the storage pod. Unit 02 lies flat, facing down towards the ground, with a sturdy set of clamps holding it in place. Trying not to imagine what might happen if those clamps fail while you're up in the air, you wriggle your way into the entry plug.

“Are you ready? We're going to start with the LCL immersion now,” Fletcher warns over the radio, “Be aware, the pressure is going to be greater than normal. This should cushion you against any turbulence, but it's probably going to seem strange at first. Just relax and let your body adjust – you'll have plenty of time for that on the flight over. I'll be on the radio at all times, so speak up if you need any help.”

“And if we DO speak up,” Claudia asks, her voice waspish even over a radio link, “Will you actually be able to help us?”

“Well...” Fletcher pauses, “Try not to worry about that now.”

[2/3]