>>3695266

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

Back in your hotel room, close the door heavily behind you and lean back against it, heaving a sigh. Then, you notice a flash of white on the floor. A business card embossed with the UN logo, a scrawl writing on the back. Flipping it around, you squint at the writing.

“There are attempts to replace you in the works. Believe it or not, I'd rather not see that happen. Call me, we can talk it over.”

Adrian, of course, and he's left a number for you. Scoffing, you throw the business card down onto your desk and collapse down onto your bed.

“Admit it, you're a little curious,” the unseen voice taunts, “You WANT to see him. Just for the answers, or for something more?”

“What are you, my fucking wingman now?” you hiss, “Get out of my head, and let me get some sleep.”

-

With the curtains drawn and the lights off, you drift in the ambiguous darkness for a while. Not quite going bodiless, you hover on the edge of leaving yourself behind. It's easier now than it's ever been, perhaps because you're not sure if it's fully YOUR body. Like Nate, or the image of her, said, you've got a bit of her mixed up in you now. You've had a bit of Claire in you for a while too. Are you really the same person you were born as? Would your parents recognise you as their child?

But perhaps you're worrying too much. Even without any supernatural experiments, you're always changing and growing. The time you spent with Claire, it changed you long before the Circle Eleven trials. You influenced her, and you were influenced in turn. That's just normal life, normal human interaction.

A knock at the door. Sitting upright, you wander across to answer it. You all have your private rooms, at least, so your clumsy ambling doesn't risk waking anyone else. Cracking open the door, you see a bellboy smiling at you. “Good evening, ma'am,” he begins, “There's a man down in the lobby asking to see you. He's from your office, he said. Wanted you to have this.” The bellboy offers a business card – your second of the day – through the chained door. Mumbling an apology, you take it and start to fumble for your wallet, for a tip. By the time you find it, he's long gone.

This business card is even blanker than Adrian's card, with a meticulously neat writing on the back. No logos, nothing to suggest where it came from.

“I would like the chance to speak with you again. This time, face to face. You've had enough of statues, I'm sure. S02.”

SEELE 02, here in person?

“I'm in high demand,” you murmur, “Maybe I should have rampaged through a city sooner.”

>You'll call Adrian. A call can't be too bad, can it?
>You can't pass up the chance to meet 02 in the flesh
>You'll see what Fletcher has to say about this. His room is closer
>Time to go and see someone... (Write in)
>Other

>>3695267
>You can't pass up the chance to meet 02 in the flesh

>>3695267
>You can't pass up the chance to meet 02 in the flesh

>>3695267
>You'll see what Fletcher has to say about this. His room is closer
It's probably best to let him know where we are going, at least could we grab our phone before we leave.

>>3695266
>I'm not trying to scare you, but Germany is threatening to pull their funding from all NERV projects,

Didn't Nate restrain 02 before there was much damage or did we kill people?

>>3695284
It's probably the fact that we didn't manage to do this perfectly and that there was some unneeded damage caused.

It also leaves the future of the NERV facility in Berlin up in the air, as them pulling their support may preclude its use.

>>3695298
>Eliminated a elusive Lilim that had been absorbing people off your coast for weeks.
>But Hans' Mercedes-Benz was crushed while your ADM was crawling around so we don't want your support anymore

Okay

>>3695267
>You can't pass up the chance to meet 02 in the flesh
Would it really be that bad if we let them try to replace Holly?

It's not like Holly particularly wants to stick around, and it just sets her up to be recruited by NIHIL. Really little reason to put her out of a job.

>>3695307
I'm pretty sure the only person that actually has confirmation that the two occurrences are interlinked at this point is Holly.

Idly bending 02's business card between your hands, you think for a moment more. Then, with a jolt, you snatch up your phone and slip from the hotel room. The lock closes with a heavy click, and you hurriedly pat down your pocket to make sure that you have the key. It's exactly where it should be, a brass plate like a metal bookmark jabbing at your hand. Good. The way things have been going for you lately, locking yourself out would just be the cherry on top of a really shitty cake.

Striding down the corridor, you pause at Fletcher's room and knock lightly at the door. He answers after a moment, his eyes dark with a lack of sleep. “I'm going out for a walk. I need to get some air,” you tell him, “Are you... okay?”

“I was busy enough before all of this,” he sighs, rubbing his brow, “But don't worry about me. I'm not being shot at, so this is all small scale to me. If I'm not around later tonight, I'll still be available if you need me, just call. I need to meet with some local military types, tell them...” He trails off here, simply finishing this thought with a shake of his head.

“I guess the Germans really are thinking of pulling their funding, huh?” you mutter, your mood lowering again, “Was it... was I really that bad? I thought the others held me back. Did anyone... get hurt?”

Fletcher doesn't answer this straight away. “They're just skittish about the program. After what happened with Kaori, and now this, I can't entirely blame them,” he points out, “But we have a good track record elsewhere. I just have to show them the facts. Don't let that bother you – if you're going out for some air, you don't want my problems dragging you down.”

Hesitating for a moment, you reluctantly nod and let Fletcher close his door in your face. Then, you head downstairs to the lobby.

-

Most of this hotel is pretty low-key, but the lobby is a thing to behold. That's the point of lobbies, you suppose, give the visitors something pretty to stare at. This one is made up like a gentleman's hunting club, all wood panelling and taxidermy heads lining the walls. A few massive rifles here and there too, but those are probably just props. Europeans can be pretty weird about guns, you recall. Glancing about, you see... basically nobody. You were half expecting bodyguards in black suits, but all you see is-

“Hello,” a mild voice begins, jolting you out of your thoughts, “I wasn't certain if you'd accept my invitation.”

Turning, you watch as an older gentleman neatly folds his newspaper and sets it aside, rising to his feet and casually smoothing out his tweed suit. He fits well with the décor here, looking like he'd be right at home with a shotgun and a pack of hounds. Not quite an attractive face, with a few too many lines and seams, but his expression is both solemn and determined. Hair that is a little too brown to be natural, a faint hint of vanity that somehow makes his whole image more believable.

SEELE 02.

[1/2]

>>3695322

“Please. I don't use that name when I can help it,” he tells you, gesturing faintly, “My name is Gillian. Gillian Elrow.”

“Right. Like elbow,” you reply, immediately wincing at the stupid comment. Of all the dumb things to say, why did THAT come to the tip of your tongue. Elrow just laughs faintly, tugging slightly at one cuff. His suit is well-made but it looks oddly ancient, as if it has dirt and dust ground into it. It lends him a weary air, the sort that invites sympathy, and you caution yourself. Nothing these people do is random. He probably chose that suit with the idea that it would endear him to you, according to some personality model or... never mind.

He's just been staring at you, and you've just been staring at him. It wasn't THAT bad of a joke, was it?

“You know, I came here on something of a whim,” Elrow admits suddenly, “We have matters to discuss, I'm sure, but... I don't know where to start. Why don't we walk for a while, and see where that takes us?”

He gestures towards the door, and you find yourself following him out. His pace is deliberately unhurried, his manners carefully chosen. He probably wished it was raining, you muse, just so he could have presented you with his umbrella. “I met one of your old colleagues,” you announce, “Konstantin. He's not looking so healthy these days. He... told me some stuff about you guys.”

“Yes, I'm sure he did,” Elrow sighs, pausing to examine a manicured hedgerow, “I considered him a dear friend once, but I'm afraid that he's too far gone now. He's lost hope in mankind, in building a better future for us all. I haven't lost that hope, although I'll admit that there have been... moments... where it seems far away. Every man has his own set of burdens, and I'm no different. Tell me, though, what did he say to you?”

“He told me that you people caused Second Impact. That you knew what you were doing, and did it anyway,” you reply, your voice too low to be an accusation, “Was that true?”

“I could tell you no, and it would not strictly be a lie. A distortion of the truth, perhaps. We knew, in theory. There would be a vast release of energy, and explosion, and the entire planet would tremble. There would be casualties. That much, we knew,” he explains in a solemn voice, “But the true scale of it? That was beyond even our bleakest projections.”

“Half the world's population...” you muse, “Guess you forgot to carry the zero, huh?”

Elrow turns, and you see an ugly edge in his eyes – pain and irritation both. “Don't be flippant,” he scolds, “I regret every single death, but we have to make them mean something. If we give up now, everything that we have done will be for nothing. I can't allow that.”

>I know. We can't bring them back, but we can keep going for their sake
>How far would you go for that wish, though?
>All you've done is hurt people. You don't deserve to make the future
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3695371
>How far would you go for that wish, though?
That's a viscous cycle. Justifying what you do to make all the bad shit and death you caused have some meaning even if you end up causing more bad shit to happen. Ends justifying the means, etc.

>>3695371
>And how many more will be killed? How many born TO BE killed? I've seen enough about Karina and Juliet to know that it was tried at least once.

>>3695371
>I think... (Write in)
What are you all of you working towards, that all this could ever prove to be worth it, if all these deaths are ultimately just the means to an end. What end could possibly be worth all of this.

We should see if we can get more information before making a decisions about which side of the argument we fall on.

If that was how vague their instructions for Second impact were,I doubt that they know very much about the more involved parts of what is to come

>>3695371
>Other
Can you please elaborate in simple terms what does that 'better future for us all' entails? What kind of better future requires human sacrifice by its design? How does turning kids into liquid make sense for those who build that better future? If you're willing to do all that and then some more, does humanity remain human after all even if it is saved ten times over?

I've been trying to figure out who I am ever since I climbed into that... thing. If I go down that path with you all the way... will there be anyone left to call me a decent person? A human?

>>3695371
>>Other
Why did you guys cause Second Impact in the first place?

>>3695371
>Have you heard of the sunk cost fallacy? Because that justification you gave me is awful close. Maybe if I knew what you guys were actually working for I’d be more sympathetic, but so far after remembering my past it seems pretty horrid.

“How far would you go for that wish, though?” you counter, “You're just fuelling your own delusions with this promise of some... some paradise! I mean, where does it end? Where do you draw the line and decide that enough is enough?”

“This is not some endless war, Holly. This HAS an end. When the Lilim are defeated, and Konstantin's madness has come to an end, there will be peace. We're already working to ensure that. Not just peace, either, but prosperity for all of mankind,” Elrow explains, his hands deep in his pockets to keep him from gesturing, “Then, as you say, enough will be enough. It will be an end to this long and bloody struggle.”

“Or the start of a new one, waged with the weapons YOU created,” you point out, “You're not just ending lives – you're creating new ones, new lives, that exist just so you can end them. I know Juliet and Karina well enough to know what you've done.”

Elrow doesn't have an answer to this. He just exhales slowly, gazing up at the sky. “Do you not believe that after everything mankind has been through, he will seize a chance for peace?” he asks, “You think that men would spit in the face of the future, just out of spite?”

“I don't know,” you admit bluntly, “Because I don't know what this future would look like. I don't know what you're trying to build, because I can't imagine what kind of world would be worth dissolving children and butchering whole swathes of the population. Explain it to me. Please. Use simple words.”

Laughing, not at you but at the world in general, Elrow sits down on a low wall. “It's hard to know where to begin,” he concedes, “I suppose it all started with the discovery of the Akashic Record, as we came to call it. At the time, the world was rapidly spiralling out of control and nothing we could do would stop it. If anything, our efforts just seemed to make this worse. The Akashic Record held a map – the only thing we could understand at the time. The map, we theorised, would lead to a translation key. I'm not boring you, am I?”

Get to the point, old man. “No,” you assure him, “But I'm not sure how this is relevant.”

“The map derived from the Akashic Record led us to ground zero, the source of what would become Second Impact. Deep beneath the ice and water, we found a sealed... I still don't know what to call it. A chamber, sealed with an energy barrier unlike any we had ever seen before. Yet, we learned from it. Learned of a way to penetrate it... and that was Second Impact,” Elrow sighs, “It gave us what we wanted – a translation for the Akashic Record. All the secrets of the Adam and Lilith, as well as knowledge that opened up new frontiers of science. Clean energy, anomalous materials, theories beyond anything we held before. All the implements needed to build a utopia for all... but not until the Lilim threat has ended.”

“And for that, you did...” you gesture at yourself, “All of this.”

[1/2]

>>3695465

“I understand that you might find this hard to believe, but the Circle Eleven trials... they were never supposed to end like that. Why do you think we consider them a failure, that they've never been repeated?” the old man breathes, “You were never supposed to be harmed. The experiment was supposed to uplift all of you, to strengthen the bonds between you all. We... got it wrong. It was a mistake that we would not make again.”

“No, you just found another way of making disposable soldiers,” you shoot back, “Juliet? Karina?”

“Project BLUE EYE. The search for an artificial system capable of piloting an ADM Unit. Pure machines were futile, of course, but with the knowledge gained from the Akashic Record...” taking his hands from his pockets, Elrow spreads them wide, “You'll forgive me, but I'd rather not talk about this now. If anyone is to know, it should be the girls in question. It would be... unkind to talk about them like this.”

He's got a pretty weird set of standards, this one. Scowling, you lean back against the wall and regard him in silence. Perhaps he's just an excellent actor, but he seems... sincere. Remorseful, even. “I don't understand this,” you admit, “Ever since I climbed inside that thing, I've been trying to figure out exactly who I am. Who I was supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do. I'm worried that if I follow you down this path... would there be anyone left who could call me a decent person? Would I ever be able to see myself as a decent person?”

“Perhaps not. Do you think I look in the mirror and feel proud of the man looking back at me? No, there is little pride in this path. Duty, perhaps, but not pride,” Elrow pauses, considering something, “Do you think your friends would hate you for this?”

This time, you're the one to shrug. Saying nothing, you leave the conversation to wander wherever Elrow takes it.

“There is, I understand, a great many ways you could approach a monumental task like improving the world. I have always believed that technological progress is the best way forward. In that regard, I'm not so different from your father,” Elrow ventures, “He poured money into new innovations, intensive farming methods and protection from every kind of disaster. He was mocked for that, wasn't he?”

You nod. You've read about it, and even heard a few of the old man's stories – told to you when he was in an unusually talkative mood.

“I wrote him a letter once, you know,” Elrow adds, “Just a simple letter of gratitude. It might seem strange, but countless people might have starved if not for him. I wanted to show my appreciation. Of course, he never replied.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “He's terrible at that stuff,” you remark, “Replying to letters, remembering appointments, all of that stuff.”

“Don't worry,” the old man comments, giving you a casual gesture, “I didn't take it personally.”

[2/3]

>>3695524

“But you know, my old man... I don't think he ever wanted to feed the world or make it a better place, any of that,” you murmur, “He was just interested in all that technology stuff. Fascinated by it, really. He had all these toys, and he wanted to see what he could build with them. Making the world a better place never really came into it.”

“Does that matter?” Elrow counters, “For the people who went to bed with food in their stomachs, were his intentions important?”

“By that same logic, good intentions don't matter either,” you point out, “Just the end results. Like, you know, a devastated planet and a halved population.”

Elrow winces, but he doesn't try to argue the point. “Which is why we need to keep fighting for a better world, rather than just celebrating our “noble intentions”. And yes, I know – countless men have damned themselves by stating that the end justifies the means,” he concedes, “But I'm not trying to excuse my actions. I'm not even sure what I'm trying to do. Perhaps I just wanted to pass on my ideas and ideals while I still have the chance.”

“You're not getting any younger,” you joke. He smiles, but painfully. Seeing the pain on his face, you feel your smile fade away. “Hey,” you ask, changing the subject, “What's this I'm hearing about Germany cutting our funding?”

“Oh, that? Let them shout and blow smoke, it won't change anything,” Elrow remarks, “They'll make a public show of cutting all NERV funding. That money will vanish into some military black fund, at which point it will reach NERV anyway. We'll make sure of that.” This time, he DOES smile, and it makes him look inhuman – a reminder of the strings he can pull, and the power he can wield. Wielding it so casually, in this case.

“Uh huh. And what about my replacement?” you ask dubiously, “Are you making sure that happens, too?”

Slowly, Elrow's face freezes. “This is news to me,” he replies slowly, cautiously, “This hasn't been something we've discussed... something the others have discussed with me.” Pausing for a long moment, the old man smooths down his crumpled suit and brushes at some invisible spot of dirt. The very visible spots of dirt don't seem to concern him, though. “But, that's a problem for another time,” he states, very deliberately, “Are you telling me that you WANT to be replaced?”

>Hell no. I need to finish this, no matter what
>I need to break. I've not been doing so well lately
>I mean, it can't hurt to have a spare around, right?
>I want... (Write in)
>Other

>>3695579
>Other
"Not really, but the truth is I just learned my best friend has been dead for years and my mind was lying to me about it. I'm not doing so hot and my ADM took control without me even noticing before it was too late. Other times I noticed it and could fight back, but this time... it was like a switch was flipped. So I don't know. I want to keep fighting, but I might let Claudia lead the next few missions. Assuming I'm not just sacked outright."

>>3695579
>I mean, it can't hurt to have a spare around, right?

Besides when Fisher eventually turns up someone has to tell her about what is going on and what the stakes are.

If he didn't know about it i'm not sure there is anything he could do.

>>3695579
>Other
You know what, I think you've been the only one who wanted to hear what I want in a while. And was willing to listen to what I had to say about all of this, even briefly. To answer your question - I need to finish this, but all those mysteries, all those souls and AT fields stuff, the conspiracies, the murders, it sometimes just becomes too much. ADM just pulled the rug under me, I didn't see that one coming.

I won't quit, because there are literally aliens from outer space that want to destroy us. But you've got to stop making it much harder than it needs to be. We could use some help. Listening helps. Clarity helps. Knowledge helps a ton. And me? I just need to hear one damn "I'm sorry" for my dead friend. Just one.

>>3695579
>"No. I'm the best. Just the best. Anyone else will be a huge quality drop."

“These days, I don't know what I want,” you comment, allowing yourself a bitter smile, “Do I want to be replaced? Probably not, I guess, but it can't hurt to keep a spare around just in case, right? It's not like I'd be retiring or anything – they'd need someone to show the new girl the ropes, after all. It's just... yeah, telling the truth, I'm not doing so great. I feel like I'm losing my grip on things.”

“Things,” Elrow repeats.

“My ADM. When I lost control over it, it's like... I didn't have a chance to stop it. It was like this wave just washed over me, like a switch was flipped. Like a bunch of other stuff as well, but we can save the details for later,” you explain, “I guess it might have something to do with learning that my best friend is fucking dead. You think that might have something to do with it?” Biting your tongue before you say anything else you might regret, you shrug. “I don't want to lose my job. I'm pretty fucking good at it, after all. The best there is,” you conclude, “But maybe I shouldn't lead the next mission. Let Claudia do it.”

A bitter expression passes across Elrow's face, as if he just bit into something rotten. “We'll see,” he states simply, “It's getting late. You should head back to your room.”

That sounds like an order to you. “Wait a minute!” you call out, “I... it seems like you're the first guy in a long while who has asked what I want, and actually meant it. That's pretty important. I want to see this through, to get some answers, but right now that's now what's important. I just want to hear one person tell me that they're sorry for what happened to Claire.”

Elrow considers this for a moment, then nods solemnly. “Then I hope you take this with the sincerity it is offered with. I really AM sorry about everything that happened to her, and to you,” he tells you, “We've wronged you. We've wronged so many people. I just hope that in time, I can find some way to atone for even a fragment of the sins that we committed.”

Huh. You... weren't expecting him to actually say it.

This is awkward.

-

As you return upstairs, you wonder if Elrow really couldn't have known about your replacement. If he wasn't aware of it, does that mean that his “colleagues” are plotting things behind his back? That wouldn't be entirely surprising – these people seem like natural schemers, and they've already lost one member through their squabbles. Of all the moves to make, though, replacing you as Unit 02's pilot...

What's the point? What's the point of any of this?

[1/2]

>>3695711

You pause as you arrive at the rooms, watching as Yulia fumbles with a large box of twisted metal scrap and her room key. Disaster looms, and you hurry over to right the box before it can tip over. “Hold on there!” you cry, “Uh... give me the key, I'll get the door. God, did you leave anything in the scrapyard?”

“This is not scrap!” Yulia protests, “Well, perhaps yes, some of it may be. I will need to sort through, to separate good from bad. That is not so bad – it will be relaxing, I think.” Grunting softly as you open the door and hold it open for her, Yulia squeezes through and sets her burden down. “Ah, thank you,” she pants, shaking out a lacy handkerchief and delicately dabbing at her brow, “I have something, perhaps, that you may like. As thanks, yes?”

All you did was hold open a door.

“What is all this stuff anyway?” you ask, peering inside the box. It's a scary sight, with more than a dozen broken knife blades glaring back up at you. Aside from those, there are springs and dented metal plates, all different sizes and thicknesses. “So I'm guessing you're planning something,” you continue, “Gonna tell me what?”

“I went searching for a gift. Something that Fletcher would like. I could find nothing suitable, nothing broken that I could fix up. Then, I had an idea. I could take loose parts, scrap, and perhaps create something for him. Not just repairing an old and broken thing, but creating something entirely new... it is a strange thought for me,” Yulia admits, fearlessly delving into the box of sharp, rusty metal and emerging with an intact piece. A hunting knife, you guess, the blade folded away inside a horn grip. “I thought to give him this, at first,” she adds, “But it is useless. It looks old, yes?”

How the hell are you supposed to know? “I guess so,” you reply cautiously.

“But it is not. A fake, perhaps Chinese. There is a lot of that going around lately, it seems,” Yulia remarks, and you laugh, “But I cannot give him this. The steel is not so bad, and the blade is sharp. But it is still a fake, a fraud. It would make for a poor choice of a gift. You can have it, though, if you like.”

“Not good enough for him, but good enough for me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “Anyway, isn't there some saying about how if you get a knife, you have to use it? Some Russian thing. You know what I'm talking about, right?”

“A rifle. If a rifle appears, it must be fired. Chehkov. But he was talking about a story – a story should not have needless details,” Yulia sighs, “If there is no need for it, it should not be there.”

“But real life isn't so neat and tidy,” you point out.

“A good knife is a useful tool to keep around,” she concludes with a shrug, “I can make use of it, if you do not want it.”

>You'd better keep it. I don't trust myself with a knife
>Yeah, I'll take it. I'm sure it'll come in handy
>Other

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>>3695727
>Yeah, I'll take it. I'm sure it'll come in handy

>>3695727
>Yeah, I'll take it. I'm sure it'll come in handy
I'd say our self control is good enough to keep it handy

>>3695727
>Yeah, I'll take it. I'm sure it'll come in handy
I was actually considering writing in punching the guy, but that was too weak an option. Stabbing sounds much more permanent!

>>3695756
Which guy?

>>3695727
>Yeah I'll take it
Either this gets us out a jam somewhere down the line or we stab someone in a fit of Holly rage making everything worse. 50/50

>>3695727
>Yeah, I'll take it. I'm sure it'll come in handy

>>3695727
>"No thanks. I don't trust myself with a knife."

“Yeah, sure, I'll take that off your hands,” you tell Yulia with a nod, “I figure something like that could come in handy. You never know when you might need to... what would you do with a knife like this?”

“Clean a kill. Gut it, skin it, strip the meat from its bones. A hunting knife, yes?” Yulia tells you, holding the knife out for you. You take it, but she doesn't let go straight away. Keeping a tight grip on the weapon – the tool – she gives you a long, hard look. “But this is very dangerous,” she points out, “A fight is one thing. I saw plenty of fights growing up in the camp, and they were all the same. When a knife was drawn, they all changed. It crosses a line, and it is not so easy to cross back over.”

Holding her gaze for a moment more, you nod. “I know a thing or two about fights myself,” you remind her, “I'm not that tourist you thought I was.”

This does the trick, causing Yulia to look away with a tut of irritation. “You will not let me forget that, will you?” she complains, “Carve it onto my tombstone, if you really want.”

“Count on it,” you assure her, taking the knife from her loosening grip, “I'd use this to do it too, but I think a chisel would do a better job.” Stepping slightly back from her, you give the folded knife a closer look. Now that you know what it is, you can tell that the grip isn't horn or antler or anything like that – it's just plastic of some kind, a little too slick in the hand. A bit of grip tape should help with that. The blade itself is broad and heavy, easily capable of slashing and stabbing. As much as you try to think of it as a tool, it's hard to ignore the simple lethality it promises.

“I bet Fletcher has a whole collection of knives, anyway,” you add, glancing back up at Yulia, “One more wouldn't mean much to him. A handmade sculpture, on the other hand...”

“Yes!” Yulia agrees, snapping her fingers, “I was thinking, perhaps, of a helicopter. The rotors, I can make from these broken blades, and the rest of it... well, I can think on that later.” Nodding to herself, she starts to turn away as there is a firm knock on the door. Both glancing around, you share a moment of hesitation. “Yes?” Yulia asks at last, her voice slow and cautious, “What is the-”

Before she can finish that sentence, Fletcher throws the door open and looks about the room. “You're alone in here?” he asks sharply, ignoring Yulia as she tries to hide her scrap collection, “Just the two of you?”

“Uh, yeah?” you reply, “Why, what were you expecting?”

“Juliet. She isn't in her room,” the mercenary answers curtly, “We can't find her anywhere.”

Missing in action.

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

>>3695824
Thanks for running!

Did Monroe order Juliet to buy her some snacks?

>>3695824
Thanks for running!

I forgot to ask this, but would Elrow have known what the thing was in the middle of the Circle Eleven trials?

>>3695824
Thanks for running!
What's the state of ego for other pilots? Is it top notch or do they feel a bit weary, too?

>>3695834
Good guess. This calls for a thorough inspection of every cafe, cake shop and bakery we can find!

>>3695847
That does seem like something he might know, yes. But, that doesn't necessarily mean it's something he'd be willing or able to tell us. Some things are pretty hard to explain, you know?

>>3695888
Some are doing better than others, but everyone is starting to feel the pressure. Let's hope the summer festival can give everyone a chance to kick back and have fun!

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>>3695922
>Let's hope the summer festival can give everyone a chance to kick back and have fun!

>>3695727
>Moloch straight up teling us the knife will be important
You absolute madman.

Is Yulia into ham radio too?

File: HollyR.png (375 KB, 900x700)

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By night, most cities start to look the same. Berlin isn't so different to Avalon in a lot of regards. The street signs are in both English and German, the latter spelling out ugly words that you couldn't even hope to pronounce. When you stray into a gaudy part of town, neon signs hiss and buzz at you from shop windows – those are the same too, even if the words they spell out, and the services they might be offering, differ.

It's hot as hell tonight, the air thick and still. Stagnant air, somehow violent. It's the kind of night where you know, you just know, that something terrible is going to happen. Something terrible might already BE happening, just hidden away in the dark and secret places. Fletcher has his local help sweeping the streets as well, but your gut is telling you that they won't find her. Not if she doesn't want to be found.

But you can find her. You're sure about that, just as sure as if it has already happened. You could tell that Fletcher wasn't happy about it, but he didn't refuse when you and Yulia volunteered to join the search. In his suspicious look, you saw him imagining some secret shared between pilots. Any conspiracy that exists, it exists within his imagination alone, but you saw no need to correct him on that. Not if it convinced him to let you join the search.

Your phone buzzes urgently at you. As you reach into your pocket for it, your hand brushes against the folding knife. Another thing that Fletcher doesn't know about – he probably wouldn't approve. Knife aside, you find yourself wondering about the OTHER cheap Chinese imitation you've encountered lately. Huang, quarantined and isolated... what kind of life is that? Shaking off those thoughts, you answer the phone before the vibrating starts seeming angry.

“Ah, Holly, are you... still looking?” Karina begins, her voice tentative, “I might have something to help you. Juliet was in my room before, just for a little bit. We talked a little, but it wasn't about anything eventful. No, ah, the important part is the book. I bought a little tourist book, and Juliet was flicking through it. Well, I managed to find it, and she marked out a page. A memorial garden, I think she might have gone there.”

“Great,” you tell her, “Have you told Fletcher's people about this?”

“...Not yet,” Karina replies cautiously, “I thought that perhaps...” Whatever she thought, she keeps it to herself. On the other end of the phone, you hear a tiny rustle of cloth as she shrugs. “I'll give you the location,” she continues, “Do you have a map?”

Cradling your phone against your shoulder, you take out the flimsy tourist map and a pen. Ready for action.

[1/2]

>>3698289

As they should be, the memorial gardens are a quiet place. When you arrive, the noise of the city just seems to melt away, sinking into the cloying warmth of the air and leaving you within a bubble of... nothing. First intended to commemorate Second Impact, the Berlin incident gave the gardens a new purpose. The first Berlin incident, you bitterly correct yourself, they're going to have to start calling it that from now on. This isn't the only memorial site in the city, from what the tourist map claims, but this one was meant for... private individuals. Individuals with means, in other words.

They might have means, but they don't always have taste. The first monument you see is a large marble mermaid, her heaving bosom thrusting up towards the swollen, full moon. Flushing slightly, you look hastily away in search of something a little safer. Along one entire wall is a more dignified display, a scene depicting row upon row of solemn people marching towards some uncertain – but presumably brighter – future. Approaching, you crouch down and read the text carved into a long scroll at the bottom. Donated by the Elrow Foundation, apparently. Of course.

You're not sure about a brighter future, but Elrow and his buddies sure helped out the memorial business.

A faint murmur from behind you causes you to look around. A short distance away, sitting almost casually atop a needlessly ornate stone coffin, Juliet gazes up at the sky. Moonlight flows over her, and you see her lips moving ever so slightly in the light. Unsure if she's noticed you or not, you take a careful step closer. Loose gravel crunches underfoot, and her shoulders tense up. “Oh,” Juliet announces, “You found me.”

“I found you,” you agree, “Fletcher's looking for you. He's worried. Could be all manner of creeps and weirdos wandering about at night, y'know?”

“I just wanted some time alone,” Juliet replies, “To think.” She says this without looking around, waiting for a long moment before she sighs. You're still here, that sigh seems to say. “Do you know why I was brought along on this mission?” she asks, “There was the fear that Nebiros could contaminate one of your ADM Units. That it might take control of them. I was assigned to this mission so I could, if needed, destroy a compromised unit.”

“Oh,” you pause, “I assumed there was something like that. Monroe wouldn't have cleared a third unit if there wasn't a good-”

“I came out here to think about those orders,” Juliet interrupts, “I wasn't looking for company.”

She's made that quite clear, but Fletcher's security concerns were pretty clear too.

>You need to report this to Fletcher. His people can pick Juliet up
>If Juliet wants to be alone, that's fine with you
>You're not leaving Juliet alone, no matter what she says
>Other

>>3697988
>Fixing them, maybe. Why would you want to TALK with random people?

>>3698292
>If Juliet wants to be alone, that's fine with you
We should at least tell Fletcher that we found her, so he can call off the search but otherwise leave her alone.

>>3698301
>>3698292
Support

>>3698292
>If Juliet wants to be alone, that's fine with you
"You know where to find me if you want to talk. And don't be getting into fist fights with gang members while you're off soul searching. Take it from me."

>>3698292
>I'll tell Fletcher. Maybe he can set, like, a 1 kilometer perimeter on the place. That should be enough alone time, right?

>>3698292

>You aren't leaving.
>"Yeah well company was looking for you. You should have hidden better."

It takes you a moment. Watching Juliet on her perch, you suddenly realise – or remember – that this is a memorial garden. Not quite a cemetery, but close enough. Whatever the truth of it is, whatever really happened to her, she believes that her parents were killed in the first Berlin incident. If she wants to have some time alone here, the least you can do is respect that. If your positions were reversed, it's what you'd want too.

“Okay Juliet. I'm going back to the hotel,” you tell her calmly, holding your hands up, “Just be careful out here, okay? Don't go getting yourself in any trouble. No matter how tempting it might seem, don't go getting in any brawls. It won't really help.”

“I can take care of myself,” she says, lies perhaps. You linger for a few seconds more, just to see if that's really the end of it, and then Juliet finally looks around to you. “Would you let Fletcher know that I'm okay?” she asks, “Tell him that I'll be back soon. That's all you need to tell him.”

“Sure thing,” you assure her, “We can call off the search now. We were just worried, y'know?”

Looking faintly surprised by the whole concept. Juliet looks back up to the sky and allows herself a tiny smile.

-

Wandering away from the memorial garden, you take your phone out and punch in Fletcher's number. He answers on the first ring, before the tone has even finished. “I found Juliet,” you tell him quickly, vaguely, “She's fine. Just needed some time alone. She told me that she'll be back soon.”

“Where is she?” Fletcher presses. You hesitate, glancing down at your map before giving him a vague answer. Fletcher doesn't reply straight away, except to sigh. “That's not very specific,” he points out, “But I can have a car wait in the area. They'll be ready to move if any trouble arises, or to pick her up if she decides to call in. Did she seem... off?”

“Considering who we're talking about, not especially,” you answer, starting to say something else before you spot a flash of pink in the corner of your eye. “Okay, hanging up now,” you hurriedly add, “Talk later, chief.”

Fletcher protests, but you cut him off before he gets the words out. Dropping the phone in your pocket, you rush down the street and turn the corner. That flicker of pink was headed this way, vanishing down the street, but now you see nothing. Except there, just slipping away, you see her. Short hair, dyed pink. A heavy jacket, with deep pockets ideal for a spot of shoplifting. A quick, scurrying pace. All things that are so familiar, they feel like a part of yourself. Unable to stop yourself, like a drowning man clutching at a lifeline, you chase after the barely-seen girl.

This can't be real, you know that, but it seems so...

[1/2]

>>3698359

Thunder rumbles high above as you run through the streets, always one corner behind the retreating girl. The hot, cloying air seems to fight against you, slowing you down like a layer of molasses beneath your feet, but still you run. Shoving aside heavyset locals and pushing through impossibly tight crowds, you slowly gain on the girl. At one point, she almost seemed close enough to touch. Plunging around the final corner, you find yourself standing in a blind alcove, a dead end with no-one else in sight.

“No...” you breathe, “She was just here! She was-”

“Chasing phantoms. Chasing delusions. Just like your mother,” a sneering voice mocks, “No matter how far you run, you can never escape this curse.”

Slumping against the wall, you try to find a word of denial but nothing comes. “Why?” you murmur, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Why?” the voice repeats, “Because it amuses me. What other reason would I need?”

Weariness turns into anger with a flash, the kind of honest anger that you've been seeking for a long time. Drawing the knife, you snap it open with a flick of your finger and hold out the broad blade. “I'm sick of your bullshit!” you yell to the empty air, “Say that to my face, you son of a bitch! Don't just hide in the shadows and-”

“Holly?” The voice causes you to blink, slowly turning to see Yulia gazing cautiously at you from the mouth of the alley. “I heard shouting,” she continues, “Can I... come a little closer?”

Looking down, you realise that you're still holding the knife out ahead of you. Your mouth flaps senselessly as you try to speak, and you nearly cut your hand open trying to close the blade back up again. Yulia watches with uncertain eyes, clearly questioning her decision to offer you the knife. Yet, she doesn't demand it back or warn against you keeping it – she has, at least, that much faith in you. As you pocket the knife, you glance around again. No sign of your unseen nemesis, and definitely no sign of Claire. Which is as it should be, really, but it still leaves a hollow pain in your chest.

“I found Juliet. She just went out for a walk without telling anyone,” you mutter, pretending that everything is fine. Trying to, at least. The awkward silence is broken as your phone buzzes again. Yulia's does too, and you both fumble for them at the same time. It's a message from Fletcher, and you groan aloud as you read it. It's Karina – according to the message, she's had another seizure.

“Another one of them,” Yulia breathes, saying exactly what you're thinking, “Already?”

“Come on. We need to get back,” you bark, grabbing Yulia's arm and pulling her from the alleyway. Privately, secretly, you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

[2/3]

>>3698414

“Ah, it must be so lonely up there...” Karina mumbles, her recorded voice oddly childish, “Just the stars to keep you company. You're coming to join us, aren't you? But... I don't think you'll be welcome here.”

The recording ends with a click, and then silence descends. Glancing aside, you check on Karina as she sleeps peacefully nearby. You're used to hearing her predictions accompanied by screaming or crying, but this time they sounded almost... happy. Looking back to Fletcher, you search for something to say. “So wait,” you begin, “This thing is in SPACE?”

“That is the current theory, yes. We're still looking for confirmation on that,” Fletcher pauses, “We're still looking into a lot of things, actually. Suffice to say, moving your ADM Units into space is not currently an option. I've informed Commander Monroe, and she says that she's working on a solution now.” He laughs here, although there isn't much humour in it. “She must be confident, too. She said she'd have one ready for us by the time we get back to Avalon,” he adds, “The new plan is to leave in the morning, so she's going to need to work fast.”

The door opens, and a bland faced man peers in. “Moore is back in her room now,” he explains, “She said she was tired. She wanted to sleep.”

“Good,” Fletcher mutters, too distracted to pay the man much heed. The door closes again, and the silence returns for a moment.

“So...” you begin, “Space? Really?” With a helpless grunt, Fletcher shrugs as if to ask what you're expecting him to do about it. Maybe you're asking too much, but you'd like a little more to go on. “Well, I guess we'll just have to see what Monroe cooks up,” you sigh, “Until then, what do we do?”

“Standard protocol. We keep a low profile, and we stay ready to move when we're given the order,” Fletcher answers, “What do YOU want to do?”

That's a vague question, if ever you heard one. What kind of answer is he expecting, exactly?

>I'm going to go keep a low profile in bed. See you in the morning
>I've got some plans... (write in)
>Other

>>3698438
>I'm going to go keep a low profile in bed. See you in the morning

>>3698438
>I'm going to go keep a low profile in bed. See you in the morning

Can't really think of anything.

>>3698438
>I want to talk about the voice in my head.
>Lilim, some craziness from Claire, some craziness from Nate, astral fucker mcdouche, same brain problems as my mom, heck it could be ALL of them!

>>3698438
>I'm going to go keep a low profile in bed. See you in the morning

We're too crazy to talk about our craziness.

Also the Lilim is just approaching from space right? If it's that high up it won't be able to do anything on earth, unless it has the orbital bombardment technique.

>>3698438
>I've got some plans... (write in)
Hand over the Business card with Adrian's message on it to Fletcher, that at very least should be brought to his attention.

Then go to bed.

“I guess I'll go and keep a low profile in bed. Get some sleep before... I dunno, before Monroe sticks me in a fucking NASA rocket or something,” you decide, yawning softly to yourself. Even so, you find yourself lingering. “Hey, Fletcher?” you ask slowly, unsure of how to say this, “You ever like... hear a voice telling you stuff that you don't want to hear? Or telling you anything, I guess.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fletcher thinks to himself for a moment. You're about to leave when he speaks up. “Once,” he admits, “I was fighting. It was a bad spot, and I didn't see a way out. Enemies coming from all sides, and I was running low on ammo. There was a lull in the fighting, and that's when I heard it – a mocking kind of voice, telling me that I was going to die. A pretty natural thought to have, under the circumstances, but it felt... alien. It didn't feel like I was talking to myself.”

Exactly how it seems for you. “But you didn't die there,” you point out, “You got out.”

“Can't even remember it. When the last attack came, I just... switched off,” Fletcher concludes, “The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a field hospital. At some point, I took a round to the side and that put me out of action for a while. Just when I was getting back on my feet, I met a man from head office and – to cut a long story short – his job led me here. But to answer your original question... I think we've heard the same thing. Was that all?”

Again, you start to leave. Then, taking Adrian's card out of your pocket and smoothing it out, you place the handwritten note down in front of Fletcher. Only then do you allow yourself to leave.

-

You don't exactly sleep much that night. You drift, instead, always on the edge of a deep sleep but never quite tipping over. It's too humid to really sleep, the oppressive air pairing with the unfamiliar surroundings to keep you from ever really relaxing. The sooner you're back home, the better. At least you might have a chance to sleep on the flight home. Anything to pass the time, really.

Aboard the Colossus, Fletcher sets a glossy photograph in front of you, face down. Staring at it as if it was a dirty rag, you look up and give him a questioning look. “I'm going to regret looking at this,” you guess, “Aren't I?”

“Not at all,” he assure you, “You might even find it interesting.”

Grumbling softly to yourself, you turn the photograph over. It's terrible quality, grainy and blurry, depicting what looks like an old statue of an angel. A warrior angel, with a long lance in one hand and a shield in the other. White wings spread out behind it, while regal armour covers the human parts of its body. “It's cool, I guess,” you tell him, “Something you saw in a Berlin museum or what?”

“Look again,” Fletcher urges you, tapping the background, “Don't you see the stars?”

The Lilim?

[1/2]

>>3698438
>Other
What can you tell me about Elrow? You have to know about the guy.

>>3698483
>Attacked by a literal angel
Are we the baddies?

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>>3698495
Well, of course. Just listen to this guy, he gonna tell you everything that's wrong with you. Free of charge, too!

>>3698495
It also may have found / retrieved the other Lance, the one that was lost during First Impact. Assuming of course that that still happened the way it did I wonder where it found it.

>>3698483

“The Lilim Belial. High power telescopes captured this image last night, not all that long after you went to bed. We've been tracking it ever since. It's hard to be certain, but if nothing changes it's likely to enter Earth's orbit within three to seven days. We're still trying to analyse its capabilities, but a preliminary inspection suggests that it has an incredibly powerful AT Field,” Fletcher pauses, “I hope the Commander has a good plan for this.”

“Well, at least we don't need to worry about it stabbing us,” you suggest, “That lance isn't THAT long.”

“We'll see,” Fletcher mutters, taking the photograph from you and passing it along to Yulia. She feigns a frown as she examines it, gesturing to the seat beside her so he can sit and explain things properly. As she leans in, you turn away and meet Juliet's eyes, grinning to her. She just returns your gaze with a blank lack of comprehension, so you turn away again.

She's no fun.

-

At some point, Yulia either falls asleep or pretends to, leaning against Fletcher's shoulder. Grimacing slightly, he lifts her head with extravagant care and slips out from his seat, striding away. You follow, raising a hand to quietly get his attention. “Hey chief, got a question for you,” you whisper to him, “What do you know about Elrow? Or, uh, SEELE 02. Did he ever give you his name?”

“Never. Elrow, is it?” Fletcher muses, “Like elbow.”

“I know, right!” you agree, wincing at the sound of your voice and glancing around at Yulia. She fidgets, scowling slightly, but doesn't wake. “It seems like you know him, though,” you continue, “What's he like?”

“Out of all of those four, he's the one that I genuinely trust. The others, less so. If it wasn't for the Lilim, I wouldn't trust them at all. Isn't it convenient to have a common enemy?” Fletcher smiles humourlessly, “But 02... but Elrow isn't perfect. I wouldn't call him naive, but he can be overly optimistic. He believes that he can solve every problem with enough innovation and scientific progress, but that ignores the human factor. You can build a perfect world, but there will always be hateful, violent people. He doesn't have a plan for dealing with THEM.”

“But his whole speech about making all those sacrifices worth it...” you begin, “What about that?”

“I think he believes it,” Fletcher agrees, “But I also think he's been very isolated from those losses. He understands them very differently to the people on the ground, the people who've felt the impact of his actions. Maybe he's only capable of envisioning that bright future because he hasn't tasted loss. He's almost... innocent.”

“Innocent?” you repeat, “Really?”

“Okay, that might be stretching it,” the mercenary admits, “Does that answer your questions?”

>Yeah, that's it
>Not all of them... (Write in)
>Other

>>3698545
>Not all of them... (Write in)
Do you know anything about the other SEELEs?

>>3698545
>Did I ever get to mention what it was like when the ADM awakened?

>>3698545
>Not all of them... (Write in)
If Temple has a Temple and the Garden had a Garden why is Avalon called Avalon.
Belial (also Belhor, Baalial, Beliar, Beliall, Beliel) is listed as the sixty-eighth spirit of The Lesser Key of Solomon. He is a King of Hell with 80 legions of demons, and 50 legions of spirits, under his command. He was created as the first, after Lucifer.[6] He has the power to distribute senatorships and gives excellent familiars. He must be presented with offerings, sacrifices and gifts, or else he will not give true answers to demands.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_demons_in_the_Ars_Goetia

Avalon (/ˈævəˌlɒn/; Latin: Insula Avallonis, Welsh: Ynys Afallon, Ynys Afallach; literally meaning "the isle of fruit [or apple] trees"), sometimes written Avallon or Avilion, is a legendary island featured in the Arthurian legend. It first appears in Geoffrey of Monmouth's 1136 pseudo-historical account Historia Regum Britanniae ("The History of the Kings of Britain") as the place where King Arthur's sword Excalibur was forged and later where Arthur was taken to recover from his wounds after the Battle of Camlann. Avalon was associated from an early date with mystical practices and figures such as Morgan le Fay. It is traditionally identified as the former island of Glastonbury Tor.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avalon

>>3698545
>"Hear anything about Monroe's plan to fight this latest Lilim?"

>>3698545
>Not all of them... (Write in)
Why don't you trust the rest of them? What do you know of their motives?

“Not really,” you remark, glancing at the clock on your phone, “You're not in a rush to go anywhere, are you?”

“I can't wait to land, but wishes won't make this tub fly any faster,” Fletcher replies, smiling faintly to himself, “If you've got questions, go ahead and ask.”

“The other members of SEELE,” you ask pointedly, “What do you know about them?”

“Not as much. Elrow is less secretive than they are, a little more willing to share information... as perhaps you've seen. I don't like 01 and 03 nearly as much. This... friction between NERV and the UN is down to their influence, I'm sure of it. They're concerned about what we might do if we weren't kept busy with petty squabbles,” Fletcher muses, “And 04 is running their own game, no doubt about it. I just don't know what it is. I know that 04 played a big role in initiating Second Impact, but they took a short retirement afterwards. They mentioned it once.”

“04 said that they wanted to study the world they had created. They went home – which meant the US, apparently – and joined one of the “free cities”. Ask your history teacher for the full story there, but they were essentially secessionists. Wanted to build their own independent societies, without the larger US getting in their way. Less mouths for the government to feed, so they were largely left alone at first. 04 told me about how their city failed, devolving into a constant series of revolts and civil wars,” he continues, “They had the freedom they wanted, and they descended into chaos.”

“So what happened?” you ask, “After that, I mean.”

“04 returned to head office. Pulled a few strings,” Fletcher concludes with a shrug, “A few weeks later, the army rolled into the city and imposed order. Violently. That should tell you something about 04, I think.”

It tells you plenty about 04. It's just that none of it is good.

-

“I've been wondering about Avalon,” you think aloud as you gaze out the window, watching the ocean soar past, “Why is it called... that? There was a garden at the Garden, and Temple sounds kinda... yeah, so what gave Avalon its name?”

Fletcher frowns at this, the question taking him by surprise. “I'm not sure,” he admits at last, “I never heard a clear answer for that one myself. The most I got was a passing comment – they found something there, apparently, and that's what gave them the name. Back then, I couldn't afford to waste time on idle questions, so that was the end of the matter. Do you know what Avalon means?”

“Uh...” you shrug, “It's some English thing, right? I'll ask Claudia when we get back, she probably knows. She'll just love the chance to show off how much she knows, too, so... maybe I should just check the internet instead.”

“Probably for the best,” he agrees solemnly.

[1/2]

>>3698586

A number of cars are waiting for you when the Colossus lands back in Avalon, with Commander Monroe accompanying them. Considering that a giant space angel is about to crap all over you, she looks surprisingly cheerful. Actual, genuine cheer, not her saccharine attempts at optimism. Maybe she really DOES have a plan for this. As the Colossus cools down, getting ready to let you out, you glance aside to Fletcher. “Heard anything?” you ask him, gesturing down to Monroe, “She looks pretty confident.”

“She does, doesn't she?” he muses, “I got a message from her, but she wasn't sharing any details. Just gloating about how much I'm going to like this idea of hers.”

“Now I'm really curious,” you mutter.

-

“While you guys were enjoying your holiday, I've been pouring through old military records. I've got a pretty good memory for work stuff, you know, and I knew I'd seen something that could help us here. It just took me a while to dig out the records,” Monroe gloats, steering the car with one hand, her other arm casually thrown over the back of her seat, “Conventional weapons are out. They just don't have the range. We can't send you up either. Ingrid said that she had an idea of her own, and that sentence just fills me with dread, so I told her to keep that on the back burner for now.”

“Good call,” Fletcher agrees, “Now get to the point.”

“Railguns!” Monroe cries out, “Theoretically capable of firing a projectile into Earth's orbit. NASA was even looking into using them as a way of delivering supplies to space missions, but it's not exactly a delicate journey. I even had a buddy run the numbers for me, and he thinks it could be done.”

Her excitement is palpable, but you're still cautious. “I don't mean to kill the vibe here, but we're on a time limit,” you point out, “Are you suggesting we build a railgun within three days, seven at the most?”

“That's the best thing, we don't NEED to build one!” the commander declares, “The US Navy already has several working prototypes that would fit our needs. We just need to ask nicely, and maybe remind them that we're saving the world. How could they refuse?”

Now she's just tempting fate. “So the current plan is to sit down here with a massive gun and just shoot the thing?” you ask, “I'm no expert, but this sounds way too simple.”

“Gosh Holly, you're in a very negative mood this morning. Bad flight?” Monroe tuts, “I'm not saying that it's going to be easy, but all our theoretical models are working out in our favour. We're going to have Karina working around the clock to get as many details on the target as possible, and I'm already reaching out to some old friends in the navy. The early signs are all looking pretty good.”

>You're right. We should be thinking positive... for once
>I don't think you're taking this seriously, chief
>Did you say Bergmann had an idea? What was it?
>I'm curious... (Write in)
>Other

>>3698704
Ah, the scene that is mandatory for every NGE-derived piece of fiction - shooting the enormous cannon!
>Did you say Bergmann had an idea? What was it?
>Maybe we could combine both ideas?

>>3698704
>I'm curious... (Write in)
What would the projectile consist of as you said yourself conventional weaponry is out.
Unless of course she is actually talking about a mass driver, and the ADM's are going to be loaded up to fight Belial in space somehow.

>>3698704
>>I'm curious... (Write in)
Can the railgun penetrate the AT field?

File: sufficient_firepower.jpg (1.14 MB, 1920x1080)

1.14 MB JPG

>>3698704
>I'm curious... (Write in)
What about its AT field then? You have something to pierce it as well? You sure it just won't catch the slug and send it back to sender?

>Did you say Bergmann had an idea? What was it?
Did she have anything to say about why the Lilim has this form instead of usual Lovecraftian variety?

>>3698717
Hopefully the cannon is enormous enough.

>>3698704
>"Railguns. Fuck yeah."

“I'm curious about a few things,” you begin, “What kind of projectile are we talking about here? Like a giant bullet or what?”

“That's the general idea, yes. The boys at the lab are working on something that won't totally melt or disintegrate under the force of firing, but progress on that is moving quickly. If my understanding is correct, we won't need to worry about a suitable explosive payload,” Monroe explains, “Just the energy delivery alone should be enough to crack the Lilim open like a peanut!”

You'll have to take her word for that. “It's just, you said that conventional weapons are out of the question,” you point out, “I guess a gun like this isn't really what I'd call “conventional”, but still... Fletcher said that this Lilim has an extremely strong AT Field, too, so it's like a double problem.”

“That IS a wrinkle in my plan,” Monroe admits, waving happily to another driver as you turn into HQ, “But Ingrid seems to think that synching your ADM Unit up with the cannon itself will provide the appropriate punch to pierce an AT Field. The same would apply to a conventional missile or rocket, but those might not have the range or the velocity needed to make a hit on the Lilim. I'll admit, I might be getting a few of the tiny little details mixed up, but on a more broad strokes level... we should be good to go.”

“What about Bergmann's plan?” you ask, “Did she explain what it was?”

“Jeez, have a little confidence in me!” Monroe laughs, “She didn't go into too much detail, but she suggested attacking the Lilim indirectly. An intrusion attempt, she said. They can do it to us, so why can't we do it to them?”

“...That's the craziest thing I've heard all week,” you state bluntly, “And she really thinks that could work?” Monroe shrugs, steering the car onto the cargo elevator and killing the engine. “I was thinking of combining our ideas, but now I'm not so sure,” you continue, getting out of the car and stretching out your legs, “Attacking the Lilim like that... that sounds like it be a death sentence. For us, I mean.”

“You'd really have to ask her about that. She seemed confident, but...” Monroe pauses, giving you a more gentle look, “I can ask her for you, if you don't want to speak with her. I'll understand if you don't want to see her, after everything that happened, but you can't avoid her forever. We still need to run our routine tests, all of that business, but I can have a word with her. Make sure she keeps it strictly business from now on.”

Shrugging, you leave that matter hanging. For all her sins and insane ideas, Bergmann is... she might still be useful. Necessary, even.

In a sort of “deal with the devil” kind of way.

[1/2]

>>3698811

“Oh yeah, have you seen the picture?” you ask, causing Monroe to pause and look around, “Kind weird how this Lilim looks... almost normal. All the rest have been super fucked up, but this thing looks like humans might have built it.”

“I'm wondering that myself, actually. We don't really understand why the Lilim choose the forms they take, or even if they have any choice in the matter at all. Some of them have shown the ability to change their form, too, which just raises further questions,” she sighs, “Maybe this one took a form we would recognise as a kind of... intimidation tactic? Trying to play upon our fear of divine retribution. An angel descending from the heavens to strike at us sinners... it's almost poetic.”

Smiling at her own words, Monroe leans back against the side of her car and taps a finger against her chin. “By the way,” you ask carefully, choosing your words with care, “About my replacement...”

“Oh,” Monroe pauses, shaking her head after a tiny pause, “That's on hold. We'll save this conversation until the Lilim is done.”

A stay of execution, then. Or a flaw in your escape attempt. Right now, it seems like a little bit of both.

-

Juliet lags behind as you head back to the dorm, glancing about the corridors with a blank-eyed curiosity. Your short trip to Germany seems to have dulled her memories of this place, but perhaps this is just normal for her. When most of your memories seem about as real as a paper moon, it can't take much to shake up even the real ones. She sets her bag down in the dorm, the thud causing Kaori to emerge from her room. For a long moment, your eyes meet.

“Good work in Germany,” she tells you, voice flat. She could be utterly sincere or cruelly mocking, and her voice wouldn't sound even a little bit different. Then, something inside her shifts gears, and a tiny smile appears at the corner of her mouth. “I'm glad you came back in one piece,” she adds, and this time you know she's being sincere – it's because she flees back into her room as soon as she's said it.

Still burdened down by her box of scrap metal, Yulia brushes past you and pushes into her room. Her door swings shut behind her, leaving you alone with Juliet. Running her hands across the sparkling clean surface of the table – Hester has clearly been as busy as usual – Juliet sits and stares at the far wall. “Uh...” you begin, “Are you feeling okay?”

Juliet turns, her face carrying only the faintest facsimile of life and vitality. “Just tired,” she explains, “The flight.”

“...Right,” you mutter, not bothering to hide your dubious tone.

>Going to close things here for today. NERV: Second Daughter will continue tomorrow, same usual time
>Thank you for your contributions today!

>>3698940
Thanks for running!

Maybe if we find a really big railgun we can shoot one of the ADM units into space? We'd just need a way to survive reentry. A big parachute? I'm a genius. Hire me instead of Bergmann.

>>3698940
Thanks for running!

>>3698704
>The US Navy already has several working prototypes that would fit our needs.
The Navy has been messing with railguns for years, but what limited successes they've had are at least an order of magnitude less than the sort of power you'd need to get a projectile into space. I assume they've continued working on them over time, but even beefy naval guns aren't anywhere close to STO capable.

Presumably Monroe isn't pulling this idea from nowhere though, so I assume she's got some reason to think this is doable.

Personally, I'd put better odds on lasers being workable. They're hideously expensive to fire even once, but the airforce does have functional lasers that can intercept targets from a few hundred miles away. Non-visible, but oh well. Presumably with a little work they could be turned skyward.


It's also worth telling any nuclear-armed nation about what's going in up there. When this thing comes down to ground level in response to the attack, anyone that doesn't know what's going on is going to think it's a preemptive strike.

File: ClaudiaR.png (286 KB, 900x700)

286 KB PNG

It's a strange position to be in, knowing that Belial is continuing their descending towards the Earth with every passing second, but being unable to do a thing about it. Monroe is working on her contacts, Karina is spending long hours meditating on the Lilim's capabilities, and you're... going to school. Even doing your very best to push the whole situation into the back of your mind, you can barely focus on your classes. Every voice blurs into a meaningless hum, and every face starts to look the same.

Is this what life would be like if you were replaced as Unit 02's pilot? Is this what it would be like, being kicked back to normal life?

Lunch finds you sitting on the roof, shielding your eyes against the sun and gazing up into the sky. How close does Belial need to get before it will be visible with the naked eye? You might know the answer to that if you were paying attention in class, but they don't really teach you about space aliens. No matter how big it is, Belial can't be bigger than the moon. Therefore, with flawless logic, it needs to be closer than the moon before you can see it.

“You see that, Claire?” you announce to the empty air, “I'm a fucking genius!”

“Oh, and we're all very impressed,” a syrupy sweet voice replies. Jolting around, you see Claudia leaning against the door, scrutinising her neatly trimmed fingernails and smiling smugly to herself. Flushed red at being caught like this, you march over and jab a finger into the soft flesh of her chest. Before you can spit an insult at her, though, Claudia grabs your hand and shoves it away from her. “At least take me out for dinner first,” she scolds, “Besides, don't you want to hear the news I have?”

You probably need to hear it, which is good enough. Reluctantly, you nod. Taking her own sweet time about it, Claudia strolls over to the fence surrounding the room and leans against it, entwining her fingers with the metal mesh. “It's an update from HQ. Guess what, this job isn't going to be as easy as Monroe thought,” the heiress explains, “The Lilim's AT Field is simply too strong. Even at our most optimistic projections, we just can't pierce it.”

“Fuck,” you grunt, “So what's the new plan?”

“Well, that's the thing,” Claudia remarks, turning to grin at you, “To achieve that level of protection, it needs to focus its AT Field in a specific direction. I don't recall the exact figure, but it can cover... oh, about a 90 degree arc at any one time. You're going to love this next part – we've got a new plan to take this into account. Can you guess what it is?”

“Uh...” you reply with a shrug, doing the calculations in your head, “We shoot the bastard in the back?”

“Top of the class!” Claudia calls out, clapping politely.

[1/3]

>>3701434

Of course, it's not really that simple. You'll need two ADM Units equipped with the specially modified railguns, positioned a significant distance apart and firing almost simultaneously. The first shot, a diversion to bring Belial's shield around in one direction. The second shot, fired off a split second later, to hit it in the exposed flank. If more than one shot is needed... you'll be in trouble. A lot of trouble.

HQ is a hive of activity when you arrive back, although very little seems to be getting done. Mostly, it just seems to be clerks rushing back and forth with armloads of paper. There's a surprising amount of paperwork that goes into a job like this, you're realising, and not all of it is entirely logical.

“You mean we need authorisation to launch an object into space, even if we're shooting an alien monster?” Monroe rages, “What kind of operation do they think we're running here? I don't care about international treaties, just get it done!” Slamming the phone down, she turns and gives you a cheery wave. “Holly!” she calls out, “We're making progress!”

“So I can hear,” you reply, a little bemused by her good cheer, “I heard about the plans for a second gun. Is that something we can arrange?”

“Oh yes, that's not going to be a problem. The navy has given us full access to their arsenal, and they were quick about it. No long wait, no approval process, just a quick confirmation. Strings are being pulled on our behalf, I think,” she smiles, “Did you know that the President is a big fan of what we're doing here? Well, he barely understands what we're doing here, but he sees Americans piloting big stompy robots and he just LOVES it.”

It's strangely satisfying to know that you've got a fan in the oval office, even if it's for... rather childish reasons.

“Kaori is going to be in charge of one half of this mission. I hope she's not too worried about it. This'll be the first time she's taken the lead on an operation since Berlin, and...” Mornoe pauses, her mouth tightening slightly, “Well, she volunteered for this so she must feel like she's ready... or she just wants to geek out over military stuff. She's shipping out tonight, flying to a US Navy group in the gulf. There's a railgun already in place there, and it gives us the angle we need to make a shot on Belial. The second shot is going to be more local, but we're still scouting out an appropriate clearing for it. These guns can be pretty, uh, pretty wild when they go off. We don't want to be causing any noise complaints, do we?”

It sounds, to your vague amazement, like everything is under control. “So... cool, I guess,” you reply, “What do you want me to do?”

“Just take the day off,” Monroe suggests with a shrug, “Relax a little. In fact, consider that an order.”

[2/3]

>>3701439

“So what happened in Germany?” Claudia asks coyly, “Specifically, with regards to Juliet. The rest... well, I do watch the news, I don't need an explanation for any of that.”

Looking up from the pool table, distracted by the taunting question, you lean on your cue and think. “Juliet?” you reply, “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, she just doesn't seem like her usual cheerful self,” Claudia explains, “I wondered if you had a little falling out. A lovers' quarrel, maybe?”

“Why? Looking to try and score on the rebound?” you shoot back, setting the pool cue aside with a disgusted sigh. “Look, she thinks her parents died in that city. They really might have died in that city, I'm not sure one way or the other. She was basically grieving,” you continue, “Cut her some slack, okay?” Claudia just shrugs to this, and you turn away in irritation. You're supposed to be relaxing, and there's no way you'll do that with her around.

Skulking back into your room, you lie back in bed and let out a low sigh. Claudia isn't really the problem – you're just restless, knowing that Belial is steadily drawing closer. Seeking distraction, you roll over and pick up your NiPad. It's been a while since you checked it, and once you dig through the layers of file folders to find Labyrinth, you see new messages waiting for you. Dated a few days ago, you realise, slightly before you left for Germany.

Phantom: My employer wants to speak with you again. He's looking to make a trade.
Phantom: Information for information. He very much wants to hear about Karina.
Phantom: Like I said, we're willing to trade facts. Call me, we can arrange something

Hurriedly closing your tablet, you look over your shoulder as irrational fear stabs at you. That's exactly the sort of conspiratorial shit that you wouldn't want someone to read over your shoulder. A trade? Information on Karina? This whole thing has a real bad vibe about it.

Relax a little, Monroe said, take the day off. As if. So what the hell are you supposed to do now?

>Kaori flies out tonight. Maybe you can catch her before she leaves
>You'll need to see Bergmann sooner or later. Might as well get it over with
>Maybe NIHIL's information is worth taking the risk. You'll set up a meeting and see
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other

>>3701443
>Kaori flies out tonight. Maybe you can catch her before she leaves
>Tell Phantom they aren't getting a deal unless they can give us some idea about the information they are offering to see if it's worth it.

>>3701443
>There's something else... (Write in)
Go see Monroe and tell her about what we learned of Blue Eye from Gillian.

>>3701443
>You'll need to see Bergmann sooner or later. Might as well get it over with
Maybe she can spill some light on what exactly AT field technology can bring to 'better future'. But without mentioning Elrow directly. Maybe she can tell about SEELE 01 and 04 goals more.

>There's something else... (Write in)
I assume Fletcher can start trying to dox the rest of SEELE. We have one public identity of Elrow and the name of SEELE 05. There must be some overlap in known public connections, especially when Bergmann and Matheson are thrown in the mix.

But this can wait until we see him later.

>>3701443
>>Kaori flies out tonight. Maybe you can catch her before she leaves
We're not a slick enough operator to come out on top of any information exchange.

>>3701470
Something we may also want to ask Fletcher what he thinks Bergmann's reaction to the confirmation of the involvement of Nebiros in her Husbands disappearance and ultimately hid death; and possibility of her daughter's survival, as he has known her the longest and should have the best idea of the impact of her learning of this; although we may also want to ask Monroe's opinion of this as she did follow up the report for Bergmann.

>>3701490
>and possibility of her daughter's survival,
Where was that stated? I know we only saw the dad's memories, but that doesn't prove the absence of the daughter in the Lilim. There was a lot of people in that thing that we didn't see.

>>3701493
That's why i said the possibility of her surviving, as her not appearing to us means that we have no confirmation either way and regardless of how unlikely it s to occur it is still possible that she may still be alive, and I think that that would be one of the logical follow up questions that she may ask.

Rubbing your eyes, you try to impose some order onto your scattered thoughts. Kaori leaves tonight, you recall, to take up her part of the mission. You could try and catch her before she leaves, that would probably count as taking the day off. Easier said than done, though, as you're not quite sure where she is. If she's in her room, that's fine, but where else? The target range, perhaps, or the gymnasium. Or, you remind yourself, you could just ask Monroe.

Probably the easiest way to make progress. First, though...

HLLY06: I'm not agreeing to anything.
HLLY06: But what information are you offering?
Phantom: What do you want to know?
Phantom: To begin with, we have your file. You've been wanting to see that for some time, haven't you?

“Answering so quickly? God, get a life...” you mutter, scowling at the screen. It's almost amusing. Your file? That's old news by now, but clearly NIHIL are behind the times. Tapping your finger against the tablet's screen as you think, you watch a new message pop up.

Phantom: But my employer knows a great deal more than that. He can tell you about SEELE.
Phantom: Their goals, their plans, everything.
Phantom: Call me. I want to see you again.

These last words cause you to hesitate, pausing before you can rattle out the next message. Emotional manipulation, that's all it is, but it still comes worryingly close to working. Screwing your face up in a tight grimace, you switch off the tablet and drop it back into your jacket pocket. Leave that for now, you tell yourself, let Coraline sweat for a while as she waits for a call that might never come. For now, you've got work to do.

-

Even before the door is fully open, you can hear the soft snoring coming from inside Monroe's office. Peering inside, you watch the woman stir a little from her slumped posture, her upper body sprawled out across the desk. You almost leave her be, but then she rouses herself and sits sluggishly up. “I'm awake, I'm awake...” she mumbles, “Holly?”

“Uh, I was wondering where Kaori was,” you begin, “Is she here today?”

“Oh, um, no. No, she said she wanted to go out today. Clear her head,” Monroe rubs her eyes, fumbling for a scrap of paper, “She was going to, uh... right, the New Avalon Mall. It's on the edge of town. Do you know it?”

Only vaguely, but you nod anyway. Before you leave, you recall your conversation with Elrow. “I learned a few things in Berlin,” you begin cautiously, “About BLUE EYE.” That gets her attention, causing Monroe to sit up much straighter. She fumbles for a cup of cold coffee, retching a little as she grimly chugs it down. Woken more from the bitter taste than the caffeine, she nods for you to continue. “There was a mention of artificial pilots,” you continue, “But not machines. They were specifically called “the girls”. I think... it sounds so crazy, but-”

[1/2]

>>3701504

“Artificial humans. Mass produced to fit a specific purpose,” Monroe finishes for you, “I wish I could deny it, but I think you might be right. I can only assume that BLUE EYE isn't ready yet, or you'd be replaced already. Maybe these artificial pilots don't work, or they need time to grow, or... there could be any number of reasons.” Glancing remorsefully at the now empty coffee cup, she sighs. “You know, when I told you to do a little spying, I wasn't being serious,” she scolds, “But thank you, anyway.”

You nod, lingering for a moment more. “New Avalon Mall,” you mutter, nodding again, “I'll go and make sure Kaori is having fun.” Leaving, you head next door and check on Fletcher. He's not sleeping like Monroe was, but you get the feeling that he was resting just as much. His face has a stillness to it, like carven stone, and the coldness remains even after he's looked around to you. “Uh, hey,” you begin, “I wondered if you could do me a favour...”

“Nothing illegal, immoral or insane,” he replies, “But that aside, what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could track down the other members of SEELE. I mean, we know about Elrow and Konstantin, that's two names. If we look at like, social groups and connections, maybe we can guess about who the others are,” you explain, “You know, it can't be a huge pool of names to choose from. They gotta be like, rich and powerful.”

“That may fall under “immoral”. Illegal too, depending on how hard I looked,” Fletcher remarks, “But, luckily for you, I'm just as curious. From what I was told – and I believed it – most members of SEELE hide their real identities from each other. Secretive, even to each other. Trust has always been in short supply. Still, as you say, I should be able to narrow down the list and make a few educated guesses. These things won't happen quickly, though, and I'll need to be thorough.”

“Yeah, I get you,” you agree, hesitating for a moment before adding, “Nebiros. About... the people it killed. I think I saw some of their thoughts, their memories. It absorbed them, or something like that. I saw...” Trailing off here, you wait – and hope – for Fletcher to silence you. He just gestures for you to continue. “I think I saw Doctor Bergmann. And she had a child,” you continue, “In her cabin, there was a photo. A family photo, I guess. Her man-”

“That's enough,” Fletcher interrupts gently. Sighing, he pinches his brow. “Don't mention this again. To her, or to anyone else,” he warns after a long moment, “It's a sensitive subject. Yes, her family were... taken. UN search teams combed through their town after Nebiros attacked it, but they found no trace of either husband or daughter. No trace of life at all.”

“Then, they're both...” you murmur, “I never saw anything through the girl's eyes, I hoped maybe-”

“No trace of life at all,” Fletcher repeats quietly.

[2/3]

>>3701490
I kind of fail to see what the point of that would be. Do you just want to torment her a bit more? I presume affiliation with NERV/UN will allow her to ask someone to find a person if they are still alive. Even in lawless wastes of Russia they had semi-organized refugee camps, so I assume Europe got even more of their shit together.

>>3701504
Problem is with that information bait approach that we know for a fact that SEELE are not focused, as stated by Fletcher, which is why we had talk with Elrow. Some outsider can't tell us what's going on there. And if they are an insider (chances are slim), that's gotta be even worse, because we won't learn a thing and will get used by one of the sides.

>>3701525
The point of telling her is to provide closure and confirmation for her, as we have come across a potentially unique source information that could head off something worse in future( for example having her daughter being used as leverage to get her research data which we don't want regardless of the side involved ), just like with the File business with Holly and Claire proved, getting something like this dropped on you is never fun, especially if you may need to make snap decisions if you need to make and being forewarned of potential power plays that they could make should allow for her to plan around them / consider the possibility of this angle being used against her.

>>3701548
Leaving the daughter as a maybe isn't closure, it's torture. As it stands, she has already mourned both of them.

>>3701548
I think she's already come to terms that they are both gone. Giving extra details won't help.

>>3701521

Fletcher's warnings still echo through your head as you descend down the elevator, making one last stop before heading out to the mall. This is a stop that you've been dreading, but you need to get it over with. Bergmann... she took Claire from you, and she had her family taken in turn. Is that justice? Are you supposed to be all even now? It doesn't feel that way. Lives aren't just numbers that can be balanced out in some grand equation, no matter what men like Elrow might think.

When you arrive in her laboratory, Bergmann is a woman at rest. Her long, slender body is stretched languidly out, one arm draped over the back of her chair. She doesn't look like a woman mourning her family. Give her a throne and a bowl of grapes, she could be a cruel empress watching bloody gladiatorial combat. Not even watching with rapt attention either, just an idle disinterest.

“So you remembered where to find me, then,” she announces, “Or did you get lost on the way to Karina's room?”

You flinch at the mention of Karina's name, recalling Coraline's message. It's a perfectly normal thing for a woman like Bergmann to say, you're just seeing connections where there aren't any. “I came to ask you something,” you reply, forcing yourself to approach, “About your research. About... the point of it all. I don't know what you were trying to achieve. Furthering your research into the AT Field... what does that achieve? What kind of better world would that make?”

“Tell me, Holly,” Bergmann answers, “Why are the Lilim dangerous?”

“Why are...” you splutter, “They're giant monster movie rejects, capable of smashing their way through a city without breaking a sweat – if they even CAN sweat! Some of them can shoot lasers! What about them isn't dangerous?”

“Technically correct, but not the point,” she counters, “The Lilim are dangerous because of the damage they can do to the AT Field of unprotected humans. Even the strongest defence we have is powerless against this force. Beneath their burning light, men are stripped bare and reduced to the base substance. But, if men could be uplifted to a level where their own, natural AT Fields are capable of repelling Lilim intrusion or manipulation, we would have nothing to fear.”

And now it makes sense. Her family, with their pale and sickly souls, fell prey to Nebiros' manipulation and were destroyed. Thus, her work took on a new and terrible resolve.

“Well?” Bergmann prompts, her single eye fixing you with a hard stare, “Was that everything?”

>Everything. Right. I gotta go
>Not everything... (Write in)
>Other

>>3701610
>>Everything. Right. I gotta go

>>3701610
>Not everything... (Write in)
Ask about the reasoning behind why the Circle Eleven Trials took place at Compass Academy. Is it Just our bad luck or was there another reason.


As an example of what I am talking about say Bergmann hadn't convinced Fletcher to provide us with a copy of our file, do you think that we wouldn't have already accepted phantom's most recent Invitation for a second chance at obtaining it. Now that we know what has happened they can't use it as leverage.

>>3701610
>I guess I should go ahead and mention what Unit 02 said to me.
>Wait, if everyone had AT fields, wouldn't we all resonate or something? There's no ADM, but thousands of people together seems like more than enough to cause problems.

>>3701610
>Not everything... (Write in)
Imagine you did this. You found the technology to give people those superpowers (my assumption is that telepathy and telekinesis go with it). How would you share it? Create a special caste? Give it to everyone?

What about the long-term effects? How would you study those? Pilots are fine now, but will that last? Karina certainly doesn't look like she'll be fine.

Do you have specific fans of your research? Someone must have been very impressed to give you near infinite resources to proceed with the studies before Lilim showed up.

If that's too much any one of the questions is fine.

>>3701610
>Other
That thing in the center of the Circle that killed all the other kids. What was it and where is it?

>>3701610
>>Not everything... (Write in)
What was the thing that facilitated the circle eleven trials? The glowing thing that killed all those kids?

Hesitating, you glance back at the door. You could be out right now, going to the mall and doing normal teenager stuff. Instead, you're here – bathed under white fluorescent lights in a mad scientist's lab. “I gotta ask,” you hear yourself say, “This world you're thinking of. A world where people can have... powers. Would everyone have them, or just the chosen few? Could a world like that be controlled?”

“I'm sure that some would like to keep this power contained within a select few. Head office themselves, I'm sure, would endorse an idea just like that. Were the choice mine, I would offer everyone the same power. That way, no one group can reign over all of mankind. As of now, whoever controls the ADM Units will control the world. I resent that idea,” Bergmann explains, “Let men be powerful, and let them be free.”

“Even if that freedom just leads to greater conflict?” you press, “To a new era of war and chaos?”

“If that is what men choose, so be it,” Bergmann agrees with a casual gesture, “You think it's a monstrous idea, don't you?”

Now there's a hard question to answer. You just shrug. “And what about the long term effects?” you ask instead, “Would men even be able to survive with such power? Karina isn't so healthy, and things get pretty bad when too many ADM Units resonate with each other. If all men resonated with each other...”

“The ADM Units awaken when they act alongside one another. Men are already awake... although sometimes I wonder about that,” the doctor explains, “As for the long term effects, I think men will adjust. They will evolve. They have to. You must not take Karina as an example for the rest of us. Perhaps you have realised this, but she is not like you or I.”

Not like normal people. You know that, of course. You've seen her stomach, flat and unmarked by a human bellybutton. Whatever she is, Karina wasn't born. “And what about that thing from the Circle Eleven trials?” you breathe, “Was THAT like you or I?”

“No. Not like Karina, either,” Bergmann brushes a lock of hair away from her face, “But I don't have clearance to talk about that. Head office is quite strict about that.”

Since when has she ever been concerned about what head office wants? She just doesn't want to tell you, and this is a convenient excuse. One thing sinks in though – SEELE knows. Would Konstantin know too?

“Ask me again later. I'll see if I can pull some strings, get head office to release some files, but they won't lift a finger until the alert is called off,” she sighs, “Be patient, Holly.”

You've heard that one before. “You must have some fans in high places, if you can pull some strings,” you muse, “Some pretty important friends too, to get this kind of funding.”

“Friends? Fans? No, nothing like that,” Bergmann replies with a sly smile, “But I can do things that nobody else can. So long as I deliver results, I'm too useful to piss off.”

[1/2]

>>3701709

The hustle and bustle of the shopping mall feels unreal after the organised chaos of HQ. The people here just seem so wasteful, so inefficient, in how they wander. Watching them, you try to imagine what might happen if each and every one of them had destructive powers. The AT Field can warp the very laws of physics. You might as well just give everyone a recreational nuke and hope nobody decides to push the big red button.

“Holly?” Kaori asks, causing you to look around, “Lost in thought?”

“Yeah. You know me, always thinking deep thoughts,” you reply, blinking as you draw back to reality, “Do you think that an armed society is a polite society?”

Kaori considers this. “Assuming that everyone is rational, yes. I just can't assume that everyone WILL be rational,” she answers, “And all it takes is one bad day, then things might collapse completely.” Pausing, she shakes her head. “This is a pretty depressing conversation,” she points out, “I was having a fun day up until now.”

“I get that a lot,” you sigh, only to laugh and punch her lightly on the arm. Kaori grunts, her plastic bags crinkling as she rubs her shoulder. “Been spending your pocket money, then?” you continue, gesturing to the bags, “Got anything interesting in there?”

Opening her bags, Kaori lets you peer inside. “A few books. I'm not sure how long I'll need to wait down in the gulf. I don't think anyone knows yet – we're making things up as we go along, even if nobody wants to say it,” she muses, “It doesn't exactly fill me with confidence, but they're doing the best they can. We just don't know what Belial is capable of. So far, it's been approaching at a relatively consistent pace. What if it speeds up? What if it has some kind of attack capable of reaching Earth? All we can do is... react. Be ready for anything, and deal with whatever goes wrong.”

Gesturing towards an ice-cream shop, Kaori leads you to a table and skims over the menu. It's not quite the sort of place you'd imagine her eating at, but it's pretty hot today. Any excuse to cool off is more than welcome. “I've been assigned Juliet as a partner. She's going to be carrying a shield, just in case Belial has some way of attacking us directly. More improvisation,” Kaori continues, “I imagine you'll be given a partner as well. Oh, I mean... you're going to be leading the other team, aren't you?”

>I guess I am. I won't let the team down
>I hope not. I don't feel ready for this, not after Germany
>I wish I was going with you instead. That would be... nice
>I think... (Write in)
>Other

>>3701809
>I hope not. I don't feel ready for this, not after Germany
"I'll probably let Claudia take point on this one. She's always wanting to prove herself anyways and I'm still not doing so hot."

>>3701809
>I guess I am. I won't let the team down

>>3701809
>>I guess I am. I won't let the team down
If we can't be a pilot, why are we here?

>>3701841
I mean we should know our limits. We are at half Ego (under half if we still had a max of 100), we haven't gotten shit for taking down Lilims in a long, long time so winning this fight won't help us. I think we only get Ego increases for narrative fights like punching the gangsters. Fights have only ever been a net loss which will put us down to 30ish at best and I'm not even counting Overdrives. We NEED to take a break and get some Ego back else we are fucked.

I hope you guys see this.

>>3701809
>Other
>Refuse unless we get a massive ego boost somehow
Do you think I've been a bit too distracted by the affair with Claire? Do you believe I can lead again?

If you guys aren't comfortable with me acting as a leader, I should step down for a bit. Let myself recover.

>>3701809
>I hope not. I don't feel ready for this, not after Germany
I think that they should swap Juliet for Yulia (assuming that the other pair is Claudia and Yulia as i don't think that they work well together and that is where the problems are going to occur, as they are almost diametrically opposed in their motivations and methods and putting one of them in charge of the other is going to lead to problems to some degree than is optimal.)


>>3701841
Because without us, the wheels would have come off after Ose.

>>3701854
We don't actually know what happens when we hit zero Ego and we won't until we do; Although I do sort of agree that Ego death can't be a good thing it just may not be
the end.

>>3701875
Moloch has gone on record saying that low or zero ego is extremely bad news


Also to put things in perspective this is our ego gains from defeating Lilims:

>Flauros: +15 from defeating
>Eligor: +10 from defeating
>GARDEN Lilim: +10
>Ose Phase 1: 0 from defeating
>Ose Phase 2: 0 from defeating
>Malthus: 0 but we didn't finish it off ourselves
>Titan: 0 from defeating, We did get a lot from the berserk on the base but none from the actual win
>Nebrios: 0 from defeating

I don't know if there is a story reason or not, but ever since Ose we've been getting jack and we are feeling it.

>>3701809
>Other
I'll let Monroe make that call.

Another mission, so soon after Nebiros. Well, you can't say that this was entirely unexpected. Before you can answer her question, Kaori raises a hand to call over a waitress. “Two bowls please,” she says, “One coffee, one chocolate.”

“Comin' right up,” the waitress replies, turning away with an extravagant swish of her hips.

“Oh, sorry, is chocolate okay?” Kaori asks as an afterthought, her face paling with a sudden stab of panic, “I've seen you eating chocolate before, so I assumed you'd like-”

“Chocolate is fine,” you assure her, hastening to calm her. Waiting until the ice cream arrives, you dig in with your spoon. Sweet and cold, with a pleasing bitterness. “Will I be leading the team? Monroe seems to think so,” you muse, “And I guess orders are orders. I just hope I don't let the team down. After what happened in Germany, I'm not sure if I'm... ready. Maybe Claudia-”

“Can you imagine her being a sniper? She'd spend so long complaining about being bored that she'd miss her shot!” Kaori interrupts, an uncharacteristic giggle bubbling up from within her, “Sorry, sorry, it just... it's a funny mental image. She'll probably be your assigned partner for this operation. If you're really not feeling up to it, just tell the commander. She'll understand.”

“And Claudia would just love a chance to show off,” you agree, “I dunno. I'd like a good win, a nice clean operation, but... what if something goes wrong? It feels like a lot has been going wrong lately, and...”

Kaori looks down at her slowly melting ice cream. “What you're feeling right now, that's how I felt after Berlin,” she murmurs, “The doubt. The uncertainty. You lose the ability to trust yourself, and you start running from responsibility. It's going to be tough, Holly, and there's no easy way of working through it, but you've got one advantage that I never did. You've got friends here, and every one of us – even Claudia – is going to be supporting you.”

You start to say something, only to find yourself speechless. Meeting Kaori's eyes, you see a cool sincerity in them. This is no motivational speech, intended to get you fired up and ready. These are the calming words of a friend, something you've been waiting so long – it seems like so long – to hear.

>Ego increased by 5
>Current Ego: 46/80

“Now eat that before it melts,” she orders, nodding down to your ice cream, “I hate seeing food go to waste. Don't make me tell you about the starving Africans!”

“Anything but that!” you protest, picking up your spoon and preparing to dig back in. Before you can eat, though, your phone rings. Monroe.

“Are you still at the mall?” she snaps, her voice wide awake and alert, “Both of you?”

“Yes,” you begin, “Why-”

“I'm sending a car,” she states, hanging up without a word. Blinking in confusion, you stare at the phone for a long moment more.

Sounds like trouble.

[1/2]

>>3701925
>Ice cream denied
Belial will PAY for this.

>>3701948
I'm more concerned that Monroe doesn't appear to know where we are, even though our phone's tracking beacon should still be on, and she should have access to that.

>>3701972
It's likely faster to just call us than ask Fletcher, and it confirms Kaori's location as well.

>>3701925

A single fat raindrop splashes against the concrete as you wait for the car, taking shelter under the mall doorway. The skies are threatening more than just a single drop, with churning clouds just waiting to dunk on your entire day. “Do you think I'm losing my edge?” you ask suddenly, “This stuff with... everything that's happened with Claire and my parents and all the rest. Do you think I'm too distracted for this job?”

Kaori sighs, looking up at the turbulent sky. “In the space of a few days, a massive part of your life has changed. Worse, it's been ripped away from you. I'd be more worried if you weren't distracted,” she points out, “You're more than just a soldier, Holly.”

“Am I?” you counter, “If I'm not a pilot, what do I have left? The old life I had, that I thought I had, was just a lie. I can't go back, but I can't keep going on like this either. Coraline lost everything, she lost her friend and she lost her job as a pilot. Look what happened to her!”

“Coraline?” Kaori repeats, blinking in slow confusion, “She's... a little odd, a little eccentric, but she seems to be doing okay. She's holding down a job, and she always seems happy enough when we've seen her.”

Of course. She doesn't know. How miserable it is, to carry a secret that you can't share with anyone!

“Claire tried to warn me about this. She said that this would destroy me,” you whisper to yourself, your gaze falling low, “I should have listened to her.”

Kaori says nothing. Rain falls, and a car pulls up nearby. You barely notice.

-

“We're moving to full alert. Belial has taken deliberate, aggressive action,” Cam reports as she drives, “Bastard shot one of our satellites out of the sky. Out of orbit. Whatever. The science team are still trying to figure out how, but as far as I'm concerned, it just declared war on us. Commander Monroe wants this whole operation put on double time. Saitou, you're going to be flying out ahead of schedule. Reynolds, your ADM is already heading north along with Rainer's unit. They've got a site in Maine that should work.”

“I don't think I can do this,” you murmur. Cam doesn't seem to notice.

“It's going to be a tight schedule, but it's possible. Raingun Alpha is already on-site, and the local power infrastructure is being prepared,” she continues, “UN forces are clearing out any locals, just in case Belial's attacks can hit ground level. Minimise collateral damage, that's the plan. They're going to set up a cordon, just to make extra sure that no civilians wander in. We know what we're doing, Reynolds.”

“I don't think I can do this!” you snap, raising your voice against the rain hammering against the windows. Shocked into silence, neither Cam nor Kaori says anything for a while. Then, finally, the soldier speaks.

“You have to,” Cam states simply.

[2/3]

>>3702005

“Why are you doing this? Why struggle and strive for men and women who have never thanked you, never showed you the appreciation you deserve? You've suffered and bled for them, you've had your greatest friend ripped away from you, and all they've done is lie to you. Manipulate you. Now, when you cry out for help, they just push you back into the firing line to save their own hides. When all this is over, what do you think they'll do? At best, you'll be an embarrassing memory of their own crimes, given a gaudy medal and gagged until the day you die. At worst, you'll be a loose end that they snip off for the sake of a neat, tidy world.”

“Why do THIS for THEM?”

-

“Holly, good, you're back!” Monroe calls out, practically dragging you from the car, “I hope Cam explained the situation. We're trying to get everything in place as soon as we can. Claudia is already on the road north, travelling with her ADM. I want you to see Doctor Weick, then I need you to move out. Cam, can you handle the driving?”

“But Karina...” Cam begins, only to nod curtly, “Yes Commander. I'll be waiting with the car. A helicopter would be faster, though.”

“Weather warnings. I don't like our chances,” Monroe explains, “A transport plane is one thing, but a light chopper is out of the question. We're still not sure if these atmospherics are just shitty weather or something Belial is doing. Holly – the infirmary, GO!”

“Why ME?” you cry, “You've got Claudia on the road already, isn't that good enough? Why ME?”

A cold silence. Then, with a faint grimace, Monroe jerks her head around in a curt arc. “My office,” she instructs, “Follow me.”

-

Monroe's office. You sit in the main chair, with Monroe leaning over you as she types at her computer. Pulling up a video, she sets it to play. Right away, you realise what you're looking at – a recording taken from Operation Sleeping Giant. You recognise site A-11, and then you spot the retreating truck. Your shots knock it over, bringing it to an abrupt halt, and Claudia starts to stalk over to it. Dropping down to all fours, ADM Unit 03 scuttles like a spider as the camera zooms in to the crash site. Then, you see something that makes your heart skip a beat. The driver, alive, crawls from the wreckage.

“But... he died,” you whisper, “You told me he shot himself.”

Monroe says nothing. Mercilessly, the video continues. Unit 03 looms over the surviving driver, then it brings its hand crashing down. A plume of dust flies up, and when the camera feed clears, you see ADM Unit 03 staring into its fist. The driver, somehow alive and held within its grasp, struggles and mouths words. No sound, so you can only guess at what he says. The desperation, however, is clear on his face.

Claudia listens for a while more, then clenches her fist in a single deliberate, murderous motion.

[3/4]

>>3702070

“That wasn't a berserker incident. She chose to do that,” Commander Monroe explains quietly, “But she's claiming to have no memory of it. We tried to question her, but she kept avoiding the issue. Said that we were treating her unfairly, since you were getting away with your... actions. She's a sly one, isn't she?” Monroe sighs, running a hand down her face. Neither of you speaks for a long time. “Do you see why I don't, why I can't, trust her now?” the commander continues, “As a pilot, she's skilled enough. I just... get a bad feeling about her. I want you there, just in case something goes wrong.”

“To spy on her?” you hear yourself ask, “Or to execute her, if the order comes?”

“To make sure the mission is successful,” Monroe whispers, taking a cautious step away from you. Tentatively, she pats you on the shoulder. “Go to the infirmary,” she urges, “I'll be waiting for you at the main elevator. Please, Holly. Just one more mission. That's all I'm asking.”

Patting you on the arm once more, Monroe slips out and leaves you alone in the office. You remain seated for a few seconds more. “What choice do I have?” you mutter, “What else can I...”

Run. Slip away now. Call Coraline. Just forget all of this and... run.

>No, you can't let the commander down like this. You need to do this mission
>You're done with all of this. Maybe Coraline can get you out of here
>There's something else... (Write in)
>Other


>Sorry for the long post. Things ran longer than expected.

>>3702080
>No, you can't let the commander down like this. You need to do this mission

Damnit Claudia

>>3702080
>>No, you can't let the commander down like this. You need to do this mission
As terrible as the work we do is, there is no other option. Fight or die. Once we clear that, then we can pick up the pieces. But we have to make sure there are pieces left to collect, and someone to collect them.

>>3702080
>You aren't the foremost fuckup Holly. You've just seen that everyone is fucking up, and they just soldier on through.
>If you don't do it, who will then?

>>3702080
>No, you can't let the commander down like this. You need to do this mission.

I guess as long as our Ego is not zero it's is recoverable it may take time and effort but we can get there if we try.

>>3702080
>No, you can't let the commander down like this. You need to do this mission
Despite us being right in the middle of ego drain spiral, we have to do this.

I'm currently writing some quick simulation to see how did our chances look from the beginning, because this is cascading thing. We are tossing coins and with every lost toss our chances get worse.

>>3702116
Yep. Objectively the best build is Kaori always our co pilot and a ranged build with high powered rifle every time because it does the most damage to end fights as early as possible. Lilims don't get tired, but we do. Even if something got close range Kaori's extra roll and the build bonuses would cover it.

>>3702116
We seriously need to get into a series of fist fights. That one we did with the gangers only netted us 5 iirc, and that had elevated to lethal by the end.

>>3702134
Unfortunately, we specced into close combat, so the "long-range master" ship has sailed. If we'd built for it, there are several fights we wouldn't have taken nearly as much ego damage from.

Sitting at the desk, staring at the blank computer screen, you feel your heart pounding within your chest. When you see Claudia, you're going to punch her right in her stupid smug face. But right now, Claudia is on a truck driving north. That means one thing.

“Gotta do it. Fuck,” you breathe, “I gotta do it.”

Deep down, some part of you realises that Monroe's intentions were less than pure. When she showed you that video, she did so with a very clear intention. When the shit is about to hit the fan, she's really no better than any of them. She's ready to push you into danger, no matter what you've said or what kind of condition you're in. But this is your life now. No matter what Kaori says, you're just a soldier – time to follow orders.

-

Relishing the cold anger bubbling within your chest, you march down to the infirmary. Doctor Weick is waiting for you, looking as incongruous as ever with a burgundy silk shirt beneath his crumpled white lab coat. Staring at him from the doorway, you find yourself somehow smiling. He looks clownish, but he's absolutely serious, absolutely sincere about it. “Ah, so you are in a good mood?” Weick guesses, looking at your expression, “Sit! I will do this as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah doc, I'm in a real good mood,” you agree, smiling ghoulishly, “But take your time. We might as well be thorough here.”

“Hmm,” the doctor murmurs, pressing the cold stethoscope to your chest, “You have the heart rate of a woman having a nervous breakdown.”

“Too much Mad Bull,” you lie, “I might not have the chance to sleep tonight. Or ever.”

Tutting in disapproval, Weick takes a penlight out of his pocket and starts shining it in your eyes.

-

The medical exam ends up taking longer than expected. Weick insists that you lie down for half an hour and calm down a little. It's the best he can do, short of pumping you full of drugs. You oblige, lying back on the cool linen and imagining the storm clouds gathering above you. Then you find your thoughts trailing back to Claudia, to her actions during Operation Sleeping Giant. Closing your eyes, you picture her.

Claudia sits in the passenger seat of a cargo truck, a boorish driver ignoring her and listening to crushingly archaic heavy metal music. The window is open, allowing a stream of humid air to fly past. Slowly turning her hand over, she looks up and clenches her fist. She smiles.

“Ah, so you CAN sleep,” Weick murmurs, his shirt crinkling as he sits by your bed, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Hard to say,” you admit, cracking open one eye, “Check my heart again. Do I pass inspection?”

Again, the cold sting of metal. Weick listens diligently, nodding along with your heartbeat as he counts away the seconds. “Better now,” he assures you, “Not quite a clean bill of health, perhaps, but better. No more caffeine from now on, yes? Moderation in all things!”

[1/2]

>>3702201

Returning to the main elevator, a bag packed with a change of clothes slung over one shoulder, you find Yulia waiting for you. Cam is nowhere to be seen. “She will be back soon, I think,” the Russian girl explains awkwardly, “She... went down to see Karina. I do not know why.”

“They're good buddies,” you reply vaguely, “Maybe Karina made her a boxed lunch. One of those anime ones with the rice packed in real tight.”

“Maybe,” Yulia murmurs. Then, taking you by surprise, she pulls you into a sudden – and very brief – hug. “To hell with Chekhov,” she whispers, almost angrily, in your ear. Then she lets you go, brushing past you and hurrying away. “I need to be ready. If there is an attack, I need to be here,” she explains, calling back to you over her shoulder, “Avalon cannot be left undefended!”

“Yulia, I-” you try to reply, but she hastens away before you can get any more than that out. You even start to follow her, but Cam appears and approaches you. “Wait,” you protest, “I just need a minute. I have to-”

“Sorry kid, but we're on a schedule,” Cam apologises, taking you by the arm and steering you back towards the car, “We're already running late. We'll split the blame for that – I was expecting you back from the infirmary before now, but then I wandered off, so... like I said, we'll split the blame.” Sitting down and belting up, she places a flat black object on the dashboard.

“What is that?” you ask her, peering at it.

“Oh, that?” Cam muses, smiling to herself, “A gift from Karina. Something to make the drive a little nicer.”

“No, I mean, what is that?” you repeat, “Looks like something my parents would collect. Or THEIR parents...”

“It's called a mixtape. A cassette tape, you know?” the soldier chuckles, “Kids these days...”

-

For the first stretch of the journey, you drive in silence. Cam's radio plays a soft hiss of static, broken only by the occasional update – districts confirmed clear, roads confirmed blocked, confirmations all round. Good news, you assume, but hard to get excited about. Once you're leaving Avalon, Cam fumbles for the tape and slides it into the car's sound system. Old music starts to drift out of the speakers, and Cam laughs quietly to herself.

“Fly Me to the Moon,” she murmurs, “I haven't heard this song in years...”

“Oh yeah, really gets me in the robot fighting mood,” you reply with a smirk, “Never thought it would be your sort of thing, though.”

“I've got hidden depths,” Cam points out, clicking the windscreen wipers on as another hard blast of rain slaps down. It's so loud that you need to turn the music up so you can hear it, and a slight smile forms on Cam's face. “You like it?” she asks, “Never thought it would be your sort of thing.”

“Well, you're not the only one with hidden depths,” you shoot back, sliding low in your seat.

[2/3]

>>3702263

“This whole stretch of road is new. Never used to be like this,” Cam thinks aloud to herself as she drives, “Second Impact really fucked up this stretch of coastline. You see these cliffs? Barely older than you are.”

Grunting a faint agreement, you look around at the scenery. It was pretty at first, even with the constant pall of the rain putting a dampener on things, but you got bored of it after the first few hours. The road winds along the edge of a cliff, with just a sturdy metal barrier standing between you and the crashing ocean below. To your left, a gentle uphill slope leads into a thick forest. A nice place to take a walk, in better weather, but it would be a swamp in rain like this.

Noticing your boredom, Cam glances around. “Cheer up. We're about... two thirds of the way there,” she urges, “Want to listen to the tape again?”

“I might actually kill myself,” you complain, “Sure, Fly Me to the Moon is cool and all, but why did Karina give us like, a dozen different versions of it?”

“Who knows? Even I don't understand that girl sometimes,” the soldier replies with a shrug. The radio blurts static suddenly, and she slows the car. “Must be the first checkpoint. Like I said, they set up a cordon,” she mutters, slowing a little more and wincing as you turn the next corner and emerge into a set of bright lights. Slamming on the brakes, Cam brings the car to a sliding stop. With the rain still tapping against the window, you both remain silent. Beyond the bright lights, you see a number of cloaked figures standing about. It's hard to make out any details, but you see a few distinct helmets. UN blue doesn't show up so well in the dark, but you've seen enough of their goons to know them at a glance. Lighting up a flare, the leader waves for you to drive closer.

Cam eases the car into motion, nudging it a few meters closer to the roadblock, but then she takes her foot from the accelerator and lets the car trundle to a stop. “I don't like this,” she whispers to herself, reaching down to touch the pistol holstered at her belt.

“But they're our guys,” you whisper back, “Right? I mean sure, we've had our differences in the past, but-”

“Holly. I need you to listen to me. If things go wrong, you need to run – head into the forest, and don't stop moving. Get as far away from here as you can. This rain should help you cover your tracks,” Cam orders, “Maybe I'm wrong, but this stinks. I know an ambush when I see one. Fucking Mexico City all over again...”

Without elaborating on what that means, Cam throws open her door and steps out into the rain. At the roadblock, the soldiers make no move. Her hand never straying far from her pistol, Cam slowly begins to approach them.

[3/4]

>>3702320

“I'm with NERV!” Cam calls out, her voice seeming thin and frail against the surging rain, “I have my identification right here. I don't know any of you, though. Who's in charge here?”

No answer. You shift restlessly in your seat, desperately unsure of what you're supposed to be doing. At the roadblock, the soldiers remain at their posts. Only their leader, still lit by the blazing red flare, moves to approach Cam. About a dozen paces apart, they both stop. Even the rain seems to fall silent for a single second. Then it all kicks off.

The UN commander throws the flare at Cam's feet and sweeps a short rifle out from under his rain cape. Cam draws faster, her pistol's report ringing out as she fires. The commander drops, and you throw the car door open, fumbling at your seatbelt and tumbling free. Rainwater splashes around you as you hit the ground hard, struggling to your feet just as another burst of gunfire rattles out. Not simulated this time. Real bullets. Real death. A car door won't do shit against a burst of rifle fire, but you shy away behind the open door regardless. Cautiously peering out, you see Cam crawling back across the ground, one hand clamped around her thigh.

“Reynolds!” a curiously accented voice shouts out, “Come out, Reynolds! Nobody has to die today!”

“Shit...” you hiss, watching as the soldiers emerge. One of them moves ahead of the rest, keeping his rifle trained on Cam as he approaches her. Kicks away her arm, dropping her down to the concrete roadside. Rolls her over with the barrel of his rifle. She stirs, still clutching at her bloodied thigh.

“We'll kill her, Reynolds. Put a bullet in her head, right here and now. Doesn't have to be that way,” the accented soldier shouts, “Step out where we can see you, then come with us. That's all we want. I'll even have one of my boys slap a bandage on her. She might be limping, but she'll get to see tomorrow morning. Good offer, don't you think?”

This is bullshit. This is so much fucking bullshit. You've got Yulia's knife, but so what? There's half a dozen armed men out there. Call for help? But there's no way that any of Fletcher's people could get out here quick enough to... to FIX this.

“I'm going to count to ten,” the soldier snarls, “Ten seconds, and then you can watch her die. Your call, Reynolds.”

What are they... what are you...

It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were supposed to be fighting LILIM.

>You'll do... (Write in)

>>3702376
>You'll do... (Write in)
Take Fletcher's tracker off of our phone (that's going to be confiscated) and hide it somewhere on us with it on. Then come out with our hands up.

>>3702376
>>You'll do... (Write in)
Give ourselves up.
see if they live up to their word.
Once we get them to lower their guard we could go bodyless and see what we can influence

>>3702386
>>3702397
We can book it. Training showed that Holly deflected bullets with AT field unconsciously. They will probably let Cam live to get information. Holly needs to just hang around for a couple of hours, because these guys can't stay here forever.

If you want more crazy plans - try to influence one of the soldiers to shoot at a friendly. And still book it.

After that might as well try to call Fletcher or go bodyless in case they somehow jam cellphone.

>>3702376
>You'll do... (Write in)
This is rather goulish, but when the time runs out, the focus will jump back to Cam for a moment. Use that moment to book it for the trees.

If the stakes were just us, I'd say give ourselves up. But 02 isn't real useful without us, and 02 is needed once again.

If we can find a hiding spot, we can go bodiless, and go on the offensive from there.

>>3702427
>Training showed that Holly deflected bullets with AT field unconsciously.
She doesn't know that and she had much higher ego back then.

>They will probably let Cam live to get information
Not a sure thing though. Cam might inconsequential for them and ultimately I just can't see Holly leaving her to die.

>>3702376
Give up. I assume we'll be taken into a vehicle and then we can 'fall asleep' and start working our magic

>>3702376
Move. We've lost enough ego thank you. Giving ourselves up here sounds like a great way to lose another 5.

>>3702479
>Run away from a fight and letting a friend die

I think *that* will lose Ego. Our abilities let us keep up a fight even in shackles.

>>3702479
Well what happens when we enviably try to run and get caught?

>>3702479
Getting Cam killed would probably lose more if you want to make this a numbers game.

Ten seconds? What the fuck can you do in ten seconds?

“Two... Three...” the soldier snaps, his curt voice forcing you back to reality. Fumbling in your pocket, you drag out your phone and yank Fletcher's tracker off it. Dropping the phone back in your pocket, where they can easily confiscate it later, you stare at the tracker for an agonisingly long second. Then, out of sheer mad desperation, you shove it deep down into your bra. It's cold, and pointy, and really fucking uncomfortable.

But it should stay hidden.

“Run!” Cam yells, her voice strained with pain, “Holly, just... just run!”

She's a soldier. When she stepped out of that car, she must have know that this could happen. That's why she gave you those last, horrible orders. Run. Leave her here. To die. No, they wouldn't let her die. She has to be worth more to them alive, as a prisoner or a hostage, or... or something! This is bigger than just one woman. You need to continue the mission, to get back to Unit 02 and fight. You can't afford to let these men spirit you away to whatever hellhole they have prepared. This is...

Then you think of Karina, and the strength seeps out of you. “You won't hurt her?” you call out, hating how frail your voice sounds, “Promise you won't hurt her!”

Is that a ripple of ugly laughter that you hear?

“We'll take good care of her, but you'd better hurry and make up your mind. She's losing blood fast,” the soldier calls back, “Bleeding out ain't a good way to die. Anyone who told you that, they're just lying to make you feel better. It's a real bad way to go. You feel your life slipping away, and you can't do a thing about it. Worst feeling in the world, I figure. What do you think she's feeling right now?”

Bastard. Monster. The Lilim are one thing, but these men... far worse. Swallowing heavily, you step out from behind the car door and raise your hands above your head. “I'll come quietly!” you call out, “Now you hold up your side of things!”

The commander, still lit by the flickering flare, nods to one of his men. The hooded soldier stoops down and starts to work on Cam, tying a plastic cord around her thigh. Cam groans in pain, but the blood seems to stop flowing. Another pair of soldiers approach you, one of them holding out a sack. Scowling, baring your teeth in an attempt at salvaging some pride, you hiss one last curse as the men pull the sack down over your head.

“Smart girl,” the leader murmurs to you, “It's still a long way to paradise, after all. No point in making the trip any longer.”

You're not done yet. But you need to be patient.

>Going to pause things here for today. Not sure when I'll be able to continue this, though. Friday might be difficult for me. So, updates to come
>Thank you for your patience today!

>>3702503
Thanks for the run.

How long until they realise that putting the bag over Holly's head was pointless.

>>3702503
Thanks for running.

>>3702518
Hopefully never. That's our main advantage here. Depending how many cars they take we can send one off the cliff potentially.

>>3702503
>you shove it deep down into your bra.
I don't think that's going to hide it any. We don't have nearly the storage capacity of, say, Claudia.

>Is that a ripple of ugly laughter that you hear?
The other reason this was stupid. They have no reason to keep their word, especially now they have us. After we get bundled away, they'll give her a third nostril and we'll have sacrificed ourselves for nothing.

Thanks for running.

>>3702532
They obviously don't want us dead. They would have just shot us through the thin car door. 6 ARs would make quick work out of anyone like that.

>>3702547
>They obviously don't want us dead. They would have just shot us through the thin car door.
Those are contradictory statements.
>6 ARs would make quick work out of anyone like that.
True, which is why I suggested making use of the moment Cam's sacrifice would buy us. It's cold, but the stakes were high.

>>3702503
Thanks for running.

I know it's a bit useless complaining, but if these thugs are organized, they could've done a better job of a vehicle takedown without extra drama.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQ2Fvx8hsxM

On a side note, man, I've never grasped the whole 'lies, dirty lies and statistics' thing until I needed to procure some of my own. Despite everything we're looking at decent chances to survive the whole thing, but it really depends on how do you determine the maximum amount of rolls damage.

Simulation code (can run in browser - F12, paste in console and run) - https://pastebin.com/DbNSNvZL
I've tried to define damage as Gaussian, but that is probably not accurate at all. Heals I've wrote up as positive changes between fights. I wasn't looking too deeply in the threads, so I surmised as maximum heal (not berserk) as 20 (from first battle, I think we had a bit of overflow). And maximum damage as 40 (which never happened), so that the median would be around 20 (current average is about 15). I've set amount of fights to 9, seeing that we have 8 more Lilim and some other bullshit just in case.

And we're basically looking at roughly 80% of Holly surviving (>0 ego) until the end. Chances of having more than 50 max ego after all of this are negligible.

>>3702559
How are those contradictory?

I claimed that they don't want to kill us because if they wanted to they could have easily shot us through the car but they didn't.

Man, why do people want to turn this into a fucking numbers game instead of trying to roleplay as Holly?

>>3702503
The third act has started. Shit just got real guys.

>>3703712
It is pretty tiring. Specially when their big brained ideas to get a little ego will have more consequences in the long run that would mostly likely cause ego loss.

>>3703712
Ego considerations are a proxy of in character considerations. It's a literal reflection of how she feels.

>>3704425
We have precious little ego left to spend, in part because of this sort of thinking. Running out of ego is bad end, and running low on ego makes Holly feel terrible. It's not unreasonable for Holly to act in ways that make her feel not terrible, especially with her temperament.
>more consequences in the long run that would mostly likely cause ego loss.
That isn't a thing. Nothing we've done has come back to cause ego issues more than a few posts apart, max. Doing something distasteful isn't going to send Holly into a depression spiral than bleeds ego or something similar.

>>3704444
>Nothing we've done has come back to cause ego issues more than a few posts apart, max.

Thankfully the majority hasn't been stupid enough to do said plans. Could you imagine how shit Holly would feel if she killed civilians and kicked the shit out of her friends? Those same friends that are supporting her now. Or if she let Cam die and had to face Karina later?

>>3702565
I mean tbf Holly getting her ego broken might not outright kill her. I'd imagine she just goes permanently batshit or something.
Unironic Khorne Beserker Holly.

>>3704475
Hey, I can do it too. Can you imagine if we got a bad string of rolls and run out of ego during a Lilium fight?

Look, I don't want to do those things, but we're running on thin margins as it is. Even when a fight goes well, we lose a fair bit of ego, and get none back. When they go bad, we can lose tens of ego. We're going to have to make some hard choices at some point. I'd rather we make them on our terms, rather be forced into choosing to do something terrible or get bad end.

>>3704509
We've never lost a ton of Ego against a Lilim though. The big hit was Claire. Hell, almost half of what we lose in fights is to Overdrive.

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Even More Top Secret Temple Diary – ABSOLUTELY DO NOT READ!

Hey hey people, Nate here. Can you guess what I saw today? I saw THE BIG GUY himself. Buddha Buddy took me down on this big long elevator platform thing to show me the sights. It's like... I don't know how to describe it. Like a big ol' sphere was hollowed out of the ground, and we were SUPER deep underground, and it was a lush garden inside. Sorta. Kind of lush, but in a decayed sorta way, like everything was starting to rot. Right in the middle was this big tree, bigger than like... buildings and shit. It had these knotholes all over it, they were bleeding, and I'm sure I saw a... face.

So yeah, that was pretty fucking weird.

Surrounding the big tree were thrones, and I actually recognised the things sitting on them. Sure, they were naked and all, but those were ADM Units. Let me tell you, dear diary, those things look GROSS without all the armour and stuff. They don't have dicks. I had to learn that, now you need to learn it too. Wait, would it be better if they DID have dicks? Wait, what the fuck am I even writing about? Cabin fever up in this place, jeez...

Oh right. The tree was weird, and the nudist ADMs were gross, but then there were the pods. They were sorta connected up to the tree with fleshy tubes, but they had machine bits as well. Fleshy sacs, fat and swollen with water or something sloshy. I never got the chance to study them or anything, but I could see things inside them. When the light was juuuuust right, I could see like a shape in there. A real skinny silhouette, just a little smaller than the ADM dudes.

Pretty strange fruit they're growing here. I tried asking Buddha Buddy about it, but I don't think I was speaking so good at that point. More like I went “bluh bluh bluh” and waved my hands about. He thought I was asking about the tree, and... I guess maybe I was? He said that it was Adam, although that was just what WE called it. It could just as easily be called Arthur, with his mighty Excalibur. Names are a thing men gave them. He asked me what I thought about that.

I told him that Arthur was a pretty fucking lame name for a raging warrior god. I don't think he liked that so much.

-

Another visit with Doctor Vulture too. Maybe I shouldn't call her names, she's not that bad. At least she brought me a present today, a gift of thick winter socks. Other warm clothes too, since I was sorta lacking in that department. Kinda creepy how she got the sizes exactly right, but I guess they've got all that stuff on file. I bet these people have EVERYTHING on file. When I think of my entire life being reduced to a bunch of numbers in a folder, I feel kinda... weird.

So I guess I shouldn't think about it, huh?

[1/2]

>>3708781

We talked for a while, Doc Vulture and me. I asked her what she was doing, just to be polite, and then I got the idea. I could be SNEAKY and get all kinds of information from her. Then, I could send a letter back to Vic and he can tell the others. It would be like being a spy! Except, they probably read any letters I send out from here and black out any of the secret stuff. So... I guess my career as a spy was short lived. Still, I've got a real good memory – I can just tell them when I get back!

If I can explain it properly. What Doc Vulture said was... She said that she'd been real busy lately, chasing a Lilim about. Not hunting it though. Studying it. It was roaming around all the islands and coastlines for like, ages, and her people have been following it every step of the way. I dunno how to feel about that. Isn't our job to fight Lilim, not study them? But like, maybe you need to study them before you can fight them, so... I dunno. This stuff makes my head hurt.

So if they've been chasing this thing, I asked, do they know what it does? The Doc said, it sings. I said, that's pretty lame. She just smiled and said that some songs have power. She said that she was learning to sing too.

Yeah, I dunno. Winter socks are nice and all, but she's just too creepy.

>This concludes today's interlude episode. I'm going to be trying to run on Wednesday, since Friday is looking like a no-go, but things might have to continue on Saturday instead.
>Thank you for reading along today!

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>>3708781
>>3708786
>She said that she was learning to sing too.

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>>3708786
W-well, at lease we offed that one, right?

>>3710696
Yes, though she may still have the data she needs to finish learning how to sing.

I looked up How Arthur got injured and found this, the number of coincidences is surprising.

Arthur goes to war against the Roman leader Lucius Tiberius, leaving his nephew Modredus (Mordred) in charge of Britain. In Arthur's absence, Modredus secretly marries Arthur's wife Ganhumara (Guinevere) and takes the throne for himself. Arthur returns and his army faces Modredus' at Camblana (the River Camel in Cornwall). Many are killed, including Modredus; Arthur is mortally wounded and taken to the Isle of Avalon to recover, passing the crown to his kinsman Constantine.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Camlann

>>3708786
>She just smiled and said that some songs have power. She said that she was learning to sing too.
That...hmmm. I swear Nate is the only normal person in the entirety of NERV, and she's slowly being warped the longer she's here.

>upNATE
Moloch, you're killing me.

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Being bundled into the back of a car with a sack over your head really is remarkably unpleasant. It emphasises all kinds of new and awful things. The smell of stale sweat clinging to the men either side of you. The awkward pain of Fletcher's tracking device in your bra. The shuddering sound of your own breath inside the cloth hood. It's just unpleasant in so many different ways. Just deal with it, you tell yourself, deal with it until you can go bodiless. Then you'll even the score.

You were frisked, albeit briefly, before being pushed into the car. Your knife and your phone, both gone, but the soldiers did a rush job. Or maybe modesty prevented them from patting you down properly. Either way, the tracking device remains hidden. They'll find it eventually, they have to, but the longer it takes...

“Mission successful. We got the girl,” the lead soldier reports, talking to some unseen comrade, “Returning to base now.”

“Was it clean?” a woman's voice – Coraline's voice – replies.

“No deaths,” the soldier announces. There is a short pause.

“That wasn't what I asked, Reyes,” Coraline stresses, her voice cold, “This was supposed to be clean. This was supposed to be fucking spotless.”

Fragile silence. You find yourself cursing the hood covering your face – if only you could see the man's expression right now! “Nobody died. One of my boys took a hit, one of theirs took a hit. Not the girl!” he replies, emphasising those last words. Listening hard, you consider what you're hearing. There's a tension between Coraline and this Reyes guy, a kind of unspoken resentment. They might follow the same cause, but they're far from friends. That might be useful, if-

“Ow!” you yelp, flinching away as a sharp pain stabs into your arm. The pain fades quickly, replaced by a sense of warm looseness that begins in your arm and flows through the rest of your body. It gets harder to think, harder to focus, harder to... care about the things going on around you. Drugs, you think as you slump back in the uncomfortable seat, those bastards drugged you. They stuck a needle in your arm and they drugged you.

What follows this is unclear. The line between fantasy and reality blurs, and you're never quite sure if you're still trapped within your physical body. At times, you seem to hear thoughts aloud – soldiers grumbling about the rain, about risking their lives for what must seem like a pointless operation, unflattering thoughts about each other – but whenever you try to focus on any one mind, your thoughts just slip uselessly off. Then, are those thoughts you hear really real?

Is any of this really real?

[1/2]

>>3711113

Wedged in between two of the uncouth soldiers, you feel the road beneath you change from paved concrete to roughshod soil. Every bump and ditch causes you to sway from side to side, the large men pressing in against you. Rain continues to hammer down, but the driver keeps pressing forwards with a manic pace. He must be in a hurry, with the need for haste outweighing any thoughts of safety.

How long have you been driving for, anyway? Between the hood covering your head and the drug coursing through your veins, it's hard to tell much of anything. It must have been some time, because your head is starting to clear a little – just barely, at least. Scraping together the scattered fragments of your will, you cast your thoughts outwards. Leaving your body, leaving the rugged jeep, you see thick trees around you and a muddy path winding through the forest. As you chase after the car, you watch it skid and slide around a corner as disaster looms. Not exactly a reassuring sight, and you race back inside the car.

Still bodiless, you study the other men in the car. The driver is rigid and tense, his wide eyes fixed on the winding road ahead. Sitting beside him is the lead soldier, Reyes. A dark man with sly features – not exactly ugly, but with the hard gleam of a survivor – he scowls to himself as he gazes out the window. Brushing your mind against his, you hear a constant stream of complaints... mainly focused on Coraline. She's getting ideas above her station, Reyes thinks, taking too much authority into her own hands. Making her own play for power. How much of that is real, and how much is paranoia? That remains unclear.

Casting your thoughts wider, you sense a familiar presence sharing the car with you. Cam, the warmth of her thoughts drawing you in, remains bound and hooded in the trunk of the car. Your stomach lurches at the sight/sensation of her. They patched her up, just as they promised, but they kept her as a prisoner too. Bastards.

“Chief,” one of the soldiers hisses, and you feel a hand shake your physical body, “I think there's something wrong with the kid.”

“Damn it!” Reyes curses, “If we don't get this brat back safely, that bitch will have our heads.” There is a rustle as he twists around in his seat to examine you, and then you hear a curt laugh. “You ass, she's just out cold,” he continues, “Probably got scared, the poor little thing. Got scared and fainted. We're almost there, and we can have the doc check her over, but it's better for us if she doesn't fight. I've heard that she's a nasty one.”

Oh, he has no idea. Their drugs are still sapping much of your strength, but you've got a few tricks left up your sleeve. The question is, how should you play this?

>Try to distract the driver. It wouldn't take much to cause an accident here...
>Attempt to sow seeds of mistrust in Reyes. You can use this opening
>Play along for now, but learn as much as possible. Any details could help
>Other

>>3711114
>Try to distract the driver. It wouldn't take much to cause an accident here...

It doesn't need to be too serious we just need to delay them until Fletcher figures it out.

>>3711114
>Play along for now, but learn as much as possible. Any details could help

>>3711114
>>Attempt to sow seeds of mistrust in Reyes. You can use this opening
Sadly an accident could seriously hurt Cam considering her position and potentially us.

That said I'm not sure what a Reyes opening would give us, bound and drugged as we are, but I guess we'll see

>>3711113
>Coraline's voice
And now the truth comes out. Little miss friendly wasn't just a poor misunderstood agent caught between the UN and NIHIL.


>Try to distract the driver. It wouldn't take much to cause an accident here...

>>3711114
>>Attempt to sow seeds of mistrust in Reyes. You can use this opening

Every moment you hesitate is bringing you closer to your destination, and whatever unlovely fate waits for you there. Every moment you hesitate is bringing Belial closer to Earth. You can't just sit here and wonder about this and that, you need to act!

Beneath the hood, you close your eyes tight and screw up your face as you concentrate. It's a good thing that your face is covered right now, because you're hardly going to be looking cute right now. Forcing your thoughts out, you search out Reyes' mind. He's easier to find than the others, his mind lively with thoughts while theirs are dulled by obedience. Thinking back to the snatch of conversation that you overheard, you form blunt thoughts with your thoughts.

“You're just disposable. Coraline would sacrifice you in an instant if it meant capturing... the girl,” you tell him, stumbling at the last minute. Better if Reyes believes this to be his own idea. “Never even asked about your wounded man. Never cared about anything but the girl,” you continue, “She's making a play for power. Trying to take all the glory for this job. You're just one more loose end for her to tie up, and it's only a matter of time now.”

It doesn't take much to steer Reyes' thoughts in that direction. He's already burning with suspicion, with anger at having to follow her orders, and he happily takes up the paranoid chant. Stepping back and observing him for a moment, you notice how stiff and tense his expression has become. His hand rests on the grip of his holstered pistol, and behind his dark eyes, grim wheels are turning.

Can't stop now. Need to do more. Getting hard to focus your thoughts, though. Dimly, you grow aware that your body is panting heavily. “Chief, I think she's choking!” one of the soldiers cries, “What should I-”

“Let her choke, the little brat!” Reyes spits, before he lets out a sound like a dying animal and corrects himself, “No... no, we still need her. Give her some air, at least.”

A distant feeling of cool air as one of the soldiers lifts the hood a little, uncovering your nose and mouth. Bad mistake – the fresh air helps clear your head a little, just enough for you to hone in on the driver. With no time or will for subtlety, you slam into his head and cause him to jolt around. He spasms, the steering wheel jerk in his hands, and the car obediently jumps around like a startled beast. Shuddering and bucking, it plunges off the path and down the muddy slope. Blindness descends like a curtain as you flee back into your body, just as the car smashes into something and comes to an abrupt halt. Hurled forwards, you crash into the seat in front and cry out in pain, hot blood already flowing from your split forehead.

No time for that, you warn yourself, reaching up with a shaky hand to pull the hood off. No time at all.

[1/2]

>>3711183

Blinking away tears, you cast a fleeting glance around the shattered car. Looks like the driver plunged straight into a tree, caving in the whole front section. He looks... you can't worry about that now. These bastards would've happily shot Cam. This is no more than they deserve. The other soldiers look alive, although in varying states of consciousness after the crash. Reyes is already stirring, muttering to himself in some faintly Latin tongue. Even though your head feels about ready to split open, you force yourself to push past the soldier on your right. Slamming the door open, you fall out and splash in the mud.

Then you pause, turning back and raking through the man's pockets. Your knife is there, and your phone. A lifeline. For a moment, you look down at the knife and up at the stunned men. You wonder.

With a violent shake of your head – and the motion almost makes you throw up – you turn away. Causing the crash is one thing, but cold blooded murder... that's different. You're not sure if you could explain how, but it's different.

A groan from the stunned man causes you to jump back in sudden fear, the loose mud beneath your feet giving way and sending you down in a clumsy tangle of limbs. The soldier stirs, one arm flapping limply at his seatbelt as he begins to wake, and you struggle to rise. To leave. To-

“Oh god,” you breathe, “Cam...”

Cam. Cam, still in the trunk of the car. Cam, with her wounded leg. Cam, a burden that can only slow you down. You know what she would say if she was awake and sitting right in front of you right now, you know that she'd tell you to run, but...

>You can't just leave her here, no matter how badly she slows you down
>You've got no choice. You have to leave her and save yourself
>Other

>>3711207
>You can't just leave her here, no matter how badly she slows you down

If we aren't going to kill the remaining soldiers we should take her with us, or at least get her going. It may be worth it to give her the phone so she can call Fletcher while we split up and run in opposite directions.

>>3711207
>You can't just leave her here, no matter how badly she slows you down
We got in this mess because we wanted to save her, we're not leaving without her.

>>3711207
>>You've got no choice. You have to leave her and save yourself
We'll wind up in the exact same situation. If she survived the crash, if we can get her out, if she's conscious enough to move under her own power, she has at least one serious mobility wound. Holly is nowhere near strong enough to haul Cam under the best of circumstances, and 02 isn't doing anything without us. We have to get back. We were low on time before this mess.

>>3711207
>You can't just leave her here, no matter how badly she slows you down
>Grab a gun and pop the trunk. Aim for the legs or arms if we have to shoot

>>3711207
>You can't just leave her here no matter how badly she slows you down.

Even if we get recaptured

>>3711207
I can't believe anons actually voted to crush the car with us in it.

>Take the soldiers' weapons, free Cam, call Fletcher.

>>3711207
>>You've got no choice. You have to leave her and save yourself
Not for our own sake, but because the job we do can only be done by us. I'd rather go back for her but the stakes are too high.

>She just smiled and said that some songs have power. She said that she was learning to sing too.
No Moloch you're writing an Eva quest not a RaXePhon quest.

>>3711207
>You've got no choice. You have to leave her and save yourself
Look what saving her got us this time. Is hindsight in Holly's character yet?

>>3711217
Didn't Fletch cover there's no such thing as a nonlethal place to shoot someone, and that hitting center mass is hard enough? Trying for trick shots when we have such little training is going to make us even more likely to miss, and if we made them they're just as likely to bleed out.

>>3711207
>>You can't just leave her here, no matter how badly she slows you down
>Grab a gun
We need to get a gun first

>>3711243
We are standing over them. It's kind of hard to miss unless they're flailing around like an epileptic fish.

>>3711243
>Trying for trick shots when we have such little training is going to make us even more likely to miss

I was thinking point blank while they are still reeling as opposed to in the forest at range. Regardless it's good to have a ranged weapon on us.

Yeah, shooting them or not

>>3711207
Adding
>take a gun to >>3711231

>>3711255
>>3711253
Just fucking kneecap him

>>3711253
>Fletch cover there's no such thing as a nonlethal place to shoot someone,
All it will do is make them take a little longer to bleed out, especially with the rest of the truck woozy.
Speaking of, these are soldiers. If there's one thing that will get them running on autopilot, it's gunfire. We start popping shots off right next to them they're going to start moving much quicker.

>>3711255
We'll need something with a strap, especially if we're going to be dragging an adult female as a child. And that means a rifle, which will likely be tangled up in the crash around the soldiers carrying them.

>>3711276
>We start popping shots off right next to them they're going to start moving much quicker.

That's why I have the 'if we have to' addendum to my vote. Like if someone tries to grab a hold of us while we are popping the trunk.

>>3711276
You can't bleed out if you get shot in the foot.

>>3711262
There are vital blood vessels all throughout the body, that if severed will kill you. This includes the legs, of which the knees are a part. Holly knows this, fletcher told her. If we're going to shoot them (bad idea) at least make it clean.

>>3711288
You absolutely can. There is no "safe" spot to shoot someone. Which Holly knows.

No way, there's no way you're leaving Cam here. It doesn't matter how badly she slows you down, you can't leave her with these bastards. But you'll need to work fast. Swallowing away the sour taste of bile, you look back to the closest soldier and then down to the pistol strapped to his thigh. Nearly slipping on the mud, you lunge for the gun and grab at it. It's halfway out of the holster before the man's hand clamps around your wrist. Jerking up, you find yourself staring into a pair of wide, maddened eyes. The man's face is bloodied, his nose crooked against his filthy face, and his expression is drunk with violence. His grip tightens, and you feel the bones in your wrist grind together. Crying out again, you swing your other hand around and punch the man straight in the face.

A shrill scream escapes the man as his broken nose is twisted even further out of shape by your punch. With his grip loosening, you spring back and stagger around to the rear of the car. For a moment, you have horrifying visions of the trunk sticking, some tiny but significant dent in the metal locking it up. When you realise that the opposite is true, that the whole thing has been jarred open, you laugh aloud in lunatic relief. Shoving the pistol into your belt, you throw the trunk fully open and grab Cam's shoulder. Shaking her, you hear her groan softly. Stripping off her hood and slitting the plastic tie binding her wrists – Yulia's knife has already proven its worth – you start to drag Cam out. Slipping again, you fall back and splash in the mud with her landing atop you.

Wet footsteps cause you to look around, the wounded enemy lurching closer. He has a knife of his own, a heavy combat blade, and his eyes are alive with the thoughts of murder. Lunging on you, he grabs Cam and throws her off of you before raising the knife. Before the blow can land, a ringing gunshot splits the night air. He falls, leaving you to blink in slow confusion. Cam, holding the smoking pistol she took from your belt, looks just as confused as you.

“We need to go,” you hiss, scrabbling to your feet as Cam tries to do the same. She half-rises, then stumbles. Grabbing for her, you offer her what little strength you have left and start to move. Behind you, you hear a shout of anger. Reyes. Risking a backwards glance, you see him stagger out of the shattered car and throw back his head.

“You!” he roars, crying into the night, “You had this all worked out from the start, didn't you? You're all in on this together!”

“The hell is he talking about...” Cam mutters, limping along with you. You're just starting to find your rhythm, to flee a little faster, and then a bullet crashes into a nearby tree. Showered by a hail of splinters, you flinch back and stifle a cry of pain as more blood drips from your face.

[1/2]

>>3711311

You've got no idea where you're going. For all you know, you've doubled back on yourself by now and you're just walking back to the car. Back to whoever waits for you. At least Reyes seems to have fallen behind now, his madness distracting him long enough for you to get a headstart on him. From the occasional snatches of screamed threats that you hear, you really wouldn't like to be in Coraline's shoes later. Then again, maybe she doesn't deserve any sympathy if-

Cam falls, half-dragging you down to the mud once more. Grabbing her, you pull her into the shelter of a wide tree and look down at her leg. The plastic tourniquet has started to loosen, and the blood is flowing once more. You move to tighten it, only to hesitate. Isn't there some rule about keeping a tourniquet on for too long?

“Better than bleeding out completely,” Cam whispers, her weak hands fluttering against yours. Nodding grimly, you cinch the tourniquet tight again and try to ignore her gasp of pain. Then, you slump down beside her. Sitting here while Reyes is still prowling is a damn dangerous thing to do, but you're tired. Too tired to move, it seems like. Fumbling out your phone, you turn it on and look at the screen with dismay. Countless missed calls, messages from Fletcher and the others, so many that your phone doesn't know what to do with them all. Forget that. Just call for help.

“Where the hell are you?” Fletcher hisses, his voice punching out of the phone before you have a chance to speak, “You can't just abandon a mission and-”

“We're in trouble!” you blurt out, your words silencing him, “There were men, armed men, they stopped us. Shot Cam. Tried to take me. We're hiding out now. The tracker. Can you find us?”

Some of that, you assume, must have made sense to him. On the other end of the phone, you hear a flurry of typing. “I have your location now,” the mercenary reports, the original anger in his voice now melting into a low, reassuring tone, “I'm dispatching a team to pick you up. I want you to stay calm and listen to me. You need to head south. If you keep heading south, that will take you to the road. Once you're there, find some place to hide and wait for further contact.”

“The mission-” you begin, but Fletcher interrupts you.

“We're moving to plan B. Claudia and Kaori can make the shots. Don't waste time thinking about the mission,” he warns, “Right now, getting out of there IS your mission.”

Before you can distract yourself with further questions, he ends the call. “South,” you whisper to Cam, “We need to head south. Where's south?”

Smiling wearily to herself, Cam holds up her wrist to show you her bulky survival watch, a tiny compass included. “Be prepared,” she murmurs to herself, “Just like the Girl Scouts say.”

“Great,” you reply, “After this, we can go out selling cookies too.”

[2/3]

>>3711297
You literally can't.

>>3711394

Cam keeps the gun, although you're not sure if she'll be able to use it at anything other than point blank range with how badly her hands are trembling. You're in no position to be throwing any stones, though – you're shaking just as much, trembling as if chilled by the rain. All you can do is trudge forwards, putting one foot in front of the next and fighting to keep your eyes open. It's painfully slow going, and every time you check Cam's watch, you realise that you've been veering off course.

“Hey,” you murmur, patting Cam on the arm, “Hey, say something!”

“Something,” Cam replies, “What?”

“Just making sure you're still...” you begin, only to quickly change your mind and correct yourself, “Still awake. Can't be napping in a place like this, right?”

She nods vaguely, her head lolling weakly back and forth. “I'm fine. Just stay quiet. Don't want anyone sneaking up on us,” Cam scolds, slipping a little as her foot finds a loose rock. Pulling her back upright, you feel just how limp her body is getting. Pale in the face, slick with sweat, her eyes glassy, Cam looks like she has one foot in the grave already. Dragging her along like this just feels cruel, but some part of you wonders if stopping for a rest might be a mistake.

“You're not giving up on me, are you?” you persist, trying to jostle her back into action. Wearily, Cam shakes her head. But she says nothing. Her silence is grating, sapping your own morale.

>Maybe you both need to stop and take a rest
>Forget idle chatter. You need to focus on moving forwards
>Just keep Cam talking. Maybe talk about... (Write in)
>Other

>Sorry for the delay. Hit a bit of a slump for a moment.

>>3711562
>Forget idle chatter. You need to focus on moving forwards.
She has a point.

>>3711562
>>Just keep Cam talking. Maybe talk about... (Write in)
Karina's anime

I gotta say though, Fletcher was uncharacteristically slow on the uptake here. It's one thing to think that Holly abandoned the mission and is not answering her cell. It's another not to try and call Cam and have *her* not pick up and from there then trying the tracker/sending out a search team. He should have been on alert hours ago.

>>3711562
>>Forget idle chatter. You need to focus on moving forwards

>>3711585
Yeah, I'm a little disappointed in him. We dunno how long it's been since the ambush, but he should have had someone keeping a general eye on the tracker, and when we went off course, neither of us responding should have triggered him to dispatch a team regardless of why we weren't following the plan.

>>3711562
>>Forget idle chatter. You need to focus on moving forwards

>>3711585
It's more damning that the beacon was still transmitting, he was the one that showed us how to turn it off if we needed too.

Although I can totally see Monroe's interfering by ordering him to leave us alone, so that may be why he hasn't done anything yet.

>>3711562
>Let Cam rest while you astral project yourself to look for pursuers

>>3711610
>>3711598
I think, and I'm not trying to throw shade or anything Moloch just critique coming from a player, that he got smacked hard with the incompetence stick in order for this situation to happen to the point it's a bit ooc cause in reality the moment Holly and Cam didn't arrive in time he would of called both of them, got nothing, checked the tracker and sent out a search team. This is his main job after all.

Grimacing, gritting your teeth, you take the energy you would have spent on talking and focus it on marching forwards. Cam has a point about staying alert, but you can't stop your thoughts from wandering. Fletcher. His first thought was that you abandoned the mission, not that you were in trouble. True, true, he changed his tune fast enough once you were able to get a word in, but... you shouldn't have needed to do that to begin with. And what's with this slow response? As soon as you missed your arrival time, he should have raised the alert.

Just lame ol' Holly, screwing things up again. Easy enough conclusion to jump to. No wonder you're supposed to be getting replaced.

The worst part of it is, you really thought you had something going here. A place where you belonged, and a set of adults – not quite parental substitutes, but damn close – who were on your side. That was only ever a dream, and you had to wake up eventually.

“Shh,” Cam urges, and you realise that you've been sniffing. Reaching up, you wipe tears away with the heel of your hand. Then, holding your breath, you realise what Cam was warning you about. There's someone else out there, heavy boots squelching through the mud. Unlike you, they're not making any effort to stay quiet. If anything, you'd guess that they wanted you to hear them coming. Pausing in your tracks, you listen to the approaching footsteps.

Cam reacts first, pushing you aside with the last of her strength as the cloaked soldier emerges from the trees and fires, the stream of bullets from his rifle spraying up liquid mud. Blinded, you falter back and swipe wildly at your eyes to clear them. Blinking away the last of the mud just in time to see Cam raise the pistol, the soldier charges forwards. Kicking out, he knocks the gun from Cam's hand and sends her tumbling back down to the ground. Then he's on you before you can react, slamming the butt of his empty rifle against your desperately raised forearm. Pain explodes through you, the force of the blow driving you down to the forest floor.

Slipping and sliding, losing your grip and being knocked down... sooner or later, you're not going to have the strength to pick yourself back up.

[1/2]

>>3711696

The heavyset soldier falls on you, straddling you and pinning you beneath his weight. Fumbling at his gear for a moment, he comes up with a new plastic tie and grabs for your arms. Struggling wildly, bucking and kicking beneath him as best you can, you try to worm out of his grip. Rainwater streams off his hood, dripping down and constantly splashing in your face, in your eyes. Shaking water away from your face, you grope blindly through the mud around you. Your fingertips brush against rough grip tape, and you close your grip around the knife. No time to think now.

Flicking open the knife's release, you swing up with all your might and drive the blade into his side. A grunt of surprise explodes from the man, and he tumbles sideways off of you. Gasping for breath, you stare up at the forest canopy above before a groan from the man causes you to jolt up. Even with the knife buried in his flank, he's still alive. Rolling over, crawling across to him, you grab the knife and rip it out of him. A gout of dark blood spurts from his side, and he cries out in pain. As the wounded soldier clutches his side and writhes, you grimace and look away. Cam, a short distance away, is struggling to rise. Even that simple task seems to take all her strength, all her attention. You rise, moving to help her, only for the soldier's flailing hand to clutch at your ankle.

You look down, moving to kick his foot away before hesitating. It's not Reyes, perhaps one of your other escorts. A sullen looking man, his face twisted up with pain. Grabbing at your ankle like that... is it a plea for help, or the only form of attack that his wounds will allow? Maybe there was no intent behind it at all, and he was just flailing.

“What is it?” you whisper, looking down at him, “What do you want from me?”

He says nothing, of course. He has enough trouble drawing breath.

>Finish the man off. It'll be quick, at least
>Leave him. He'll bleed out soon enough anyway
>Try to help him. You might not be able to do much, but...
>Other

>>3711716
>Other
Focus on helping Cam to get moving, there are other Soldiers around and they definitely heard the gunshots; they are definitely on the way here and they can render the aid that he needs.

>>3711716
>Other
Get Cam up. If she doesn't recognize this guy as one of Fletcher's then leave him and keep moving.

>>3711716
Also check if this guy has decent bandages in his kit. If he does prioritize taking what we need for Cam and toss the rest at him. He can do his own first aid.

>>3711716
>>Finish the man off. It'll be quick, at least
If someone else reaches him first, he'll be able to point them in our direction.

>>3711732
>>3711742
>Cam, a short distance away
>only for the soldier's flailing hand to clutch at your ankle.
Not an option yet. We have to get him off first, one way or another.

>>3711716
>>Finish the man off. It'll be quick, at least
FINISH HIM

>>3711775
Leave is an option. We have free movement with one kick. This isn't a 'What do you do about him weakly hding your ankle' vote and you know it

>>3711716
>Search the soldier for a first aid kit then leave him be.

>>3711716
>>Leave him. He'll bleed out soon enough anyway

>>3711783
If we dont cut his throat he might get help

A sharp breath hisses out of you as you kick his hand away. It's pathetically easy to shake his grip, and you feel your grip tighten on the blade as you look down at him. This time, you don't think of it in merciful terms. You just want to snuff out that contemptible weakness. Kneeling down beside the man, you actually start raising the blade before you stop, realising what you were about to do and floundering in new confusion. What was... was that really... that had to be some outside influence, right? Some lingering influence from the drug they injected you with, maybe?

Shaking off your confusion, you snap the blade closed and rummage through the man's webbing. He has a pistol like most of them, which you take and throw deep into the forest, but also a few other things. Some flares, which you pocket, and a small medical kit. Absent mindedly slapping his hand away from your arm, you rush back to Cam. “He had this,” you tell her, showing her the kit, “Is there anything here we can use? Bandages, or... I dunno, you're the doctor here.”

“Closest thing to one,” she mutters, squinting as she peers into the kit before taking out a small tube. “Keep watch. Someone must have heard those shots,” she adds, leaning back against a tree and spraying the contents of the tube into her leg wound. Even as a distance, you can smell the chemical reek and a tang of... is that burning flesh? Whatever it is, it can't be pleasant, as Cam bites down hard on her lower lip to keep herself from crying out. Dropping the empty tube, she fishes out a small syringe and, after a brief hesitation, jabs herself with it. “Okay... okay...” she breathes, shuddering a little, “Think I can walk now. Walk long enough to die in bed, at least.”

“That was a joke,” she adds a moment later, noticing your concerned look.

-

After the impromptu field surgery, you really do move quicker. More alert now, Cam keeps the pistol raised as she leads the way, limping rather than leaning heavily against your shoulder. When you spot a light slashing through the trees, you both duck into hiding. “Road must be nearby,” Cam whispers across to you, “I can smell diesel. Car fumes. Fletcher's people, hopefully.”

“If not, we're fucking dead,” you mutter back. Maybe you should have kept the second pistol, but if there's a whole group of them... well, what difference would one extra pistol make? Taking a deep breath and trading a nod with Cam, you slip out from behind the trees and creep closer to the road. A little ways further, and you start hearing the faint rumble of engines. The few soldiers you see don't wear traditional uniforms, and definitely not UN colours. Cam nods to herself, then marches out ahead.

“Friendlies coming out!” Cam calls out, raising her hands and emerging onto the side of the road. A few of the soldiers turn, but none raise their weapons.

[1/2]

>>3711873
> Maybe you should have kept the second pistol, but if there's a whole group of them... well, what difference would one extra pistol make?
Yeah, you should have. If nothing else, Cam could have used the extra ammo in a pinch. Oh well, looks like we're in the clear.

>>3711873

None of the soldiers introduce themselves by name, but your guide has the name “Hastings” on a band he wears around his upper arm. Not his name, you realise after thinking back, but the name of his group. Hastings Security something or another. Fletcher's OTHER people, his people entirely outside of usual NERV channels. The fact that he sent them out here rather than official troops... strange.

But you'll be getting the answers from Fletcher himself, apparently. The mercenaries have set up a temporary field camp here, pretty much by the side of the road, complete with everything a teenage girl might need. There's a medical tent, where Cam is currently resting, and a command tent, where Fletcher is currently waiting. Once the young mercenary leads you to the appropriate place, he nods curtly and hurries away, leaving you to do whatever you damn well please. Biting your lip with sudden unease, you creep a little closer to the tent flap and peer through a crack in the material.

Inside, sitting at a flimsy folding table, Fletcher pours over a set of documents. A steaming cup of coffee sits within reach, and a lamp sheds warm golden light over him. He looks so... comfy here. You've been wading through blood and filth, while he sits back in his office away from home.

Time to figure out how you're going to play this.

>Go in hard. Fletcher screwed up this time, and you're pissed
>Back down and hear Fletcher out. There has to be an explanation
>Bail out and go to the medical tent. You don't need this crap now
>Other

>>3711917
>Back down and hear Fletcher out. There has to be an explanation.

>>3711917
>Back down and hear Fletcher out. There has to be an explanation
Well i guess he can't be everywhere at once.

It may also be worth relaying the phone conversation that we overheard.

>>3711917
>Fletcher screwed up this time, and you're pissed. There better be a good explanation. Go in there and give him the Holly death glare until he starts talking.

>>3711917
Seconding >>3711933

>>3711917
>Go in hard

WE HAVE A KNIFE FELTCH

>>3711940
That reminds me. Chekhov's knife totally did happen.

>>3711917
>>Back down and hear Fletcher out. There has to be an explanation
Though perhaps somewhat sullenly. On the plus side, if nothing else Fletcher learns from his mistakes.

Squaring your shoulders, you throw back the flap door and march into the tent. Stomping towards Fletcher, you draw your knife and flicking the blade open. Startled by the sudden motion, Fletcher actually pushes his chair back before he forces himself to stand firm. Approaching him without breaking stride, you slam the knife down into the flimsy folding table and draw back, leaving the blade stuck fast. Folding your arms, you give Fletcher a long glare – a glare that dares him to speak.

Childish, maybe, but it feels good to be acting up like this. It feels like the old kind of tough guy act that you'd amuse Claire with. The kind of tough guy act that, after she was gone, you would convince yourself that you really believed in.

>Ego increased by 5
>Current Ego: 51/80

“So you're not happy,” Fletcher summarises, pulling his chair closer again and sorting through the stack of papers he has. “I can't say I blame you,” he adds, throwing a few sheets across to you, “But perhaps this might explain things.”

Sparing him one last glare, you pick up the papers and flip through them. Large, black and white photographs, with the grainy texture of low light enhancement, the pictures show... you and Cam. The NIHIL ambush. The rustic car ride, painted in the odd tones of a thermal camera. Finally, a blocky structure hidden and half-buried atop a hill. That last one, you don't recognise so much. Put together, the pictures paint a lurid picture.

“You knew?” you hiss, pointing up towards the tent roof, “You were having me watched?”

“Not my decision, but yes,” Fletcher explains with a sigh, pinching his brow, “This entire situation, starting with Belial's appearance, has been assembled in haste. Security was not as tight as it should have been, and information leaked out. Details of your transit route were sent out without the appropriate security clearance. They reached UN personnel who were... disloyal. Those traitors then passed the information along to NIHIL, being discovered in turn. The matter reached head office, who insisted on... this.”

“This,” you repeat, “Eyes in the sky, following me to... what?”

“To see where you would be taken,” he answers simply, “In the hope that their soldiers could follow, and cut NIHIL's head off in a single stroke. They want Konstantin dead, Holly. They want that very badly.”

Bad enough to use you as bait, apparently. “And you played along with this?” you ask slowly, reluctantly backing down “I mean...”

“That's my job,” he points out, “Throwing a tantrum won't change that. I follow the orders I'm given... but I wasn't ordered to stay away completely. How do you think I was able to get a team out here so quickly? When you escaped and called, it ruined the plan head office put together and I was given full clearance to move in and secure you.”

This is so much bullshit.

[1/2]

>>3712017
Is head office retarded? There were so many variables in this shit. Like what if we ran away and left Cam to die last thread? We'd potentially escape, ruining the plan anyways, and Cam would be dead for nothing. They were never planning on us shooting Beilal anyways.

> How do you think I was able to get a team out here so quickly?
Yeah nice and quick, but didn't bother sending them into the fucking forest while we are still fighting people. Nah they'll just loiter on the street.

>>3712017
Shouldn't that knife still be bloody? I imagine that cranks this up another level.

You know, I'm willing to back NERV a long ways, without them Earth is screwed, but this sort of stuff makes that really hard sometimes. Head office wanted him so badly they'd risk a top pilot. Either they have a working replacement for 02, or they are incredibly foolish.

>>3712045
They didn't care what happened to Holly, as she is about to be replaced by Fisher.

>>3712017

“So... let me get this straight,” you mutter, “Head office let this whole ambush thing go ahead on the CHANCE that I'd be taken, not caring that like, they might have just fucking shot Cam on sight?”

“That's right, yes,” Fletcher agrees, “Again, their plan. Not mine. Sometimes war demands sacrifices, but they have to be needful sacrifices. Sensible ones. I understand that. Head office don't. They say an opportunity to get their man, and they were willing to place that above everything else.” Sighing, he takes the final picture from you and studies it. “The most irritating part, I think, is that it might have worked,” he muses, “Do you know what this is? An old bunker complex. We should have records for it, and we do – but they were buried deep, deep down. Deleting records draws attention, but hiding them like that can go unnoticed for years... decades. The road you were on led towards this bunker – head office believes that Konstantin is there. This time, he won't have time to get away.”

It's just... it's enough to leave you reeling. There is so much that could have gone wrong with this, so many ways that it could have all gone down in flames. What would they have done, you wonder, if the NIHIL soldiers had just shot you dead there and then? Followed the soldiers back home, you suppose, in the hope of gathering even a tiny scrap of information. “I guess...” you begin, floundering for something to say, “I guess this really was thrown together in a hurry, huh?”

“Yes it was. On the bright side, NIHIL were in even more of a hurry. If they had been given ample time to prepare for this, it might have gone more smoothly for them,” Fletcher agrees, “This bunker... we believe that this is where Konstantin has been hiding out recently. It's close enough to Avalon that his people could operate there, but isolated enough to keep him protected. He probably hid the records himself, before he parted ways with his old friends. I just wonder if he-”

A new mercenary brushes into the tent, glancing at the bloodied knife stuck in the table before swallowing heavily. “Boss, we've got news from the away team,” he announces, “They got him. The target is in custody now.”

“Konstantin?” you breathe, “And what about Coraline?”

The mercenary looks around at you, his lips sealed until Fletcher gives him the nod. “We couldn't find her,” he reports, “But there were signs of recent conflict – blood, shell casings, and a few bodies. We're still trying to figure out what happened, but...”

So she's still on the loose. That's...

Something.

>So I'm going to close things here for today. Current plan is to continue this on Saturday, as Friday isn't going to work out for me
>Thank you for your patience today!

>>3712083
Looks like our boy Reyes started some shit.

Thanks for running.

>>3712083
Thanks for the run.

>>3712083
Thanks for running this midweek session.

>>3712094
If it was him, he moves fast. Hopefully he'll keep her off balance if nothing else.

>>3712083
Thanks for running!

How many people has mission leader Claudia murdered so far?

>>3712112
Oh, nobody this time!
She wouldn't be able to get away with it

>>3712177
So what's the pilot human kill count now? (as far as we know)

Holly - 1 (I'm counting the driver that crushed in the accident) , maybe 2 if that guy bled out

Claudia - 1 (Chinese driver)

Yulia - 1 (Bully in the refugee camp)

Kaori - X amount of accidental civilians in Berlin

Nate - 0

Juliet - ?


Who the hell was that guy we stabbed anyways? NIHIL soldier?

>>3712199
Make Claudia 2. remember her backstory, the refugee that assaulted her?

>>3712199
Claudia is 2 and isn't the official report Kaori is responsible for 300-odd deaths?

>>3712199
>>3712509
we'll have to roll up our sleeves but with a little luck Holly should be meet or beat Kaori's high score.

>>3712083
You know it's pretty funny. The build up to Belial was Holly, with the support of her friends, trying to get over her fear of piloting after the latest incident and it looked she was revolved to do one last job.

Then she gets ambushed along the way, has to fight for her and Cam's life, killed someone, didn't get to take a shot at Belial, and to top it off is basically told by the top brass that she is incredibly expendable to the point that her taking a bullet to the dome doesn't really matter in the grand scheme. Hilariously cruel.